Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or anything. So don't sue me.
AN: Spoilers for the third book. A million thanks to Hope for the beta.
Around the second week of October, Tibby wished she were back in high school.
It wasn't that she didn't like college, because she did. She liked the classes, she liked the people, and she really liked her screenwriting professor, who was passionate about the craft and doled out both praise and criticism without making you feel like a complete idiot.
She didn't like the food in her building, watery hot chocolate and stale sandwiches from vending machines, but she was in New York City now. She could go out anytime and have spinach samosas for breakfast, or eat lunch at a place that served miso soup with four-cheese lasagna.
In general, Tibby liked the city and the things it was filled with: bright lights, yellow taxicabs, people who walked through the streets, full of purpose, always sure they were headed somewhere.
Granted, she felt a little lost next to those people. She didn't look or dress any different from them here, in Manhattan, she was just another girl with blue hair and a nose ring but she felt different. She came from somewhere else and the natives could always tell.
At first, Tibby had liked the anonymity of NYU. There was never any pressing need for her to socialize and make friends. She knew a handful of people from her classes and her dorm, but most of the time she was content to spend her Saturdays taking her video camera with her on the subway and filming whatever she saw. That was another thing she liked the subway, except once when she was trying to go downtown, she took the wrong train and ended up in Brooklyn.
She got used to getting lost in the shuffle of the city, but after a while, she began to miss her place in the world. She longed for the comfortable space she'd carved out with Lena, Carmen, and Bridget. She wished she were back in high school again, not because she secretly missed sharing a P.E. locker with slobs or having to get a hall pass whenever she wanted to go to the bathroom. She wished she were back in high school because she knew who she was there. She was Tibby, the disaffected cynic. She was as sure of that as Lena was beautiful, Carmen was explosive, and Bridget was stronger than anybody Tibby had ever known.
Without her friends around, Tibby wasn't sure where she stood anymore. They had promised that they wouldn't let college change their friendship, and so far, it hadn't. Not much. They still spent hours calling each other, running up huge phone bills. They held 2 a.m. IM sessions and shared the intricate details of their lives, so that they could feel like they were living them together.
But Tibby knew it was different, somehow. Their lives were now divided into two: everything that came before, when they were together; and everything that came after.
Tibby had reasoned with herself to be open to possibility, because she knew that was the only way to bend and not break.
Still, on some nights, when the window was open but there were no stars, and a siren wailed down the street, Tibby just wished she were home again, with the familiarity of her chaos.
Tibby couldn't really explain how she felt to anybody, not even Brian. For all intents and purposes, Brian was her boyfriend, even though neither of them had admitted that out loud.
Brian had come to visit the second week after classes began. He slept on Tibby's floor for three days before going back to Maryland. He had wanted to stay longer, but his mother was sick, and his stepfather needed him around to take care of her.
A part of Tibby was sorry that he had to leave so soon, and another part of her was relieved. She liked Brian, loved him, even. Her stomach always fluttered when he kissed her, her ears turning warm whenever she caught him looking at her when he thought she wasn't aware.
Nevertheless, Tibby's relationship with Brian was a lot like the relationship she'd had with first grade. She recalled how people would ask her, "Aren't you excited? You'll get to learn how to read! And add! And subtract!" Tibby had liked first grade enough, but she couldn't help but feel a sense of "Now what?"
Being friends with Brian for so long made his becoming her boyfriend the next logical step, but Tibby wasn't sure what should come after. She only knew that she could never seem to talk about Brian the same way Lena used to talk about Kostos, the way Bee talked about Eric now.
So Tibby couldn't talk to Brian (but she played Dragon Master Online with him every other day). She knew she could talk to her friends, but she didn't know if they would understand.
Lena had always been special. Beautiful Lena, the artist. She would listen and offer comfort in an almost motherly manner after all, she was the oldest of the Septembers but Tibby didn't think Lena would know what it's like to feel lost.
Bridget used to be lost, treaded water for a long time, but she managed to find herself. Tibby never doubted her for a minute, because Bee was more capable than anyone could imagine.
Carmen was Carmen, so unapologetically herself, full of emotions and not afraid to show them. She had a secure place in the world; she made herself queen.
Tibby ended up calling Carmen, and over the phone, Carmen read out the personality quiz in this month's issue of Cosmo, which tested what type of romantic getaway you were.
