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The sound of the train rumbling to a stop is enough to break Erica’s concentration. She peers up from her notebook and takes a look around; at some point while she was distracted, nearly every seat in the cart had been filled by a nameless body. It had been nearly empty when she’d boarded it earlier that day.
The view outside her window tells her they’re in Maryland, at least an hour and change away from Philadelphia, which means she’s almost home. It’s been a few months since she’s been back in Pennsylvania, the longest she’d ever been away, and if she’s being honest with herself, she’s been a little more than homesick.
She wonders how long it will be before her family has her itching for school to start back up. But for now, she’s looking forward to seeing them all again.
She returns her attention to the blank page in front of her and sighs. It’s also been months since she’s written anything new. Never in her life has Erica known a writer’s block so severe. It feels like every word she’s ever known has abandoned her.
Another nameless body fills the seat across from hers just as the train begins to pick up momentum again. She doesn’t look up immediately - the whole cart is filled with strangers, and the proximity of this particular one doesn’t make them special or any different.
Except this stranger knows her name. And she definitely knows their voice.
“Erica? Erica Goldberg?”
Her eyes widen, and her stomach dips in a strangely familiar way.
“Geoff Schwartz. Well, I’ll be damned.”
It’s not like she was expecting to never see Geoff Schwartz again; he and Barry are still friends, and as far as she knew, the entire JTP regularly still saw each other. It was inevitable that they’d see each other eventually; as certain and unavoidable as thunderstorms in the summertime.
It just so happened that fate had worked itself out so that the two of them haven’t really had many opportunities to see each other, or even speak to one another, since their relationship had come to an end a year and a half ago. It turns out that distance makes the heart grow fonder, but also sadder and colder and lonesome.
Things didn’t end badly, but they did end. And things really sucked for awhile, until they got better - and then they just sucked a little less.
But here they are now.
It’s unavoidable.
“Are you home for the summer?” Geoff asks, his smile as cordial and polite as ever.
She nods. “I am. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been taking classes every summer. Between school and working, it’s like...” he makes a choking gesture and laughs. “You know?”
Erica laughs, too. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”
She hates how this kind of feels like small talk, but even more, how heavy the silences between them feel. It’s almost torture.
“So,” she clears her throat. “What even brings you to Baltimore?” she asks, referring to the stop he’d gotten on at. “I didn’t think you went to school here?”
He’s weirdly quiet for a moment and shifts in his seat. “I don’t. My girlfriend lives here.”
Oh.
She almost wishes she hadn’t asked, until he speaks again.
“Ex-girlfriend now, I guess,” he corrects himself, his gaze momentarily dropping to the ground.
“That’s terrible,” she says, and she kind of means it. Judging by his tone and the look on his face, seems upset. “Can I ask why?”
He shrugs. “It just didn’t feel right anymore. It’s the whole reason I came, to tell you the truth,” he explains. His eyes search hers and he senses her sympathy. “Don’t feel bad. It’s been tough on us since she transferred to Maryland last semester. I think we both knew that this was coming for awhile.”
She smiles sadly. “Still… You came all this way. And mutual or not, breakups still suck.”
And some suck a little more than others.
Geoff clears his throat and Erica notices the way he starts to play with the zipper of his sweatshirt; he would always fidget with his hands when he was nervous.
She first noticed this habit their first summer together, when they along with Barry and Lainey went away to the Jersey shore for a weekend. Erica had asked him to apply sunscreen on her back for her - a classic move - and he played with the bottle of sunscreen for an entire minute before getting it to open.
“So, you’re a junior now, right?” he turns the focus of the conversation to Erica.
“Yeah, just about. This is my last summer of freedom before graduating. Next year, if all goes according to plan, I’ll hopefully be doing an internship. Are you taking more classes this summer?”
He shakes his head. “No, not this year. I decided to take it easy. I’ll already be graduating a semester early. Summer classes really helped with that.”
She is admittedly impressed. “Well. Look at you.”
The tension between them begins to lift the more they speak, but it’s still palpable. She tells herself that this is normal for exes. Just being with Geoff was always kind of awkward, even when it wasn’t. Awkward was always natural for them; a part of his charm and, strangely, even a part of why they made sense together.
“It really is nice to see you again, Geoff,” she says before she can stop herself. For some reason, her face flushes; now she’s the one floundering.
He smiles, and she can’t help but notice that it’s his Erica smile that makes an appearance this time; a lopsided grin that had always been reserved for just her. It feels strange now that she’d gone this long without it; a little stranger that she'd almost forgotten it.
If she’s being totally honest, a part of her expects him to say something about fate or destiny. The Geoff she’d known her whole life would have; she’d been on the receiving end of his heartfelt ramblings about destiny and declarations of love many a-time.
Erica isn't so sure about him now - who he is, or how much time has changed him. But she wonders if maybe the Geoff she knew back then had a point about all that stuff.
How else can it be explained that the two of them are here now, face to face, barely a foot apart.
It doesn’t feel like a coincidence, of that much she can be sure. It feels something only the stars could explain.
