The door opened slowly and a look of shock came over her face.
"Oh, hi!"
I laughed. "Oh, hi? That's all you can say to me? Your best friend you haven't seen in three years?" She nodded wordlessly and opened the door wider. I brushed past her, my body catching her shoulder a bit – so what if it wasn't a total accident?
Aly smiled at me and asked "When did you get back in town?"
"A couple days ago. I didn't know if you'd want to see me..." I trailed off at this, not sure if I should bring up the subject, but realizing too late I already had.
Aly turned away and looked into the kitchen, where I could see her mom slumped over a cup of coffee. I strode over to greet the woman who used to be my second mother. "Hey, Rose Ann!" I exclaim excitedly.
The blonde woman looks up with a shocked. I grin. Ever the morning person, Rose Ann was. I watch as her face breaks into an ecstatic grin. "Den!" she squeals and flings her arms around me. "Oh my God you've grown up! And you look so mature! What did you do to your hair?" She babbles happily away as Aly stands in the background, rolling her eyes. I smile at my friend as I talk with her mom.
"Do you want to know the chronology of what I did to my hair, or just what it is currently? Because I don't even remember myself." We laugh.
For your information, my hair is currently bright red (really bright) with my natural curls showing through. Sometimes I straighten it, but this morning I remembered how much Aly had adored my curls so I left them.
Rose Ann and I chatted animatedly for a few minutes – "catching up" as she called it – but then she looked over at Aly still standing in the doorway and stopped. "Well, I'm sure you and Aly have a lot to talk about, so I'll let you go. But how long are you back for?"
"I transferred to the University here, so I'm looking around for an apartment, actually."
Rose Ann squealed.
"Oh, well, make sure it's not too far away from us!" She sighed. "I missed you so much, and your mother..." She sniffled. "Bless her soul; she was the best woman I've ever met."
I nodded and smiled, then turned away and grimaced to Aly, who smiled weakly back. Let's just say my mother and I didn't always agree about – certain things. Aly led me through the living room again, towards her room, but I stopped when I saw the wall. "Aly..." I breathed. "Did you draw those?" There were three art pieces on the wall: an oil pastel garden landscape, a pencil sketch of the city streets, and another oil pastel of two little girls chattering animatedly over a tea party.
Aly came to stand beside me. "Yes, I drew them. I'm doing a double major of Art and English literature." This surprised me. Aly was never overly ambitious – though she did love both art and English, so I guess it shouldn't have.
"You're going to have your hands full of that," I commented, still mesmerized by the tea party. The two little girls looked eerily familiar – that's when it hit me. It was one of Aly's memories. A memory of me.
I tore my eyes away and smiled sadly at my high school best friend.
What had happened...?
No, I knew very well what had happened. And from the looks of things, Aly was remembering what had happened, as well. Her forehead was drawn, her pretty brown eyes looked far away, and she looked incredibly small and lost. That scared me. Aly was never lost. Before I knew what I was doing, I was hugging her. At first, she went stiff, but then relaxed against me until we were both clinging to each other. No words needed to be spoken. It was okay. We had forgiven each other, finally.
