Wilted Petals

Chapter 6: A Jog Down the Lane

"Sorry, work has been a pain. Too much code to get through," Manish texts me.

I cuddle up even tighter onto my couch, as I gently tug the sleeves of my sweatshirt to blanket my arms properly. "It's all good. Remember how you almost failed your computer science lab because of an extra comma in your code?"

I can almost feel Manish wince with a slight sense of negative nostalgia over the phone. That sentence alone definitely sparked some unfortunate memories from his college life. "Man, I remember. I hated that class. Remember how I told you the average for the class' final was 58%?"

A slight feeling of cringe twists at my face, as I remember the final blow to the injury of that average. "And the professor refused to curve it."

Some college classes are bad, but this professor really made that class feel like trying to swim across the Arctic Ocean naked and coming out alive. "Yep, and that's the class that scared me out of coding any more in C#."

I snicker a little bit, as I feel him. Not because I can code, but the unfortunate memories of my dad trying to etch Python into my memory start to come back. By the end of our first session together, I wished that I had been eaten by a python instead of having tried to learn the language.

"Anyways, I have to run, Jaya. Got some errands to run."

I nod, and finish off the conversation with, "Sure. Later." I throw my phone back onto the couch as I flop back like a dead fish. Millions of thoughts buzz through my mind as to what I could do on my day off. Should I dust? Do my laundry? Binge watch The Sopranos?

I nod at the last option, as I pull myself back up to go get myself a hoodie from my closet so that I can watch it comfortably and not feel like my toes are going to break off. As I walk over to the closet, I can't help but notice the warm feeling that is fuzzing down my spine and all the way to my fingertips. It's been increasingly more common and I'm welcoming it with open arms since Hell's winter has frozen over in the Bay Area.

But right now, the one thing that I need to keep this warm feeling blanketed over me is one of my old hoodies and a few episodes of one of my favorite TV shows. I yank open my closet doors and dive right into the hanging display of clothes. As I'm digging through my closet to find an adequate hoodie, something up top catches my eye. My arm lifts itself and my fingers grab hold of it, and just by the leathery material brushing against my fingertips, I know exactly what it is.

I pull it off of the shelf, and stare down at what is basically my late teenage and early 20s documented in a shit ton of pictures. All the memories of Manish, Jen, and I are all embedded in this parting gift given to me on the day Manish left for Seattle.

I go back towards my bed and gently sit down on it so that I can go swimming in this sea of nostalgia. I brush off some of the dust resting on the book and flip open the top cover.

When I bask in the first few pictures, a smile breaks out on my face like pimples on my cheeks. The very first picture on there is of my 16th birthday. Manish was one of the first people who got to feed my cake, and he managed to take some of the icing and dot it right on my nose. The picture is of me staring at the camera with a look that's a mixture of offense, humor, and "I want to kind of rip your face off right now."

Little chuckles bounce inside of my chest, as the next picture is of Manish and I, arm in arm, smiling, with his signature luminous smile lighting up the picture. I shake my head, as memories of how stupid we were as teenagers keep on flooding my mind. I flip through the next few pages, as another set of pictures capture my attention. This time, the smile continues to grow bigger on my face.

It was at Manish's high school graduation. I had thrown on my favorite black dress, even though I usually hated wearing dresses, and Manish was wearing his blue graduation gown and cap with the gold tassel. I tried my best to apply some kajal before giving up and asking my mom to do it so I wouldn't look like a melting panda.