Eden

 

Dress shopping had been a monumental success. Allie picked out this adorable filmy thing with a halter top and a skirt that came to her knees in the front but fell long into a short train in the back. It was lavender and looked amazing with her blonde hair. Connor was going to pee himself when he saw her.

Allie talked me into trying on the pink dress. It was a mermaid dress, tight from the sweetheart neck down my torso to my knees. The skirt flared from my knees to the floor in layer after layer of different shades of pink tulle. The sequined top sparked against my dark skin and I couldn’t help but feel glad that I’d let my hair grow back out this last summer. It was just long enough now to put it in a respectable up-do.

Not that I was going to go.

I wasn’t.

Right?

“Oh, hey, sweetie. There’s some mail for you. I put it on your bed,” mom said as she whirled passed me out the door, calling over her shoulder. “I’m meeting Dad for dinner. Don’t wait up.”

“Nice to see you, too,” I grumbled to the empty house. Hanging the pink dress on a hook by the front door, I made my way into the kitchen to warm up a microwave dinner. Mom may not cook but once a month, but she could at least be counted on to keep the freezer stocked.

I dug through the fridge hoping for a diet soda while I waited for the microwave to do its magic.

Yes!

Although, it was the last one. With the pencil taped on a string to the fridge, I wrote soda on the list stuck there with a magnet. I still might have to go pick some up but at least this way Mom would also get some the next time she went to the store.

Ding!

I opened the microwave and the smell of cheesy broccoli assaulted my senses. Using some scissors, I sliced the steam able packaging and dumped the contents onto a paper plate. Now, it was Netflix time. I didn’t bother going down to the basement. That room was hard to be in sometimes. I did watch tv there, but often, it was too quiet. Too lonely. Too devoid of Josh.

Of Dylan.

Okay, mostly Dylan.

Why couldn’t I get over my brother’s best friend? He’d made it clear he was done with me over two years ago. So, why couldn’t I forget him?

Argh.

Three episodes of Friends later, I threw in the towel. Shopping had worn me out, which I hated to admit. Part of it, I was sure, had something to do with the emotional upheaval of spilling my guts to Allie. I was still reeling. It wasn’t like I spent all my time thinking about Dylan. Or Marshall for that matter. My decisions to remain apart from some aspects of high school life had become such a habit, I didn’t even consider what prompted them anymore. There were times, though. Times I spent more effort than I should thinking about the past and it was always draining. Always left me spent.

A bath. That was just what the doctor ordered. Bubbles. Lavender. Music. Scrolling through my phone on my way back to my bedroom, I stopped on Ed Sheeran’s Perfect.

“I found a love, for me,” I sang the lyrics under my breath as I collected the essentials.

Robe. Check.

Towel. Check.

I swung around, scanning my room for the new bottle of body wash I’d gotten the other day. The one in the shower was practically empty. Where was-

My gaze snagged on the letter on the bed.

No.

I couldn’t be.

But the handwriting-

Breathe.

I had to force myself to inhale.

My towel and robe slid to the ground as I stood there trembling. Taking a step closer to the bed, I worked on breathing again.

Inhale.

Exhale.

The writing was plain now. And familiar. Achingly familiar.

I zeroed in on the name on the envelope.

Yup. It was for me.

I checked the return address. There was no name, but the address was JBLM, Washington. Joint Base Lewis-McChord.

My knees buckled as conflicting emotion tumbled through me.

Shock.

Hope.

Disbelief.

Longing.

Anger.

Picking up the envelope between thumb and forefinger, I held it up. A part of me wanted to tear into it. Curious what Dylan might have to say to me after more than two years of complete radio silence. I longed to see more of his chicken scratch scrawl. To read his words. To get answers to my questions about where things went wrong.

Then, there was another part. The part that wanted to toss it into a raging bonfire without even opening it. Without even giving it a second thought.

A war raged within me. Why? Why now? On the very day I purged my story to Allie, I got a letter from Dylan. What was next? A surprise visit from Marshall? That would be a perfect bookend to this emotional and exhausting day.

Shaking my head, I tossed the letter back onto my bed and collected my robe and towel again. I located the bottle of body wash under a pile of laundry and made my way into the bathroom. Without the letter.

A long soak was just what I needed.