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I don’t get to see Calen so much but, when I do, it’s always painful. We went out for a time once, when we were both young and stupid and no one really loved anybody and no one ever fell in love for real, but they were good times. Now, we just see each other growing up and slowly become adults. Where images don’t suffice, we call each other, eat fries together, and chat about stuff. But I started to like him some years ago in the hot summer nights we spent drinking with friends on the beach because he had grown. His body was beautiful then, only as a man’s body can look beautiful to a girl, but it’s his voice I can’t forget. It’s cool, dark and deep as the sea, and if he speaks, my mind won’t hear anything else. Something draws me into his voice, and I close my eyes, listening to pure sounds, and looking like a dope. One day, I’ll never be able to remember that voice, but I know I’ll think about it, and I’ll know it’s there. That voice is powerful and it is the ocean waves.

In late August last year, I saw him grow into a different man. He was obsessed and excited about something, and I asked him What. He told me that he was joining a research expedition up North to study God knows what dumb organism as an assistant to some professor he got friendly with last school year. He said he would be away for just the first term of school and he asked me if I was interested, he’d ask for me and see if he could get me in, too, seeing that we’re both studying microbiology and all that crap. I told him, no, cause my parents are too protective of me, and he said I needed to follow my own path, I’m an adult now. We both are, he said. But, whatever he says, I’ll just smile and wish him all the luck in the world, because he doesn’t know I study microbio only because I don’t know what else to do. I’ll just follow him, I thought. Whatever he does, he is always right.

So, I saw him again today. I knew he came back in January because I got the email he sent to everyone, but I just didn’t call him. He didn’t call me, either. We’re both adults now, I guess, so we’ll just live like nothing ever happens. He was in line in front of me at 60 Roast, holding a girl who was as thin and pale as a wafer, ugly makeup. He orders a tall something, she orders a tall iced. He doesn’t see me, and they’re kissing at the counter while everyone else starts looking away. Their stuff comes and they take it and leave, waddling out with arms around each other’s waists, other hands balancing cheap cups. I’m still fucking staring at him and the guy still doesn’t even notice me. I can’t yell, can’t scream, if I say something I’ll choke, so I had to leave the line. Fuck it pissed me off cause I’d already been lining up for like half an hour for more shit coffee that I need to drink only so I can stay awake in class and not fall asleep and start dreaming. Or I’ll wake up like during yesterday’s lecture with my heart beating so fast because I thought the whiteboard pen that stupid Dr. James dropped was a gun that just went off and made me so scared of dying alone. But it’s just what he said before. We all want to choose our own life now.

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