Me, Myself, and I

banished

My daily routine had become stapled into the essence of my being. Each trigger and moment easily identifiable, all mixed like a perfect recipe. I'd grown too comfortable, wrapped myself in that recipe like a warm blanket. I'd forgotten that I was incapable of following a recipe. Whenever I tried, it ended in disaster.

The Recipe for Disaster

1. Wake up and ignore Brooke

2. Meet Alex for coffee

3. Alex makes me go to class(es)

4. Drive over to Ben's (1-2 hours max)

5. Study date with Alex

6. Sleep it off and do it over again

Sounds simple enough. That's what I thought. I followed through to every minute detail. No burnout. No regret. Nothing came out of my visits with Ben. Nothing came out of my dates with Alex. I was a wheel turning to keep the machine going. I was the cook, and I would follow the recipe. What I didn't know was that one or two of my ingredients was spoiled.

Ben didn't have another episode of remembrance quite like the first time. Most of my visits consisted of field trips to Stacks and watching him read and take notes while I sorted through his books and items.

The day of spoiled ingredients started off the same. I woke up on my dorm, Brooke was out cold still in last night's makeup. I met up with Alex at the campus cafe for black coffee. I joked about skipping my math class and he took it all too seriously, walking me over there like a yellow school bus. I watched the professor's mouth move and tackled the problems in front of me. I ignored the red pen marks of the previous assignment. My car started with no resistance, and as the sun dipped behind the trees I drove the familiar route. No GPS required. I'd memorized the trees and divots in the roads, the crooked stop sign that appeared three blocks before his home, straight shot ahead.

I was on autopilot. That's when I tend to miss the big picture.

For instance, I didn't see the red Ferrari in the driveway.

The habit of knocking had been rid of my system. My heart stopped when the knob refused to turn, door budged shut.

"Ben! Why's your door locked?" He never locked it. Were his parents home? I laughed. "Is this because I stopped making you waffles?"

I heard a clinking against the handle. Then...nothing. I rolled my eyes and shoved the thing open myself, escaping the cold. I went to close it behind me, but an arm stuck itself between the door and the frame.

"He's not here," Kyle said.

That's when I finally saw the red Ferrari. Oh joy.

"He's always here." I walked around him, stopping in the midst of the living room. "Where have you been? Ben's been worried."

He sighed and shut the door in defeat. "Unlike some people, I actually show up to my classes."

"Classes? Where?"

"Out of state."

"Then how did you get here so fast? What are you doing here?"

He disappeared into the kitchen. I heard a can opening, the pouring of liquid. A swallow. "So, which is it? Where was I or why am I back?"

"Where's Ben?"

He reappeared, facing the window. "I told you. He's not home. He and the unmentionables are at another meeting." He hesitated. "So, you can leave. I'd prefer it if you never came back."

"Does Ben know you're here?" He laughed, but I spun him around. For once the sight of him didn't send me spiraling, instead made me stand taller. I didn't see Ben's intimidating brother. I saw a broken plank of wood flowing in the ocean. In a way, I saw pieces of myself. "What is your problem? You've hated me since the day you met me."