"A weekend in the country?" Carmen scoffed. "That is so not you, Tibby. Oh, well, let's check our horoscopes. Hang on a sec, I'm in the middle of doing my nails. I got this new polish that I have to lend you next time, you'll love it."
Tibby didn't know if it was the promise of new nail polish or simply the sound of Carmen's voice, but she felt a little better.
Tibby went home for Thanksgiving. She didn't know what homesickness meant until she got off the Metroliner and found Carmen waiting for her at the station. Carmen screamed as soon as Tibby stepped off the train, and threw herself at Tibby. Tibby laughed so hard she almost cried, but it was all right because Carmen was already crying.
Lena and Bridget's train was due in forty-five minutes, so they bought overpriced coffee at the kiosk and took over a gum-free bench while they waited, filling each other in on what had happened since they last talked.
Lena and Bee finally arrived and after more hugging, more crying, and some spilt coffee, they went home. They promised to devote the next day to pure, uninterrupted reserved-for-the-Septembers time.
Tibby discovered that she had practically achieved celebrity status in the eyes of Katherine and Nicky. She had missed them so much while she was gone, she could almost overlook the fact that neither of them quite grasped the concept of knock-knock jokes, which they were currently infatuated with. They would burst out in hysterical laughter after the "who's there?" and they were so pleased with themselves that Tibby didn't bother to delve into deeper explanation.
The holiday flurried with activity. Tibby's family did the traditional all-American Thanksgiving, complete with football and turkey and pumpkin pie, and Nicky getting sick after too much dessert. The Septembers spent their days together, aimlessly wandering around town, mostly enjoying each other's presence and talking about midterms and clubs and other bits and pieces of their separate lives.
Tibby visited Margaret at the movie theatre and bought her another Orange Creamsicle, even though it was getting too cold for ice cream. She went to Brian's house to find him, and when he kissed her goodbye, there was that spark of feeling again, but it only lasted for a second.
When it came time to leave, Tibby was surprised that amid the sadness she carried with her, there was also a part of her that wanted to be back at NYU. She was looking forward to finishing her project for her animation workshop, and she couldn't wait to hear the stories her screenwriting prof would tell the class about his Thanksgiving.
With a little wistfulness and a little gladness, she saw that her friends were the same, and for the first time, it struck her that it was real. That they had new lives now, which contained many more things than just their friendship. It made her happy and sad at the same time, because she knew their friendship would outlast everything, but she also knew things were never going to be the same from now on.
A week before school let out for winter break, Carmen came to visit Tibby. Carmen had finished her exams early and she wanted a hands-on experience of living in New York City..
"Try not to get hit by a cab," was Tibby's advice to her.
Carmen was born to live in Manhattan. Within two hours, she had mastered the art of jaywalking, discovered where the world's best falafels were sold, and even managed to make sense of the transit system.
"It's too bad Lena has an exhibit and Bee's in the middle of a tournament," Carmen said as they headed toward Union Square. "It would be so much fun, the four of us here. I mean, look at this."
Carmen gestured to a coffee parlor where you could get a tattoo to go with your latte. Tibby had been equally amused when she first came across this place, but the novelty had worn off. The coffee wasn't that great.
"We won't do any touristy things, of course. Maybe we'll just get on any old train and see where it takes us." Carmen continued planning the Septembers' ideal trip to New York while Tibby filmed her with her new DVC. Carmen wasn't like Lena, who hated cameras and always asked Tibby to turn hers off. Carmen made faces or posed herself in weird positions until she got bored and let Tibby film whatever she wanted.
They found their way to Union Square Park, and Tibby was in the middle of filming a gaggle of pigeons when something light and cold brushed her cheek. She looked up to see that it was beginning to snow.
"Tibby, check this out," Carmen said, laughing. She stuck out her tongue to catch a snowflake. Tibby remembered how, when they were little, she and Carmen and Lena and Bee had a theory that each snowflake tasted different, and they always tried to prove it whenever it snowed.
"Carmen, that's gross." But Tibby was laughing too, and she did the same.
The air was cold and the sky was gray, as though someone had taken a dirty eraser and smudged all over it. The snow was falling more heavily now, and Tibby could hear traffic and people yelling and a panhandler playing the banjo to "Battle Hymn of the Republic." These were all sounds of New York City, definitely not of Bethesda, Maryland, but with Carmen by her side, grabbing onto her arm and watching the first snowfall in wonderment, Tibby almost felt as if she were home.