Who We Could Be

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “So,” she said, at last coming to rest on the bed like a hummingbird finally taking a break, “what’s your agenda for today?”

  “Let’s have breakfast first,” I said. I wasn’t ready to do anything else yet.

  “Oh come on, tell me.” Her eyes sparkled, and then she grabbed for my phone.

  “Give it back!” I yelled, reaching for the phone as she stood up on the bed, holding it toward the ceiling. There was no way I was getting up and fighting for it.

  “Fine, whatever. It’s not like I wasn’t going to tell you after I’d had some coffee anyway. I also changed my passcode.”

  “Too bad for you, but I know all your password patterns.” She unlocked the phone and waved it in my direction.

  “That’s why you have two-factor authentication,” she said, bouncing slightly and making the bed move in waves.

  “Can you stop please?” I asked. If things didn’t improve, I was on the fast-track for a migraine.

  “Sure,” she said, sitting at the edge of the bed and facing me, scrolling through my phone. I didn’t have anything on there I didn’t want her to see, and it wasn’t worth the effort to snatch it back from her.

  “Oh, this is more detailed than I thought. Well done.”

  “I like being organized,” I said.

  “I know.”

  A knock at the door interrupted us and the food arrived. Thank goodness. I went for the coffee first and downed a cup before I even touched any of the food.

  “Come on,” Tessa said, pulling the cart out toward the balcony. I had to help her with the door, and there was barely enough room for two chairs and the cart, but she seemed happy, so who was I to argue?

  “See this? This is perfect.” Tessa turned her face up to the sun, and it set her hair on fire. If I said that I wasn’t jealous of her hair color, it would be a lie. I’d always been horribly envious. Even when we’d been younger and she’d gotten teased for it and I’d had to comfort her and tell her how lovely it was. Like gold and sunsets mixed together.

  I pulled my legs up and set my plate on them, taking little bites here and there. I was hungry, but eating wasn’t exactly a priority. Things were still so...

  Unsettled. All those thoughts that didn’t make sense, but made all the sense. Tessa hummed happily as she devoured her plate in giant bites and then stared out at the world around us as she sipped her coffee, one knee pulled up.

  “So, what are the chances of me talking you out of doing everything you had on that list?” she asked, finally turning to look at me.

  “Slim to none. You’re on my trip, remember? Did you even look at what I had on there? So much of it’s for you.” I’d added antique stores and weird shops I knew she’d like, and even selected restaurants that had her favorite things. In fact, there was less on that list for me than there was for her. Everything had been easier that way. What I’d planned for me and TJ didn’t matter anymore, and it didn’t interest me.

  “I hope we can at least take an hour or two of unscheduled time for spontaneous things.” I wasn’t a fan of spontaneous things, and she knew that.

  “What kind of spontaneous things?”

  She sighed. “That’s the point, Ford. You don’t know what they’re going to be. Don’t you have an English degree?” I threw a grape at her.

  “Yes, I know what the word spontaneous means. I’m just not a fan.” I shuddered.

  “But can’t spontaneous things be great sometimes?” she said, leaning forward and plucking a strawberry off the plate and biting into it. The juice stained her lips a little.

  “Was it fun when we were almost attacked that family of racoons when we tried to sneak onto the beach to go to that party that one time? Was it fun when we got a flat tire in the middle of fucking nowhere when you said we should ‘just drive and see what happens’?”

  “First of all,” Tessa said, pointing at me with her fork as she attacked the leftover bites on my plate, “it’s not my fault that we took the wrong path, and at least those racoons weren’t rabid. And second, we had fun waiting for the roadside assistance, and we met a very interesting guy when he showed up and told us all about his exotic bird collection and showed us pictures of the swords he made. I rest my case.”

  She sat back, triumphant.

  “We could have gotten rabies!” I yelled.

  “But we didn’t. That’s the point. And we’re not in risk of rabies if I take you off the beaten path for an hour. Can I have an hour? Just one. You can time me.”

