One in a Million

Dear Caroline,

I miss you so much already, it’s crazy. I just got back from dropping you off at the airport. Too many tears, love. Too many tears. My eyes are going to be ultra puffy tomorrow morning. But I know yours are just the same. You better get back to boring old Arizona soon. Don’t you remember what we planned? All day by the pool, all night by the campfire. I have no one to have slumber parties with now. Sad face. Well, actually, there’s Dylan…But she’s leaving for soccer camp in a few weeks. Y’all are leaving me one by one.

The apartment’s so empty without you and Roxy. I might seem like I hate that crazy dog, but honestly her yelping would be so nice right now. All I can hear is the sound of my typing – depressing, huh? I should probably finish unpacking tomorrow. These boxes in the living room are pretty boring and I realized when I got home that the Nutella jar is in the bottom of one of them. Now, I can’t have that – you know me and my Nutella.

Anyway, I dare you to come home soon. I’ll have your room painted and decorated before you even write back. Let the three month countdown begin. Send me your new number once you get it. I love you, kid.

Xoxo,
Aalia.

She clicked ‘send’ on the e-mail and sighed into the silence. It had been so quiet without her loud, lovable best friend around, singing obnoxiously in the shower and crying uncontrollably with her during their weekly chick flicks. Caroline had gone to California to visit her family for the summer and try out for her first acting gig in Los Angeles. Aalia knew she was having a good time there, but she couldn’t help feeling remorseful at the fact that she was alone with no plans, no one to talk to, and no dog to feed.

It was going to be a long three months.

Aalia closed her laptop and stood, jumping over the brown cardboard boxes sitting in a row against the wall and escaping into her bedroom. The bare walls brought her down, but she tried to shrug it off and dig through her closet to find her gym clothes. Suddenly, the phone perched on her side table vibrated, making her jump.

“I throw my hands up in the air sometimes, singin’ aye-oh, gotta let go…” Her ringtone blared loudly, filling the room. She caught it between her manicured fingers.

“Dylan, I’m almost ready. I just have to change,” she spoke into the receiver while pulling out a tank top, sports bra, and pair of shorts and throwing them on her mattress.

“Ugh, you take forever to get ready, Al. You’re such a girl,” Dylan replied, annoyed. The two of them had planned to work out together that morning.

“And you’re not?” Aalia laughed, “Tomboy, yes. But you’re still a chick and can’t change the fact you have a vagina. Well, actually, you can…But that’s gross and if you ever got a sex change, I would disown you as my friend.”

Dylan chuckled over the phone. “Al, shut up and get changed. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Fine, and don’t call me Al!”

Aalia hung up and let her phone fall on the bed. She stripped off her pajamas and changed, grabbing a hair band and pulling her straight brunette hair into a high ponytail. The fact that she was going to the gym didn’t prevent her from brushing on a little mascara and Chapstick. She grabbed her phone, gym bag, keys, and sunglasses, and walked out of the room. After lacing on her white sneakers, she was out the door, meeting Dylan in her Honda at the end of the street, who was blasting a loud pop song through her speakers.

“You know what I don’t get?” Aalia said as she threw her bag into the backseat and sat down.

“Everything?” Dylan guessed, smirking.

“Ha, funny.” She reached over to put on her seatbelt as Dylan backed out of her parking space. “You’re so not the Jonas Brothers type.”

Dylan laughed, turning up the music.

“They have good songs. Not my fault.”

“Uh huh,” Aalia said, putting her feet up on the dashboard.

“You miss Caroline yet?” asked Dylan.

Aalia groaned. “Like hell, dude. I can’t believe she went to Cali without me.”

“Well, you got me.”

Aalia grinned.

“But I don’t do chick flicks.”

“You liked Titanic!”

“I only pretended to like it so you would stop asking me if I liked it.”

Aalia laughed. “Liar.”

“…Shut up.”

The two of them chatted and sang along to the radio all the way to the gym, where they parked the car and signed in. Aalia dug her iPod out of her bag and hopped on the closest treadmill as Dylan went off to find her trainer. Running was one of Aalia’s favorite things – she could actually think as her favorite song blasted through her headphones and her legs burned with fatigue. Her lungs gasped for air after the first hour, but she felt so alive. It was the only time she felt like she was doing exactly what she was doing.

All her friends had something going for them, some dream they were going after. Caroline was an aspiring actress – she’d been in three commercials already. Dylan wanted to be a professional lightweight boxer. She was already the top fighter in their small Arizona town. Aalia dreamed of being a singer. She was thirsty for music. She wanted to write lyrics and sing songs onstage in front of millions of people, touching each and every one of them with her words.

But she was getting nowhere.

And she was sick of it all.