The next day, I wake up to sunshine and a house that smells like breakfast. Bacon and eggs, to be specific. I walk downstairs to find Mom and Bree cooking a scrumptious meal amidst a whorl of yummy smells. It's nice to see them working together after yesterday.
The clock reads eleven, so I guess it's more of a brunch. When everything is nearly ready, Bree and I set the table, and Dad arrives, looking fresh and shaved. Mom saunters up and kisses him.
"See what I mean?" she says to him. "It's much more pleasant to kiss you when your beard isn't getting in the way." Dad chuckles and kisses her again. Bree and I grin at each other. "Well, lunchfast is served," Mom says, one hand on her hip and a spatula in the other.
We sit down to enjoy this meal, and Bree says grace. When breakfast is over, I realize that the day seems a lot emptier now that school is canceled for—maybe the rest of my life. I put my dishes in the sink, and Bree offers to wash them. I leave for my room to work out.
"Be back downstairs in two hours," Dad calls.
"Okay," I respond, not knowing why Dad wants me back in that time frame. I start to close my door, and then my phone buzzes in my pocket. It's a text from Nat. I unlock my phone and go straight to the message.
Her: "I'm so bored right now… out of my freaking mind! Can I come over to your house?"
Me: "Um.. Yeah, possibly I'll have to check with my parents, you were just over here yesterday."
Her: "I know, but there's literally nothing to do!"
"Mom!" I yell from the top of the stairs and make my way down. "Nat's wondering if she can come over again. Her dad left last night for work and won't be back for about a week." I enter the living room. Mom is curious.
"Why would her dad just leave?"
"It might be related to the coronavirus," I offer.
"Yeah, she can come over."
"Thanks, Mom. She doesn't have anyone else right now."
"Mack?" Bree asks as I am leaving. I turn to look at her.
"What?" I ask, noticing the amused look on her face.
"There is no way you don't have even the slightest crush on Nat." I glower at her, and I can already feel my face heating up.
"Oh shut up," I say, annoyed that I am so embarrassed about something so small. Then I remember that I had thought about her last night as I fell asleep. I even had a dream about her and had forgotten about it until now.
Bree flashes a playful smile as I start to leave again. It shows that she isn't trying to make me hate her. She says those things not to make me feel bad, but to show me that I might have feelings for Nat after all. And by the time I acknowledge them, it may be too late. I return her a quick half-smile, and as I am leaving, I can see Mom on the couch with an amused look on her face. But she doesn't say anything.
I traipse upstairs to my room and close the door. As I am sitting down on my bed, I text Nat again.
Me: "My mom is okay with you coming over."
Her: "Awesome! I don't know what I would do all by myself."
Me: "LOL." Then she sends a "heart" emoji, and instead of sending it back, I send the "blowing kiss." Then she is offline.
I stretch out all the way on my bed and look up at my ceiling. It is fake clouds, birds, planes, and other things you would find in the sky hanging from it. I smile up at the array of dangling awesomeness. Models and smaller versions of bigger things in the world have always interested me.
In fact, there is a project that my dad and I are trying to finish before winter, and it's almost done. It's a four-part project: A gigantic sixty-five-acre structure that is sectioned into four specific areas. Inside these sections are simulated versions of Earth's seasons. The one we are currently working on is summer, and it is the last one to complete. It has taken just about my entire life to finish all the areas. Dad works on them almost whenever he doesn't have work, and I do whenever I don't have school. Sometimes we work together on them.
Remembering this project, I race downstairs to remind Dad that we should continue working on it some more. Then the doorbell rings, signaling Nat's arrival, and I jump to the door. When I open it, she practically jumps into my arms.
"Oh my gosh, I thought I was going to die from boredom!" she says a little awkwardly.
"Well, no need to worry any further." I look at her smiling.
After a pause, she asks, "So what's fun?"
"Oh, umm." I step back from our embrace so that I'm not shouting in Nat's ears. "Dad! I'm going to take Nat out to the back!" I call into the rest of the house.
"Kay kay! Be there in a bit!" he responds.
"You are absolutely going to love this." I step outside, and Nat, intrigued, takes my hand. I let her hold it as I lead her to the backyard.