She realizes that she sort of wants him to ask if she’s seeing anyone, because she sort of wants him to know that she’s not, but that doesn’t matter. He just got out of a relationship this morning, and they aren’t in high school anymore.
Besides, she’s not even sure if it’s something she actually wants, or if it’s just an ache for something familiar, and all the pain of missing him that she’d bottled up years ago resurfacing.
She’s tried so hard for so long not to think about Geoff, that seeing him now is just confusing and muddling.
Pull yourself together, moron.
“Still writing songs?” he asks, pointing his chin to the now-closed journal on her lap.
She shrugs. “Theoretically, I am. I’ve been stuck in a bit of a rut lately. With school and everything, I’ve just been running low on inspiration, I think,” she confesses.
“Write a song about seeing a tall, dark mystery man from your past on a train,” he jokes, and the lilt in his laugh tugs at her heart.
She laughs too. “Yeah, and how would that go?”
“How should I know? You’re the songwriter.”
The sound of an infant crying in the seat behind her interrupts their conversation for a moment. Erica watches on as the child’s mother bounces him gently on her lap, humming him back to a peaceful cooing.
When she allows her gaze to break away, she notices that Geoff’s is zeroed in on her. Another rush of warmth washes over her.
“How long will you be in Jenkintown?” he asks, breaking the silence between them.
“Till school starts up again. If my idiot brothers don’t drive me out of the house by the end of this week,” Erica jokes. Then before she can help it, she asks, “Will I be seeing you around the house?”
It’s an innocent question, and her tone is casual enough, but it’s just enough to puncture whatever is left of the comfort barrier between them.
Geoff laughs nervously and takes a second or two to consider her question. For some reason, Erica tightens her grip on the notebook in her lap.
“I mean, yeah,” he answers. There’s a significant enough pause before, “Do you want to see me around the house?”
His voice is soft and almost hesitant, but it feels like he’s flirting with her. In fact, she’s almost sure of it.
She isn’t sure what it means, but decides not to try and analyze things.
“Well, if you are there,” she begins, rolling with it, “there’s really not much I can do about it. Is there?”
“I think we both know there is next to nothing in this world that you can’t do something about, Erica.”
She can feel herself blushing again, but plays it cool. This… whatever-it-is, is beginning to feel more familiar, but it’s the familiarity that makes it all the more terrifying.
They spend the rest of the ride home like this, teetering on the edge between comfortable and scary. But it doesn’t feel like small talk anymore, and for that she’s grateful.
As promised, Geoff does make an appearance at the Goldberg residence, but it’s still a full two days before Erica sees him again.
She and her mother are in the middle of of restocking the pantry, having just returned from grocery shopping, when Barry enters the kitchen followed by two-fourths of the JTP; the others must’ve not yet returned from school.
“I got the melons you asked for, sweetums,” Beverly tells her son, motioning her head toward the three different types of melon she’d left on the counter.
“Thank you, mother,” he says, placing a few crisp dollar bills on the counter before picking up a melon. The rest of his friends follow suit and each grab another.
Erica rolls her eyes; she’s sure that whatever they have planned is as stupid as ever, but she’s at least glad to see that Barry is paying for his own idiocy now, even if it is just a few dollars for fruit.
“If you ladies will keep out of the backyard for a few hours,” Barry says, standing at the back door, “the JTP and I have a few critical matters to attend to.”
“JTP!” Geoff and Naked Rob echo in reply.
Geoff is the last to exit, and turns to exchange a look with Erica upon leaving. He tosses her a half-smile and waves, which she cordially returns. She’s still smiling to herself when she returns her attention to the canned beans she’d been shelving.
A throat clears and Erica looks over at her mom, who raises her eyebrows and smiles a tight-lipped grin. Her own smile dissipates.
“What was that all about?” she asks, shutting the breadbox.
“What? Oh, that?” Erica asks, shrugging her shoulders as casually as possible. “That was nothing. He was just saying hi.”
“I think on some subconscious level you kids must realize, at this point, that you can’t hide anything from me. So, dish!” her mother demands. “Or I’ll just have to find another way to get the information I want and you know I always-”
“Okay!” Erica cries, more to get her mother to stop talking than anything else. “Geoff was on my train ride home the other day. We talked. For like an hour and a half. But that’s it.”
“Sure it is, sweetie.”
Erica raised an eyebrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“We’ve already discussed this, Erica. It’s never just ‘that’s it’ when something is meant to be.”
“Mom, you can’t still believe that-”
Her mother cuts her off. “Oh, yes I can, honey. And I wholeheartedly do.”
Erica is flipping through a magazine at the dining table when the boys saunter back into the house about an hour later. The three of them are sporting chunks of fruit in their hair and all over their clothes. Naked Rob lives up to his namesake and is now holding the shirt he’d been wearing, stained red with watermelon juice.
She’s amused in spite of herself. “It is exactly two years ago. Time really does stand still. What did you idiots do?”
“We used this catapult thing Adam got to launch melons,” Geoff answers.
