The Silent Storm

"i've missed you."

I've always loved wintertime, especially as a young girl. Building snowmen and snowwomen, snowball fights, all of it. The cold, on the other hand, wasn't my favorite. But you could never have winter without the cold.

Growing up, I've always loved the way ice froze. I loved how no snowflake ever looked the same. I loved how winter was so beautiful in general. But with beauty comes pain. And staring outside the window of the train, watching the snow beginning to thicken, it caused a slither of fear to course through me.

I tore my eyes away from the window and began to focus on my chipped nails. As much as I loved to let my mind wander, it wasn't always the best idea. I glanced over at Zain who was too busy typing away on his laptop. He had moved from his seat next to me to sit across from me. Now that the storm seemed to get worse, not many people were getting on the train.

His eyebrows were furrowed together in deep concentration, his lips pursed ever so slightly. My eyes subconsciously trailed down his face towards his neck where I saw the familiar silver chain he always wore. Although the pendant was underneath his shirt, I didn't need to look at it to know it was a silver phoenix charm. It was a gift his mother had given to him years ago.

I heard the unmistakable rumble of Zain's stomach, making my lips quirk up just a bit. "Hungry?" I asked, feeling my heart race just a bit.

For a moment, I felt like the 14 year old girl back in freshmen year. I was never the popular type but I wasn't necessarily the least popular where no one knew me. I was just somewhere in the middle -- average. Zain, on the other hand, was on top of the popularity ladder with his good looks and ability to play basketball.

He looked up, his eyes searching mine for something. There were so many secrets, so many memories hidden between his caramel irises -- it was unsettling. His lips quirked upwards in a half-smile. "Yeah," he said, running his fingers through his black hair. "Haven't had a chance to eat yet."

I found myself reaching into my purse, taking out the tupperware filled with homemade chocolate chip cookies. "I have more than enough, if you'd like," I offered.

"When have I ever turned down your cookies?"

My smile wavered slightly but I didn't let it show. Instead, I opened the tupperware and handed it to him. Our fingers brushed ever so gently and it took every ounce of self control from pulling away hastily.

"I've forgotten how well you baked," he said after his third cookie. I glanced up at him, smiling softly.

"Learned from the best," I replied.

Zain returned the smile. "That you did. How is she, by the way? Your aunt?"

"She's doing good," I replied, fiddling with my bracelet. "She took up painting. I don't know if you remember but she had a secret passion to paint."

"I remember," Zain said, "I remember everything, Aisha." His eyes bore into mine with an unreadable expression and it took every ounce in me to look away. There were too many memories, too much pain. It took years for me to patch up those wounds. I wasn't about to reopen them now.

"How's Shania?" I asked, referring to his younger sister. I made sure not to look him in the eyes.

"She's doing good," he said, replying with the same words I used. "She's a junior now, in high school."

"Really? Seems like just yesterday she was in middle school complaining about how unfair school is."

Zain chuckled, taking another chocolate chip cookie from the tupperware. He took a bite before replying. "Time flies too fast."

And for a while, the two of us pretended like nothing ever happened. We exchanged a few small words here and there. But it wasn't the same. We weren't the same. I asked about his family. He asked me about mine. He talked about his life, his job, his summer adventures. And that was the thing about Zain -- he loved to talk. He could talk about anything -- sports, world affairs, why yellow skittles are the absolute worst.

But as much as we talked about everything and anything, we never once talked about what went wrong between us.