Mirror

Moving On

We had a lot of packing to do. Since the decision to move was on such short notice we spent a majority of our weekend clearing out the house. We also used the cleaning time to get rid of all the junk that had accumulated over the many years we'd spent there and I had collected a lot. It took me an hour just to decide what to throw away from the stuff on my bedside table.

I ran across a box of old letters. Most of them were birthday cards and holiday greetings. A few of them were from grandparents and other relatives I only saw once a year, but there were also a few that caught my attention. Some were from Camy. We used to write letters to each other in class when we got bored. I opened one and laughed reading it. We had given up the practice when we both got cellphones so none for the letters were from less than two years ago, but they were nice and I suddenly missed it. Middle school seemed like a whole lifetime ago.

Kya walked into our room, her arms filled with junk from the bathroom: hair products, facial wash, soap, and scrubbing brushes. I had left it up to her to decide what to do with it all since she practically owned the bathroom.

"What's up?" She asked, nodding her head like she was trying to show me that even with four tons of hair product piled in her arms she was perfectly chill. She managed to complete the full nodding motion before everything came toppling down.

"Smooth," I muttered.

"I heard that," Kya giggled. She knelt down to help me clean up her mess. "This is a hassle," she sighed. "Who knew a girl needed so much hair product?"

I looked at her with exaggerated disbelief. "It's all yours," I said.

Kya put her finger to her lips. "Shh, no one asked you." She flashed a huge grin at me. I pinched her nose and she flailed around for a moment before we both burst out laughing. Then we started rearranging the junk on the floor to more manageable piles.

"Hey," I said after we finished sorting the bottles and brushes. "Danny?" I made the inquiry as ambiguous as possible.

Her questioning expression was accompanied by a warm smile, so I knew I had been right not to ask who he was. She would have known immediately something was wrong. "Did something happen between you two?"

"No," I said quickly, shaking my head. "I was just thinking. Do you remember when I first met him?"

"Yeah, I guess it would be the first day of high school for you. We met him because mommy and Mrs. Gilbs started talking at the bus stop. It was Danny's first day of fifth grade or something. He was like eight then, right?"

"Really?" I tried to make it sound I like I was reminiscing rather than hearing this for the first time.

Kya laughed. "Yeah, I would say it's hard to believe, but I don't think he's changed at all since then. Why?"

"Just feels like I've known him forever." I said it with a shrug, but silently thanked Mom when she called from downstairs for help with moving furniture. Had the conversation gone much longer, Kya would have seen the uncertainty written on my face.

Kya jumped up. "I'll be right back," she said.

I got up to follow her, then stopped to brace myself for the pain. Fortunately, Kya was all the way downstairs and before I had need of the bathroom. Strangely enough, it was then that the thought occurred to me: maybe there was a letter from Danny in that box. It contained letters from more than six years ago and according to Kya, my relationship with Danny fell well within that time frame.