Chapter Text
December 2005;
I-75 S, Georgia, USA//
Kelley drags her thumb clockwise around the wheel of her iPod. She can only hope that her eardrums start to bleed. The gentle hum of the car engine stirred in with oldies Christmas carols crooning in the background used to be able to lull her into some semi-conscious state, but today, with Jerry and Erin bickering in the backseat with her, it’s nearly impossible.
The annual family drive from Fayetteville to Savannah is as boring as it’s ever been. Endless stretches of freeway, leafless trees dotting the way, and then every so often they pass through small towns of civilization. A tiny beacon of light on an otherwise dull drive; and then more roads of nothing.
Jerry is tall and lanky; his knees pressed firmly and awkwardly into the back of the passenger seat- a recipe for disaster for an already whiny teenager. And then there’s Erin who’s small and fits comfortably in the middle- Kelley’s sidekick through and through, but today she’s on her sister’s last nerve. Erin just likes to antagonize their brother by sitting as close to him as possible, occasionally jabbing at his sides. Kelley can handle it at home, in fact she’s almost always the instigator, but in the small confines of a car for four hours, it drives her to the point of insanity.
And Kelley is more restless than usual. She spends her time un-rhythmically bobbing her head to Kelly Clarkson and racing the melting snowflakes that sprinkle the window. She would much rather be at home, lounging in her sweatpants as terrible Christmas movies play in the background while her and her siblings fight over how to decorate their gingerbread house, ultimately resulting in a terrible of catastrophe of angrily displaced candies. They used to be able to each have their own house, but after the fated Christmas Disaster of ‘02 (there was icing everywhere), mom has only allowed them to have one.
“Think of it as team building,” she had said.
Kelley is still bitter.
The minutes pass achingly slow, Erin and Jerry finally reaching some kind of half-hearted truce with hardly forty-five minutes left.
“We’re almost there!” Dad sings from the front. There’s a hint of sarcasm to his voice because he hates this almost as much as Kelley does.
Kelley groans and leans forward, pressing her forehead into the back of the driver’s seat. She’s been dreading this inevitable weekend for years. Her three older female cousins have gone through it, Erin has gone through it, and now it’s her turn.
It’s the Christmas Cotillion; two words that have been the primary source of Kelley’s nightmares and anxiety for weeks.
“Aren’t you excited?” Erin beams, shaking her sister violently by the shoulders, to which she receives a swift and solid punch to the thigh. She yelps. Jerry snickers and mom rolls her eyes.
“Settle down.”
Roads of nothing turn into old stonewall buildings, white picket fences line the cobblestone streets, and there are dustings of silver and gold tinsel everywhere. Oh, the Christmas joy. It feels like they’ve travelled back in time some fifty years. Kelley knows the town well, none of this is any surprise, but there’s never been quite the distaste in her mouth like there is now.
Sometimes she feels like she was born into the wrong kind of family. She likes to dress up when the occasion is right, like dinners and small parties, but the life and title of a debutante is too official, too pretentious. It isn’t for someone who likes to play in the mud and stick worms in her mouth to gross out her sister, or have farting contests with her brother.
It’s dreadful, really. White ball gowns and elbow length gloves; curtseys and proper manners; being paraded on stage as if she’s for sale; it’s enough to make her want to run for the hills. Luckily, Georgia is a state with plenty.
-
Time seems to standstill for the weekend. So much preparation for a one-night event that somehow the buzzing atmosphere of the hotel seems to go unnoticed by Kelley. The same can’t be said for her mom, who has never been quite so stressed out before. Kelley wholeheartedly attributes that to the fact that this was so much easier with Erin; she lives and breathes the lifestyle of a debutante, while Kelley refuses to even touch her dress unless absolutely necessary. Not to mention that her feet in high heels are like oil in water.
She’s out of her element. She doesn’t belong in the high society and the proof is in the way the whole event is a train wreck from start to finish, as if Pandora’s Box had been opened the moment the garment bag was unzipped.
