Dreams

Conrad - December
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"You idiot!" Tom yells at me, slapping the back of my head. "I tell you to hang on to her, and what do you do not even two hours later? You practically break up with the girl! How dumb can a person be?"

I roll my eyes and scratch the back of my neck, "I was pissed, alright? After you left, I just kept thinking about how soon Sara would be leaving, and it made me curious why she even bothered to get a boyfriend in the first place, so I asked, and that's what happened. It's not like I planned on one question turning into a goddamn fight!"

I try to reach for my Jack Daniels on the counter but Tom swipes it away. "Two things. One: How'd you get this? You're still eighteen. Two: Why did you have to ask Sara that in the first place? Why couldn't you just enjoy what was in front of you?"

I roll my eyes and sit on of the boxes, feeling it begin to cave in under my weight. Standing back up, I roam my living room, where my couch used to be, where the coffee table stood for so long. "One: I found it in the truck of your car. Two: I...I don't know. I just -- I wanted to know. Is that such a bad thing?"

"Yes, you nincompoop! It is a bad thing when -- wait. Why were you in my trunk?"

I roll my eyes and lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. I remember me and Sara laying under the stars the day we went on our first official date -- her laugh, her eyes glowing in the sunset, her listening to me play guitar, her rant about wanting to president of the United freaking States. The memory triggers a pain in my stomach and I try to ignore it, but it won't go away.

Don't move yet, a voice coaxes in the back of my mind. She'll be home soon to visit her parents and you can see her...

"Con! Why were you in my trunk?" Tom's standing over me, taking his own swig from the Jack Daniels bottle.

"I don't remember...but that's not even relevant!" My cell phone rings and I wedge it out of my pocket. Sara's name and picture flashes across the front screen and I squeeze my eyes shut. She hasn't called in months and now she decides to contact me?

"Don't be mad she's calling now, dude," Tom says from above me, as if reading my thoughts. "You haven't called her since either."

I open my eyes again and groan, placing my cell on the ground beside me. I watch it jump around, taunting me, begging me to answer it.

I don't.

After a couple seconds, it finally stops buzzing and I sigh in relief. That is until a minute later, my phone rings again and I glance at it. One new voice mail.

"Listen to it, man." Tom says, taking a seat behind me. "I'll even give you the rest of the Daniels if you at least hear what she has to say."

Eying the alcohol, I bring the phone to my ear and listen to the robotic lady tell me to punch in my voice mail pin. I motion toward Tom, my fingers waiting to wrap around the neck of the bottle of liquor. He sighs and hands me the bottle. Taking a sip, I feel it burn like a fire down my throat and made its way toward my stomach -- calming my nerves slightly.

"Hey, Con." Just hearing her voice after all these months sends me into a frenzy. I wanted to cry, to call her, to beg for her forgiveness. "I know it's been a while. Five months, to be exact." Someone says something in the background, and I hear Sara whisper, "Shut up, Brenna, I'm getting to it!"

She clears her throat before saying, "Con...I'm sorry. About everything. And when I say everything, I mean everything. Like the time I used your toothbrush without asking and how I still haven't told you...well, until now."

"That's so gross, Sara," someone else says and there's a thud before that same voice squeals. "Don't throw pillows at me!"

"Anyway," Sara's perfect voice continues, "Words don't describe how much I miss you, but just because I miss you, doesn't mean you miss me, and I understand that. I do. But just in case there's this slim chance that you really remember this summer, that you really do miss me, I'm coming home from Dartmouth today. Well, I'm my flight's leaving today, but I won't get there until late tonight or sometime tomorrow. So if you're still in the area...I, uh, I don't know." There's a pause and some sort of sniffle that breaks my heart into two. "I just...I hope to see you."

I don't realize my eyes are closed and when I hear her voice whisper, "I still love you," from the receiver, I feel like she could be sitting right next to me, her lips at my ear, a smile on her beautiful face.

The phone clicks and the robotic voice comes back, scaring me, and asking if I want to delete the message or not.

I don't. I listen to it again. And then another time, taking a long swig of the alcoholic bottle tight in my grip.

Sara still loved me. She missed me. She'll be here tomorrow.

But even as I think that, my mind makes a choice of its own and I know I won't be here when she comes back. All the boxes surrounding me will be gone, and I will be, too.

Risking seeing her, risking falling in love with her again (even though I didn't really fall out of it in the first place) wasn't something I wanted right now.

It would just lead to trouble.

Tom pats my leg, his voice so far even though he's right next to me. "So what happened after she ran out of your apartment again?"