We enter Seasons Warehouses, which is almost all the way hidden in the woods near the edge of town. The trees here are abnormally tall, providing adequate cover.
"Close your eyes. I'll guide you," I say, gently brushing the back of my hand from the top of her forehead down to her nose. She obliges, and I lead her to a long set of stairs that ends at a room labeled "Spring."
"What is this place?" Nat smiles big as we enter, taking in a deep breath.
"What does it smell like?" I ask in a quiet voice. She takes another deep breath.
"I smell new things blossoming." She frowns, "Are those birds I hear?"
"Open your eyes," I say, turning her to face more towards the center. She opens, and her breath catches. Before us is a waterfall cascading over a small rocky peak, into a freshwater pool at its base. Nat gazes farther and sees a lush green field. Next to it are acres of blooming trees and colorful flowers, and then finally a lake.
Each season has four of its own distinct areas. For Spring, they are: the Rocky Hills, the Green Fields, the Wooded Place, and the Lake. Each room has a total of sixteen acres.
Nat looks up in amazement, "You even have clouds! And those are birds!" She wraps an arm around my waist. "Are they real?"
I nod, "All of it is real. Every bit of wildlife and nature came from the government." She stares at me wide-eyed.
"The government? You got permission from the government to take nature and wildlife?" I nod again. "How high does the sky go?" Nat admires the clouds.
"Just over a hundred feet," I say. She looks at me again, this time with a new idea.
"Can I see the other rooms?"
"Of course! Summer is next door, I can show you that next. Fall is just the weather we already have outside, but Winter is cold, so you'll need a coat."
"Coats are for babies," she says. "So, are all the rooms complete?"
"Not quite. Summer is the last room to be finished. We have all the landscaping in place; we just need to add the wildlife and weather effects, like clouds, wind, rain, and thunderstorms. Stuff like that."
"Rain? Thunder?!" She continues to look dumbstruck.
"Yeah, we've got it all!" I continue to explain as we exit spring and walk to Summer. "Each room has a high-tech system that allows for rain, dew in the mornings, and other normal weather cycles. When the water falls on the ground, it's recycled either into the lake or the sky. And even some of the lake water evaporates back into the clouds. Then, when the weather is right, it might come back down as rain or hail. It's essentially the water cycle recreated at a smaller scale."
"So is each room the same scene?" Nat asks, looking around, noticing that the landscape is nearly identical to Spring.
"That's correct," Dad says—he has beaten us to the summer season. "Every room has the same terrain and trees. But each room, as my son probably told you, has different seasons. Each has unique weather. In the winter room, it snows and is sometimes sunny. In Spring, it rains, hails, and storms. And sometimes, with some manual input, there might be a small tornado! Only I or Macky has the key to operate it, though." He explains it like it's a weapon. "Yadda yadda, the summer room does most of the same things as Spring, and it's a lot hotter. Autumn is windy. We made them as close to the real seasons as possible." Nat feasts her eyes on Summer while listening to my dad boast about our creation.
There aren't any clouds or animals yet, but the beautiful rolling landscape and scenic view are enough to take anyone's breath away.
"I have to go get the water," Dad says, walking over to a truck that is parked near the fake horizon. Each room has hyper-realistically painted walls that look like they would be the surrounding landscape and sky. Only upon really close inspection could you see that they don't lead further.
Dad backs his pickup truck out of a hidden door that folds out of the horizon.
"So…" Nat is really close to me now. "Just how rich are you?" she asks.
"Well, it's not polite to brag..." I trail off.
"Come on," she urges. "You know I'm not attracted to you because you're rich. I was into you before I saw your house." There it is. She admits to me how she feels. I know we've been sending heart emojis in texts, but I thought it was just playful.Apparently not.
She turns to face me head-on, linking her arms around my neck and gazing into my eyes attentively.
"You know you have beautiful green eyes," I say dreamily. Totally ignoring my compliment, she presses further.
"How much?" she says just above a whisper. I sigh.
"I'm not telling you exactly. But I will say that it's probably in the upper forty mil." She leans in closer, and for a scary moment, I think she might kiss me.
Dad's truck pulls up, and she steps away. Why does she make me feel like this? My heart is racing, but I ignore it for now and walk over to his truck to help him. Dad connects a hose to the full tank in the bed of the truck, and I set out to find the maintenance hatch.
