Category: The Unwritten Pages.

I woke up the next morning with the most red sunburn I’ve gotten in years, and is probably the reason why I opted to not visit any local beaches when I was traveling this summer.

When I was in California, I went to the Santa Monica Pier for the day in hopes that I could distract myself from my own thoughts. It had only been three weeks since Cullen passed, and my phone was on ‘do not disturb’ for most of this trip. I just didn’t want to set into reality that I had to return back one last time.

The sunset over the ocean water was beautiful and calming. I sat on the boardwalk and people watched, wondering what was their reason for being here. Were they locals just spending a night out on a Wednesday? Were they on vacation for a special occasion? Honeymoon? Family reunion? A wedding? Were they running away from something inevitable like I was? Can they tell that was my reason?

By the time I got back to New York, I realized that my time in California was strictly because it was thousands of miles away from home; not North Carolina, but home.

I walked downstairs to see my mom and Mollie in the kitchen eating breakfast. Mollie had on her day camp attire on, which meant today was my day to take her to and from the place. My mom turned her head and greeted me with a smile.

“Peppie,” Mom began to say. “I tried waking you up earlier to eat, but you weren’t budging. I gave the rest to your cousin before Aunt Gabby took him to summer school.”

“Faith told me that Bradley sleeps while he’s in summer school,” Mollie said out loud. “But don’t tell Faith that I told you; she’ll kill me!” I smiled at my sister. Gosh, to be that age again where all you had to worry about was not getting caught doing something bad by your parents.

“You need me to take Mol to camp?” I asked my mom, grabbing a cookie from the cookie jar. She rolled her eyes at me, knowing she hated when I did so in front of my little sister.

My mom gave me an unsettling look. Mollie was the one to respond.

“Daddy is taking me to camp,” she answered, eating the last of her breakfast. I looked at my mom, not saying anything in words. It was better off that way in front of the children.

“Mollie Sue, why don’t you go upstairs and finish getting ready?” My mom said, smiling at my sister. She sighed loudly, getting out of her chair and walking toward the staircase.

“My first name is Mollie, not Mollie Sue! You don’t call Peppie ‘Jennifer Ann’,” Mollie debated as she walked up the stairs. She does have a point.

“So,” I began to say as I crossed my arms along my chest. “Dad is taking and picking her up from camp today, huh?”

“Don’t start with me Peppie,” Mom said as she picked up the plate from the kitchen table.

“I’m just saying; do you hate the girl?” I asked sarcastically. My mom was not amused.

“He wanted to see her—”

“You could’ve said no.”

“That’s his daughter,” Mom spat back.

“And? Me and Mars are also his daughters and you don’t see us having father-daughter days with him. Let him spend time with his other family.” I emphasized.

It was no secret that I didn’t have the greatest relationship with my father. The first time my parents separated I was just 4 years old; Mars had only been a few months old. At the time, my mom didn’t tell us where he went when he never came back, and she surely did not know what to say about it when they rekindled their love 12 years later. They remarried after my mom had Mollie; he was always there for my little sister as she was growing up. It wasn’t until early last year that my mom found out the reason he left the first time was because he had an affair with another woman, and had a whole other family with her too. It was my mom’s last straw, and my parents got divorced later that year. I wasn’t in New York when it officially happened, and a part of me still kicks myself for leaving when Mollie needed someone the most.

“You know Mollie is different,” Mom simply said, watching the plate in the sink. I knew Mollie was different; she’s always been different than me and Mars. In the same breath, I envied her for having a better relationship with our father than we did. Maybe I would’ve had some guidance for my life if I had a father-figure growing up.

“Well, I hope he doesn’t let her down the way he did with us,” I scoffed, walking away from the kitchen. All of a sudden, I felt like I needed some air. I felt like I was suffocating in this house, and I needed some sort of way out of it for some time.

Nicki was on strict bed rest awaiting the arrival of her and Danny’s first baby, so seeing them was out of the picture. I would go to Milo’s, but he probably is busy with his son—

My phone went off, and it was surprisingly a message from Milo: “I hope that sunburn didn’t keep you up last night.” I smiled at the message and immediately dialed his number; why the hell are you so giddy, Pep?

Milo instantly picked up the phone. “Did I wake you or something?” He answered.

“No, no; sadly I’ve been awake for some time. I thought I was going to have to take Mollie to her day camp, but my mom told me that her father is taking her for the day.” Her father.

Milo stayed quiet for a moment before responding. “So, you’re off the hook from your sister duties today, huh?” I was glad he didn’t correct me.

“Seems like it,” I sighed, walking into my room, which is still decorated the same way it was prior to leaving last year. “What’s on your agenda today?”

“Well, Milo’s grandparents have him for the day while I get my life together,” Milo began to say. “I’ve yet to go and buy his school supplies for school and should probably get that out of the way.”

“Just gather some pens around your house and put it in his book bag,” I joked, remembering the times I had to do that for school.

Milo laughed. “You know, that’s not a bad idea.” I smiled through the phone; a wave of calmness settled in me. “Since you’re not on sister duty today, would you like to come with me to run some errands? I feel like I need another adult around to keep me on track.”

“Run some errands; how exciting,” I sarcastically said before laughing. “God, we really are the new adults.”

“Is that a yes?” Milo asked, jumping the gun.

“You know where I live,” I answered back.

…

I used to dread the days where I would walk into a store during the summer and they already had back to school stuff out. Nowadays, it’s just a gentle reminder that the summer was coming to an end and that life had to restart for everyone and get serious again.

I walked down the aisles with Milo has he looked at a list, sighing every time he put it down.

“I cannot wait until Milo is out of elementary school,” he commented, grabbing a 2-pack supply of disinfectant wipes. Looking down at his basket, I realized it looked more like a house cleaning restock than a school supply one. “Why are the parents in charge of buying the teacher supplies as well?”

“That’s kind of harsh for someone who so happens to be a teacher,” I pointed out, looking at Milo. He rolled his eyes, grabbing a pack of tissues from the shelf.

“A high school teacher,” he emphasized. “I’d be happy if my students came to my class with a pencil with no eraser and a piece of loose leaf paper.” We continued to walk down the aisles, grabbing different supplies from the shelf to buy for his son. Occasionally, Milo would stop in the teacher aisle, grabbing some things for his classroom. It was cute seeing him get all excited for the upcoming school year with his new supplies.

Once all the supplies were purchased, Milo insisted that we go somewhere for lunch. I wasn’t feeling very hungry, but I guess he had worked up an appetite after all this shopping. We ended up at some sandwich shop; it was a place I’ve never been to. We walked inside the shop in which a man greeted Milo upon entering. It seems like Milo knows about this place.

“My friend!” The guy over the counter greeted Milo as we walked up. “School ends and you forget to come visit?”

“Hi, Pauly,” Milo said, seeming shy. “I haven’t had to come over here since my son was let out of school.” Pauly looked at me before looking back at Milo. Milo cleared his throat, looking at me now. “This is Jennifer.”

“Nice to meet you—”

“Beautiful, beautiful girlfriend,” Pauly commented, looking at Milo. I can feel my face getting hot.

“No, no,” Milo said, quickly laughing it off. “She’s my friend; childhood friend.” Pauly just nodded as he shook my hand. Something tells me he doesn’t believe that.

“What can I get for you two today?” Pauly finally asked.

“I’ll take my usual, and…” Milo looked over at me, waiting for me to say something.

“I’ll take the pastrami sandwich,” I said.

“Great choice from the lady,” Pauly said, writing the order on a note pad. “Give me about 10 minutes for both sandwiches.”

“Thank you, Pauly,” Milo said. He turned around and directed us to a table near the window facing out toward the street. He settled in his seat, placing the shopping bags underneath the table.

“It seems like you’re a regular here,” I said, starting up the conversation. Milo sighed before he spoke.

“It wasn’t all smiles and laughs,” he said, looking at me. “Last year, Milo wasn’t eating and this sandwich shop was the only place he felt comfortable eating at after school. It was on the way back home and far away from the elementary school so no one in his class saw him.”

“Oh,” I simply said, regretting that I even asked. “Sorry—”

“No need,” Milo shook his head and smiled. “He’s doing a lot better, and coming here after school became a pat of our routine.” I tightly smiled, not saying anything. I feel like an intruder being in a space that was known to be Milo and his son’s.

“It’s weird to see you socialize with other people,” I said to Milo. He raised an eyebrow as if he was confused. “You were never the person that went out of their way to do so.”

“I didn’t have to be when you were around being the life of the party,” Milo commented, taking a sip of his drink. I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my own drink. “Surely there are places you visited a lot when you lived in North Carolina.”

I scoffed before I said anything. “Yeah, I’m sure the medical assistants at the doctor’s office knew me on a first-name basis.” I could see Milo biting the inner part of his lip, which was what he used to do whenever he was embarrassed for saying or doing something wrong. “Sorry, that was mean—”

“No, no,” Milo said, trying to play it off. “I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Assumed what?”

“Not assumed, but—”

“I think we need to finally talk about it,” I finally said, getting straight to the point. Milo looked at me, but didn’t say a word back. “About my time in North Carolina.”

“Pep, you don’t have to if—”

“I didn’t do much when I lived there,” I began to explain, cutting Milo’s train of thought off. “I didn’t have time to really live there when I was there. Wherever I went it was with Cullen, and it wasn’t us going into town and finding local spots where the owners knew us. Half of that time was spent at doctor’s office for various check-ups and bloodwork being done, ad then we’d go back home where I’d cooked us dinner and we spent the rest of the night together. The only place I went without Cullen was my dance practices. Other than that, I didn’t really live there.”

Before Milo could say anything, Pauly came to our table and served us our sandwiches. “Thank you,” Milo said to Pauly.

Pauly smiled and then looked at me. “The pastrami is also fresh,” he said. I smiled as Pauly turned around, speaking to another worker behind the counter. I looked back at Milo, trying to read the expression on his face.

“I wasn’t the same girl you know me as when I was living there. I was… living in a shell of what I was.”

