When I See You Again

Chapter 5: Seeing You Again

-Wesley-

The entire drive after leaving the airport was utterly nerve wracking.

When we turned the corner down my old street my heart wouldn't stop pounding.

What if we saw her on the way there?

My brain had been repeatedly asking me this question the entire drive.

I looked out the window at the vaguely familiar houses passing by. One of which had a front garden filled with rose bushes.

Roses were her favorite, I recalled. I remember she had said that they were simple and commonly looked over because they were so cliche. But she liked the simple things. The things that people see all the time, yet forget to see the beauty. Things such as dew drops, apple trees, and the clouds in the sky made her so happy. Well, at least they used to. I wonder if she still cares about that stuff...

I chuckled to myself. How could I remember what her favorite flower was, but not remember her name? I knew it started with an A... or maybe an E- or an O? It was one of those things where it's on the tip of your tongue, yet you just can't quite grasp it. It was annoyingly aggravating.

My thoughts came screeching to a halt as we pulled into my old driveway. I glanced up at the two-story, crimson red structure. It hadn't changed since the last time I saw it. It still had the same large white porch and 6 foot tall grey fence enclosing the backyard. Its simple look and private garden made it easy to rent out to families over the years.

"-Wesley? Hello?" My mother opened the back door of the car, where I was, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Well are you going to help?" She asked, sounding a bit annoyed as she had one of the many heavy boxes from the trunk in her hands.

Without answering, I got out of the car and grabbed the small amount of essentials that I had brought and made my way inside. I knew that I was being a dick, but I would help later when the moving truck arrives. And by help, I mean that I would carry my boxes and only my boxes. They were the ones who forced me to come back to this shitty town only a few months into my senior year. They could unload their own damn boxes.

***

"Wes, all I'm asking is that you help carry in the heavy stuff-" my mom shouts, but I cut her off.

"And all I'm asking is that you do it yourself! It was your bright idea to move back here in the first place, so you can deal with the work that comes with it!" My tone is cold.

The moving truck had arrived about an hour ago, and I was sitting peacefully on one of the boxes as my parents brought everything in.

"Don't give me that. We had to move. Your father was needed here for his work," she tried to explain, but all I heard was bull shit.

"Yeah, I've heard that one before," I scoffed.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She squinted her eyes.

"Well considering all the therapy and," I gestured to myself, "remodeling I had to go through, I think you know exactly what I mean."

"Are you seriously blaming us for you losing your friend?" She was using that, I'm about to snap voice.

"Its not our fault that she ditched you Wesley! Her abandoning you is not mine and your father's problem, so just stop!" And there it was... ouch.

She stormed out of the room and the second she was gone, I grabbed the nearest thing to me- which happened to be a picture frame lying inside an open box- and I threw it against the wall, causing it to shatter. I didn't bother to pick it up, look at it, or anything, before I stormed out the front door. I had to get away before I ruined something else. Horrible memories of the pain I went through trying to forget her clouded my mind.

I paced through town in a blind rage. Somehow, my feet knew where to go. It was like my subconscious took charge and led me down every turn. All I saw was red. God, I needed to work on my anger issues. But then, something caught my eye. I looked to my left to see Frosty's, the small ice cream shop on the corner of Rosè Rd. and Fifth. It was the same shop where I had so many memories. As I walked, I glanced through the large windows and saw that it looked the exact same as the last time I had been there. The same ice cream shaped furniture, the same cotton candy clouds dangling from the ceiling, the worker even wore the same uniform. As happier memories started sneaking their way into my mind, my mouth quirked up at the sides, ever so slightly.

My happiness was short lived however, as a shoulder slammed into mine.

"Watch where you're-" I angrily shouted as I turned to see who had rammed into me. I was cut off however when I looked into a pair of ocean eyes.

As my grey orbs met her blue ones, everything seemed to slow down. I knew those eyes. It was as if they were a distant memory that I couldn't quite grasp. Things quickly sped up again though as a crowd, coming out of nowhere, separated us right as she had opened her mouth to say something.

Don't look back. Don't look back. Don't look back. I kept telling myself, but my head turned without my consent, and I glanced back at her. To my disappointment though, she was gone.

I knew her. I don't know how, but I knew her.

***

It was almost 9 p.m. by the time I got back home. I had spent hours walking around town, trying to calm down and clear my head.

I walked through the front door to find that a good amount of the boxes had been unpacked. I was making my way to the stairs, when I heard a crunch beneath my foot.

I looked down to find the picture frame that I had smashed earlier. I hope it wasn't too important.

I picked up the frame, being careful not to cut myself on the broken glass, and flipped it over so that I could see what photo it was.

I nearly dropped it the second I saw the image. It was me and... and the girl.

God we looked so happy. I haven't smiled like that in a long time.

I quickly looked around for the box that I had taken it out of and once I found it, I didn't hesitate to dump everything out.

Memories started to resurface as I looked at all of the old gifts she had ever given me. There were so many, ranging from teddy bears to homemade cards. I looked at the box again and noticed it was labeled "W + A." What did that mean? Wesley and A... Abigail.... Astrid... Ally... Alisha?? I just couldn't remember.

I couldn't help the small bit of warmth my heart felt looking at all this old stuff though.

I didn't like that. I was not falling back into old habits. She is not the sweet little girl who got me all of this stuff all those years ago. She is a stone cold bitch as far as I'm concerned. So with that, I shoved everything back into the box and sealed it tight.