  Tessa knew she was going to win. I was stubborn, but she was stubborner, when she wanted to get her way. Most of the time she was so go-with-the-flow, but when she desired something, she dug her heels in unlike anyone I’d ever seen.

  “One hour. But I get to do my stuff first, because I’ve bought tickets and we have a schedule. You get your hour after lunch.” Her eyes narrowed slightly.

  “Fine. But I get to pick where we eat.”

  I hadn’t made a reservation yet, but I’d been planning on it. I guess I could bump today’s restaurant to another day. That would require some other shuffling, but I could make it happen.

  “Deal?” she asked, holding her hand out.

  “Deal,” I said, and we shook on it.

  “NO LOOKING IT UP, WE’RE eating here,” Tessa said, dragging me through the doors of the restaurant. It was an odd shade of pink on the outside and looked more like an odd private home than a restaurant, but it looked like it was southern food, so that was promising. I’d have to fight myself not to get fried chicken again. It was quickly becoming my favorite thing and I was determined to crack the perfect recipe when I got home. Now that I wasn’t getting married, I had to find more ways to fill the time I used to spend with TJ.

  The pace was pretty on the inside, with tons of paintings and white tablecloths on every table and chandeliers dripping from the ceiling. Swanky. I’d expected Tessa to pick a more casual place. I was glad I’d worn my light and gauzy dress with strawberries on it today. Tessa had surprised me with a pair of black linen pants and a white eyelet t-shirt. I’d been meaning to ask her about it but kept forgetting.

  A server seated us at a table near a window and Tessa couldn’t stop watching the people walking by.

  We got menus and I was relieved to see the place wasn’t as expensive as I’d been expecting in my head. Good choice, Tessa. Maybe spontaneity wasn’t so bad.

  “What are you planning for later?” I asked as we both scanned our menus.

  “I’m not planning anything. I mean, I might have looked a few things up to get ideas, but then I decided that wasn’t spontaneous, so I’ll figure it out after we eat.”

  So, that was stressing me out a little, but I was still on a little bit of a high from our tour at the Juliette Gordon Low—the founder of the Girl Scouts—historic home, as well as a visit to the Telfair Museum. My brain was overloaded with information and, honestly, it was nice to sit and rest. Every single corner of Savannah had something historical happening in it. It was overwhelming. I also didn’t want to forget the darker parts of the city’s history, so we’d be diving into that as well.

  “I can’t decide if I want fish tacos or to go for it and try the gumbo,” Tessa said. “What about you?”

  “I just really want the fried chicken, but I had fried chicken last night,” I said. It even came with a side of mac and cheese, the ideal combination.

  “So? Are you only allowed to eat fried chicken once in a twenty-four-hour period?”

  “No,” I said. “Obviously.”

  “Then get it.”

  We both ordered sweet tea, because what else were you going to drink? Tessa decided on the shrimp tacos and I went for the fried chicken.

  “See? We might not have come here if you had planned this. So there.”

  She was right. When I’d been doing my planning, I’d avoided a lot of the more well-known places, and this would have been knocked off my list.

  Tessa was cute when she was smug.
/>   We finished lunch, and then I had to just follow her.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said, turning around and walking backwards and smiling at me. “That’s the point!”

  I still wasn’t so sure about this.

  TESSA SOMEHOW, THROUGH her powers of spontaneity, led us to an absolutely gorgeous park with a fountain at the center. It looked like the set of a movie. We even saw more than a few couples in wedding attire taking pictures, and even one wedding progress. The grassy areas were patchworked with blankets and picnickers and children chasing each other all around.

  Tessa normally walked fast, as if she was always trying to get to the next thing, but she slowed down and we strolled together.

  “See? Isn’t this perfect?”

  It was.

  “Are you ready to admit I was right?” she asked, bumping me with her shoulder.

