“I can’t believe you insisted I watch Milo’s kid tonight,” Mars said, spinning around in my old computer chair. “It’s bad enough I have to watch Mollie.”
“Milo’s a good kid,” I began to say, looking through my closet. “Besides, it’s only for like, an hour and a half. It’s just dinner.”
“It’s always ‘just dinner’,” she commented as she finally stopped spinning on the chair. “I mean, look at mom.”
“You like Alex?” I quickly changed the subject, hoping that her attention span was as short as I remembered it being.
“He’s cool; calm, chill… opposite of dad.” I turned around and looked at her after her response. Mars sighed before she continued. “Dad asked mom if it was okay for him to come to my graduation in the Spring.”
“Why wouldn’t he ask you directly?” I questioned.
Mars shrugged her shoulders. “I guess he didn’t want me to feel awkward–“
“It’s your graduation, the least he can do is man up and ask you directly.” It was apparent that I wasn’t on good terms with our father. He had managed to slip and slide into Mars’s life when he came back to us about 10 years ago. He tried to get close to me, in which I never gave him the opportunity to really do so. Call it ‘holding a grudge’, I call it keeping my peace. When I don’t hear Mars say anything else, I changed the subject, as any big sister should. “How’s Dennis? Missing him this weekend?”
“Ha ha,” she deadpanned, now sitting on the edge of my bed. “Dennis is fine. He was going to a couple of shoots with some of our friends in Chicago.”
I raised an eyebrow, now curious. “Have you guys discussed plans after graduating?”
“Peppie, please,” Mars waved off as she spoke. “The academic year just started, can I actually get through this semester before I start thinking about life after college?”
“I’m just saying,” I said into the closet, finally pulling something out. “Before you know it, you’re in your late 20’s living back at mom’s house, trying to figure out what the hell went wrong along the way.” There was an awkward silence after I spoke; there always was one when I spoke about my life. I haven’t spoken much about my time in North Carolina with Cullen since his passing, and I would prefer it to stay that way.
“You’re not that old,” Mars finally said. It made me smile as I placed the outfit I chose on the bed. It immediately caught Mars’ attention. “This is a nice dress to wear to just have dinner in.”
“I’m going out to a real place for dinner; not the Outback Steakhouse,” I commented.
“Hey! The Outback is just of a dinner date place than whatever high end place you’re going–” Mars began to ramble on until she gasped. It made me turn around and look at her with a concerned look.
“What?”
“You’re going on a date with Milo? As in Milo Kamalani?” she finally asked.
“It’s not a date,” I emphasized, beginning to change out of my clothes. “It’s just dinner.”
“No, the Outback is just dinner; you getting dressed up for caviar is a date.” I turned around and noticed just how invested Mars looked sitting there. She had her legs crossed, her hands in a closed fist near her mouth with a goofy looking smile. “Is my big sister dating again?”
“This isn’t a date–“
“Peppie, please,” she interrupted. “I’m your sister; your first one at that! You can tell me these things, especially when they are so painfully obvious.”
“Painfully obvious?” I questioned.
“You always had a thing for Milo,” Mars openly admitted. “You were just too stubborn to admit it to yourself.”
“I was supposed to get married with Cullen,” I spat back. It was the first time I said his name out loud to my sister since his passing. Her face instantly changed hearing his name. “Yeah; it seems like everybody forgot that little tidbit about my life–“
“I didn’t,” Mars debated back, now seeming serious. I knew this was a sensitive topic for her; for the both of us. Mars was dating someone a couple of years ago that had died in a car accident. Mars was supposed to be in that car that night, heading back to the dorms after a night of partying. She had left early because she needed to be up early the following morning for an exam. I knew she still carries that on her, and I know Cullen’s passing had brought up a lot of those feelings. “It still doesn’t explain why you’re going on a fancy dinner date with your ‘friend’.” And there goes the annoying little sister I know. “I’m still shocked you guys are even friends after the bullshit you guys went through.”
“We talked things out, obviously. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t be hanging out–“
“Or maybe because Milo has been secretly in love with you since the beginning of time,” Mars interrupted me once again, now smirking at me. “Or are you guys being delusional for the sake of the friendship?”
“Mars,” I sighed as I said. “Not everything is a ‘friends-to-lovers’ trope. We are just two friends, hanging out over dinner.” Mars finally got up from my bed, walking towards the exit of my bedroom door.
“Sure, tell me how that goes tonight,” she said, closing the door behind her.
…
It was cozy in the restaurant when we got there. The lights were dim to set the mood; clearly this place was a lot more fancy than both of us anticipated it. Milo and I finally take our seats, thanking the waiter as he handed us the menus.
“I feel like I’m underdressed,” Milo said as he tugged on the collar of his button-down shirt. His hair was tied back in a low ponytail; something that he only did for formal events. It made me feel a bit nervous. What if he saw this as a date? Am I leading him on? Does he really see me as more than just a friend–
“Pep?” he finally said, snapping me out of my train of thought. I blinked, looking directly at him.
“Yeah?”
“You good?” he said with a smile on his face.