“It’s understandable,” Milo finally chimed in. “You were taking care of someone that required a lot of self-sacrifice. It’s easy to lose yourself in that process.” I looked at Milo as he spoke. He didn’t say much, but he never did when it came to serious conversations like this. It bothered me to an extent; sometimes I just want someone to bluntly say what they want to say without beating around the bush. But, it was Milo, and we always had this unspoken understanding of one another. Maybe that’s what made us such good friends in the first place.

I finally looked down and took a bite of my sandwich. I was surprised at just how good it was. Milo started laughing, noticing just how wide my eyes had gotten. Maybe I don’t say much either; he just knows what’s going on inside my mind or something.

It was the perfect weather for a beach day today, and I could tell Pep was excited too. We ended up buying some overpriced blanket on the boardwalk; Pep also decided to spontaneously buy a swimsuit while we were there too. That part of Pep never changed; being random and spontaneous and doing things the way she wanted to do them. In a sense, it was one of the things that made Pep who she was, and I guess me following along with her antics was something that never changed about me.

We find a place on the sand to lay the blanket down; not too close to the water, but just close enough to smell the salt water from the ocean.

“I’m gonna turn redder than a tomato out here,” Pep commented, putting her sunglasses on. “You just get more tan the longer you sit in the sun.”

“What can I say; I’m Filipino,” I smiled, watching Pep roll her eyes. I looked around the beach, noticing the different types of people on the beach today. There were families with young kids building sandcastles as their parents sat underneath their umbrella. There were teenagers throwing each other in the water, laughing and screaming as they did. There were your local beachgoers laying face down on their towels, deepening their already dark tan.

And then you had me and Pep, just two random adults that decided that we were going to go to the beach.

We finally got ourselves situated on the blanket, taking in the scenery.

“I haven’t been to the beach this entire summer,” Pep began the conversation.

“Really? I’m shocked,” I reacted, looking at her now.

“I didn’t live close enough to the water back in NC,” she explained, applying sunscreen on her arms. “Also, time flies by when you’re trying to get your shit together.”

“No lie there,” I said, looking out toward the water. I looked back at Pep, who was also looking out at the water. The slight breeze went through her hair, making her curls stick out in every possible direction. I remember when she used to hate wearing her hair curly.

She finally looked over at me. “What?”

“Nothing,” I begin to say, stretching out my legs. “I’m glad you’re able to get your beach time before the summer is over.”

“Personally, I’m not ready for the summer to be over,” Pep sighed as she said. “It’s like when it ends, life gets serious again.

“Now you sound like you’re a public school teacher,” I smiled as I teased her. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“At least you know what you’re doing when the end of the summer comes. I’m here just twiddling my thumbs, wondering what my next move is going to be.” I looked at Pep intently, trying so hard to read her mind. Her next move? Was her coming back to New York just a stop on her travels?

“Well, what do you want to do?” I asked. Pep looked at me without saying anything. “Like, what is something that you want to do when the summer ends? Whatever that is, do it—”

“I don’t know, Mi,” Pep spat back, now seeming annoyed at the conversation.

“Why don’t you finish school?” I suggested, hoping that I didn’t cross any boundaries with her already. We just got on good terms.

“I don’t know—”

“Why not? Nothing is holding you back now from finishing grad school—”

“Holding me back now?” Pep repeated back. I shouldn’t have said it that way.

I took a deep breath, thinking about the words before I said them out loud. “I mean, you’re back home now and have the time to finish what you started back in—”

“Just stop talking, please?” Pep responded back. I didn’t say anything back, nervous that I just ruined her one beach day of the summer. Pep sighed, holding her knees up against her chest with her arms.

“I just feel like I’m stuck in time while the world keeps going,” she said, looking out to the ocean again. “Cullen died in May, and I’m still feeling like it all happened yesterday. I looked at Pep as she spoke, understanding where she was coming from. I knew what it felt like to be stuck in time, watching the world go by without a care in the world about what you’re going through. Imagine being 16 years old with your newborn son, mourning the loss of your girlfriend and mother of your child while learning what it was to be a dad still in high school.

“I don’t want this to sound cliche, but it gets better,” I finally said, hoping pep believed my words. “Time passes, and you will too once you’re ready.” I observed Pep, digging her nails into her legs, watching the gears in her brain tirelessly turn. “Is that why you were traveling the whole summer?”

She looked at me and nodded her head. “It was the only way to distract myself from the grief I was feeling, and going back home didn’t feel right yet.”

“Do you regret coming back?” I immediately let my intrusive thoughts win and ask the question. “Did you—”

“There’s reasons why I came back that I don’t feel comfortable sharing with you,” she confessed. Ouch. To hear that coming from the person you’ve known your entire life stings just a bit. I nodded my head, respecting her boundaries in this moment.

I sighed, now looking out toward the ocean. “Well, I’m glad you’re back.” Pep quickly turned her head to look at me, which prompted me to look at her. “And I hope that we can rebuild our friendship again, before life got serious.” Pep smiled, shaking her head playfully. She sighed as she finally got up from the blanket, reaching out for my hand.

“Come on.”

“What?” I said, now confused. Pep grabbed my hand and lifted me up from the ground. I forgot just how strong she was. She smiled up at me once I was on my feet, looking down at her.

“We came to the beach to have fun, and not take life too seriously,” she said, running towards the ocean water.

“Pep—” Before I could go after her, she ran into the water, splashing everything in her view. She turned around, waving her hand to come closer to her.

“Come on, scaredy cat!” Pep teased, kicking water in my direction. I stepped back, not wanting to get my clothes wet.

“Pep, I’m not wearing a swimsuit,” I began to reason with her. “We still have to hop on the subway and get back home after this.”

“You’re just afraid of the water,” She teased, smirking. “It used to take me pushing you into the water to finally get in it.”

“Yeah, well I’m an adult now—” Before I can even finish my sentence, Pep ran towards me, using all of her strength to pull me into the water. Instead of just walking into the water, I fell knees first into it.

“Pep!” I shouted, brushing my wet hair away with hands. All she did was playfully laugh. “Oh, that’s funny to you?” I said as I immediately splash water back at her. Pep gasped, looking at me.

“My hair!”

“My hair,” I mimicked, watching Pep look at me with a dumbfounded look on her face. “Don’t take life too serious, Pep.” She stared at me a little longer before she went in for the kill. She dunked my head into the ocean water; I quickly shot back up as she began to run away from me.

“Practice what you preach, Milo!” Pep said as she laughed, running away as I chased her. It wasn’t long until I grabbed her by the waist, tackling her into the wet sand. I looked down at her as she laughed, waving an imaginary white flag and surrendered. I couldn’t help but just look at her. This has been the closest we’ve been to each other for years.

I couldn’t help but take in her beauty. Her freckles always stood out the most during the summer; the sun loved her. And her smile, god her smile. I looked down at her as she looked up at me.

“I, uhm—”

“Oh my god, there’s a wave coming!” Pep said, looking out towards the ocean.

“Oh fuck!’ I quickly get up from Pep, pulling her arm to help her get up as well. We both run away from the ocean as the incoming wave splashed the back of our bodies. Pep laughed, putting her drenched hair up in a tiny ponytail.

“That would’ve been disastrous,” she commented, wrapping herself in the towel she bought. I smiled tightly, playing along with her.

“Super disastrous,” I added on, squeezing the excess water from my locs. Saved by the wave, Milo.

…

“Pep?” I answered the door, seeing her stand at my front door with a drenched umbrella. I could feel the summer humidity from the hallway creeping into the apartment. “What are you—”

“Since you never want to tell me how you really feel in person, I decided to save you the backstabbing texting and have you tell me straight up how you feel,” she immediately spat out. I felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach.

“Pep, it’s 11:30 at night, and my son is asleep,” I scolded her, annoyed that she would show up, unannounced, ready to pick a fight. “And—”

“What? Don’t want your girlfriend to wake up to see who she chose to date?” Pep assumed. I scrunched my brow, feeling defensive now.

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about—”

“Just because you have commitment issues in your relationships doesn’t mean you can project them on mine with Cullen.”

“Commitment issues?”

“Yeah, you know the thing where you date all these different girls to fill the void that Gwen left behind when she died? That.” This wasn’t like Pep at all. Her eyes were dark and low; her pupils diluted.

“You’re drunk,” I concluded. “I don’t have time for this—”

“You’re jealous of Cullen and I. You’re jealous that I’m finally moving on with my life and getting married next year all while you’re stuck in your tiny apartment, wondering how the hell you’re gonna tell Marielle that you have to break up and make up some sob story that it isn’t her but you—”

“Yeah? You believe that?”

“I know it! That’s why you can’t stop talking shit about me with Danny, thinking you know me and Cullen’s relationship so well—” I grabbed Pep by the arm, pulling her into my apartment. I slammed the door behind her, pinning her against it. “Get the fuck off of me—”

“Let’s get a couple of things straight,” I began to say all in Pep’s face. “I don’t give a shit about your relationship with Cullen. As of matter of fact, I hope you soon realize that he’s marrying you not because he wants you to be his wife! He’s marrying you and taking you all the way to North Carolina so that you can tend to him every second of the day before he dies—” Before I could finish my sentence, Pep slaps me hard across the face.

I held my face, looking directly at Pep. She looks right back at me; I could see the tears form in her eyes, but her mouth beat her before she let out any type of sign she was hurt.

“You don’t love Marielle,” she simply spat back. “You never did. You never loved her, or Kennedy, or Diana. All you were trying to do was to see which one felt the most like Gwen! You didn’t want a girlfriend, you wanted someone for Milo to call mommy! Does Milo even know who his mother is? Has he even asked where the fuck she is?!”

“Fuck you, Pep!” I shouted, feeling the immense anger all in my body. It felt like I was talking to a shell of my best friend. It felt like I was talking to a complete stranger. This wasn’t the girl I called my best friend for 20 years; the one that helped me during the lowest point of my life when Milo was born and when Gwen passed away. The one that I told my deepest secrets to, the one I fought with out of love.