  “Never,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Come on, admit I was right.” She took my arm and made me stop. Our toes touched and she was close enough that I could count the freckles on her cheeks, as if I didn’t already know how many she had. I’d been counting those freckles for years. I’d memorized them.

  “Never,” I whispered.

  “What can I do to get you to admit it?” She leaned closer, and my dress fluttered around her legs, wrapping them up.

  “Nothing,” I said. “There’s nothing you can do.” I was having trouble swallowing.

  “Oh, there’s something and I’m going to figure it out. Just you wait.” Tessa stepped away from me, and I realized I’d been leaning into her when I ended up stumbling forward and almost falling.

  “Whoa, did that sweet tea go to your head?” Tessa said, catching me and helping me stand up again.

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  I didn’t know if I was fine.

  THE NEXT FEW DAYS WERE filled with museums, historical walking tours, exploring the cobblestoned streets along the river, multiple trolley tours, and so many incredible foods and drinks. Being in a new place with new air was such a relief, and after that first night, I started sleeping better. There was something about being in a bed with Tessa that calmed my anxieties and let me rest. Or maybe it was being in Savannah. Either way, I didn’t ever want to go home.

  Every now and then, Tessa would ambush me with “what does it take to make you say I was right?” and usually I would yell because she’d snuck up on me and then I’d say the same thing I’d said before, “nothing.”

  She was persistent.

  Our second to last night, I finally agreed to be spontaneous again.

  “Okay, so this isn’t technically spontaneous, or at least our outfits aren’t going to be,” she said as she whipped something shiny out of her suitcase.

  “What is that?” I asked as she held up the emerald velvet jumpsuit.

  “Well, it was what I was going to wear to your wedding, but now it’s what I’m wearing tonight. And this,” she did another flourish and pulled out one of my favorite dresses, “is what you are wearing. I packed your petticoat and everything.” She pulled that out too.

  “When did you get this?” I asked, taking the items from her.

  “Like a few days before we left? You should probably pay better attention to what’s in your closet, Ford.” I crushed the fabric to my chest, petting the bronze taffeta skirt.

  “I’m going to have to steam this to get the wrinkles out,” I said, holding it up. The dress was technically two pieces, a black high-neck crop top that was nearly backless and a bronze taffeta skirt. It made me feel both bookish and glamorous at the same time, especially with that little bit of my torso that peeked between the top and skirt.

  “There’s a function for that on the iron,” Tessa said, pulling that out of the closet and hauling out the ironing board.

  “Who are you right now? Have you ever used an iron in your entire life?” I couldn’t even imagine it. Tessa picked up the iron and looked at it as if it was going to bite her. “Give me that.”

  I took it from her and went to put some water in it.

  “Just because I’ve never used one, doesn’t mean I don’t know how. I’ve never used a penis, but I’m pretty sure I know what to do with it.”

  I almost dropped the iron on my foot.

  “What did you say?” I came out of the bathroom and set the iron down.

  “What?” she said.

  “The penis thing. You and Gus have never...” Tessa and I didn’t really talk about sex. With TJ, there just hadn’t been much to talk about in that department. We did it, and that was about it. Most of the time it was nice, and that was as good as it got. I could always do better on my own, but wasn’t that true for everybody?

  “I mean, we’ve done some stuff, but never, like, other stuff.” Her entire face, including her ears, were aflame. “It was just a joke, Ford. Calm down.”

  I wanted to ask her more, but I honestly didn’t want to hear the answers, so I dropped it. How was it that Tessa and I could talk about literally anything else, but we couldn’t seem to get past this particular topic? Whatever, I didn’t need to think about it.

  Instead, I focused on fixing my skirt. Tessa and I took turns changing in the bathroom, like we’d done all week. We hadn’t even discussed it, that was just what we’d always done. When she came out in her jumpsuit, I had to sit down on the bed because my legs stopped holding me up.

