I stare at her wine-red curls on my screen.
“Fair point,” I say. “I guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?”
“I guess we shall,” Faye intones, regal as always.
“Welp. Faye, keep your eye out for a delivery. You should be getting something by today,” I announce.
“Blairy, stop, you shouldn’t have!” she squeals.
“Oh, please. Don’t thank me yet. You might think it’s hideous,” I joke, deflecting her excitement.
“Ohhhh, you’re the sweetest. If it’s from you I’ll love it no matter what.” Faye blows kisses from her hand to the phone screen and I pretend to dodge them.
I ordered a customizable kitchenware set from Etsy with her new initials engraved on them. Faye’s boyfriend of two years proposed the spring of our senior year and they eloped in France before spring break was over. (She always joked that a “ring by spring” was the ultimate goal of college. She of all people was much too attractive to make that joke. And apparently, it wasn’t one.) Her now-husband landed an engineering job that would bring enough income in for both of them, regardless of whether she chose to work or not. She has informed us over innocuous champagne-fueled giggles that she will be choosing the latter.
Roshi rolls her eyes in the box that hovers beside Faye’s. “Ugh, I wish I were a housewife right now. If any of you would like to memorize the contents of my Civil Procedure textbook for me before school starts, let me know.”
“Pass,” I say.
“Yep. Hard pass,” Faye says.
We all became close after our first week at Pepperdine University, but much to our disappointment, our lives have diverged onto vastly different paths since our last day living together in our Facebook Marketplace–furnished apartment.
Roshi got accepted to Harvard Law School. Faye moved into an apartment with Stephen in Virginia. And when I was supposed to go to NYC for my consulting job, we planned multiple trips to see each other, our new states just a skip and a hop away. But now we had zero dates on the calendar, reduced to seeing each other’s faces on a phone screen.
Roshi clears her throat, looking solemn suddenly. “Um, so, how’s Lottie doing?” she asks, saying the words quickly.
“Oh.” I wave my hand, discomfort fueling the movement. “She’s uhh— She’s been better,” I say, lips pressing together in an awkward line.
Roshi and Faye nod in unison, eyes downcast. There’s a moment of tense silence.Anddddd this is exactly why I don’t discuss these things, I think to myself.
“Well, let us know if you need anything, Blink,” Roshi says, finally ending the weird lull in the conversation.
“Yes, please let us know!” Faye adds.
“I will,” I say, knowing it’s a lie.
Roshi’s use of my nickname causes the genesis of our friendship to spring to mind. A week before my freshman year at Pepperdine, I forced myself to go to a mixer to meet some other kids my age, but of course, I was terrified. It was my first time being away from the tiny beach town of Seabrook where everyone was familiar and every corner was a safe haven of lush forestry and sandy cobblestone walkways.
The dark house was filled with sweaty bodies bopping to unintelligible mumble rap. My shoes stuck to the floor. The event had to be held off campus at an unofficial frat house to comply with alcohol codes on campus. I couldn’t have been further from my comfort zone.
I was pretending to fiddle with the drinks in the kitchen when a guy who had an uncanny side profile to Declan walked past. The disheveled blond-brown hair. The way he took his strides, elongating each one like he had to get the most out of each step. I was still fresh with hurt after our inexplicable separation. My whole body felt like an open wound.
The fight. The accident. His subsequent silence.
I froze, staring at his doppelgänger walking past me with my eyes wide open, looking like I’d seen a ghost. That’s when Roshi walked past.
She waved a hand in front of my face.
“Oh my gosh, blink!” she yelled. “Your eyes are gonna dry up and fall out!”
I did finally blink, and my eyes readjusted to the tiny girl standing before me, box-dyed cranberry hair and nose ring glinting in the low light.
“Are you okay?” she asked. The sincerity in her voice made my shoulders fall.
“Uh, yeah.” I shook my head and tried a laugh to make my weird behavior seem like a fluke. “Just thought I saw someone I knew.”
“Ooooo! You like them?” she guessed, wiggling her eyebrows as she looked at the boy I mistook for Declan. “Come on, I can introduce you to him!” She grabbed my wrist, but I quickly shut her down.
