since the new year is fast approaching (in the eastern u.s time zone at least) i thought i'd begin with a story that's been in works for months on end and revised so many times that i'm actually proud of it. i hope you all enjoy, both the beginning of this story and the new year -emma
. . .
gen·e·sis (noun) -
the origin or mode of formation of something.
. . .
She had a vivid recollection of the first time she ever felt truly connected with him.
It had just been the three of them: Riley, Farkle, Maya, the fourth, fifth and sixth members of their group absent for reasons unknown (or excuses she had just missed hearing). School the previous hour had been a literal definition of hell, exams being taken left and right, final paper due dates being thrown at them at rapid fire speeds. She herself had been ready to scream from the pure excessive stress of it all, prepared to bang her head repeatedly on the table enough times just so that she could think about the pain instead.
But she couldn't, she was eighteen years old, after all. Her mother was always telling her that she needed to be setting an example, not that Katy Hart was someone she listened to often nowadays. All the same, she opted for a latte with as much caffeine as possible instead of the former idea; she'll be it reluctantly.
When she took her hot drink gratefully from a new employee at Topanga's, a girl younger than herself with a short, brunette, boy cut, she physically sagged, letting a sigh escape her lips. She'd promised Riley that she'd not study at all this evening, having done it the entirety of the last five meetings they'd had together, but just the thought of all the unfinished essays laying loosely in her overloaded back pack was causing her to sweat. Any reprieve from such anxiety was a relief, even if it came in a flimsy disposable cup.
Back in middle school, back when the world was so much simpler, she had despised any form of studying, refusing to do it whatsoever, thinking it was the biggest waste of her ever-counting down time until death. She still felt the same way really, only she knew that the days of ignoring her studies were over; she had larger responsibilities now. The time for child's play had ended many years ago.
She wandered back towards the small grouping of couches with a wooden coffee table in the middle, the place where their little group always met. She sat on the couch pushed against the wall closes to the door, with Farkle across the table holding his own steaming drink and Riley to her left, whipped cream still lingering on her upper lip, an empty cup in her hand.
As she sunk into the worn fabric, dumping her back pack on the floor, both physically and metaphorically the weight of school leaving her shoulders, she suddenly felt a pang in her chest, an odd sense of displacement surging through her veins. It wasn't even really that she was surprised by it, this feeling had been overtaking her more often than not lately, but merely the fact that it was occurring here. Here, at Topanga's, where she had always felt at home, surrounded by people she loved. It set her senses on alert, shoving herself in an upright position and peering around the coffee shop.
On her left Riley's face was lit by her phone, thumbs moving quickly across the screen, clicking noises occurring in rapid succession. From the toothy, lopsided grin set upon her face, she had no doubt the brunette was texting her boyfriend and the specific fourth member of their seclusive group, Lucas Friar. They'd gotten back together four months ago after a fairly nasty breakup two years before, one which she had had to clean Riley (deflated, hopeless, depressed and broken) up from. It had been a dark time for all of them, with Farkle and Smackle going separate ways as well, saying that two north magnets will always repel each other, that they couldn't force something that had died long ago.