  “Okay, so can you see my nipples?” She looked down at the neckline, which was, in a word, plunging. “I taped myself in so I think I’m good.” She turned to the side and then back to the front.

  Her clavicles and the space between her breasts were visible. She had freckles there, too. I’d seen her in a bathing suit, but this was...entirely different.

  “Wait a second, you were going to wear this to my wedding? Like that?” All I could imagine were wardrobe malfunctions and scandalized relatives.

  “Hell yeah. For that I was going to use duct tape. And I had this underthing that I could put on at the last minute. But my boobs really look okay?” She looked down again and I was at a complete loss for words.

  “You look amazing, Cin,” I said finally. She smiled.

  “So do you! Can I get a twirl?” I realized I shouldn’t have sat down with the dress, so I hopped up and looked at the back to make sure the taffeta still looked okay. The petticoat I wore under it fluffed the skirt out so it was perfect for twirls.

  I stepped out and did a few turns for Tessa as she clapped.

  “Gorgeous. Are you almost ready?”

  “Just need to do my hair and makeup,” I said. She rolled her eyes.

  “So it’s going to take another hour or so?”

  I fluffed out my skirt. “Hey, come on now. It doesn’t take me that long.”

  “I’m timing you,” she said.

  “Fine, then I’m picking the restaurant,” I called as I looked at my hair in the mirror, wondering what the heck to do with it. Up was best, so I did a few quick braids and pulled everything back into a twist. Not bad.

  “You’ve got ten minutes, max,” Tessa called.

  “Calm the fuck down!” I yelled as I got out my makeup bag and set everything on the counter.

  “Nine minutes and fifty-five seconds!”

  “I’m going to strangle you in your sleep if you don’t stop.”

  “You can’t strangle me on our bestfriendimoon.”

  I took a deep breath and focused on getting my foundation even.

  Nine

  Tessa

  It wasn’t just my imagination that people were staring at Monty. It made sense, because she was fucking gorgeous, and that outfit was perfect for her. I could never pull off something like that. Monty was the kind of person who could wear a shapeless dress and make it look incredible. On me, it would just look like a sack.

  I was pretty happy with my own outfit. I’d found it by chance on a rack in the mall and had known it was the perfect thing to wear for her we
dding. Now that wasn’t happening, I had to get my use out of it.

  Monty selected a moody restaurant with smoky drinks and soft music playing in the background and leather on the chairs.

  “After tonight, I’m going to get you to admit I was right,” I said as we scanned our menus.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  I didn’t really have a plan of what we were going to do after this, but I wanted to find somewhere fun. Maybe a club or something. Nothing too intense, just somewhere we might be able to shake it and get a drink and let loose. So much of what we’d done during the day was historical. There were so many facts in my brain now that I almost wished I could pour some of them out because it was just too much information. Maybe dancing it out would help.

  I couldn’t stop looking at Monty in her outfit. Just an absolute knockout. I hoped no dudes tried to hit on her, because that was literally the last thing she needed.

  “What are you thinking about?” Monty asked as I sipped my drink. It was alcoholic and had a bunch of stuff I’d never heard of in it, but it was really good. I’d have to remember what it was so I could try and replicate it at home.

  “Nothing that concerns you.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’re plotting something. I can tell.”

  “I never plot. At least not in public.”

  That made her laugh a little. “You look really great. I hope you know that.”

  “Thanks,” she said, her cheeks getting a little pink. “So do you.”

  “SO, WHERE TO NOW?” We stood outside the restaurant post dinner and chocolate dessert and I tried to pick a direction.

  “This way,” I said, pointing to the left.

  “You have no idea where we’re going, do you?”

  “Nope! That’s the point. I thought we’d been over this.”

  Monty looked from right to left, as if at any moment someone was going to jump out and attack her. The streets were filled with other people going to dinner or strolling or shopping. It wasn’t even that late, and this was a busy area.