For Baltimore

"Kris, we have to do this. You know that," he whispered into my hair. I was curled into his chest, my acceptance letter sitting on the couch beside us. "You deserve to follow your dreams, too."

He was right. And I knew he was right. But the goodbyes were getting easier each time, and I was finally thinking maybe, just maybe, we could do this whole long distance thing. Then again, I was deceiving myself. Sure, I loved Alex, but he was right, neither of us were willing to give up our own dreams just to be with each other. We were both far too driven for that. His were already coming to life, and I didn't want him to feel guilty for being away so frequently.

I looked up at Alex through my eyelashes. "You're right. Is.. is this goodbye?"

He pulled me towards him and kissed my lips softly. "It's more of a see you around."

I adjusted my skirt, and walked out of the bathroom, my eyes adjusting to the dimmer light of the bar. It was my last night in town, and despite my early flight the next morning, I was determined to make the most of my evening.

It was weird in a way, weird how after all these years, I was still able to fall into step with these people I'd rarely seen since I'd moved away. But I didn't spend forever pining after these people. That would be ridiculous. After all, Alex spent so little of his time here these days that I wasn't sure he could call Baltimore home any more than I could.

And I definitely didn't pine after the place. Chicago was my home now. I'd assimilated so well into the larger city that nobody questioned me when I said I was from Chicago. I'd lost my accent and no longer warshed my clothes in widder. I could navigate the CTA like a pro, and I still had a body of water nearby, even if it was kind of gross. Sure, I'd claimed I was only leaving for school, and I wouldn't forget my roots - that I'd be back in Baltimore in four years, but it'd been two years since I'd graduated, and I couldn't see myself leaving the midwestern city.

I slid back onto the stool I'd vacated just minutes before, listening in on their conversation. Okay, I wasn't really listening. I was a little distracted. It'd been over a year since I'd seen Alex, and despite the first year of awkwardness after I'd moved, we'd repaired our friendship and I tried to see him whenever possible. It just so happened "whenever possible" was pretty infrequently. His mussed-up hair had gotten even messier, if that was even possible, and I could see in the crinkles around his eyes and the stubble on his face that he was quickly aging. He definitely wasn't the eighteen-year-old boy I'd said goodbye to years earlier. He'd put on some weight, gotten some tattoos, died his hair weird colors, and...

He grinned at me. His same confident grin as always. I guess some things don't change. He leaned into me, his hot breath against my ear, "Hot damn, Kris. You look even better than I remember." I could smell the alcohol on his breath, but his voice still sent shivers down my spine.

It'd been six years. Six freaking years. And we were friends. Just friends. How did he still manage to have this effect on me? He was far more intoxicating than the drink in my hand. And this reminded me of so many nights before.

I wasn't sure how we'd gotten to this place in our friendship. Despite the initial awkwardness of not knowing how to act around each other, I'd started to relish in the few moments I'd see him each year, usually brief mid-afternoon coffees giving us just enough time to confirm that the other was doing fine before returning to our lives.

But tonight, that comfortable air we'd built up, the casual nonchalance we usually had around each other seemed to be missing. It wasn't a bad tension - no, it was quite the opposite. For the first time since I was nineteen, I was reflecting on the memories we had together, and I wasn't so sure this was the best time for that.

Removing my gaze from my drink, I looked up at Alex expectantly as I hopped down from my seat. His eyebrows crinkled in confusion as I put my hand out. He'd been droning on about something, but I'd been so lost in thought I hadn't really noticed.

"Uh, Kris, what are-" he started to ask.

"Shut up and take my hand, Alex," I demanded. Oops, didn't mean for that to come out as a demand. But he engulfed my smaller hand in his and gracefully slid out of his seat.