The one I’ve unconditionally loved through everything. She was gone. “Go home.”

“Fuck you, Milo. I can’t wait to get out of this fucking city and never have to fucking see your face ever again!” She turned around, twisting the doorknob to open the door. Without even looking back, she slammed the front door behind her. All I could do is stand there.

“Fuck!” I shot up from the couch, not realizing the TV was still on and that I fell asleep laying here. I looked around the apartment before catching my breath. I looked over at Milo’s bedroom door, which was closed.

I let out a deep sigh, getting up from the couch. I looked over to the front door of my apartment, remembering that night all too well.

Before entering my bed, I looked down at my phone for the time; it was 11:30 at night. I noticed a notification on the screen, seeing it was from Pep.

“Thanks for going to the beach with me today! It definitely felt like good times. <3” I smiled at the message, opting out to respond back to her due to the time. I placed my phone on the table next to my bed, turning the light off as I got into bed.

I don’t like to remember the morning I left New York for many reasons. The engagement ring on my finger was now more of a fidget toy, anxiously pacing back and forth from the hospital waiting room. A familiar woman’s voice calls out my name from the entrance of the doctor offices.

“Jennifer Ann Castro?” the woman said. I looked at the doctor, taking in a deep breath before entering the door. After a minor walk to her office, she closes the door behind us, telling me to make myself comfortable.

“Should I be concerned that you’re not here with your fiancé?” my Aunt Gabby questioned, putting on a pair of latex gloves on.

“He has his own thing going on.”

“I would’ve thought being with you would be more important than anything,” Gabby spat back. No one in my family knew about Cullen’s condition. As the months passed, I’ve began to keep his condition a secret to avoid all of the pity grief that comes with it. Plus, it was hard to have to juggle all of that with a person that was slowly dying.

Aunt Gabby typed away on her computer before she said anything back to me. “How’s the moving going?”

“Such a jump in topic,” I pointed out, laying back on the exam table, lifting up my shirt to expose my abdomen.

“Your mom has been pretty hush about it,” Aunt Gabby admitted, preparing the sonogram machine. The gel felt cold against my skin. “I know she has a lot going on right now, but–“

“She’s not happy that I’m moving,” I spat out, ripping the band-aid off. “But it’s what’s best for Cullen and I.”

“She just worries about you moving so far away from home,” she commented. Aunt Gabby was the eldest of four, and is the voice for all of her sisters. In a sense, I can relate; I feel like since Maryette’s been away at school, I’ve been the voice for my youngest sister, Mollie. Seeing your parents get a divorce only hurts the first time around.

“I know, but it’s best if Cullen stays close to his family,” I reassured myself more than my aunt at the point. I look at the screen, seeing nothing but emptiness in the scan. I know there wasn’t anything there, and it hurt me knowing that something may never get to be in there.

Aunt Gabby sighs before she spoke. “Well, everything looks good, nothing to be concerned with regarding implantation,” she spoke as she looked at the screen. “Typically those who are looking into IVF have issues with fertility, but you seem to be perfectly fine.”

I now sit up, looking at Aunt Gabby. “But what if the couple aren’t able to conceive for other medical reasons?” She looked at me, trying to figure out the motive behind my question. I figured she’d be more accepting of it considering it’s her profession.

“It depends on who has the medical issues,” she answered. I swallowed hard, not knowing where to go with this. Thankfully, a knock is heard on the door and one of the medical assistants open the door.

“Dr. Perkins, your 12:30 appointment is ready when you are.”

“Thanks, I’ll get her in a few,” Aunt Gabby answered with a smile before turning back around toward me. She handed me a couple of paper towels to rub the gel off of my stomach.

“Pep.” I looked up at my aunt whose expression seems to be more concerning than endearing. “I’ve known you all of your life; I know when you’re bottling things up inside and I also know that it’s not going to be good when it all overflows.”

I simply smiled at her. “I’m fine, Aunt Gabby.”

…

“Pep?” Mollie said, still half asleep on Milo’s bed. Milo’s in the other corner of the room, waking his son up as well.

“Hey,” I smiled as I said. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she answered, rubbing her eyes with her fists. I looked over at Milo and his son as he put on his glasses. The resemblance to Milo is uncanny.

“That’s good,” I said, helping her get out of the covers. “It was really nice of you to let Mollie sleep in your bed for the night.” Milo smiled as his son shyly hid his face behind his father. Also like Milo when he was a kid.

“I can bring Mollie back to your mom’s place if you’re busy today–“

“No no, it’s fine,” I protested, getting myself together. “You probably have tons to do today anyway.”

“I–“

“Can Milo come over to our house?” Mollie asked me.

“You guys just spent the whole day together yesterday–“

“Yeah but when this happened and we didn’t get to do all the fun stuff we planned!” I looked at Milo trying to keep his composure.

“Mol–“

“Milo can go if it’s okay with Lydia,” Milo intervened. I looked at him, not amused of his answer. “It will also allow me to get some of my errands done as well.”

“See! Milo said it was okay, please can Milo–“

“Okay, okay,” I said, throwing my arms up in defeat. “I’ll let mom know that Milo’s coming over.” Both the kids jumped up in a burst of energy, now getting themselves ready for the day.

…

“Milo’s happy that he gets this time to spend with Mollie,” Milo said as we sat outside at a table to a luncheon place. I sipped my glass of wine, appreciating the drink after what has been a couple of rough weeks being back in New York.

“They are truly best friends,” I added, smiling at Milo. “They remind me of us when we were their age.” Milo scoffed, leaning in his seat.

“Can’t lie, but Mollie has so many of your mannerisms that every time she came to hang out with Milo, it was… painful.” I scrunched my eyebrows, having this be the first time to hear Milo say that out loud.

“Painful?”

“Meaning it was hard to not think of you when Mollie was around,” he explained. “It was like looking at a snapshot of our lives when life was nothing but playing in the park all summer.” I remember those summers with Milo. He spent a lot of them with my family since his parents traveled a lot for business. Of course when we became teenagers and Milo was born, most of those days became just memories. I sometimes mourn that life before it changed. Before we changed.

I looked at Milo and saw the kid version; the one who was really shy and hid underneath a beanie, not saying a word to anyone besides his closest friends. The one that had an imagination like nobody else; the one who confined in me for every little thing growing up because he knew I would protect him. The one who showed up at my mom’s house with his son, just a couple of weeks old after Gwen died.

I smiled at him. He looked at me with a perplexed look.

“What?”

“Do you wish to ever go back?” I began to ask. “Back to being a kid?” Milo seemed confused about where this was even coming from. He cleared his throat before saying anything.

“I wouldn’t have Milo if I wished to be a kid again–“

“Not to change anything,” I pointed out, holding my hands out toward him. “Just to relive the moments when we didn’t have so much to think about.”

“Of course. If I could just go to the beach without having to watch Milo go in the water, or just build a sandcastle without interruptions, that would be great.” I smiled at Milo and immediately backed my chair away from the table. Milo looks up at me, clearly confused.

“Let’s go.”

“Go where?” He asked.

“To the beach,” I excitedly said, grabbing my things. Milo still seemed be confused since he still was sitting at the table.

“Today? Right now?” Milo questioned. I nodded my head and smiled. “Pep, we don’t even have swimsuits or anything with us to go to the beach—”

“So? We didn’t have anything as kids either. The only difference is we’re adults now and have free will to do whatever the fuck we want.” Milo kept looking at me, seeming uncertain about the spontaneity of the plans. “Don’t you want to have one day where you can just be you?”

“But—”

“No,” I sternly said, scrunching my eyebrows together. “We’ve lost so much time caught up in the bad things that we totally forgot what it was like to just be free.” The bus that runs through our neighborhood to the subway train had just passed us. We’re going to make up for long time, Milo. I grabbed Milo by the hand and dragged him out from his seat, running down the block.

“Pep, what are you—”

“The bus is just 3 minutes away from the next stop, let’s go!” I shouted, finally letting Milo’s hand go. I start laughing as I ran, enjoying myself for the first time in god knows how long. To my surprise, I look back and see Milo still running too, smiling and laughing as well.

“Oh my God, we’re not going to make it—”

“Yes we are! This isn’t new to us!” We both ran as fast as we could down the city blocks, just how we used to when we were younger. The wind went through my short, curly hair as Milo’s braids kept bouncing as he ran.

“Come on, Milo! Keep up!”

“I’m…trying to!” Milo said as he ran out of breath. I turned around to look at him quickly, flashing a smile. Who I saw running behind me was kid Milo, the Milo I haven’t seen since we were kids.

It was raining hard this particular summer night. I had just dropped off Milo at Mollie’s house, knowing the type of night I was going to have. Candlelit dinner, soft music, and a night just for Marielle and I. I got into the apartment, not prepared to see Marielle already sitting sat the kitchen table with her hands folded.

“Babe,” I said, placing the wet umbrella on the doormat. “I thought you were going to be out until later tonight–“

“It couldn’t wait,” she said, looking up at me. Her expression seemed worrisome, which made me feel uneasy myself.

“Uhm, sure,” I said, sitting in the seat across from her. “Is everything okay?” Marielle didn’t say anything back. “Marielle?”

“I have to tell you something,” she began putting together her words. “It’s… not easy to say–“

“You’re pregnant?” I asked, eyes widen in shock.

“No, no; not that,” Marielle waved off quickly. She sighed before she looked up at me. “I heard back from Oxford today.” I knew exactly where she was going with this.

“I’m sorry, babe.” I got up from my seat and sat next to Marielle, wrapping my arm around her. “I know how bad you wanted to get in, but maybe this is just a blessing in disguise. Maybe–“

“Milo,” Marielle shook her head as she called my name. “I got in.” In normal situations, we’d be jumping in joy as I pick her up and kiss her, congratulating her. Instead, we sat in silence; unable to celebrate.

“You’re declining the offer, right?” I asked. Marielle and I have been discussing our future plans considering she had applied for Oxford University for an intensive theater program. The program, in particular, was located at their London location; as in overseas and a thousand miles away from home.

