Chasing Forever

“You look fine, Lorain.” Topher urged although his face was telling me the exact opposite of what his words were.

“I look like lemon meringue,” I protested holding the sheer yellow fabric in my hands, trying to make sense of it.

Topher put one hand behind the back of his head and stared absently at the dress before giving me an apologetic look.

“Lemon meringue’s good….”

“Topher!”

“Okay, okay,” he said throwing his hands up. “I’m sorry about the dress. But Margie is really happy you wanted to be her bridesmaid.”

My jaw dropped.

“I wanted to be her bridesmaid?! I believe that was my best friend getting ‘There is no way in hell I will be your sister’s bridesmaid.’ mixed up with ‘Oh, sure. I’ll be in her wedding! And while we’re at it, why not dress me up like a banana too!’”

Now Topher had his hand cupping his elbow while the other one was placed at his mouth.

“Lemon meringue.” he corrected.

“UGH!”

I stomped over to his bed, making the biggest scene I could in a room with only two people. He followed after me and spun me around before I could sit.

“Now don’t get all worked up. You’ll ruin your hair.” he said referring to the large mass of curls at the crown of my head.

“Are you trying to make me hate you? Because it’s working.”

He laughed before looking me in the eyes, hands placed on my shoulders.

“Have I said thank you?”

“Must’ve missed it.” I fired back although he knew how hard it was for me to stay mad with those eyes.

With that, he took me in his arms and held me tight. I sighed and wrapped my arms around him, giving in to my thoughts and fears of today.

“Do you think he’ll be there, Toph?” The words came out slow, quiet, weak.

I felt him loosen a little.

“Yes, Lorain, we’ve been through this. He called me a week ago to RSVP.”

I looked around my best friend’s room. We were centered in the middle and to our right his bed lay against the wall, cluttered with sheet music for his guitar, his life. Behind him was his computer, where he made CD’s and mixes of all the different songs he wrote. And to the left of us, where my eyes always seemed to wonder, was the collage he made our sophomore year of high school. It was overflowing with pictures of him playing his guitar, him with his family, and him with his friends. But there was one picture that my eyes consistently found. It was taken the summer before Topher and I became sophomores. His dad took him fishing at the lake not far from here and he’d just caught a huge bass which he was holding up proudly to his right. But to the right of the fish stood his best friend at the time; Greyson Lynell.

“It’s gonna be okay, Lor,” I heard Topher say, awaking me from my reverie.

I sighed.

“I know.” I lied. Because the truth was, it wasn’t okay. It hadn’t been okay for twenty months, one week, and two days. I’d been lost, it seemed, for just shy of two years and tonight was only going to remind me of that.

“What are you gonna do if he tries to talk to you?” Topher asked.

I closed my eyes for minute, taking my eyes off the picture of Topher and Greyson for the first time since he was brought up.

“He won’t.” I stated simply.

“But how do you know--”

“He won’t.”

He let out one final sigh and released me, taking my hand.

“You ready for a wedding?” he asked, changing the subject.

Now, it was my turn to sigh.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

With that, we made our way downstairs and to his car.

It was a nice day out, I would say that much. The sun was shining and the temperature was at a stable 65 degrees. There was a slight breeze and the air smelled of fall as summer started drifting away.

As we made our way to the church, I tried my best not to let my mind wander. Topher and I discussed music, the way we always did when he knew I needed to focus. He told me about the new song he’d been writing just for Margie and Bill’s wedding and how he couldn’t wait to see what everyone’s initial reaction to it would be.

And then, finally, we were there. I stared outside my window at the little white church decorated in balloons and flowers. And then I let my gaze wander to the cars parked alongside the road and in the parking lot. Soon enough, I found just the red truck I was looking for. The same beat up old truck that practically had its own parking spot at my house for nearly seven months. The same truck that I used to ride home in from school every day. The same truck I had my first kiss in….

Greyson’s truck.

“You coming?” I heard Topher ask as he opened my door and helped me out of his car.

“Yeah,” I said in a hurry as I got to my feet.

I watched as he stuck out his elbow to me.

“Ready for this?”

I looked once more at the red truck exactly nine spaces down from us before taking a deep breath and wrapping my arm around his.

“Ready,” I lied for it was the only thing I could do.