Leaving Rhode Island: Thayer Street

You know what I miss about Rhode Island?

My sister would take me to Thayer Street with her after school

Especially in the spring

Like, when the weather gets nice

And standing in front of a pizza place for four hours

Talking about absolutely nothing

With boys who are sort of cute

Doesn’t seem like the stupidest thing to do

She’d take me with her and not even complain about it

My sister’s cool that way

I got a coffee from Starbucks

Which I thought was just—

The most adult thing ever, you know?

Actually, it was a frappucino

Which is, like, the least adult drink ever

But I don’t know

I felt pretty grown-up

We’d just stand around

Or we’d walk up and down the street

Running into the same people over and over again

Sometimes it would be so hot

We’d go into one of the stores

Just for the air-conditioning

And try to look like we were buying something

When we never bought anything aside from my frappucino

And my sister’s soy latte

Occasionally my sister would get a guy

To buy us pizza

And then we’d say ‘Thanks’

And take off towards Wayland Square

Where we’d go to another Starbucks

And buy another frappucino and soy latte

Because, my sister would say—

‘The buzz is wearing off’

It’s wild how happy you can be

With so little, you know?

The best memories you end up with

Are the memories of really simple stuff

A street—just one street

Some coffee

A little bit of air-conditioning

And the occasional slice of free pizza

And I was—incredibly happy

When they exiled my sister

All that stopped

The trips to Thayer Street

Trips anywhere, really

Even when I was old enough to drive

I just sort of—went to school and went home

Phoned it in

My parents barely noticed I was there

They were too busy calling Lexi every five minutes

To make sure she was okay

She went to London first

But then she met this guy who had a fellowship in India

So she went to live with him

And now she’s pregnant and—

We don’t talk much anymore

I don’t think she minds not living in Rhode Island

And she’s never said she misses anything about it

She’s never said…

I mean, she’s never said she misses me so…

Maybe all that stuff in my head is, like, glorified

Or something

Maybe it was just nice for me

And for her it was whatever

I don’t know

I left as soon as I could

That’s when my parents finally noticed me

One daughter had to leave

And now the other one was leaving by choice?

‘What did we do to deserve this?’

Truth is—there are things I miss

But I feel sort of—protective of them

Those things, you know?

I don’t want to ruin them

By going back

To see if they’re still

What I remember them being

I guess I’m like that with people now too

I’d rather just leave them in my head

Where they look their best

It seems like that’s the smartest thing

To do