Written in the (Evening) Stars

Home Sweet Home

I don't think I can recall a time where I was more excited to finally have made it home, or as much of a home as I could make in the city. I let out a long sigh of relief when the front door of my apartment finally came into view.

It seemed like the city had figuratively exploded overnight with how many people were around and using every avenue of transportation. Even though Sterling Enterprises was on the edge of the city, the usual 10-minute trip on the Metro took over an hour between delays and people jamming themselves into the cars. The bus wasn't any better. Usually, the bus would only take four stops to get to where I needed to be, but due to a massive car pile-up, we had to take a detour. That particular trip that would only take maybe 8 minutes turned into 40.

Even though I was lucky enough to be sitting the entire time, I was jostled around far more than I expected as people bumped into me without care. It's not like I really expected anyone to care, but when you see someone with crutches with them, it would be appreciated. All the same, with each bump and hit, the braces I wore seemed to dig into my legs and my ankle more and more. I could feel a sharp pain in my left ankle that wasn't boding well for me, so finally standing in front of the apartment was a miracle.

My relief was shortlived, however, as my key didn't seem to want to actually unlock the door. It wasn't the first time it had happened, but it was frustrating that of all days, today was the day that the door decided to stop working the right way. I had been trying to get ahold of maintenance for months but no one seemed to want to come out. "It's not an emergency," they said. Well, it certainly felt like one right now.

"Hey!" I yelled, banging hard on the door, no longer wanting to deal with the key situation. "It's me! Open the door, Sav!" I continued banging until I heard the clatter of something falling over on the side of the door and grimaced. Savannah had to have fallen over something, and I was worried to know if whatever fell was something expensive. If Savannah was in a rush, she didn't have the best balance. I stepped back just in time as Savannah yanked the door open, looking slightly frazzled.

"Well, hello to you, too," Savannah says with a frown. "Where have you been? I've been waiting for hours."

"Traffic, stupid tourists, you know – normal city things," I say as I push past Savannah to plunk myself down on the couch. "I mean, you know how it is, right? Thought you always said you were a city girl." When I look back at Savannah from the couch, the smallest gleam of amusement was in her eyes because she knew I had her pegged.

Savannah has been my best friend for nearly as long as I've lived. We grew up only a few houses apart from each other, and we're so close that people have always assumed we were sisters. There were certainly similarities growing up, both skinny and short stringbeans, but by the time we reached high school, Savannah seemed to blossom while I remained nearly the same. Well, until somewhat recently, that is.

Our entire lives, Savannah insisted that she was a "city girl" despite us not visiting the city often and us living in quite possibly one of the most rural areas ever. Trees and farmlands surrounded us, but Savannah was determined to decry the image of "country girl" not matter what. She was chic and sophisticated, researching designer brands and consuming all bits of media on celebrities and models. I was more focused on just getting through school and focusing on whatever sport that I could get into. It was both fortunate and unfortunate that our small town meant that I could participate in a lot with the boys, but I mostly had to pave my own way. In my time not playing sports, I found myself creating secret stories. I will admit that when Savannah would drag me into her TV show binges, I couldn't help but join just for the dramatic events unfolding that would inspire my next idea.

It was during one of those fateful TV show binges that Savannah had come across my secret stash of stories I had written. Savannah had said she was going to the bathroom but for some reason decided to snoop in my room, something we did whenever we were at eachother's houses because we didn't mind. I wanted to shriek when I saw that she had finally found my loose floorboard and had pulled out my shoeboxes full of random stories I had written. It was somehow way more embarrassing than her coming across my diary and confessing my love for our other friend, my now ex, Mike. I thought Savannah was going to make fun of me, but instead she looked at me in awe, her eyes big and round.