Another City Of Lights.

Chapter 31.

March, New York.

Samantha's POV:-

It's one of those extremely rare days when I'm actually found in my own room, and not at Remy's. One of those rather weird days when he and I aren't together. When I'm not spending the night with him, and he isn't picking me up on his way back fromy class.

One of those lonely days when I actually can sit in my own bed, in my own room, and make awkward small talk with my roommate. But it's not even like that, because right now even small talk sounds nice. At least it would be something to do. But my roommate-Stacey-isn't here either. It makes me wonder if she even stays here, because the room looks spotless. And God knows I hardly ever show up.

It doesn't feel right to sit here, or to sleep. It feels like I'm invading someone else's space. It feels like someone else's room. But I guess I need to get used to it, with Remy being away for a month and all.

Remy had spent an entire week trying to convince me to go with him. He had started with simple conversation, then proceeded to emotional blackmail. It had started to work for a while, I admit. But there was no way in actual hell that I was going to travel with him all the way to England to visit his family. No freaking way.

It was obviously a big deal, the whole family issue. And how could I, a complete stranger who had been rooming with their son for a year now, suddenly show up at their doorstep randomly and blurb out all this information? It was absolutely absurd. And that's exactly what I told him when he tried all that emotional bull crap on me.

Of course I knew that I was going to miss him like crazy, and a month was surely too much, but I couldn't go. And I had to start being more independent. I didn't want to keep burdening him with all my burdens and keep relying on him for everything.

And so with that brilliant new determination I had told Remy a firm no, spent the entire weekend with him, helped him pack, and had kissed him hard before saying goodbye.

I moved back into my dorm room after he left, although he suggested I could just stay at his place, but my room was obviously more closer to the campus and my classes. It was just easier this way. Mainly because I feared I would just become a crying mess, and miss him too much with all his stuff there. But so far, I still missed him the same in my own room too.

The room itself wasn't that bad. It was small for two people, but it was cozy. I always liked cozy things. I had draped my worn out pink plaid quilt that I had had on my bed back home in Karachi on this tiny dorm room bed, and kept all my Marvel figurines on the scrappy looking nightstand. I figured it would definitely bother Stacey, but so far she hadn't thrown them away so I was hoping she didn't mind. Or maybe she just hadn't been in here long enough to notice them.

We each also had separate desks, with small, worn out shelves above them.

I loved this best, because I had space to cram all of my books, and enough space for all the other reading material. Remy didn't have any shelves in his apartment, and I wouldn't ask him to get one because there wasn't any space. Although he did need one, with they way he hoarded books.

On my shelf, I kept all of my books, perfectly arranged in order. All of the Harry Potter ones taking up most of the space. I also had pictures, set in different sized frames. One of Remy and I, one with Jade and Max, and one of my friends back home, all of them smiling silly at the camera. It was taken years ago, but it was still my favorite.

I kept waiting almost til 3 after I came back from class, just to see if my roommate suddenly decided to come back, but when she didn't show up, I changed in to my usual sweatpants and a t shirt outfit, switching my t shirt with a hoodie I had snatched from Remy's closet, and decided to get some work done.

I had a couple of assignments due the following week, and doing homework was better than sitting idle anyway.

I set my laptop, notebooks and my phone on my desk, and opened up a jar of peanut butter that I kept here for emergencies like when I was too lazy to go out for some food.

I get done with one of the assignments, and begin to start writing the short story I have to submit for my Fiction-Writing class, and my laptop beeps.

It takes me by surprise, but I recover quickly, hoping it's Remy. But when I check my Skype, there's nothing there. Instead, the beep was the indication for a new email. I sighed, mostly in disappointment. Nobody ever sent me emails, and Remy definitely wasn't going to since he knew I never even check them.

And then I realized I would eventually have to clean out my inbox eventually, it probably has a ton of trash in it. But when I open it, it's more than just nostalgia that hits me. It happens in stages. Stage 1: I see my picture on the top, in the corner; Stage 2: I almost start crying when I remember when that picture was taken, and how Aaron had laughed at me when I had set it as my profile picture; Stage 3: I see his email front and center, above all the rest, demanding to be read. And then I actually do start crying.

It doesn't say much like I thought it would. It just says, "are you there??". Typical Aaron style of writing.

And he sent it now, right now. And I don't know what to do.

Is it possible that he tried to contact me? Why did I never think about this before, maybe he actually had tried. But I never got anything else other than this email right now.

And Oh Lord, that possibly means he must be online right now. Right this second, he must be waiting for me to reply.

I get swallowed up in a state of total confusion. I want to reply, I want to tell him I'm here, I'm right here. But there's a part of me that thinks getting involved with my past life might turn out to be a mistake, because this one email could change everything. And I have spent months, so many months, thinking there was no way I could ever see them again, and just like always, Aaron found me. How could I not reply to him now? 

When I start to type, I don't know what to say. Heck, I don't even know what he looks like now. Has he changed? I want to ask him everything, and I want to tell him everything. I want to forget about my short story for class and write him a story about my life so far, and I want to include every single thing. But I don't, because I remember that I was the one who left them, and knowing Aaron, he might still be holding a grudge.

And so, my reply to him turns out to be a simple one as well. I send him a plain and simple 'yes' and let the consequences unfold as they may.