Marielle scrunched her eyebrows. “I accepted it.”

“Marielle,” I said, unknowing what to do or say in this moment. “You didn’t bother discussing this with me before making that decision?”

“It’s my decision to make–“

“You’re in a relationship, Marielle; I’m not saying it’s not your decision, but you would think being in a serious, committed relationship, you’d think twice about making a decision like this.” I was annoyed at her, knowing that the root of our problems were about this program at Oxford. Marielle and I were at that stage in our relationship where I was looking towards marrying her. My future consisted of me raising my son with her by my side, calling her my wife and the mother of our future children. I envisioned this whole life for us, and hearing her choose otherwise after expressing my desire to build a future with her upset me.

“You know how I felt about this program,” she argued back. “You knew how much this program meant to me–“

“Apparently more than our relationship,” I scoffed, shaking my head. “Seriously Mari; if you knew getting accepted into this program was your endgame, then why string me along?”

“You’re being irrational,” Marielle spat out. “I could want both things, Milo. I want you and I want this program, but–“

“But what?”

“I–“

“What, Marielle?”

“I can’t let this opportunity slip through my fingers.” She looked up at me; her expression stoic and definite in her answer. She had played this scenario in her head numerous time before it became reality. She knew all along that she was going to accept the Oxford offer. “This could help me jumpstart my career in acting. Holder and I decided that–“

“Whoa, whoa,” I shut my eyes closed, feeling the fumes arise in me. “You spoke to Holder about this before your own boyfriend?”

“Holder got accepted into the program too; you’d know that he applied if you ever listened to me,” Marielle dug back, shaking her head in displeasure.

“Do you hear how ridiculous this sounds?! You’re running to London with your childhood best friend, who–sorry to say this– but has been secretly in love with you, instead of staying here with your boyfriend?”

“Not every friendship between a man and woman has a secret relationship agenda; Holder and I aren’t you and Jennifer.” I looked at Marielle, confused. It had been so long since I heard Jennifer’s name come across in conversation, especially after she had fled to North Carolina with her fiancée.

“What does this have anything to do with Pep?”

“Milo.” Marielle placed her hands together, trying to find the right words to say. “Things haven’t been the same with you since she left. I’m tired of feeling like I’m fighting with the ghost of another woman.”

“You’re putting this on me?“

“I’m not putting this on anyone but myself,” Marielle spat back. “I’m also not going to sit here and pretend that I don’t feel this way either.” Marielle looked at me with such an expression I never saw her have before. It was like she was mourning the loss of a life she thought she was going to have, versus the one she knew she wanted. “Things between us haven’t been the same since Jennifer left.”

I hate that she was right.

I slowly turned around to shut the ringtone of my phone off, not realizing that I was sleeping on the couch and not in my bed. I fell to the ground, wincing in pain. Fuckin’ hell, I’m too old to be sleeping on couches these days.

The door to my bedroom door open, and out ran Pep in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of my basketball shorts. She had something in her hands.

“Who’s there?!” she yelled out. I didn’t realize that it was still the middle of the night, and that it was a missed call from my mother who is currently traveling with my father in the Philippines for the summer.

“Pep, chill; it’s just me,” I said in a deep voice, still half asleep. “I was reaching for my phone and fell off the sofa.” Pep turned on the little lamp in the living room area as she walked toward me, helping me off from the ground. Pep rubbed her eyes, clearly half asleep herself. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“It’s fine,” she began to say, pulling her stray hairs away from her face. “I’m just glad no one’s trying to rob your place in the middle of the night.” I couldn’t help but smile at her comment; she always knew how to lighten up the mood in situations like this.

“You can still have the bed,” I insisted, sitting on the couch now. She sat in the love seat diagonal from me. “Pep—”

“I’m not tired anymore,” she answered. “You think I’d just go back to sleep after waking up in a panic?” I smiled, nodding my head in agreement.

“Let’s hang in my office; I don’t want us to wake the kids,” I suggested, pointing her to the small room to the side.

I opened the sliding door as Pep stared inside the office. She walked in, observing the tiny space.

“This is a cute space for an office,” she commented, sitting on the small lounge chair near my bookshelf. I closed the door behind us, walking into the office to turn on the floor lamp.

“It was advertised as a walk-in closet, but figured I needed an office more than a walk-in closet.” Pep looks in the bookshelf, scanning all of the books stacked on there. “I have to organize those better someday—”

“The Perks of Being a Wallflower,” Pep read the cover of the book. “Didn’t we read this in high school?”

“Yeah, I thought it was a pretty good book.” She skimmed through the pages before stopping at the very last page.

“Waverly High School of the Performing Arts,” she said as she turned the book with the page facing me. “You never gave it back?” I felt uneasy, forgetting that I even had the book on my shelf. Seeing it made me remember why I did in the first place.

“I did,” I started to say, looking at Pep. “That was Gwen’s copy of the book.” I didn’t like to bring Gwen up in conversation, especially since this upcoming March will make it 10 years since she passed. It was always a sensitive topic for me, and even when Pep and I were closer, we never spoke about Gwen.

Pep quickly closed the book, seeming embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I—”

“She never got to finish it,” I began to say out loud, as if Pep asked in the first place. “I gave Waverly all of her textbooks, but I couldn’t get myself to return that one.”

“Did you ever finish reading it yourself?”

“No,” I answered. “I ended up failing English for that marking period.” Pep and I sat in silence, not really knowing what else to talk about in the witching hours of the night. Thankfully, Pep broke the silence with a sigh.

“I get it. It’s hard to let go of something that once belonged to someone that passed.” I looked at Pep, now looking into space while deep in her thoughts. She came back once she blinked. “Cullen was an Archie Comics guy. He always had a few on his nightstand; he wasn’t a ‘TV in the bedroom’ type of guy.” She smiled at me with a sullen look. “There are the only things I kept when I left North Carolina.” I looked at Pep as she spoke, processing all of the different memories and emotions of her past. I didn’t realize that both Pep and I share a common experience that has altered us as people. Losing Gwen changed my entire life. I’m still trying to get back to the person I was before she passed. I can only imagine Pep was now left to do the same thing.

“Does it ever get easier?” She asked, looking at me.

“Does what get easier?”

“The loss,” Pep answered, fidgeting with her hands. “The… mourning and grief part.” I wasn’t expecting her to ask me that.

“There’s always going to be a part of you that will mourn… but, it gets easier to manage with time.” I looked at Pep and smiled. “Be gentle with yourself.”

“Thanks,” she said, getting comfortable in her seat. Something about Pep was different since she came back to New York. She seemed wiser, more mature, but not the Pep I grew up with. She seemed to had lost her spark; who knows how much she endured when she was in North Carolina. I can sympathize with her, knowing how it feels to lose something you thought you’d have for the rest of your life.

Danny and Nicki found me in my apartment the day after Pep left for North Carolina. They had used the emergency key to come into my apartment, visibly worried for me.

“Milo,” Nicki said once she saw me sitting on my living room floor with a half drunken bottle of wine. “Where’s Milo?”

“At a friend’s house,” I said, staring into space. She didn’t bother asking what friend it was; she already knew where Milo was. She took the bottle away from me, getting up to place it on the table.

“Where’s Marielle?” Danny asked. Nicki shook her head at Danny, but it was already too late. I turned my head slowly, looking at Nicki and Danny standing there.

“She fled to London,” I nonchalantly answered. “We broke up—”

“Milo, why didn’t you say anything?” Nicki scolded as she helped me off the ground, getting me on the couch. “When did this happen—”

“It doesn’t even matter anymore,” I brushed off, getting annoyed. “I fucking lost my best friend.”

“I know how you felt about Marielle—” Danny added.

I shook my head. “Not Marielle,” I responded back. “Pep.”

They must’ve repainted the playground within the last year; I don’t remember the park looking like this when I was last here with Mollie. I only remember that last day because it was the day my mom needed to go to court to finalize paperwork for the divorce with our dad. Mollie feels like a completely different kid since then, and I can only hope that it’s not for the worst.

Milo and Mollie run towards the playground, excited to play for the afternoon. Sometimes I wish I could have days like this again.

“You’re okay, Pep?” I hear Milo ask me. I turned my head and quickly nodded, sort of like a reflex.

“Yeah,” I finally said, looking out at the kids. “Sometimes I wish I can go back to being a kid again. No cares in the world besides playing with your friends.”

“Yeah, but even as kids we were worrying about kid things,” Milo began to say. “At least we manage our problems better.”

“Do we really?” I joked around, smiling at Milo. He immediately doesn’t answer, which was no surprise to me. Some things about a person will never change, even with time passed. I sighed, changing the subject. “So, Nicki texted me last night about coming to Brooklyn for a visit sometime next week.”

“Yeah, Danny texted me too,” Milo looked at me, smirking. “Do we tell them that we’re on good terms now?”

“Is that what you think they’re coming down here for?” I asked, slightly laughing at Milo’s ridiculous, yet somewhat realistic assumption.

“How many times has Nicki only texted you about making plans? Because Danny does that shit to me,” Milo emphasized. I couldn’t help but laugh; they both were pretty bad at keeping things secret.

“Never in a million years did I think Milo Kamalani’s bestie would be Danny Campbell,” I teased. Milo did not want anything to do with Danny when Nicki and I introduced him to the friend group. For the first year of Nicki and Danny dating, Milo purposely avoided him but in the long run became friends; nearly best friends.

Milo laughed out loud. “I’ve grown and became more wiser.” I rolled my eyes, predicting how Milo was going to respond. I looked back out to the kids, noticing Mollie showing Milo a ballet move near the monkey bars. “Do you train Mollie in dance?”

I turned my head. “Train?”

“Are you her dance teacher now that you’re back in New York?” he asked.

“Mollie dances at an academy,” I began to explain. “I also dance at that academy, the adult division though.”

“That’s cute; two sisters dancing at the same academy,” Milo commented. I looked over t him and rolled my eyes as he laughed. “But seriously, why not try to become an instructor at the academy?”

