cherry lanes.

PROLOGUE.

College students surrounded the nearby airport, giving Valerie slight anxiety. She planned this all out in her head. However, she knew her thoughts were incomplete and exaggerated. Michigan was cold, icy. Washington was not. She admired this difference, she missed the colder weather. It put a smile on her weary face. Butterflies flew around freely in her stomach, making her nauseous. She hopped on the bus, awaiting Cherry Lanes. She thought to herself quietly. She wondered if her old neighborhood had changed at all. She remembered the brick, the trees, the park. She remembered her friends, her little family. She wondered how they were, how college had gone for them. She had just started her sophomore year at Whitman College. She, however, decided to major in psychology, not photography. As much as she missed her camera lens, she needed a new perspective. Psychology was exciting to her, she loved studying it. She felt at peace since moving.

As the bus turned around, she remembered the box she gave to Charlie. The box of letters, polaroids, keychains. She could recite each letter, each word she wrote for him, for the girls. She missed Annika and her soft, dainty smile. She envied Veronica's passion. Most of all, she longed for Charlie Kingston. She laughed to herself, a pit lodged in her throat. Part of her felt like going back to Washington, like this was an awful idea. However, there was no turning back. She was on the bus now, minutes away from her old hometown. The sky felt brighter than it ever did. The clouds were less heavy, less daunting. She took this as a sign, playing with the scarf around her neck. It was soft, light, and warm. Her roommate back in Washington knitted it for her. Her name was Anya, a sociology major. She felt Annika would like her, they were similar human beings. She couldn't wait to tell them all about Washington, about Whitman.

As the bus slowed, she pulled out her journal. Valerie never kept journals, not until after moving. On her dorm desk, three journals sat in the corner. They were both filled to the brim, holding memories and polaroid pictures. She still had her camera, the same one from high school. It was old, barely functioning. However, she cherished it still, refusing to get rid of it.

Today is Monday, November 17th.
Currently, I am on the city bus. I'm nervous, shaky. Michigan seems to be the same. I haven't missed much, I hope. My hotel feels less homey than my dorm room back in Washington. But, I'm grateful to be here. Anya has heard all about my friends, my mother, my old childhood bedroom. Anya smiles like Annika, but no one could ever replace my family. I wonder how college is going for them. Most of all, I wonder how Charlie's book is coming along. He seemed so excited the last time we spoke. The last conversation we had. I miss him. I love him. I never told him that I did, but I wonder if he knew anyway.

With kindness, Val.

She closed the journal, placing it in her bag. As she did so, the bus came to a complete stop. The driver hollered toward her, and she rose to her feet. They were sore, she did lots of walking this morning. Now, she had to do more. She grinned at the driver, thanked him, and stepped off. She faced Cherry Lanes. She gulped hard. Biting at the inside of her cheek, she stood still. Valerie was twenty, she had changed a lot since seventeen, since senior year of high school. But, despite her aging, Cherry Lanes had remained the same. It was eerie, sick.

Most of all, it was saddening.