Kelley gets poked in the eye with mascara and feigns momentary blindness, shouting and dramatically flailing to the floor in the hopes of avoiding this whole ordeal; Erin loses the earrings that all of the O’Haras have worn for this specific occasion (but then finds them at the very last minute); Dad’s suit is a little too tight; Jerry has gone AWOL; Kelley almost trips on stage; the list of disasters is endless.
She just wants to go home.
Then comes the final dance of the night and it couldn’t have come soon enough. Kelley is tired, frustrated, her feet hurt, and her hands are sweating gallons inside her satin gloves. She groans at the prospect of having to dance with yet another clueless adolescent boy, or a boy that’s too pompous and shallow for his own good- there comes a point when too many Ivy League colleges awaiting one’s destiny becomes a bad thing.
Her mom shoots her half hopeful, half worried thumbs ups from a distance.
And that’s when she meets David.
* * *
August 2006;
Fayetteville, Georgia//
David has transitioned seamlessly into the O’Hara family. He’s kind, he’s smart, his table side manners are impeccable, and he makes Kelley’s dad chuckle like a schoolgirl with a crush at all of his overly sophisticated jokes that Kelley doesn’t care for. He even does this hair flip thing that makes Erin swoon a little bit and Jerry jealous that he can’t. He helps with dishes after dinner so much so that mom barely has to lift a finger.
“Be more like your boyfriend,” she likes to tease Kelley, who just rolls her eyes back.
It’s sort of exactly then, watching David flawlessly charm her parents into this unguarded state of comfort and security, and after eight months of Kelley trying to convince herself that there’s a future with him, that she realizes this has been more of a relationship between David and her parents than David and herself.
It’s disconcerting.
Kelley tries to not make much of it. She likes David, kind of, maybe. It’s mostly just scary because he’s on some kind of relationship fast track and Kelley is still getting her footing.
It’s also becoming increasingly more difficult with Kelley going to New York University in just over a week, and David staying at a stateside college. Her parents had tried to convince her to stay home as well, but the entire family knows of her strange obsession with New York City.
Independence was most important. Kelley wants to be far enough away from home that she can have her own true sense of it; and NYU (aside from Princeton) was the only college that accepted her that promises an equal balance all four seasons, not just mostly summer.
Silly, maybe, but it’s the little things that always win her over.
Kelley excuses herself to her room while David, Jerry, and dad talk mindlessly about football in the den. Half empty boxes and suitcases clutter her bedroom and she clears a small space on the floor for herself next to a heap of “ready to be packed” clothes.
It’s exceptionally warm and humid tonight; the photographs pinned to the walls curling at the corners and Olly can be heard panting from all the way downstairs.
She’s halfway through packing a box of books when there’s a quiet knock at her door and David peaks his head in.
“Hey, Peach.” His southern drawl is a lot thicker than Kelley’s; Kelley’s only really comes out after her parents have allowed her to have a glass of wine at dinner. Even then it’s pretty weak, but she likes to exaggerate it.
“Hey, Plum,” she says clearing a space for him next to her. David can tell Kelley’s not in the mood for a whole lot of talk so he sits there quietly helping her fold clothes and put them into suitcases.
In a way it feels like the end of an era; no more late summer nights of sneaking around and drinking coolers in the abandoned boathouse by the edge of the lake behind the O’Hara residence, no more mason jars of warm apple cider and cinnamon sticks waiting for them on the kitchen counter in the winter, and most importantly for Kelley, no more fancy black tie events where David totes her around like an accessory.
It’s not entirely his fault; she knows that, both of their parents are just eager to start some blossoming fairytale romance between them.
It’s a relief more than anything.
“So college next week, huh?” Kelley breaks the silence. It suddenly feels so surreal and a tad overwhelming.
“Time flies, don’t it?” David reaches for the purple sash that hangs on the back of Kelley’s chair- Starr’s Mill High School Prom Queen 2006 it reads.
“Yeah, seems like I met you just yesterday at that lame cotillion,” Kelley teases, snatching the sash away from him. She only kept it because he had told her to, even if he doesn’t have a matching prom king one.
“It wasn’t that lame. If you hadn’t gone, I’d have never met you.”
