We sit contentedly on the edge of the back porch, musing over the incessant laughter of our parents escaping through the windowpanes of the house behind us and marveling at the vast black sky that has chosen to display its jewels to us this warm May evening. Hugging my bare legs close to me, I pick apart a blade of grass still able to smell the smoldering aftermath of a raging barbeque that has taken place just hours before. The images of Mr. Philips and my own father in their matching “Kiss the Chef” aprons concocting masterpieces of hamburgers and hotdogs still cause a smile to form at my lips at the thought of such warm memories. “It seems like nothing has changed,” I think silently. I glance at the form of Cameron next to me on our porch swing, his dark eyes closed, his gold hair smashed against the cushion behind him. Then I realize I’m wrong.
“Cammy, wake up!” My head immediately jolts upwards to gaze with astonishment into the eyes of Cameron’s older brother Randy. “Hey guys, I brought you some dessert. He puts down a box of Neapolitan ice cream and some white plastic bowls on the ledge of the deck and begins messing up Cameron’s hair. I watch with amusement such an uncharacteristic scene after glancing curiously in the direction of Oliva in front of me.
“Cut it out Rand, I’m not in the mood.” I try to suppress a smile, as Randy continues to be slightly belligerent. He starts slapping his younger brother playfully on his tanned arms. Cameron has gone to sleep at two o’clock for the past week trying to accomplish all our junior year demands, and I can sense his patience ebbing. “Randy, cut it out!” He yells and then they are on the grass, rolling on top of each other in what appears to be a fierce battle, but judging from the mixture of yelping and laughter, I can tell that Cameron and Randy are engaged some distorted way of male bonding.
“Do we have to go run and get the hose?” Olivia hollers as we both can’t help but giggle. She looks at me in shock and I smile and nod my head, my eyes wide. Is this really Cameron’s older brother wrestling across the dirt of my back yard? What happened to the shy, intellectual, silent boy that spent his time memorizing all of the constellations and world capitals? I stare at the college boy across the lawn, his dark and slightly curly hair now crowning his head remembering how short he used to keep it. His bulging shoulder muscles are defined in the moonlight beneath his tee shirt when in high school his figure was less than Greek, and his loud voice replacing the quiet murmurings of the past. I can tell Olivia has noticed the changes as well as she draws her prized lip gloss out of the pocket of her blue shorts to apply liberally. Princeton has definitely served Randy well both mentally and physically.
I watch both of them walk back towards us, both red faced and heaving and suddenly Randy slings his brown arm across Cameron’s shoulders indicating that even though he looks dramatically different, Randy has not yet lost his golden sense of family priority and generosity. They stumble up the steps together, and soon Randy has dished out piles of multi flavored ice cream for all of us.
I dig up a spoonful of chocolate hungrily before jamming it in my mouth. “So tell us about college,” I say between bites looking almost shyly in Randy’s direction. “It must be strange suddenly being home again.” I stretch out my legs so that they touch the wooden panels of the porch, and cross my feet together.
He grins happily, leaning comfortably against the porch’s railings. “It is just amazing,” he sighs, “and fun,” he adds. We all listen intently, as blinded moths hurtle themselves at the illuminated rooms around us. “It is so strange and sometimes frustrating being home, because for months I didn’t have to care about anyone but myself.” He laughs at such honesty. “Everyone is so cool, you know? You meet people every where in your dorms, across campus, in the library.” I smirk at the mention of books, a small part of the old Randy shining through.
“Do you play college lacrosse?” I inquire, my eyes widening after discovering the orange Princeton lacrosse label on the right leg of his black athletic shorts. Randy has never participated in a sport in my entire six years of knowing him.
“Nah,” he shrugs good naturedly, “a bunch of my friends and I play on a Princeton intramural team in the spring, we just wear the shorts to designate our players.” He takes an excited breath, “that’s another thing Dar, the bunch of guys in my dorm and I totally click, we are just crazy sometimes!” I smile, trying to picture Randy being crazy at anything. “I did miss my family though,” Randy tells us tousling Cameron’s hair once again.
“You missed the car!” Cameron retorts smacking his arms again. “You guys wouldn’t believe it.” He informs us with our rapt attention, “He came home and went straight for the Explorer, he sat in it for hours! He didn’t even go drive it, he just SAT in the stupid thing hugging the steering wheel like a grown baby!” We all laugh loudly, finishing the remaining hills of desert still melting in our laps.
Suddenly Cameron’s mother appears in the doorway of the sitting room. “Randy, Brooke is on the phone.” We watch smirking as Randy shoots up onto his feet and snatches the phone eagerly. Olivia and I instantly search the face of Cameron for information as to whether our instincts ring true. He nods, confirming that Brooke is not just some random girl, obviously in just as much shock as we are.
“Do you think we’re going to change that much when we go away to school?” I ask them speculatively. I glance over at the face of my sister, who in just a couple months will be making the broad step into her own future.
“I bet we will.” Cameron murmurs. “We probably won’t think that we’ve changed in any way, but I’m sure others around us will be able to see a difference.” A gentle breeze passes through the trees, causing them to sway slowly beneath the stars. I smile to myself with wonder, trying to imagine a whole new school, a whole new world full of people that in some ways are very similar to myself. The whole college preparation and decision making process is indeed quite a burden. It’s a weight found on every Juniors’ and Seniors’ shoulders that cannot be lifted until one sunny day after running to the mailbox, they find a large envelope addressed to them, bulging with acceptance papers. Its something that cannot be put into words, articulating this stressing is an impossible feat. In the end though, when an eager senior finally does pick what school they want to attend all they can hope for is that that place is going to be simply a perfect fit. As my parents continue chattering inside, and the crickets drone loudly their summer song, I stare up at the sky, contemplating the opportunities of the future, as endless as the shimmering stars.
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