Naked Rob adds, “Our heads were the target.”
Erica narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “Why?”
“Because we wanted to test out how well it worked,” Barry says as though this should have been obvious to her.
“Oh,” she says dryly. “Of course. You’re a bunch of melonheads, anyway. It all makes sense now.”
Barry ignores her comment. “Alright. I’m gonna head up and wash this out of my hair now,” he turns toward his friends. “Fellas?”
“I have to head home,” Naked Robb says, tossing his shirt over his shoulder. “My family’s expecting me for dinner.”
“I’ll meet you upstairs in a sec, Bar,” Geoff says.
Erica doesn’t miss the way Barry’s eyes linger on her for a moment before nodding and running up the steps.
When they are finally left alone, Geoff speaks first, and it’s as though he’s able to read her mind (though it probably isn’t hard just by looking a the expression on her face).
“We used helmets,” he clarifies, as though this is a justification for their actions.
“I’d hope so. At the very least.”
“It was still just as messy, though. And it seemed like a better idea beforehand.”
If only she had a dime for every time she heard that line before. “They don’t teach foresight at your school?”
He laughs and takes a seat at the table next to her. What are they doing? “I must have missed class that day.”
“Maybe you can take a summer class on it at the community college.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he says quietly. His eyes search her face, and she has a hard time meeting his gaze directly. And then, softly, he begins again, “So, Erica-”
Before Geoff can finish his thought, her youngest brother rushes down the stairs. “Geoff. Barry needs you for something.”
“We’re talking,” Erica snaps at him.
“Can it wait a minute?” Geoff asks, a lot more calmly.
“Evidently not, since he sent me down here to get you,” Adam says.
He sighs. “What is it?”
“Something about dropping something on Naked Rob.”
Geoff looks confused. “I thought he went home?”
Adam shugs. “How should I know? I’m just the messenger, man.”
Geoff exchanges a look with Erica and reluctantly heads up the stairs.
“Is this a thing again?” Adam asks once Geoff is out of earshot.
She flings the scrunchy she’d been wearing at her wrist at his head like a slingshot. He ducks and it misses, but he scurries out of the room and runs back upstairs, so she counts it as a win in her book.
When Geoff reenters the dining area a little while later, his hair is wet and free from any signs of melon.
“Rob was outside your brother’s window, apparently needing both of us for a favor, and then blasted us with some kid’s water gun. So I just rinsed the rest of my head off in the sink.”
Unsurprised by any of this, Erica closes her magazine and pushes herself out of her seat. “Want to go get some ice cream at the Wawa up the street?” she offers.
“Sure,” he says. “Let me just tell your brother I’m heading out.” He leans against the railing of their stairway. “Yo, Barry! I’m going to Wawa with your sister! You want anything?”
“Yeah man, just grab me a bag of candy!” he calls out in response.
Erica doesn’t bother asking what her brothers are doing upstairs; more than likely it’s something stupid, and she doesn’t really want to know.
What she wants to do is ask him to finish saying whatever he was starting to say before, but neither of them can bring themselves to speak until they’re nearly at the end of the block.
“It’s really nice out, huh?” she says idly, looking up at the sky.
He nods his head in agreement, but the expression on his face reads a blank.
“Alright, dude,” she says, in her best attempt at sounding cool and unbothered. “What’s on your mind?”
He averts away from her stare. “Can I say something? At the risk of making things sort of… weird and awkward?”
For some reason, this makes her laugh. Because again, awkward is their default. And weird just comes with the territory.
“You can never make anything too weird or too awkward, Geoff.”
“Okay,” he says, and then slows his pace, and then suddenly he’s stopped walking altogether.
They’ve still got another block and a half to go, but Wawa is the last thing on Erica’s mind.
She stops and turns to see him standing there, searching for the words he wants to say.
“I guess,” he says quietly. “I guess I… Just forgot how much I missed you.”
Something washes over her then, and it feels like all the sadness and longing she tried so hard to forget, but there’s something else there too. Something that gets her to manage a smile.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
For a moment, they are paused; they stand in this silence and just watch each other’s faces. Slowly, she reaches over to him and laces his fingers with hers.
“A soft serve on me?” she offers, remembering the intended destination of their journey.
He doesn’t answer with words; instead he hastily pulls her toward him. There is some hesitancy in his movement, but he works through it, and before Erica can make sense of what’s happening, he has his lips pressed to hers and his hands at her waist. She wasn’t expecting this, but closes her eyes and eases into it, leaning against him, gripping his arms with her hands. She allows them to trail up his body before entangling her fingers in his hair, where they linger for a moment until he slowly pulls away from the kiss.
“Okay,” is all she can manage to say, every nerve in her body still vibrating.
“Okay,” he echoes softly.
They don’t speak for the rest of their walk, though there is plenty to talk about; where this is going, what it would mean for them. Why, how, and what it is.
But there’s a time for that, Erica decides, and that time isn’t right now. Right now, there is this, and she thinks they’ve spent enough time focusing on everything else.