“No, you’re right,” Kelley agrees, “Prom was lamer.”
David rolls his eyes through a smile. Kelley’s sarcastic and carefree attitude has always been one of her biggest charms. It’s just so uncharacteristic for the likes a debutante (Kelley will forever wince at the word) that it somehow works. It’s kept David on his toes.
“I promise the distance won’t hurt us,” he says, his eyes hopeful and genuine. His plea for Kelley to stay home had also gone unrequited. Kelley says nothing for a moment, unable to meet his gaze. The air gets thicker.
“Listen, David,” she finally says softly, her eyes are questioning. Recognition washes over him, as if he can tell what Kelley’s about to say. “I think that maybe there shouldn’t be an ‘us’ while we’re apart.”
“I- I don’t understand. Why?”
“Don’t you think that’ll get really complicated? How are we possibly going to find time for each other?”
“Dad is getting me a MacBook. We can video chat, we can text. You’ll be home for the holidays, I can visit you on some weekends. You know that the money isn’t an issue.”
Kelley sighs. The money is an issue though. Somehow, it always comes back to that. Whether or not David has been doing it consciously, he’s been trying to buy Kelley’s affection from the start with expensive presents among other things and she hates it. What on earth is she supposed to do with a five hundred dollar diamond encrusted purse? She’s certainly not about to tote it around in public.
“I just don’t want there to be an ‘us’ right now. I wanna to go college as a free person and just, you know, be free.”
“You can still be free and be with me.” There’s a slight panic edging into David’s tone, his demeanor visibly shaken. “It’s not like I’ve ever kept you on a chain.”
“It’s not about that.”
“So you want to see other people, then.” David says. Kelley puts her hand on his knee then removes it.
“No, David, I just- “ She’s trying to not let her irritation show but she isn’t succeeding. “We can still talk and stuff, like, I’ll always care about you, but I really need this break. I can’t be committed right now. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”
David shakes his head. The sadness in his eyes turns into disappointment. As a weight settles onto his shoulders, one lifts off of Kelley’s.
“Okay, Peach.” David’s voice is a whisper and his jaw in clenched. He knows Kelley well enough to know that there isn’t any point in fighting. “Whenever you decide you’ve had enough of your break, I’ll be waiting.” He places one firm kiss on Kelley’s forehead and exits the room before she can say anything else.
Kelley listens to him trail down the stairs and exchange a few words with her parents. There are faint “oh nos,” and “I’m sorrys,” and then the front door opens and closes.
* * *
September 2006,
New York City, New York//
New York City is a whirlwind of excitement from the moment Kelley steps off the plane. It’s a whole other world and despite what she thought she knew about it, she really knows nothing. The city looks the same as the pictures, except it’s is alive with a certain, unique kind of electrifying vigor and that’s how she knows she’s in the right place.
It’s definitely not small town Georgia.
Kelley is lucky to have Erin with her during her first week, staying at a close by hotel to help with the transitions and the moving. She’s mostly thankful for Erin’s map reading and navigational skills because already, in a city that’s laid out like a grid, Kelley has managed to get them lost.
It still feels like summer in early September, sunshine peaking through the skyscrapers, warm breezes, and pockets of the stagnant stench of hot garbage. Kelley doesn’t mind; living next to a lake during scorching Georgia summers has trained her nose well.
The promise of autumn and a real snowfall are what keeps her spirits up, excited and waiting. She doesn’t bring an entire suitcase full of scarves, beanies, and boots for nothing.
The hardest part is getting used to the people. There are just so many and no one ever really takes the time to smile or make eye contact.
On the first Monday, Kelley, too caught up in a conversation with her sister, accidentally walks into a man on the street. She apologizes, but he grumbles and trudges away.
On Tuesday, she smiles at the woman next to her waiting for the train, but is immediately given the cold shoulder.
On Wednesday, an old man angrily huffs and puffs around her because she’s walking too slow.
By Friday, she’s already been conditioned. Kelley walks with her eyes downcast to the cement, muttering some useless information to Erin as she bumps into a woman, a mix of red high heels and a glimpse of a small wrist tattoo flash by her. She doesn’t even bother to look up and apologize before a faint “sorry” trails away with the woman.