"This water will help make the clouds," Dad says to Nat.
"Hey Nat, check this out," I say, reaching for a hidden latch near the base of a few small boulders. I click it open and pull the door from the ground. Dad hands me the hose, and I carry it up the staircase that leads below ground. Nat follows hesitantly.
"What is this place?" she asks, full of wonder.
"This is where the water is put into the system," I say, smiling at her curiosity. There are pipes everywhere, gadgets, valves, different tanks, and multi-million-dollar equipment. We walk over to a specific tank that dominates the rest, and I climb a ladder to the top of it, holding the hose. When it is positioned inside the mouth of the tank, I holler at Dad to switch the valve. The water from the truck starts filling the groundwater tank. I jump down from the ladder, and Dad joins us below ground.
Nat heads for the stairs, "I'm gonna go to Spring if that's alright." Dad is just a few feet away, but he nods at her.
"Don't touch anything tech-related," he says.
"Don't worry, Mr. Renner, I will stick to nature," Nat says with a nervous laugh. When we are finished transferring the rest of the water, I ask Dad if he needs help with anything else.
"Nope, that's pretty much it. I just have to program a few things into the weather system."
"Okay, I'm heading out to Birch Park then."
"Kay."
I open the door that leads into the rest of the warehouse, then make my way to Spring and head inside. It's windy, and it looks like there might be a storm soon. I zip up my sweater and walk over to the treeline, then follow the stone path that leads to Birch Park. I find Nat sitting on one of the benches. I approach and quietly sit down next to her.
Neither of us says a thing at first; we just enjoy the warm breeze. Then, after about five minutes, Nat speaks.
"You didn't tell me there was a beautiful park here."
"I know," I turn to look at her and smile, leaning my back against the armrest. "I wanted you to find out for yourself. Maybe it's a bit more special that way." She nods slowly, then scoots closer to me, the wind gently blowing her hair around her face.
My breath catches, and for probably the first time, I acknowledge just how beautiful she is. Not just a cute girl from school, not just my crush—there, I said it, but perhaps something more.
"I could stay here all day," she says wistfully. "The wind in my hair, the giant gray clouds. This is my favorite type of weather."
"Mine too." I don't know what else to say. She brings herself even closer, her hips and thighs pressing up against mine. She reaches for my face and gently strokes my left cheek with her thumb.
"You're really my type," she says.
"You're definitely my type," I say before I can stop myself. Nat sighs and leans into my chest, and I wrap both my arms around her. I now realize the irony of the situation. We have only known each other for two and a half days, and already we are very close to each other, emotionally and physically.
We stay like that for at least an hour.
Then, in the distance, I faintly hear the heavy air-tight door to Spring open.
"Hey," I whisper in Nat's ear, "are you still awake?" She doesn't say anything, but I can feel the slight nod she gives. I hear shoes on the pavement as Bree walks toward us. Not wanting her to see us like this, I sit up and slowly ease Nat off me. I'm trying not to disturb her comfort as much as possible. "Sorry," I whisper, as Nat gives a little whine.
"Hey lovers," says Bree as she approaches. "I wondered when I might see you two making out." Nat sits up and opens one eye.
"Come on Bree," I say.
"We weren't making out!" Nat says, embarrassed at the accusation.
"You wanna mind your own business?" I suggest, getting slightly annoyed.
"Aw, come on Mack, that's no fun," Bree complains. Nat and I both give Bree a withering look. "Ok, ok," Bree puts her hands up in surrender and slowly backs away. "I was just making sure you two weren't dead," she smiles.
"What could possibly kill us?" I ask, "It's not like there is anything dangerous enough in here." Bree has an amused look on her face.
"I don't know. Maybe the weight of your crushing on each other might have crushed you both to death?" Nat lets out a burst of laughter, and it's beautiful. She's beautiful.
"Interesting theory, yet we're both still alive," I chuckle.
"Well, I do hate to break up your bonding sesh, but would it be a crime to ask if I can join you two?"
"I mean, you already killed the mood. No point in trying to dance with a corpse." I motion to the empty spot at the other end of the bench.
"Aw, but I want to sit next to you," Bree says.
"Too bad," I reply. Bree huffs and sits down.