I shrugged my shoulders before I answered. “I don’t want to work under someone calling all the shots.”

“But you’d be teaching dance,” Milo debated.

“Yeah, teaching dances that are approved from the head choreographer,” I said, leaning back on the bench. When I was in North Carolina, I had gotten the rude awakening from my own instructor, Clementine, about the reality of most adult dancers still in the industry. She mentioned that in this world, you’re either a person doing the dancing, or teaching the dancing; and teaching only meant obeying the creative vision that the owner of the academy had. I wanted more for myself, especially after this past year when all I was doing was wanting more for another person. “I want to teach my own choreo to my own dancers.”

“Is that why you’re studying business in grad school?” Milo questioned. I was surprised that he was able to out two-and-two together. I simply nodded my head as my response. I guess the revelation was bigger for Milo than I expected as he scoffed in his seat.

“I didn’t expect that from you,” he commented.

“Expect what?” I asked, seeming a bit harsh in the way I asked.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” Milo started to defend. “I mean that it was something you never brought up before.” I waved my head, trying to ease some of the tension he was feeling.

“That’s because it was something I didn’t realize I wanted until I did.” Before I could get any further in the conversation, I hear Mollie scream at the playground, immediately grabbing Milo and I’s attention.

“Mollie?” I quickly got up and ran towards the playground. Milo followed right behind me. Mollie was laying near the swings, holding her left knee toward her torso. Milo was sitting next to her extremely anxious.

“I was swinging her and she wanted me to push her harder and when I did push her harder, I- i-”

“Milo, it’s okay,” I began telling the young boy, smiling at him to reassure him. “It’s not your fault.” He doesn’t say anything back, he just looks at Mollie and her massive bruise on her knee.

“Let’s take her back to my place to bandage it up,” Milo suggested. I nodded my head, looking back to Mollie. “Are you able to stand on your leg?” I try to get Mollie up by her arms, but she immediately winces in pain.

“Fuck,” she slips out.

“Mollie,” I scolded, slightly embarrassed for her language. Milo doesn’t seem phased by it. He kneels down next to Mollie, looking at her.

“I can carry you back to the house if you can’t stand on your leg,” he offered, looking at me for confirmation.

“Please,” Mollie cried out, holding out her arms for help. She puts her arms around his neck as Milo politely picked her up.

“She’s not too heavy or anything for you, right?” I asked, worried about Milo’s back giving out. Milo adjusts until Mollie is sitting comfortably in his arms.

“She’s fine, Pep,” he answered, beginning to walk towards the exit of the park. Before I was able to leave the swing area, I noticed Milo’s son was not following him. I turned around and see him standing near the swing Mollie was on.

“Milo?”

“I didn’t mean to push her so hard on the swing,” he pleaded, visibly upset.

“Hey,” I said as I walked to him, kneeling on the ground to get on his level. “Mollie is going to be fine. She just got bruised up on her leg, but she will be okay.”

“What if she hates me now? What if he doesn’t want to be my best friend anymore?”

“She doesn’t hate you,” I reassured him. “And she definitely doesn’t want to stop being your best friend.” Milo slightly smiled, feeling some sort of relief. “Come on; let’s go meet up with your dad and Mollie.” I get up and reached out for Milo’s hand. He placed his small hand in mine as we started to walk out of the swing area together, looking down at Milo wipe the last of his tears off of his cheek.

…

By the time we got back to Milo’s apartment and cleaned Mollie’s bruise, both kids were exhausted. Milo and Mollie fell asleep in his room while watching a movie in a pile of throw blankets and pillows making a tent. Milo closed his son’s bedroom door, walking back to the kitchen area where I was sitting.

“I’m sorry about what happened at the park with Mollie,” he began to apologize, sitting down in the seat across from me at the table. “I’ll talk to Milo about it tomorrow–“

“It’s okay; really,” I sternly said. “They’re kids–“

“Yeah, but Milo shouldn’t have been swinging her so hard. She’s a girl–“

“Kids don’t see the difference,” I emphasized. “Besides, Mollie is a Castro girl; we were born with tough skin.” Milo shook his head, smiling at my response.

“I just want him to know that he has to be more gentle when playing with girls,” he explained, sighing afterwards. “Milo had a rough school year. It was the first year that him and Mollie weren’t in the same class, and the bullying got out of control. He pushed one of the bullies; a girl. He was suspended for a week and a half despite the fact this girl had been bullying him all year.”

“That’s bullshit,” I said, shaking my head. It made sense why he blamed himself for Mollie’s accident. “And the girl didn’t get in trouble?”

“A warning,” Milo answered. “But because Milo physically hit the girl, he got in trouble. He was really shaken up about it, and thankfully we were able to take him out of that class toward the end of the school year.”

“I’m sorry to hear that happened,” I sympathized. “He was really upset about Mollie though. He was afraid she wouldn’t be friends with him anymore and nearly broke my heart hearing that.” Milo doesn’t respond, but the lack of one makes me think that possibly Milo lost a lot of his friends in that class, or what he thought were his friends. “But I told him that Mollie wouldn’t end their friendship over something like this.”

“You’re really good with him, y’know that?” Milo randomly commented. It took me off-guard.

“Not my first rodeo handling kids.”

“It took Milo months to get comfortable with Marielle,” he confessed. I was surprised on how honest he was being. “That’s partially my fault though.”

“Your fault?”

“I feel like I’ve introduced Milo to a lot of women in his life,” Milo began to explain. He sighed, playing with his glass on the table. “It’s a lot for a kid, y’know?”

“I mean,” I began to say, recalling my own memories growing up and watching my mom bring home a new guy every couple of months. In some sense, there was this relief I felt whenever my mom broke up with them; it was a brief moment where she felt like my mom, and not someone in her early 20’s with two kids, recently divorced from their dad. I looked directly at Milo. “Yeah, it can be.”

“But he doesn’t seem to be nervous around you. Maybe he remembers who you are,” Milo suggested. Milo’s son was 9 years old, and in those 9 years I’ve spent a lot of time with both Milo and his son. I couldn’t imagine Milo not remembering who I was; then again, who knows what was said or what was done in the year that we stopped talking. I don’t answer him back; I simply smile and let out a deep breath.

“Being in that park earlier brought back so many memories,” I said as I smiled tightly. “Like what do you mean I’m not 8 years old swinging on the tire swing?”

Milo cocked his head back, laughing out loud. “The tire swing has been gone for years.”

“Still,” I responded. “That tire swing was one of the best things about the park, besides the sprinklers during the summer.”

“Remember that time you threw the biggest water balloon over my head, and my mom was pissed because I had gotten my hair professionally done for our summer vacation that year?”

“Oh my god, yes!” I reacted. I remember kid Milo panicking, chasing me around the park because he was so upset at me. When did life get so serious?

“I’m glad the park is still here, even though so much of it has changed,” Milo reflected. I nodded my head, agreeing with him.

“Besides the memories.” Milo looks at me with a tight smile. I didn’t realize just how much of my memories had Milo in them. I knew that we’ve known each other for 20 years now, but in the year I was away, I never truly thought about my memories here in New York. Being back after so long has open the floodgates of memories, and it’s surprising how many involve Milo. I sighed, stretching in my seat. “I should get going though before it gets too late–“

“You’re more than welcome to crash here for the night,” Milo suggested. I looked at him, not knowing how to respond to that. “I can sleep on the couch and you take the bed.”

“You don’t need to do all of that,” I said, shaking my head. “I can take the sofa.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Milo–“

“Pep.” Milo said my name in a way a father would call his kid. “You’re taking the bed.”

“Okay, dad,” I teased, lightening the mood a bit. His tough, dad demeanor instantly vanished and laughed at my joke.

“I’ll get you a change of clothes,” Milo said as he got up from his seat, walking towards his bedroom. Never in a million years did I think I’d be sleeping over my best friend’s place like we’re kids again.

The summer was coming to an end and the last thing I wanted to do on the last days of summer break was work on lesson plans for the school year ahead. It was crazy to think that I’ve been working at Waverly High for the last 4 years; the class I started out with are now going to be seniors, getting ready to venture out into the real world.

I walked into the make-shift office I made for myself and sit at my desk. I let out a deep sigh, looking at the shelf of books next to the various picture frames on it. I immediately notice the one with Marielle and I. It was back when I visited her family in Seattle and we made the plan to go to the Space Needle.

I took the picture frame and shoved it into one of the filing cabinets in my office, too lazy to replace the photo with another one. I didn’t even have a photo to replace it with.

The doorbell rings, and I immediately go and answer it.

“Hey,” I greeted, seeing Pep standing there with Mollie. Pep smiled, and Mollie immediately entered the apartment once she saw Milo come to the front door. As usual, both kids run off to Milo’s room.

“Thanks for looking out for Mollie,” Pep began to say. “My mom just threw this at me without knowing my own schedule later today.”

“You know I don’t mind,” I answered, putting my hand in my pocket. “Especially Milo.” She smiled, followed by a deep breath. “Are you in a rush, or…?”

“Oh, uhm,” Pep nervously answered, trying to find the right words to say. I don’t say anything else; I opened the door wider, inviting her in. She looked at me, hesitant. “Thanks.” She walked into my apartment, looking around the small common area.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I said, picking up a pile of papers from the kitchen table. “I was going to start working on lesson plans, but who wants to think about back to school already.” Pep laughed, taking a seat at the table.

“Wasn’t ready for school as a kid, definitely not ready for school as a teacher,” Pep teased. I laughed, nodding my head agreeing with her. “You have a cozy place here.”

“Better than my parent’s basement apartment,” I mentioned, grabbing two cans of soda from the fridge, handing one over to Pep. She smiles as she takes it, noticing the can was a Dr. Pepper soda.

“You just got this apartment?”

“I’ve been here for almost a year,” I began to answer. I sat across from Pep, engaging in conversation. “September will make it a year. Milo’s getting bigger, and I felt like he needed a space of his own, clearly.” I pointed towards the closed bedroom door. I’m just glad I can trust Milo and Mollie behind a closed, bedroom door at their age.