“You’ll get used to it,” Erin says.
“Already am,” Kelley confirms.
-
Erin leaves on the Sunday, two days before the start of Kelley’s classes. The goodbye is bittersweet, a few shed tears between the sisters and then Kelley is own her own.
It’s nerve-wracking and a little bit scary, but she’s been preparing for this for months.
That aside, Kelley settles in nicely. She was fortunate to hit it off with her roommate, Sydney as easily as she did; she’s already shown Kelley thirty minutes worth of pictures of her dog, Boss.
“Is that a rat?” Kelley had said feigning disgust, to which Sydney had threatened to switch rooms or have Kelley thrown out if she didn’t drop that attitude.
Their dorm is bland and lifeless, but they’re each quick to make a home out of their halves; Kelley tacking pictures of her friends and family to the pale walls, and organizing her closet space in the best and only way she knows how- just shove everything in there; and Sydney with an impeccably organized dresser and a singular picture of Boss and her mom taped to the wall next to her pillow.
Kelley has a framed picture of her and David from the Christmas Cotillion, dressed to nines, that she refuses to put on display (she’s not even sure why she brought it) and it made Sydney laugh hysterically the first time she saw it because they’ve been living together for a week and a half already, and she’s only ever seen Kelley in pants that have an elastic waistband and hair in messy haphazard buns.
-
“David, I have to go, okay…no…another time…yes, fine…okay, goodbye.”
Kelley hangs up the phone and flops face down into her pillow. She lets out a long, frustrated groan before rolling onto her back. David has called every night for the past week and always at the worst times. When he does, he never really has much of importance to talk about anyways. Usually just “I miss you” and “you’ll never guess what Jerry did today,” except Kelley is never far off from her guesses because her brother is as predictable as a clock.
Today was “Jerry hopped a fence and ripped his pants.”
“Why don’t you just breakup with him for real if he makes you so miserable?” Sydney says from her bed, lowering her book to nose level. She’s a good sport for putting up with Kelley’s boy struggles and Kelley’s grateful she hasn’t built a wall between their beds yet.
“It’s not that he makes me totally miserable, he’s just so intense and way ahead of me.”
“So tell him to slow down.”
“He’s on cruise control. Besides, it’s complicated.”
Syd rolls onto her side to face Kelley. “I mean, for me, it’s either you like him or you don’t. There are tons more people in New York that could be worth your time.”
Syd is right and Kelley knows that. She’s young; a blossoming flower in a giant garden of a city. There’s no way David could possibly be it. And it’s like Syd can read Kelley’s mind because what she says next sums up everything Kelley’s been feeling.
“I can understand if you’re scared, but just because he was the first person to make you feel a certain way, it doesn’t mean he’s going to be the last. You just need to put yourself out there.”
Kelley groans again and covers her eyes with her arm. “I don’t remember checking ‘therapist’ on the roommate request form.”
Syd shrugs, shifting her eyes back to her book. She’s smug, but also sympathetic. If Kelley doesn’t want to talk about it, she isn’t going to force her.
“Early morning tomorrow?” Syd asks.
“Yeah,” Kelley says, slipping under her covers. “Six o’clock.”
-
The week comes and goes quickly. Kelley manages to make it to most of her classes on time with the exception of getting lost only twice, which in her books is a success. She befriends two girls, Tobin and Ashlyn, who are in her chemistry class and are also coincidentally roommates and live on the same floor as her and Syd. All four of them make for an interesting group of friends, each one of them quirky in their own right.
It’s nice, a refreshing change from how uptight and serious Kelley’s friends were back home.
Tobin especially. She’s so laid back and unfazed by everything and Kelley really loves her for that; her company is great, but not overwhelming. Ashlyn is the complete opposite. Wild and crazy, a little bit in your face, but in a way that makes her warm and approachable. It makes so much sense that her and Tobin would along the way they do. It’s the perfect balance.
As for Kelley and Sydney?
Well, Sydney is like the second sister Kelley never had.