No really, I'm okay. I'm also a great liar.

nostalgia strikes at the cd shop on the old cobblestone street

Rose and I slide into an empty compartment. We're taking the train to go into the city, to visit the CD shop that was our hangout in high school.

I love riding around on trains.

It takes my mind off things. Watching the scenery and hearing the rhythmic click-clack of the rails and the relaxing swaying. Rose and I would always take the train if we could, no matter where we were going. She knows how much I love it.

It's a bright day outside, the sun's beams causing to have the gray clouds covering the sky to have a backlit effect.

I reach into my backpack and bring out a Ziploc bag of Oreos.

I hand Rose a couple, then curl up in my seat, facing the window. We both get out our phones. She starts playing music, and I just scroll through Annabelle's blog. There's nothing new since I last checked, but looking through the posts makes me happy.

She posted a couple more photos last week: one of me, her, Jacob, and Jenna, one of her wearing another daisy crown I made her, and one of us eating the waffle brownies Jenna made.

(Jenna likes to put brownie batter in the waffle maker. They taste really good, but Jacob always gets annoyed because she never cleans out his waffle iron.)

I look over at Rose. She really hasn't changed one bit since high school. Her eyes still shine that same golden color they did when we rode the train four years ago. Her dark hair's still clipped back and just curling at the base of her neck.

She's even got the same style. She always loved crop tops and shorts, and still does. And light-up sneakers.

It's nice, having this again.

I look back to my phone and open my photo collection. I open the folder of ones of Annabelle. The first photo I come across is this one I took of her when she was standing in front of the light-filled window in our room.

There's a glowing outline to her frame, and she's got an unreal look to her that I think represents how she makes me feel.

I keep scrolling through the pictures. All of them with my beautiful datemate. Her smile makes me smile. Her dark skin and darker eyes make me melt a little bit inside. I don't think I'll ever get tired of the feeling.

I absentmindedly rub the skin behind my ear, where my tattoo is.

Our hometown's in the dark

I miss her, but I have her overalls on so it's like she's hugging me.

I fish around in my backpack and bring out Fangirl. We still have an hour or so left of the train ride.

We do our own thing, just like we used to. It's nice, not having an awkward silence that people feel the need to fill.

My phone buzzes on my stomach, jerking me out of a light doze. I'm lying horizontally across two of the pillowy train seats.

I rub the sleep out of my eyes and glance over at Rose, who has fallen asleep too. I look out the window. We're nearly there. About five minutes, if I had to guess. It's a much longer ride than from that of our high school.

I throw my last Oreo at Rose's head to wake her up, then open my phone and check the notification.

Annabelle posted on her blog again. It's a picture of a long, handwritten note in Annabelle's writing and maroon pen. I don't have time to read it, though, so I screenshot it for later.

Rose groans, then eats the Oreo and stretches up from her curled position.

"Are we already here?"

"Yeah, almost."

"Can we get food before going shopping? I'm starving."

"Yeah, sure. Anywhere in particular, or just see what's around? Neither of us have any classes today, so we have until we get tired."

When we get off the train, we wander around the cobblestone streets, admiring the familiar, old-fashioned houses and the colorful shop displays.

We end up stopping in a little cafe, where I get a sandwich and Rose gets some soup.

It was one of the places we used to go frequently.

This town is so full of memories. Little things I remember come about as we walk.

We walk into the little CD shop on the corner and my senses are overwhelmed with nostalgia. Same scent, of new books and old records. Same layout, with racks upon racks of CDs, records, DVDs, and books.

I breathe in the air, then race around. Rose does the same. It's been too long.

I page through the CDs, while Rose goes through the records. I've been needing some new music, so I head up to the cashier desk.

The boy there looks up at me from under a flower crown and happily shows me to a section of music he recommends. It's Black Veil Brides, whom I've been told to listen to. I've been meaning to, it's just always escaped me.

"We Stitch These Wounds is my personal favorite," he says enthusiastically. "But really, they're all good."

"Thank you so much!" I reply, just as enthusiastically. "I've been meaning to listen to them for a while now."

He smiles, and tells me it's his pleasure.

I make my way over to Rose with three Black Veil Brides CDs. She looks up from the books she's reading, and gestures for me to sit down.

We stay at the CD shop until eleven, its closing time, and then take the train back to campus.

We're both sleepy on the way home, but as soon as I get back to my dorm room, which is empty, I insert the first CD and start playing it.

I play all three of them that night. It's so refreshing to have a different voice reverberating around the room.

When I finally get time to read Annabelle's post, I feel warm and fuzzy inside. It's a little message about this year and how much her readers have helped her through the tough times in her life.

I fall asleep to that feeling and the sound.

a/n: did anyone catch the reference