Don't Forget Me

My eyes watched as a small hand reached for another crayon. It was Purple Mountains Majesty; her favorite color. Her big blue orbs flickered up at me for a split second before she flashed me her smile. Little teeth glistened in the sunlight that poured through the large bay window in front of her. She had her father's smile. The girl's hand began to color once again while she babbled away happily. That smile.

Exhaling the smoke from my lungs, I noticed a figure near the doors to the gas station. I drew in a deep breath and sighed it right back out as I crushed the cigarette on the bottom of my shoe. Standing up, I straightened out my shirt and entered through the side door of the building just in time for the customer to walk in the main doors, flipping his hood down as his presence filled the room.

Taking my place behind the counter, I hardly watched him walk to the freezer doors in the back. I hated working night shift on the weekends especially. It took away from my rest between days full of classes and studying. But I was saving up for med school and that money just doesn't appear in my bank account.

There was no telling what kind of creeps would come in at two in the morning. Anything from drunk college students, weirdos high on whatever or newspaper deliverers preparing for the Sunday paper.

He finally neared the counter and emptied his arms. A few sodas, some chips and a handful of candy bars. I fought off a yawn

"Hi," I greeted with faux cheerfulness and raised my eyes to meet his. He flashed a gorgeous smile. My cheeks may have flushed under his intense eyes. I choose not to remember that part.

He made a dumb joke and I laughed; just like he wanted me to. And that was it. He walked out of the double doors, but not before he threw a final glance back at me over his shoulder. I pulled my anatomy book from my bag and began to flip through the pages.

We were only a few days shy of Alayna's third birthday. I hadn't seen her so excited since I took her to the zoo at the beginning of summer. Most of the hot, sticky season was full of unpacking and decorating instead of swimming and playgrounds.

I couldn't stay in Los Angeles any longer. When I finally had solid ground under my feet, I went in search for a new place to call home. Atlanta was everything I wanted it to be. I was far away from the university I had attended and away from the painful reminders. For most people, California was the dream. But for me, it was a nightmare.

"Mommy, are you even listening to me?" A little voice screeched. The eyes that mirrored my own scowled up at me. I sent her a sheepish grin.

"Of course I am," I insisted, "you were telling me you want a pink birthday cake this year," I tested myself. She gave an impressed nod and returned her eyes to her art. Smirking to myself, I was satisfied. Her birthday, especially her cake, was all she had been talking about ever since I told her it was finally August.

"It should have pretty flowers on it," she paused, bringing the hand she held her crayon in to her chin. She contemplated for a second, "maybe purple and yellow. Do you think that would be pretty, mommy?"

"I think it would be almost as beautiful as you, Princess," I told her lovingly as I shifted in the tiny human sized seat across from her. My knees bumped the two foot high table causing some crayons to roll around. Alayna's small face beamed up at me.

I yawned. For a moment, I thought about locking my door and ignoring my friends insistent knocks. All I wanted to do was close my eyes and drift into my dream world. I had been working my ass off for way too long now and sleep barely fit into my schedule. Graduation was only a few months away and I was due to take the test that would determine whether I would take the next step to become a surgeon or if all my hard work was for nothing. But yet, I made a promise that I would go out with the girls for Thirsty Thursday.

Before moving to undo the chain lock on the door, I fixed my naturally wavy hair in the mirror.

"Hey Iz," Ashley's overly happy voice squealed as she brushed past me, bouncing into the apartment my mother provided me with. Brielle followed her lead, giving me her friendly smile as she passed me and I closed the door behind her.

"Looks like you need a break more than I thought," Brielle observed as she let her eyes scan the books that were open to random pages spread across the table and even some on the floor. I simply shrugged.

It was a slightly chilly January night. I scolded myself in my head for choosing a skirt over leggings. My wedge sandal clad feet stepped into the bar and warm air felt like a blanket was thrown over my legs. The music was loud, there were people everywhere and the girls instantly spotted a free table.

I floated to the bar, saying hi to a few people on my way. Once there, I sat at an empty stool waiting for the bartender to get to me. Thursday was always a busy night here.

This bar was full of memories. It was, after all, where I celebrated my 21st birthday. I admired the signs on the wall and the familiar faces.

"You're the girl from the gas station," a voice sounded beside me. I could tell he was close considering I heard him over whatever rock song that played obnoxiously loud. With a side glance, I was certain he was speaking to me.

The dark eyes overwhelmed me and I could spot that smile anywhere. My mind remembered the night at work a few weeks back. I nodded with a small smile.

"Izobelle Brutuzzi," I told him even though he didn't ask. He smiled wider.

"Dave," he repeated in the same tone, "Dave Franco." He took my hand in his for a gentle shake and then raised the beer bottle to his lips.

I gave him my number that night. I probably shouldn't have.

My cell phone vibrated somewhere in my blankets but I ignored it. My mind was elsewhere while I stared at the ceiling above my bed. I pondered on my lost opportunity. I thought about the beautiful life I brought to the earth. She was perfect in every way. I couldn't ask for a smarter, more beautiful daughter. She was my everything but I often find myself wondering where I would be if I never met Dave Franco.

I would be in my last year of school, so close to living out my dream of becoming a neurosurgeon. Things would be so different. I wouldn't have worked my ass off for the past three years to be able to provide for my child. I'd be able to stay in California with my family and friends. But it was just too hard. I missed him so much. He was the best friend I'd ever have.

I pushed open the door to Dave's apartment like I owned the place. He took his eyes from the television and looked over, slightly taken off guard.

There he was, on the couch in nothing but black mesh basketball shorts, shoveling cereal in his mouth. His muscles glistened with a very thin later of sweat from his morning work out. My cheeks almost got warm at the sight, but I had big news. I ignored his perfect physique.

"Davey," I screeched loudly as I dropped my bag on the floor causing the cat that rested by his thigh to jump up and dart under the ugly grey couch. He raised a thick eyebrow at me. "I got into Johns Hopkins!" Setting his bowl down on the coffee table, his lips stretched into a wide smile that caused his eyes to almost disappear making him look completely identical to his older brother. He stood, sweeping me up in his arms and spun me in a circle.

"Congratulations, Iz, I knew you could do it," he stated sincerely once he stopped spinning and returned me to my feet. I could feel the heat from his body so close to mine. He didn't back away. Dave wasn't much taller than me; maybe two or three inches. Those gorgeous chocolate eyes searched deeply for something hidden in my own baby blues. My breath caught in my throat at his intensity. "I'm so proud of you," he spoke no louder than a whisper. Before I knew what was happening, his lips came crashing down onto mine and the thought of my future and career became clouded and pushed to the back of my brain.

That was the first time I slept with my best friend. Never sleep with your best friend.