Until We Meet Again

6. new friends

The next day, I'm feeling much better about everything. Unlike Madison, I wasn't plagued with a terrible hangover, and I'm thankful for it.

She had arrived back at our room a few hours after me, and I was still wide awake. She took advantage of that lingering presence, and went on random rants about the shitty beer she drank and shitty guys she had met. I had helped her get into bed, and she thanked me for being a good friend.

I wasn't even aware that we were in that area of our relationship yet, and I had simply told her that she can always rely on me.

Today, she's complaining about her pounding headache and how life is unfair. I do agree with her on that last statement, but I stay silent because of her request to keep the noise down.

She starts to tell me about the numerous events that took place at the party, but I recognize that the start of this conversation includes the same exact things that she had told me about last night. So, I break my vow of silence and inform her of that.

She shrugs, and says, "I don't think I remember that."

"Are you sure?"

She takes another moment to think about it, and then smiles when she seems to realize something, saying, "oh yeah! Thanks for everything you did! One of my friends just dropped me off here without any help."

I want to tell her that probably isn't a real friend, but instead I tell her, "no problem!"

She might not be interested in my philosophy regarding superficial friends, and, it's not even any of my business. I decide to leave her behind as she adjusts to the bright daylight from the glass windows, and starts complaining about life once again.

I start my morning routine, and in the process, I change into my familiar set of clothes: a purple flannel over a plain white shirt with light blue denim jeans and black sneakers. I notice that I can't find a special locket in my jewelry box, but I decide that I don't have time to worry about it right now. It might be stuck under my bed or in my closet.

I can't lose it.

One thing those clothes did do was make me feel like I could fit in, and I'll never forget that. Isn't it crazy how a few articles of clothing can completely change how people perceive you?

I don't bother with applying makeup today, and I simply add on my favorite shade of red lipgloss. I gather all of my materials for the day, and I make my way out of my dorm.

As I walk across the green grass and grey sidewalks, I'm able to pin down the fact that many of the people around me were at the raging party last night. I can tell that based off of two things: they seem familiar, and, they all look like zombies.

Once again, I personally thank myself for choosing not to drink. I also send my joy toward Nina, who had taken me away from that outrageously busy scenery.

We had spent plenty of hours at a quaint coffee shop, and we actually got to know each other. I found out she's a prospective theater major with a dream of being on broadway, and she's obsessed with tacos and cheesecake.

That was how our night was.

One second we were engaging in a deep conversation about life, and another second we were cracking jokes about our past experiences.

And, at one strange moment, I even thought I saw Delilah. I brushed it off as it being the effects of cheap alcohol, but it still feels like a faint sight that's become too important. It might have just been a walking shadow, and all I did was paint a beautiful face on it.

Or, it could have been her.

I'm reminded that I don't live in some messed up fantasy where Delilah comes back when some asshole roughly steps on my foot. I jump as a reaction to the sharp pain, and the person who hurt me out of nowhere tells me to "fuck off."

I look up, and I realize that it's the arrogant guy from the party. The one who had yelled at me for not wanting to have sex with him is here, but at least he doesn't remember me.

I prevent myself from muttering a quiet "sorry" as I usually do since I know he's not worth it. He brushes his short hair aside, and he stomps away as if he owns the pathway. He's an asshole when he's drunk and sober. That's not surprising at all.

At that moment, soft hands touch my shoulder and I turn around, finding that it's Nina again. She clearly has great timing. It's like she knows everything and anything.

She asks, "how are you today?"

I answer, "I'm fine."

She hums in response, and hands me a small object. I take a second to look at it before I tell her, "how did you find this?"

She shrugs, and I inspect it again as if it's some kind of an incredible replica of my silver locket. It must have fallen off at the diner, and I simply repeat thank you to her multiple times before she tells me that it was no issue at all.

"It was outside the diner, you must have dropped it."

"What?"

I don't remember anything of that sort happening, and she shrugs again and says goodbye before heading away to the rest of her day.

I stare at the item in my hands in confusion as I turn it around and open it up. I attempt to run my finger over the small picture before quickly realizing that there isn't one.

The familiar setting of Delilah and I in front of the blue skies is gone. I start questioning what the hell must have happened, but my alarm goes off and I realize that I have to be in class.

I shove it into my pocket, and I realize that I'm much worse for forgetting all about it. Sacred memories and stories are already being left behind in such a short period of time.