“You’re lucky that you found something; my luck has been running thin since getting back to New York.” She huffs, leaning back on her chair with her arms crossed. “Kinda crazy to believe that I’d be the one living back at home nowadays.”

“Life has a funny way of showing you the things you want, but giving you the things that you need,” I commented. Pep nodded her head, taking a sip from her soda.

“Yeah, I need an apartment on a dancer’s salary,” she joked. “That’s nearly impossible.”

“It can’t be as bad as being on a teacher’s salary,” I joked around. She laughed, knowing that I was right. “Also, I was…lucky to get the opportunity to live here–“

“Your ex-girlfriend got you the place?”

“No,” I quickly defended myself. “It’s a 2-income apartment.”

Pep scrunched her eyebrows together. “Don’t you live here by yourself?”

“I work part-time on some nights,” I confessed. No one knew that I was working two jobs to make ends meet, and I wanted Milo to have the best childhood possible while he was still a kid. I refused to put my adult problems on him. Pep seemed surprised, but ultimately nodded her head.

“What do you do?”

“I work nights at a gym. Typical workout fanatics and marathon trainers usually come in during that time, so it’s pretty chill.”

“Milo working at a gym? Who even are you,” Pep teased. “You couldn’t even keep up doing the PACER test in high school–“

“Listen, I was a scrawny teenage boy in high school–“

“Even Connor ran faster than you, and he went on to Princeton for electrical engineering–“

“I know, Pep; I was in the same gym class as you were,” I spat back as she laughed. Some things truly never change about a person. “Anyway, it’s just an extra income needed to stay here.” I left it at that. I felt like it was inappropriate to talk about Marielle after everything that’s happened. Also, it wasn’t any of Pep’s business to know the grit of the situation. We just got on good terms.

“I get it. I was in the middle of getting my masters in business, all while working at the local academy in North Carolina, and now I’m going to have to take a gap year off to start my life over again.” I didn’t realize she went back to school. Pep and school were never compatible.

“A gap year?” I repeated. “I would’ve thought living back at home would’ve cut the cost of living by a lot compared to when you were living in NC.”

“The house was already paid for,” she mentioned. “The estate was in Cullen’s family name, so all we had to do was just keep the lights on in that place.”

“You didn’t have to work?” I asked. She shook her head.

“I danced, I studied, and I took care of Cullen.” I was annoyed that Pep minimized herself to fit a picture that someone else created for her. The Pep I grew up knowing would’ve fought like hell to get her independence. “Needless to say, I’m practically starting my life over. Finally.”

“Finally?”

“I did some traveling around the country. I rebelled,” Pep recalled. “It was like I was running on zero sleep, Red Bull, and adrenaline until I felt like I had no more left in me.”

“So you lived your crazy years in a span of a few months?” I asked.

“Crazy, as in psychotic, manic, and unpredictable as fuck; then yes,” she said, and not in a jokingly way.

“So you coming back to New York was because you needed to reset?” I asked. All I wanted was to get an image of what Pep’s life was like in the time we weren’t talking. It made me feel horrible knowing that this all was happening while I was sitting here, angry at her for everything that wasn’t her fault.

She nodded her head, followed with a sigh. “Trying to. It’s hard, carrying that–”

“Dad!” a kid’s voice yelled out. Both Milo and Mollie walk out of his bedroom door.

“-ish around,” Pep finished saying. “What’s up, guys?”

“Can we go to the park?” Milo asked me.

“The park?”

“Please! We want to go and play at the park!” Milo pressed his hands together, begging me to say yes. I looked over at Pep, watching the interaction.

“I mean, if Pep says it’s okay for Mollie to go,” I looked at Pep, putting the decision on her.

“Please Peppie!” Mollie begged. Peppie. Gosh, I haven’t heard that nickname in so long.

“Fine, fine; but don’t go crazy and twist your ankle or anything; you have a dance recital in a couple of weeks.” The two kids jump in excitement and run back to Milo’s room. I remember the days Pep and I would excitingly run back to my room whenever my family agreed to go outside to play.

“I guess we’re going to the park,” I confirmed. Pep smiled, getting her stuff and getting up from the table.

“Don’t you have errands to run and that’s why you dropped Mollie off in the first place?” I asked.

“No, I said I had a schedule, I never said they were errands.” I laughed, calling the kids out to get ready to leave the apartment.

It felt great walking into my mom’s apartment and feel the cool air from the air conditioner hit my face when opening the front door. My once tamed, curly bob is now up in a sweaty, tangled bun with strands too small falling out from the back. I placed my bag on the rack behind the door, letting out a deep breath.

“Mom, I’m home,” I shouted into the empty house. I walked into the kitchen and to my surprise, she wasn’t there. She didn’t tell me she was going to be out today. I grabbed a water from the fridge before I heard someone coming down the stairs. Not to my surprise, it’s Mars; my younger sister.

“Hey, Peppie,” Mars greeted, walking to he fridge to most likely find something to eat. Mars, short for Maryette, is currently home for the summer, and just wrapped up her junior year of college. Whenever she comes back home, she constantly is looking for something to eat. She closes the fridge after taking out a popsicle from the freezer. “I wasn’t expecting you to be home so soon.”

“Why; is Dennis secretly upstairs in your room?” I teased, sitting at the kitchen table. Mars rolled her eyes, sitting on the countertop across the table. “You know Mom doesn’t like when you sit on the counter like that.”

“Good thing she’s not home,” Mars commented, eating the popsicle. “She’s out with her boyfriend. You’ve met Alex, right?”

“I have… when he was with mom at the airport picking me up,” I added, remembering that odd introduction to my mother’s love life. Apparently, she was busy while I was in North Carolina last year. “Is Mollie upstairs?”

“Aunt Katie took her for the day to go to the beach with Jonah and them.” I nodded my head, looking around the small kitchen. “I thought you were hanging out with Milo today.”

“I was.”

“This is the quickest that you’ve come back home; do all people become old and boring once they get old?” Mars commented.

“I’m 25; not 45,” I began to say. “Plus, Milo and I aren’t… as close as we were. You weren’t home when we got into that huge fight.”

Mars’ eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

“Milo and I just started to talk when I came back here. For a year, we were no contact. We said some pretty fucked up shit about each other’s relationships and… yeah.”

“Yeah no; mom told me that much, I’m just surprised that you guys wouldn’t have spent more time with each other.” I looked at Mars, knowing exactly what she was trying to insinuate. “I heard he’s single–“

“Mars,” I reacted, holding the bridge of my nose. “How would you even know that?”

“I’m caught up on more drama than you think I am,” Mars began to explain. “Plus, there’s been days I had to come and pick Mollie up from Milo’s place and saw no trace of his stuck-up girlfriend there.” Mars was your typical little sister; she annoyed the hell out of you like a little sister, and tried to protect you like you’re the little sister. Needless to say, she didn’t like Marielle, Milo’s ex, that much when they were dating.

“Milo and I are just friends,” I said, drinking what was left in my water bottle. I walked to throw it out, passing Mars on the countertop. “We can’t master the art of being “off-and-on” the way you and Dennis are.”

“What can I say? I enjoy my independence–“

“Yet you’re always a baby whenever he’s around,” I teased. It was weird for me to talk about relationship stuff with Mars only because her idea of a relationship in her 20s is very different than what mine was. Dennis will probably be the man that Mars ends up marrying, that’s if she ever gets out of that young mindset and notices just how fast time is going. In the same breath, we all thought I was going to end up married with Cullen in NC, but I guess god has other plans for the Castro women.

“Enough about me and Dennis; when are you going to get out there and date again?” I turned around to face Mars, utterly surprised at her.

“Mars, I just got back to New York. There’s so much I want to do that doesn’t involve random dating–“

“Like what? Your clock is ticking, Peppie.” Mars implied. “You’ll be 30 in like, 5 years. You do not have the time you think you have left.” I was done talking to Mars and began to walk towards the stairs toward my room. Mars followed behind me. “I’m just saying Pep, when are you going to finally admit to yourself that you’ve been in love with Milo all this time?”

I stopped at the middle of the stairs, shutting my eyes shut before I turned around.

“I don’t know where you got that ridiculous assumption from.”

“I got it from you; remember your drunken escapade you were on when you came to visit me in Chicago at my college?” Mars reminded me. I surprisingly remember that night, going to all of the local bars full of college students thinking I could party the sadness away.

“Peppie?” Mars answered the door of her college apartment. “The hell are you doing in Chicago?”

“Baby sis!” I said out loud, hugging Mars tightly. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re in college!” I slurred my words as Mars guided me to her sofa. Dennis was across the room from me, in which I waved hi to.

“Where’s Cullen?” Mars asked. I looked at her, not realizing that no one, not even my own family, knew of Cullen’s passing. The smile on my face vanished, feeling the tears form on my face.

“He’s not here,” I answered, not realizing Mars took that in another direction. “I’m doing some traveling and thought I’d come see you.” I could see the confusion on her face, looking at Dennis for some help with this situation.

…

“Dennis ran out to get some things to sober you up,” Mars said, handing me a glass of ice water and a bag of Skittles. “He swears Pedialyte will do the job, but he clearly never heard of the Mars Method to sobering up.” I just let her ramble, not adding a word to the conversation. She looked at me with concerned eyes. “What’s going on, Peppie?”

“Nothing,” I quickly dismissed, looking down at my phone. “Just thought I could hang with the young college kids.” I hoped the joke would trigger something in Mars to make some sort of clapback, easing the tension in the room. She doesn’t.

“Mom said you haven’t called her in months. That’s not like you; to just fall off the face of the earth and not let your family and friends know—”

“Cullen died two months ago.” I finally said out loud. “His illness got to him and… yeah.” I finally looked at Mars with teary eyes. “After his funeral, I packed my things and I’ve been traveling ever since.”