“Yeah–No, you look fine,” I waved off, not realizing I just called Milo fine. I squeezed my eyes shut. “I mean, what you’re wearing is fine for the occasion.”
“Thanks,” Milo said, taking a sip of water. “Was Mars upset for watching both Mollie and Milo tonight?”
“She was,” I began to answer, smirking. “But she loves me enough to do me a favor.” Milo laughed out loud, something that he used to do when we were back in school together.
“Well, let her know that I appreciate her efforts,” Milo commented. I nodded, looking down at the menu nearly starving in my seat.
“I shouldn’t have waited until now to finally eat something because I now want the entire restaurant,” I commented, skimming through the pages. “My mom said the food was to die for here.”
“That’s a big deal coming from a chef,” he commented, looking down at his menu.
“Yeah, she had went here with Alex one time and really enjoyed it,” I continued to say, finally pointing at the thing I wanted. “Oh, this is definitely what I’m getting; you should try it too.”
“Hmm. Maybe I will,” Milo said, looking down at the menu. It wasn’t that long after that the waiter came back to our table, getting us our drinks. I was thankful the drinks came out first; I felt like it was needed for us to feel more comfortable in this type of setting.
“So, Milo,” I began to say, taking a sip of white wine. “What do you do for fun?”
“Fun?” he asked.
“Yeah. Like, what do you do when you’re not teaching or taking care of Milo?” Milo sat there pondering, taking a while to actually answer. “Milo?”
“I… don’t really have hobbies these days,” Milo finally answered, holding the back of his neck.
“What do you mean you don’t have hobbies? What the hell do you do for fun?”
Milo shrugged his shoulders and laughs. “I don’t really have time to do things other than work and take care of Milo.”
“Dude, you’re 25 going on 45. You can’t just be known as Milo’s dad–“
“I kinda been just ‘Milo’s dad’ for the last nine years, Pep.” I looked at Milo, and I immediately felt sorry for Milo. Growing up with Milo were some of the best childhood memories I had. Milo was creative and artistic; he was always playing some sort of instrument when we were younger. It somewhat makes me fear of parenthood; will I also lose myself when I decide to have kids in the future?
I chugged the rest of my white wine and placed the glass on the table. I dug into my purse, taking out a couple of dollar bills. Milo watched on with a confused look on his face.
“Pep?”
“Let’s go,” I demanded, smiling back at him.
“We didn’t even eat yet,” Milo nervously laughed. I picked up Milo’s drink, handing it over to him.
“We will; just not here,” I said. “Now drink up.”
…
Although I had a plan in mind to get some fun back in Milo’s life, I wasn’t anticipating that it would be pouring rain by the time we left the restaurant. We ran down the streets of Brooklyn; some of which I haven’t been down since being back home. We finally got to the stage of the park in our neighborhood, escaping the rain by going underneath the roof of it.
Milo and I were soaked from the rain, all while being in our formal attire.
“Was this part of your plan?” Milo teased, squeezing the excess water from his hair. I laughed, looking out from the stage towards the benches in front of it. “What are we even doing here?”
“Do you remember when we used to perform on this stage?” I asked, looking at Milo now. “Some of our first shows were on this stage.”
“How can I forget,” Milo answered, looking out at the benches now. “I nearly puked on the side of the stage in the summer of ‘06.”
“Oh my god, I remember that!” I said, laughing at the memory. “And Nicki got all bent out of shape when her bass guitar was all out of tune.” I smiled at Milo, recalling the memories of our childhood. “Do you miss it?”
“The band?” He asked. I nodded my head in response. Milo sighed, looking out at the rain hitting the seats in front of the stage. “When I think about it; yeah.”
“The band was like your baby,” I added on. “You fought with me all freshman year about making Danny our drummer.” Milo nodded his head as if he also remembered the memory. “Now you guys are practically brothers.”
“Well, that was just me being overprotective of you,” he responded, now looking at me. I didn’t realize just how many freckles were on his face. Were those always there?
“Protect me from what?” I finally asked. Milo hesitated to answer; he bit the bottom of his lip, thinking of his answer.
“You getting hurt,” he answered. He seemed nervous, but not in an uncomfortable way. He looked at me as I looked at him. I was the one to break it off, beginning to get up from the ground of the stage. He followed doing so too.
“Pep,” Milo began to say, clearing his throat. “Before the rain gets bad again, why don’t we order something in and have dinner at my house?”
I looked at his face and immediately felt smitten. Why does this feel somewhat natural? Why does this feel the way that it does?
“That sounds nice,” I answered, trying to maintain my composure.
…
Milo opened the front door of his apartment, turning the light on and walked in. I looked around his place as he locked the door behind us.
“Let me get you some dry clothes,” Milo insisted, walking toward his bedroom. While he was in there, I walked toward the living room area, noticing the balcony. The sky was clearing up, and the city skyline underneath it.
I turned around once I heard Milo walking out from his room. “Here you go,” he said, handing me a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt.
