Opening the door, the cool, salty air curls around my skin. I pull my suitcase out, shutting the door behind me as I step up on the curb. The sun warms my face as I tilt my head toward the sky, my eyes shuttering closed as I breathe in the scent of the ocean, only a few blocks away.
George pulls away from the curb, driving off, and I don’t spare him a glance as I straighten, taking a step toward the front door.
My feet stall, my eyes widening when I see my three best friends standing in the doorway, watching me with a mixture of excitement and sadness. I drop my suitcase, listening as it rolls off the sidewalk and into the street. They race out of the house, down the steps, and along the walkway until they are a few feet away from me.
“You look different, Lake,” Posie says softly.
I am different. I’m stronger, leaner, colder. I’ve been through shit, walked through shit, and treated like shit.
I’ve never been weak, and I’m certainly not weak now. Not by any means.
“It’s still me, Pose.”
She races the last few steps, swinging her petite arms around me. Her brown hair is shorter, a sleek long bob that goes just below her shoulders. I curl my arms around her neck, knowing I probably smell like actual garbage, but not caring as my friend’s familiar scent fills my senses. Ocean, trees, and blueberries.
It feels good to be home.
I’m hauled out of Posie’s arms, and into Eloise’s. She’s a few inches taller than me, but feels even taller now as I wrap my arms around her waist, burrowing my head into her neck. Her long red hair is brighter, as if she’s put some blonde highlights in it. She’s also lost a few pounds, though she didn’t need to. She’s in a pair of jeans and a crop top, a cardigan slouched over one shoulder. “We thought you died, Lake. Like, actually.”
I squeeze her tighter as I close my eyes. These are the realest girls I’ve ever met, and I know my absence must have been hard. If one of them disappeared, I don’t know how I would’ve handled it.
Not fucking well.
“I thought I did. It felt like it at some points,” I breathe over her shoulder.
Vienna stands at the bottom of the stairs, smiling at me with tears in her eyes. “We missed you, Lakey.”
I extend my hand, and she hops toward me, hugging me over Eloise. “What happened to you?” she whispers.
I squeeze them tight before we release, and I nod toward the front door. “I’ll tell you all about it, but let’s go inside.” I glance up at the house. “How long have you guys had this house?”
Posie glances back at the two-story home. “A few months now. I’ll show you around.”
We nod, and my arms let go of Eloise as I step back. Walking toward the street, I grab my suitcase, lifting it into my arms and turning toward them, heading up the steps and inside. A smirk lifts my lips when I hear the low groan over the aged floorboards.
This home has history, and it makes me feel as if I’m stepping back in time. Like I could open a door and piece together a story from the past.
Whites and grays and dark tones fill the large foyer and extend down the hallway, mixing modern touches with the authentic structure. Real, natural wood coats the floor, stained light, slightly distressed, all the way up the impressive beams in the house, extending across the crown moldings on the ceilings.
Posie walks down the hall, and I drop my suitcase by the door, following them as we make our way toward the kitchen. My lips lift again once we make it to the main area. It looks as if a few walls have been knocked down, opening this place up more. The kitchen and dining room have been combined into one area, with the living room in the distance, a step down from the main floor.
The kitchen hosts the original cabinets, painted teal, and what looks to be newer white marble countertops. They have their Nespresso coffee machine against the wall, along with a few decorative pieces on top of the cabinets to match their festive style outside.
A large gothic-looking table is placed in the center of the dining room, black and weathered, with tall, wingback chairs surrounding it.
Stately columns separate the dining room and the living room. Dark gray couches and a blue chair sit along the wall, with a pouf ottoman in front of them. A large TV is mounted across the room, with a white, distressed stand below, filled with books and matching decor. Potted plants hang from the ceiling in the corners of the room, held by white macramé.
“I love it.” I nod, smirking at them. “This place is perfect.”
“I knew you’d like it, Lakyn,” Posie says, sitting down on the couch. “But we can do a tour later. Right now, I need to know everything.”
I step into the living room, my fingers brushing the historic column. The wood is smooth, yet rough against my fingertips. Stepping around the couch, I take a seat, swallowing down a groan as the cushions engulf me.
It’s so comfortable.
A large candle sits on the coffee table in front of me, and I lean forward, inhaling the scent of cashmere and vanilla.
“Everything?” I ask as I sit back. My brows lift. She does not want to know everything.