“Oh my god,” She began to say. “Peppie, I’m so sorry. What didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“It was bound to happen,” I said, feeling numb. “He was getting sicker as the weeks went and mom was going through the divorce with dad, and with Mollie in the middle of all of this I just didn’t want to add on to the worries.”

“Your fiancé, aka the man you were going to marry, passed away. That’s a huge fucking deal—”

“It was more complicated than what it looks like,” I interrupted Mars, replaying the last moments I remember with Cullen. Despite looking like the perfect couple, we were far from it.

“Does Milo know?”

“Milo?” His name felt foreign in my mouth.

“He has to know you’re here—” Mars went and reached for her phone, presumably to dial Milo’s number. I snatched the phone away from her, which leaves Mars confused. “What are you—”

“Milo doesn’t know,” I spat out, putting her phone on the coffee table. “We aren’t friends anymore.” I scoffed, thinking about the last moments I had with Milo. “Selfish son of a—”

“What?! Peppie, what the hell is going on?” Mars demanded answers. At that point, the alcohol was deep in my system, and I was growing angrier at the situation regarding Milo.

“Fuck him,” I spat out. “He chose someone else besides me again. He placed someone else above me, again. I’m so sick of feeling like shit–“

“That his girlfriend though,” Mars mentioned. “Just how you would put Cullen above everything else–“

“I wouldn’t if I didn’t have to!” I spat out.

“What are you even talking about–“

“I miss him,” I finally broke down. I heaved in my little sister’s shoulder. She rubbed little circles on my back, trying to calm me down.

“I know you miss Cullen–“

“No,” I began to say through tears. “I miss Milo.”

…

It felt horrible having to have my little sister take care of me because I couldn’t. “I told you I was going to keep your secret, but I still have permission to bring it up every single time you try to fight this thing you have with Milo.”

“It’s one sided and it’s not a ‘thing’,” I debated back. “Milo and I just got back being on good terms. We’re pretending we don’t know a thing about each other.”

“Peppie…” Mars deadpanned, not convinced at all. “You can’t just pretend 20 years of your friendship with Milo never happened.”

“I can, and we are,” I concluded the discussion, leaving Mars to roam in her own delusional thoughts. I closed the door of my temporary bedroom; the room that my mom left as it was when I left a year ago. It was more of a time capsule of what my life was like before everything spiraled out of control. I was merely sleeping in someone else’s room for the time being.

I thought my life was going to be different. I thought I was going to break this eldest daughter cycle; the one where I finally live for myself and not for the people I loved. How do I even do that? I lived for a person I loved for a year and got nothing out of it besides heartbreak.

I walked to my old desk, one covered in various dance metals and photos on my bulletin board. I noticed I left the one of Cullen and I from New Years Eve; the night he proposed to me.

I immediately took it down, shoving it in the same drawer I shoved all of my memories in, including the ones I have of Milo and I.

Pep sat in the same booth we used to sit in when we were teenagers. She always preferred to sit with her back against the wall, facing the front door of the pizza parlor. She looked up once she saw me walk toward the table, sitting across from her.

“Thanks for meeting me here,” Pep said, folding her hands together on top of the table. This was the closest I’ve seen Pep since she’s been back in New York. I was able to see every single freckle speckled along her face. I can’t believe I almost forgot the minor details.

“Of course,” I simply answered, looking directly into her eyes. She shifted in her seat and cleared her throat, looking uncomfortable at first. I made the initiative to start the conversation. “About that drive–“

“It was stupid… the way that I acted,” Pep began to say, folding her arms along her chest. “It was–“

“I know,” I said, smiling at her. “Some things never change about a person.” I was shocked to see Pep smile after I said that, followed with a cathartic sigh.

“Milo’s gotten so tall,” Pep mentioned, shaking her head in disbelief. “He was just a baby.”

“You’re telling me,” I scoffed, smiling as I readjusted in my seat. “Now he’s a whole third grader. Do you know they give kids actual homework over the summer now? They expect them to have their multiplication tables memorized like the back of their hand.”

“Yeah, my mom mentioned it to me one day when I had to watch Mollie for a weekend. I told Mollie she could memorize them later, so I took her out for ice cream.” I laughed at Pep’s story. Some things truly never change about a person. Pep looked back at me before she continued speaking. “I feel like I owe that to her.”

“Owe what?”

“Time,” she answered, seeming a bit down now. “Leaving her behind in the middle of my parents’ messy divorce.” I nod my head, understanding where Pep was coming from. There were nights Lydia told me to look after Mollie when things got intense. I didn’t know much about their parents’ divorce, but I could tell that it was affecting Mollie more than she was leading on. It took Milo to tell me that Mollie was struggling for me to finally say something to Lydia. It seems like that’s when things finally quiet down. Their father had finally left, and the divorce was finalized before the year ended.

“You’re here now,” I reassured her without thinking twice. It was like it was second nature to be reassuring with Pep; it was like it was the only thing I knew what to do when it came to her.

“Thanks,” she simply said before letting out a sigh of relief. “You’re still teaching at Waverly?” I nodded my head.

“My fourth year,” I answered back. “My first class are now seniors, definitely ages a person.” Pep giggled, taking a sip from her cola before cleating her throat.

“Has much changed since we were there?”

“So much,” I began to say. “A lot has changed in the past year, yet alone–“

“7 years.” I looked at Pep at she finished my sentence. Some things never change, but others change in a blink of an eye. She smiled before sighing. “You don’t have to tip-toe around me.”

I was confused. “Tip-toe around?”

“About Cullen,” she bluntly said. I can’t lie; the last thing I wanted to talk about was Cullen; not because of his relationship with Pep, but simply the fact that I didn’t know how to talk about a man that was part of the catalyst of our friendship tarnishing, yet alone a man that isn’t alive anymore.

“I’m… sorry. For your loss,” I awkwardly said, shaking my head in distaste from the way it came out. “I know that’s probably the last thing you want. More condolenses.”

“You’re right,” Pep jokingly answered. “But, it’s appreciated.” She looked out of the window, sighing as she was in deep thought. “Today would’ve been our wedding date.” Oh. I didn’t know how to respond to that, or if Pep meant to say it loud enough for me to hear it. She looked at me afterwards and shook her head, as if the was trying to shake the thought away.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For everything I said about your relationship with Marielle. If she’s the one you plan to marry in the future, it’s best if–“

“Wait, hold on.” I was super caught-off guard. “Marielle and I aren’t together anymore.” Pep’s eyebrows cocked up, as if she was genuinely shocked. Did she truly not know?

“Oh,” Pep shook her head with her lips pressed together tightly. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine,” I began to say, sighing afterwards. “She had gotten an offer at Oxford that she didn’t want to miss out on. Her and Holder.” I swallowed hard, remembering the insecure version of myself that stood in our once shared apartment, accusing Marielle of cheating on me with Holder; her best friend from childhood. The same way she accused me of cheating on her with Pep; my best friend from childhood.

Pep’s eyes widen, taking in this newfound information. She nods her head okay, and says nothing else. I tightly smiled, shaking the intensity of this conversation out with my hands.

“But, that’s in the past,” I began to say, looking at her directly in the eyes. “And we have no control over what happened.” Pep looked back at me, deciphering the meaning behind my words. This wasn’t anything new with her; she’s done this for as long as I’ve known her. Sometimes, she misinterpreted them; other times she was right.

This time she was right in doing so.

Pep leaned back in her seat as she let out a deep breath. She smiled and put our her hand to me for a handshake. I was confused, and I was now the one trying to figure out what she was doing.

“Hi,” she began to say. “My name is Jennifer.”

“Huh?”

“But you can call me Pep.”

“Pep, what are you–“

“The only way we could move past this last year is to talk like we never knew each other. It doesn’t mean our past and our friendship are meaningless, but… let’s start over. Get to know each other all over again.” I looked at Pep, nervous about this random idea she came up with. That was also something Pep does, and the safest thing to do was follow along and to see things through. I put my hand out to her, shaking it politely.

“Hi,” I said as I smiled. “I’m Milo.”

I didn’t look back once I walked up the stairs to my house. I could only hear Milo sighing and slamming his car door shut. I hate the fact that he has to come into the house to pick up his son; it just makes the whole situation even more awkward.

I opened the front door, holding it open for Milo. I hoped that in entering the house, no one was hanging out in the living room to see me and Milo walk in with each other. It was bad enough that my mother had this misconception that I “came back for a certain reason”; that reason being to rekindle my long-lived friendship with Milo.

Of course, things don’t work out in the way I want them to, and everyone is in the living room when Milo and I come in.

My mom is on the couch, looking with her big eyes in my direction. My younger sister, Mars, is standing next to her boyfriend Dennis, while my youngest sister Mollie and Milo’s son Milo are sitting in the corner at a table. Oh. My. God.

“Peppie!” My mom greeted me before greeting Milo. “I wasn’t expecting you to be back tonight.”

“Nicki had a last minute appointment tomorrow morning.” I wanted to leave it at just that and not have to explain that Milo insisted to drive me back to Brooklyn, but of course Milo had to chime in somehow.

“I figured we were both going to the same place, so I gave her a ride home,” Milo added. I could feel the internal eye roll happen as he spoke.

“That was really nice of you, Milo,” my mom praised him as if he was doing her a favor of some sort. I looked over at the table where his son and my sister were sitting, watching the two kids get up from their seats. Milo’s son packs his things in a bag before putting it on, and walked in our direction.

It was surreal to see just how much Milo has grown since the last time I saw him. His hair was much more curly, and he was much taller than what I remember. God, I remember when he was just a baby. He walked to his father and Milo tussles his hair. The gesture was sweet.

“You’re ready to go, bud?” Milo kneed to his son’s height, smiling as he spoke. He nodded his head shyly, hiding behind Milo’s leg as he stood back up. “We’re gonna get going; thanks for watching Milo for me tonight, Lydia.”

“You know Milo is always welcomed here; you both are like family,” my mom smiled at Milo and his son.

