Daphne Descends

Sydney and Noora sat curled up on the couch in a big fluffy blanket. The floral aroma of the tea they were drinking helped calm Sydney's nerves to some extent. When Noora had come to collect her, unforgiving reality had slapped Sydney across the face and she sobbed so hard, she thought she might make herself sick. Three years gone, just like that. Sydney felt embarrassed at all of her attempts to reignite their spark now knowing that Ville no longer loved her. She laid her head on Noora's shoulder, their feet propped up on the coffee table as they sipped their tea.

"We can go tomorrow and get the rest of your things. Miko has a storage unit downtown we can put everything in. We can start apartment hunting tomorrow." Noora suggested softly. The glow of the TV flooded the room though neither of them were paying attention to it.

"I don’t have that much stuff,” Sydney sighed, “I just want to go home." Noora planted a sweet kiss on the top of her best friend's head, "Then that's what we'll do." She reassured her, "You’ve got to be back for the wedding though."

Sydney smiled weakly as she admired the cushion cut diamond ring on Noora’s finger, “I wouldn’t miss it for anything."

"Noora?" Sydney started.

Sipping her tea, she replied, "Hmm?"

"Thank you."

Noora smiled and gave Sydney's shoulder a tight squeeze, "Remember when we met?"

A slight chuckle escaped Sydney, "How could I forget?"

Noora had come to live with Sydney ten years prior as part of a student exchange program. For weeks before Noora arrived, Sydney had her nose stuck in a Finnish to English translation book and listened to nothing, but instructional tapes. She had even made up worksheets for herself.

During Noora’s time with Sydney and her family, the two had grown very close. When Noora went back home they kept in touch constantly by writing letters and sending care packages back and forth. Occasionally they talked on the phone. When Sydney graduated high school, Noora’s family invited her to spend the summer with them in Helsinki. At a family cook-out she was taken with a beautiful boy who had become equally enamored; Noora’s cousin, Ville.

"All that work you did and your Finnish was still shit." Noora giggled.

Sydney gave an apathetic chuckle, "It's gotten better."

"Oh, it's definitely gotten better, but I had trouble understanding you for a week."

"Well, you know you could have told me you spoke perfect English." Sydney shot back.

"It was more fun to watch you suffer." A devilish grin spread across Noora's mouth as Sydney playfully punched her leg. They settled down and sat in silence again, save for the television.


The next morning, Noora’s soft snoring quietly echoed through the living room. They had fallen asleep wrapped up on the couch. Sydney sat staring blankly at the living room wall, her head was pounding from last night’s events and the sunlight streaming in through the white curtains didn’t help. She had cuddled into the arm of the couch, determined to sleep off her migraine, when a series of chimes erupted from her phone on the oak coffee table in front of her.

With no intentions of answering the incoming call, Sydney peered over at it anyway. Her heart dropped at the sight of Ville’s name on the screen. She hadn’t even thought about deleting his phone number.

“Are you going to answer him?” Noora croaked as she sat up, pushing her messy red hair out of her face.

“How do you know it’s him?” Sydney cocked an eyebrow at her friend. Standing up to stretch, Noora replied, “He text me while you were sleeping last night.” The chimes finally stopped as the call was forwarded to voicemail.

“Why?” Sydney inquired, her voice thick with irritation, “Why can’t he just leave well enough alone?” She continued to stare at the missed call notification; riddled with curiosity at what he had to say, but at the same time, completely uninterested. Noora sighed and plopped down on the couch beside her.

“He still cares about you, Syd.” She explained. Sydney rolled her eyes. A single chime alerted her to a new voicemail.

“He really does,” Noora insisted, “he was worried about you last night. He wanted to know if you were okay.” Sydney glared at her.

“Physically okay, I mean.” Noora clarified. Sydney’s eyes shifted to back to the phone in her hand as she flipped it around in her palm.

“I don’t know what that voicemail says and you don’t have to listen to it now, but I encourage you to eventually.” Noora said softly as she twiddled her thumbs.

“He has some things he needs to say to you. Things that are important for him to get off his chest and that are important for you to hear. And I’m sure you probably have some things you need to say, too.” A warm tear fell down Sydney’s cheek and splattered on the phone’s screen.

Noora continued, “Like I said, you don’t have to talk to him right now, but I think you really need to when you’re ready.”

“What if I’m never ready?” Sydney challenged. Noora sighed, resting her head in her hand, tucking the hair that fell in Sydney’s face behind her ear, “You will be at some point.”

“We’ll see.” Sydney croaked, “Do you have anything for a headache?”


Later that morning, Sydney and Noora went back to the tower to get the rest of Sydney’s things. Nausea crept it’s way into Sydney’s belly and up her throat. Expressionless, she moved through the house gathering a few articles of clothing and some shoes. There wasn’t much that she wanted or needed to take. She entered the bathroom and her stomach lurched at the faint scent of Ville’s cologne. He hadn’t long left before they arrived.

“Is that everything?” Noora called down the hallway to Sydney. She didn’t respond.

Poking her head into the bedroom, Noora called out to Sydney again, “Syd? Is this everything?” She asked, gesturing to the small cardboard box in her arms.

Sydney was holding a small silver jewelry box that Ville had given her on their first Christmas. She ran her thumb over her initials engraved on the lid while she twirled the necklace he had given her in the other. It was a dainty silver chain with a small pendent. Under a layer of resin was a small piece of a map of the location where they had first met.

Reaching around her neck she unclasped the necklace and let it collect in her hand. Sydney opened the jewelry box and the engraving inside seemed to mock her.

Forever.
V.H.V. ‘05

Laying the necklace inside, Sydney closed the jewelry box and pushed it back to the corner of the bathroom counter. Wiping a few tears from her eyes she turned to Noora, “Yep, let’s go.”

The two marched down the stairs to the front door when, out of the corner of her eye, Sydney spotted the guitar Ville had given her. He had taught Sydney how to play and surprised her with a gorgeous Ibáñez 240. Some nights they would stay up until sunrise playing together. Ville correcting her form and strum patterns, often singing along as they played.

“Take it, Syd.” Noora encouraged her.

Sydney shook her head, turning back to Noora, “I don’t want it.”

“That is a $300 guitar, he bought it for you, take it!” Noora demanded.

“He can have it.” Sydney shook her head, fishing her copy of the house key out of the pocket of her jeans, and tossing it onto the small table by the front door. Sighing, Noora turned on her heel and went to go put the box she was carrying in the car.

Sydney took one last glance around the place she had called home for the last two years and wiped away the tears that threatened to fall. Noora came up behind her and gave her a reassuring pat on the back.

“Alright, let’s roll.” Sydney declared as she stepped out the door, making sure to lock it behind them. While walking back to Noora’s car, a familiar series of chimes assaulted her ears. Reaching around to her back pocket, without looking, Sydney hit the power button on her phone, and sent the call to voicemail. A few minutes later her phone buzzed again.

1 New Voicemail