Amber rays flood over my desk from the brass lamp, the only light in the room since the moonless midnight outside is black as pitch. Sleep’s elusive. Every time I close my eyes, I think of Jett, our wager from the other day, and how much I want to tell Emmalyn all about it.
The nerves. The happiness. The fear. The anger. Only a best friend can help sort out all those mixed-up emotions somersaulting in my stomach.
But would she even care at this point?
I open my laptop. The blue screen comes to life, so bright it mars my vision, and I wince as my eyes adjust. I click open the email browser, the cursor flashing in the text box. Blip…blip…blip…blip. It tells me to get off my stubborn butt and contact her already.
To: <Emmalyn Henderson>
From: <CJ Ainsworth>
Date: May 15
Subject: Long Time, No Talk
Hey Em. It’s CJ, but I guess you already know that. How are you?
Ok, that sounds like small talk, but I do want to know. I hate not knowing things about you when I used to know everything. Things have been…weird.
I saw a picture of you, me, and Noli-Belle online the other day, and I remembered last summer when we spent the night at each other’s houses like four times a week. I miss those days. I miss us.
I know you prefer texting, but I can’t muster the courage to do it. If I text you and you don’t respond right away, I’ll know how angry you are. If I email and don’t get a response, at least I can pretend this got lost in SPAM and had nothing to do with you ignoring me.
I haven’t said it yet, so I’ll say it now: I’m sorry. There’s no reason to turn your back on your best friend, but I did. It’s just…you reminded me of how great my life was before. I can never get that life back now. Talking to you was too hard, because it reminded me of that.
I don’t know if any of that even makes sense. It does in my mind, but that’s probably not the most reliable measurement of sanity these days. (That was a joke by the way. Go ahead and laugh. I want you to.)
Please forgive me. For the first time in almost a year, there’s hope things are going to get better. It’s a faint glimmer, but it’s there when it never was before. I want to tell you all about it, but I realize it might be too late for all that now. I was depressed and took my friendship away. You didn’t deserve that, but I’m hoping somewhere down deep, you still want me around.
I miss you, Em.
<3, CJ
I flounce backward, my shoulder blades digging into the wooden chair. There it is in black and white. All my heartfelt emotion, devoid of the usual cynicism, laid bare, exposing my vulnerability. A brand of honesty so dangerous, it forces me out there, unprotected, unguarded and with no control over the outcome.
The flashing cursor morphs into a hand, its digital finger pointing at Send. I sigh, slide the mouse over the icon, and click. The email disappears from the screen, replaced by a pop-up message. Saved to Drafts.