Hey T, how’s it going? I just topped my fro-yo with Oreos and Nutella and it made me think of you.
I call her straight away.
“I miss you already,” I whine into my phone, flopping backwards onto my bed like the dramatic best friend I am. On the screen, Alex is practically glowing, California sun already working its magic. She looks so different from the girl I met freshman year. She’s confident, radiant and I couldn’t be happier for her.
“When’s your first shift at Luzia?” she asks. “Thursday, right?”
“Yeah, Thursday night. I’m kind of nervous actually.”
“Please.” Alex scoffs. “I’ve yet to discover something you’re not great at. You’ll probably be running the place by next week.”
I laugh, faking confidence I don’t quite feel. “Obviously. I’ll be making more tips than I know how to spend.”
“That’s my girl. Just don’t make any new best friends. You can make new friends but that spot is mine or I’ll have to fly back and defend my position.”
I roll my eyes but promise not to fill that spot.
“How is the work? Is it what you imagined?” I ask her.
“The lab is amazing,” she gushes, “and everyone here isso passionateabout environmental justice. Seriously, they make me look like a small-time protestor and—” She stops, squinting at me through the screen like a disapproving mom. “Are you wearing my UMS hoodie?”
“Maybe.” I tug at the worn fabric, grinning like the thief that I am. “You left it here, and I’m claiming it as mine through best friend privileges. It’s basically a law. Like gravity, or the fact that chocolate is an acceptable breakfast food if you’re alone.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “You can keep it. At least someone’s getting use out of it. Freddie keepstexting me pictures of him at the gym looking all sad and alone. Yesterday he sent me a photo of his toast with a sad face drawn on it in ketchup.”
“Gross. You guys are disgusting.” But I’m smiling too, because watching Alex and Freddie figure their shit out last year was better than any rom-com. And trust me, I’ve watched them all. Twice. Three times if Robert Pattinson is involved.
“Speaking of disgusting couples,” Alex’s eyes get that dangerous glint that usually precedes me doing something embarrassing, “how is the community service going?”
I groan, pulling a pillow over my face like it might protect me from this conversation. “We haven’t started yet. I’m trying to coordinate schedules with Mr. Moody McMoody, but he’s being typical Alfie about it.”
“You mean mysterious and attractive?”
“I mean impossible!” My cheeks are heating up. “And we are not talking about this. Tell me more about California.”
Alex laughs without hiding her face. When we first met she was so freakin’ shy it was painful. God, I remember that first week of classes like it was yesterday. Alex was hiding behind her textbooks like they were a shield against the world, brilliant but so unsure of herself. It was like looking in a time machine, seeing myself from five years ago.
“Tara, are you listening?” Alex’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “You zoned out. Thinking about a certain grumpy geology major?”
“No! I was thinking about high school, actually. About how we both used to be shy.”
“You? Shy?” Alex looks skeptical. “I can’t picture it.”
“Oh my god, I was the worst. I wore matching outfits from the mall and tried to laugh at the right jokes. Then I read this book that basically said, ‘screw fitting in’ and it was like”—I wave my hands, trying to find the words—“like permission to be weird.”
“Is that when the fairy wings happened?”
“Troy told you about those?”
“Freddie told me. Apparently, Troy has a picture somewhere of small you in wings and combat boots?”
I sit up so fast I almost drop my phone. “He what?”
Alex’s grin turns wicked. “Oh yeah, from some high school football game? Troy was playing, you were cheering?—”
“That was my protest against traditional cheerleader uniforms!”
“Actually, I’m going to ask him for a copy of it…”
