Together

Chapter 2

I've never hosted a party before.

I mean, this isn't a party, it's more like a dinner... party... I've just never had people over before, I've always just lived here alone with no one visiting.

I grab two extra plates and set them on the table; both next to each other. My plate is already one the small, round table. I open the garage door; the ground is cold with no socks on. Dragging the two chairs I got from the garage, I come back inside, shutting the door behind me. I prop up both chairs where their plates are.

I take one look at the table and one glance at the clock. 4:57. I called Dinah an hour or so ago, she told me that Normani and her would be over at 6 o'clock. I reluctantly gaze over at the counter near the stove; strands of spaghetti scatter the surface, the oven is on and the sauce has been opened and is dripping out of the side.

"Okay," I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. "Let's try this again."

I walk over to the stove, grabbing the spaghetti sticks and tossing them in the trash. I grab the sauce container and wipe off the leaking sauce with a nearby napkin. I place it neatly in the cabinet and stare at the stove. What can I make that uses a stove?

Macaroni and cheese!

It's the only other thing I know how to make beside pancakes and waffles and sometimes chicken. I grab the dark blue box from the cabinet, opening the top as I walk. I bend onto my knees, grabbing a pot from the lower cupboards. I fill up the pot with hot water, shifting my arm and placing it on the stovetop. I dump all of the stiff noodles into the water and it starts to boil.

I take this time to run down the short hallway and change my clothes. I open the door to my room, the scent of oranges wafts through the air as I walk in.

She used to smell like oranges.

I close the door and pad over to my mirror. My mirror doesn't hang on anything, it just sits unevenly on my dresser. I have to move it everyday to grab clothes. I gaze into the mirror, sighing at my reflection. I look really tired, which I am, and my hair tumbles down my shoulders, wavy and raven-colored. I unbutton my black and gray plaid flannel, tossing it on my bed. I grab a light gray t-shirt and pulling it on, sliding my plaid shirt over it. I look down at my black jeggings and decide they are fine.

I quickly rush back to the kitchen, stirring the noodles then bolting into the garage and jumping from the freezing cold floor.

"Damn!" I complain, holding my foot while jumping on my other foot all the way to my room. "So, so cold!"

I spring onto my bed, fishing some socks out of my drawer. My mirror slides to the side, banging into the wall. I grimace at the noise, checking to make sure the glass didn't break. My mirror is intact, thank God. I pull apart the pair of socks, slipping one on each of my feet. I wiggle my toes in the cotton, smiling as I do so.

As I'm leaving my room, I notice a shimmery object shining under my mirror. I hesitantly meander over to it, pushing my mirror back onto my dresser. I recognize the object immediately— it's Camila's radio.

Tears well up in my eyes, stinging them as I pull out the radio. It's an old, black radio, and in gold letters Camila wrote 'L + C' on the side. I trace over the letters with my thumb, tears sliding down my cheeks. The letters shine like she wrote them yesterday, but I know she wrote them seven years ago. The year we first started dating.

"I miss her so much.." I whisper to myself, hugging the radio close to my chest.

Something clicks on the radio and music starts to play.

"I don't want the whole world; the sun, the moon and all their light." The radio plays, I close my eyes, trying to block out the tears, as the song continues. "I just wanna be the only girl you love all your life."