“Thank you,” I said, walking towards his bathroom. I turned the light on and was immediately facing the mirror. I looked horrendous and he didn’t even say anything. I took off the drenched dress, and put on Milo’s clothes. Why do they smell like him?
I slapped my cheeks with my hands, keeping me focused. “It’s just dinner.” I held my face, looking into the mirror. “It’s just dinner with Milo… at his house… in his clothes.” The more I spoke, the more anxious I became. “It’s just Milo.”
Yeah, that’s the problem. It’s just Milo.
I walked out the bathroom, seeing Milo already in the living room, sitting on the couch. He got up with his phone, walking toward me.
“We could do Thai food, or Sushi,” Milo suggested.
“Sushi? As takeout?” I asked.
“I still promised you a dinner,” Milo said, nervously laughing before clearing his throat. I smiled back, leaning against the back of the couch.
“Let’s do both,” I answered.
…
We definitely ordered way more than we needed to, but we both couldn’t decide on what dishes to get. We both nearly finished everything we ended up getting.
Milo and I continued to eat, occasionally having conversations in between. Milo had took out a bottle of wine to have with our food. I didn’t protest when he began pouring me a glass.
I picked up a forkful of noodles, quickly chewing on them. “I saw the view you have from your balcony window. It’s nice,” I mentioned, trying to start up casual conversation.
“I got lucky with that one; the other side of the building is just concrete—“”
“It’s… breathtaking, to say the least,” I laughed as I said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the city like that.” Milo picked up his glass of wine, taking a larger sip than he’d preferred.
“I lied to you,” Milo said to me. Before I could even react, Milo speaks before me. “About… my hobbies.”
I was confused. “Your hobbies?”
“What I do in my spare time,” Milo followed up with. “What I do with my time.” I didn’t say anything, hoping he’d tell me already. “I still make music. I still perform here from time to time,” he continued with his confession. “I’d sometimes sit outside on the balcony at night and just write.”
I smiled before I said anything. “I knew Milo Kamalani wouldn’t just stop doing music forever.” Milo laughed, his face getting red. All he’s missing is his purple beanie to fit the image of him I remembered.
“I have a show in a couple of weeks if you’re interested,” Milo quickly mentioned. “It’s at the music conservatory.”
“Of course I’d be interested,” I mentioned, smiling at him. “It’s… been so long,” I let slip out, not really knowing why I did in the first place.
“From what?” Milo asked.
“Since we’ve actually seen each other do our things,” I said. “Since we’ve seen each other in our prime.”
“It has,” Milo agreed, taking a sip of his wine. It reminded me to maybe do the same thing. So I did, and I instantly winced from the burn.
“Why’d it take so long?” I asked, not really knowing why I did. Milo reacted to the question, definitely he wasn’t expecting it.
“The last couple of years were rough—” Milo began to explain, I immediately interrupted him. This is the conversation that we’d both didn’t want to happen.
“We always were fighting with each other,” I spat out. “And even then we made sure we’d support each other and their dreams—”
“Things were different, Pep,” Milo responded in a more serious manner. “We weren’t teenagers anymore. This wasn’t high school anymore—”
“Just say that my time in college meeting Cullen is the reason,” I angrily said out loud, feeling defensive. I felt it all come up; the years that had passed in silence. My time in North Carolina. My time leaving North Carolina. The many times I’d thought about him that entire year I was there.
“What was I supposed to say, Pep?” Milo began to get defensive now. “How many times would I have to say it until you’d believe in the words I’d say?”
“I needed you there, Milo,” I shouted out loud.
“I—” Milo stopped mid sentence. He seemed genuinely stunned. Like he wasn’t expecting that.
My face softened, feeling defeated. “I hated that the one person I needed at that time wasn’t there.”
“You left New York,” Milo spat back at me. I wanted nothing more than to just yell in his stupid face. “You made your decision long before we argued about it.”
Before I allowed any tears to fall, I wiped any that fought their way through. “I didn’t have a choice.”
Milo didn’t say anything afterwards, he just leaned in toward the table, looking directly at me.
“I know,” Milo gently said. “Which is why I said things were different. Our lives were going in different directions, and neither one of us wanted the other to make ourselves smaller for our own benefit.” Milo looked at me, and instantly I’m fighting the tears again.
All I wanted was to feel like myself again. All I wanted at that time was to be 12-years old again, singing with the band in the garage. All I wanted was to sit at our booth in Sal’s Pizza, eating multiple slices of pizza while we spoke about the things that were important to teenagers at the time. All I wanted was to feel somewhat of that spark I use to feel whenever I was with Milo.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said, failing to hold back any more tears. Milo grabbed a couple of napkins from the takeout bag, handing them over to me. “I–“
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Pep,” Milo interrupted me before I went on a spiral. I looked at him, wondering how he always knew when to reassure me. He smiled before letting out a deep breath. “We both said some horrible things to each other in the past, yet somehow we found our way back to each other.”
I smiled at him. “We always do.”
It happened quicker than I was able to process what was happening. Before I was able to see the situation for what it was, it was already too late. We then kissed each other on the lips. Eyes closed. Sparks flying.
