I was grateful when the bell finally rang. I shoved my things into my backpack and made a beeline for the door, leaving Madison in my dust. I stalled for a moment before leaving the room, but then I saw out of the corner of my eye Eden Marcus walking up to Chase.
Of course she would want to talk to him. The most popular girl in ninth grade would want to meet the hot new guy on campus. I watched as he put out his hand with a smile on his face. His whole attention was set on her and it made me cringe. I whipped around and stomped off to my next class.
I had thought of our reunion every day after Chase had left all those years ago, and this wasn’t at all what I had expected.
I had hoped that once we saw each other it would be like it was before.
I would be his peaches and he would be my Chase.
Now, I was just Erica, but he was still my Chase.
Chase
When I had walked into that class room today, I knew the second my eyes landed on the pitch-black hair, that she was my peaches. I knew it even more in my soul when I watched her hit her head on the desk when the teacher said my name.
I darted my eyes around the room, not meeting hers while she stared at me. I knew she recognized me in that moment and I was more than happy to see that the only open seat was right next to her. I made my way down the aisle and took my seat.
That’s where it all ended, though.
That happiness I was feeling. That elation that the girl I had been in love with since I moved out of Atlanta still knew who I was, and possibly still had the same feelings we did when we were nine.
It all ended because she had no idea who I was.
She stuck her hand out at me with no recognition on her face.
“Hi, I’m Erica.”
I looked down at the hand pointed directly at me and it felt like a stab to the heart.
Somehow I had missed the signs and my heart had played tricks on my mind and made it think she remembered me.
I put my hand out and gave her a curt shake, my anger getting the best of me.
How could I have expected her to remember who I was when it had been so long?
“I’m Chase.” I turned away from her and grabbed my notebook and pencil, ready to start class and get it over with because the longer I was in her presence the more I wanted to say it, but I had this feeling if I did, she would probably run away and scream, thinking I was a stalker.
I watched as she retreated to her desk and covered the whole thing with her body, her light blue skirt billowing over her legs and her pink shirt tucked into it and forming to every curve she had. The few years we had been apart hadn’t changed how she looked, but she was older now, growing into her own skin, and it made me want to ask if she was seeing anyone, because any guy would be crazy to not want her.
She worked on the problems Mrs. Carmichael gave us and I found myself more focused on the way Erica worked so frivolously, than the work itself. She seemed to work on them with such ease, unlike me, who struggled every day with math.
Words were more my thing. In the margins of my notebook I scribbled words down that I would later take and craft into a poem. That’s what I worked with most, poetry. I was slightly new to prose and didn’t find much love for it, but when I looked over at Erica, so engrossed in her work with numbers, I felt like I would write a book full of poetry, just on her alone.
I had thought over the years how I could have written her, but even when I asked my father about getting her information and sending it to her, he refused. Something about me being so young and not knowing who the letter might actually end up with. He even said if I insisted, he would need to read the letters first. So instead, the silence between Erica and me grew. Now I would have asked for her phone number, but still, my father would probably want to coach me on each conversation, you know, being the politician he is and all, just looking out for my best interest.
When the bell finally rang I put my belongings into my bag and watched as Erica practically ran out of the class room, not even waiting for her friend that had said her name aloud. I stood from my chair and was bombarded by a girl who had too blond hair and red lipstick that did her no justice. She smiled at me and a smear was left on her two front teeth.
“Hi, I’m Eden.” Her voice was too sugary, like she had an agenda I wasn’t a part of.
I could see out of the corner of my eye that Erica had stopped at the class door, standing there looking our way. It was the slightest look, but I couldn’t help the smile that filled my lips. She was looking this way, so there must be something she remembered or was even curious about when it came to me. I could work with that.
Eden stepped closer to me and stuck out a hand, which I shook out of respect, but the second I did, Erica was out the door.
I focused back to the girl in front of me and clearly she thought the smile was for her. I dropped it and my hand immediately and turned away from her, heading to my next class.
“Chase!” Eden called after me as she followed me out of the classroom and down the hallway. I was headed to my second class, advanced English lit, a class I knew Erica wouldn’t be in. You see, it’s always been this way. Me good with words, her good with numbers. Even when we were kids.
I didn’t stop at Eden’s words, but instead ignored them as I made my way to class. When I entered, I made sure the door closed behind me, boxing me into a room where words would fill me, and they did.
It was what I needed right now, words that brought joy to my heart, but when I looked down at the paper and what I was writing, it slowly started to destroy my soul at the same time.
Because the only words that were coming from me was Erica’s name.
