FEEL

31. Falesia

Falesia ~ the disquieting awareness that someone's importance to you and your importance to them may not necessarily match.

~ The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows ~

~°~

After spending the whole day thinking about it, I decided to go and see Breanna after school. As I exitted the gate, I considered going to tell Mr Pierce, but then figured that he would simply drive home if he didn't see me at school.

If she wasn't with Dre, or at a party, Bree was most likely in her dorm room in Cambridge University, only a three hour walk away from my own school. Most people might find it preposterous, to walk that kind of distance just to see somebody.

But she is the only friend I have. I don't have a phone to call her or a means of letting her know where I am. The thought of never seeing her again, or only getting to see her at the end of the month, let alone year, it was dreadful. I couldn't live with it.

A fleeting wonder came to me while I walked down the street. A wonder if she would have done the same for me. If I was of equal value to her as she is to me. It's not like she has it written on her forehead or embroidered in her dark irises. There's a glint, definitely. A way about her smile that lets me know that she enjoys my company just as much as I do hers. But in terms of the lengths she would go for me - I don't know. And maybe I don't need to.

When I arrive at her campus, I have to put on my big girl pants and ask around for anyone who knows Breanna Caylen. To my luck, she's quite irrecondite. The first person I ask, a young woman who looks like she's seen and heard it all, walks me to Breanna's room.

“I don't know if she's in there, though,” she says in a prominent New Yorken accent. “If you're here to murder her, don't tell her I'm the one who told you where she is.”

Without waiting for my response, she leaves. I try not to be concerned over the lack of loyalty among the residents here. Surely, nobody comes here to murder people. With three taps, I knock on the door.

“Try twisting the damn latch, genius,” Breanna calls back. I try not to laugh. It's such typical behavior for her to leave the door unlocked so that she doesn't have to get up and open it when someone knocks. I don't think she should have her own house in this case.

I twist the latch just like she recommended, pushing the door open and coming in.

The place is scattered with books and clothes. Breanna is on her bed against the wall, an open window a few centimeters to the right behind her. The place smells sweet, in a woody kind of sense. I get a clue as to where the smell is coming from when I catch a glance at the electronic looking stick in Breanna's mouth. She sucks on it and then blows smoke out of her mouth from it.

The moment we lock eyes, she springs off the bed. “Oh, my god, Aquila!” Then, she jumps into my arms and I have to catch both of us from falling to the ground. I'm squeezed more tighter than I ever had in my entire life. She pulls away, holding me out at arm's reach. “You came all the way here for me?”

“Don't think too much of it.”

She juts out her bottom lip. “Awwww! You loves me, don't you?”

“Loves,” I laugh.

Without a response, she pulls me in and closes the door. “I have so much to tell you. But first, how was your week?”

I eye Breanna out first. Decipher her mood. She seems jubilant, exhilarated, in fact. When she smiles, it's contagious, and I really need that smile to stay there for a while. So I won't tell her anything that will destroy it.