The comment made my stomach turn, not because it bothered me, but because there was some truth behind it. My family housed Milo and his son when we were teenagers, two weeks after his girlfriend gave birth and tragically passed away after battling cancer. No one in my family knew that Milo had this secret life; one where he became a teen dad a day before his 16th birthday.

“Peppie, can you answer that? I’m feeding the baby,” my mother shouted from the other room. I rolled my eyes, getting up from the sofa while watching the new episode of some trashy VH1 dating show. I opened the front door and to my surprise it was Milo.

“Milo?” Milo stood there with a singular suitcase in one hand, a baby seat in the other. Milo’s face is pale and puffy. He looked defeated. Lost. Unable to speak even. I looked down at the baby sleeping soundly in the carrier.

“Who is it?” Mom shouted out loud. I didn’t know what to say. I froze in place, hoping that what I thought happened didn’t. The more time passes by, the more I realize it is. “Peppie?” I turned around and see Mom walking into the living room, in plain sight of the front door. She’s holding my baby sister, walking toward the front door. She immediately looked down and stood in place.

“Mom,” I began to say, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Whose baby is that?” she simply asked in an almost hushed tone. Before I was able to answer my mother, Milo spoke for the first time.

“This is my son, Milo.” I looked at Milo’s face as he spoke, sullen and absolutely crushing. He was spiraling down, and I needed to do something about it.

“Can Milo stay with us?” I asked quickly, not letting anyone direct the conversation. My mom looked so confused, as if seeing a 16-year-old boy call a baby his son wasn’t confusing enough.

But I knew why Milo was here with a suitcase and his son, and I know why his first thought was to come to me for help; because we were somewhat like family, and my mom knew that he was.

The front door shut behind Milo and his son. I turned around to see my mother smirking.

“So,” she began to say, amused. “Milo drove you home tonight, huh?”

“Mom,” I said, sighing at the thought.

“I’m just saying, destiny put you and Milo together in the same vicinity again.” My mom looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Maybe it’s trying to tell you something.”

“Yeah; that I need to get my license so I can drive myself to places,” I said, walking toward the kitchen. My mom and I’s relationship got stronger in the time I was away from home. I felt like she was finally seeing me as an adult rather than just her daughter. This was one of those moments that she was balancing them both.

“You and Milo have been best friends since you were kids. You guys fight over everything and still made up.”

“What’s your point?” I asked, knowing my mom was sugarcoating the real conversation. The smile faded from Mom’s face, knowing her tactics from when I was a kid will not work on her 25 year old daughter.

“You just don’t drop someone that has always been like family,” she spat back, now in a more non-bullshit tone. “Plus, your sister is best friends with Milo’s son.”

“That has nothing to do with me,” I said nonchalantly, grabbing the bowl of fruit from the fridge. Mom swipes it away, grabbing my full attention. “Mom?”

“Pep. I know you so well. I know Milo just as well, and I know there’s been times in the past when… friendship crossed its boundaries into different territory–“

“Milo literally told me that Cullen was only going to marry me to be his caregiver, Mom! This was more than just a simple argument.”

“They’re all never simple when it comes with Milo.” I hated how right my mom was when it came to Milo. If there was any adult in my life that knew how deep my friendship with Milo was, it would be her. Still, it bothered me when she would remind me just how complicated our friendship was.

“Mom, this time is different. Things were said that shouldn’t have been said, and–“

“That never stopped you from being friends before.” I gave my mother this certain look, one that she knows it’s the face of uncertainty. Younger Pep would’ve been super angry at Milo, not talk to him for a couple of periods in the day, and then somehow meet up for pizza at the shop to talk things through. Even though I am older now, I feel like I am letting my younger self down by not trying to work things out with Milo. What if he doesn’t want to work things out? What if he’s still with Marielle and that’s why he’s acting the way he’s acting. I mean, I’m not being any better if I’m also holding on to the–

“Peppie?”

“Huh?” I snapped out of my spiraling thoughts, now focused on my mom. She sighed as she walked by, patting my shoulder along the way.

“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but you can’t expect new tricks to make sense if you don’t know your old dog.” My mother spoke in ridiculous riddles in times like these; I’d like to believe she grew up watching too much 90’s family sitcoms or something. But, in a sense, I know what she was talking about.

I couldn’t sleep that following night. I stared up at the ceiling fan, spinning endlessly in its loop. One year and six months. One year and six months since Milo actually spoke to each other, and for one year and six months, my life was completely different. For one year and six months, I lived a life that I thought I wanted. One away from my family, away from New York, away from Milo.

How did we even get here? Did it have to take Cullen’s passing for me to realize I was living someone else’s life? Did it have to take me leaving everything behind in North Carolina for me to realize that New York was always supposed to be home? Did it take everything that happened in this past year and six months to realize that I was running from everything from my own life.

…

I nervously bounce my leg as I sat at the pizza booth; the same one I sat at when I was younger. The pizza shop didn’t change one bit since last being in here. It’s busier these days, as they aways were during the summertime. Every time the bell of the door rang I turned my head, looking at who entered the shop. You’re acting manic, Pep. I sighed, shutting my eyes for a slight second to ease the never ending thoughts.

“Pep?”

I looked up, seeing Milo stand there.

The house didn’t feel like home, even when Cullen was still here. It didn’t even feel like an empty house; it was just vacant space that I do not belong in.

I had left New York in 2016 mainly because Cullen needed to be closer to his family. Cullen was my fiancée, a man that I met back in college. He was an artist, and had a vivid imagination as he painted. He was passionate, and it took me falling in love with him to learn of his chronic disease. He was the man I was engaged to, with our wedding to come in just three months before he passed. He was a good man, so much that I never felt like a good woman. I felt like a caregiver living only for his life. A part of him knew that eventually that’s all that he saw in me.

I remember leaving every piece of furniture, appliance, and silverware behind, only taking the most important things to me. I returned every piece of dance clothing to Clementine, my dance instructor here in North Carolina. In the time I spent there, she was the one person that I was able to talk to and trust. She knew everything that happened between me and Cullen. She was the one that understood the pain I was going through when he passed away. She was also the one that encouraged me to come back home, reminding me that was always something waiting for me when I did. It’s been weird to go from living in a huge house to an apartment at my mother’s house, but at least I was able to come back to love and support during a time I thought I had lost it all.

Danny and Nicki were the people that had met me at the airport, welcoming me with open arms. I don’t think I’ve ever saw Nicki cry as much as she did when she saw me that day.

“Nic,” I said, trying to hold back the tears. She pulled herself out of the hug, giving me a good look before she said anything.

“I’m sorry, I’m just still in shock that you’re actually standing in front of me.” I smiled, looking down at her tiny belly. “You’ve obviously missed a lot.”

“I sure did,” I teased, smiling as I looked at both of my friends. “Thank you for picking me up today; my mom doesn’t even know I’m back in New York.”

“She doesn’t?” Danny intervened. I shook my head, which surprised them both.

“So, you’re just going to show up to your mom’s house like it’s nothing?”

“Yep.” Both Danny and Nicki stopped in their tracks, looking at me with this peculiar look on their face. “What?”

“Are you going to tell Milo?” Nicki asked. I haven’t physically heard Milo’s name in almost a year, so hearing it now sounds foreign to my ears.

“Why would I tell him?”

“Pep,” Nicki sighed as she said. “You do realize that we are also friends with Milo, right?”

“And what does that have to do with me?” I asked, crossing my arms along my chest.

“We also know Milo is still close with your family. His son is still really close to your sister.” I wasn’t surprised to hear that Milo’s son was still good friends with my youngest sister, Mollie; it was the fact that he was still so close to them, as if he was unofficially declared a member of our family or something.

“What Milo chooses to do with his son has nothing to do with me,” I dismissed, walking away from the couple toward the parking lot exit.

“Pep,” I hear Danny call out. I don’t turn around until I hear Nicki yelling my name now.

“Pep, are you serious?”

“Did you forget how Milo and I even stopped being friends?” I spat out, turning around to face the couple. “He said horrible things about my relationship with Cullen–“

“After you said horrible things about his relationship with Marielle,” Nicki spat back.

“Are you serious taking his side right now?”

“Pep,” Nicki said, crossing her arms along her chest. “We are not in high school anymore. We are too grown to be taking sides. I love you both, but Danny and I have more important things going on in our lives than to pick sides on something that was equally both of your fault.” I knew Nicki was right. I remember that day like it was yesterday. Sure, Milo and I have gotten into heated arguments before, but this one felt different. This one felt tiresome, and deep rooting all the way back to the beginning of our friendship. Friendship.

I sighed, keeping my stoic composure. “To answer your question; no, I am not telling Milo I’m back in New York.”

…

“Yes, we’ll be there tomorrow morning; thank you so much for reaching out to us,” I heard Nicki say in the other room over the phone. Danny, Milo, and I sat at their kitchen table awkwardly. No one said a word, and Danny knew better and not have us engage in conversation without Nicki’s supervision. Nicki walked back into the kitchen after her phone call, sitting next to Danny before letting out a deep breath. “Sorry that we have to cut this night short, but our OBGYN has an opening for us tomorrow that we can’t miss.”

“Is everything okay?” I asked, worried something was wrong with their baby.

“Everything’s fine, it’s just that this pregnancy has been high-risk for me, and they want to make sure that everything is going along alright.” I knew that Nicki’s pregnancy wasn’t easy for her since the moment she told she they were expecting. Knowing how hard they both have been trying to conceive since getting married, they moved extremely cautious to make sure everything was alright this time.

“Take it easy, Nic,” Milo said, getting up from his chair. “I should get going anyway; I have to pick up Milo to get him ready for school tomorrow.”

“What time is your appointment?” I asked Nicki.

“8 in the morning.” Fuck. I was supposed to be staying the night at Nicki’s and have them drive me back to Brooklyn in the morning for my dance class. I guess that suggestion is out the window.

“I’ll start getting ready to head on back to Brooklyn—”

“How? You don’t drive.” I looked at Nicki, not amused that she called me out.

“There’s something I discovered long ago called public transportation,” I said sarcastically. It made Danny snicker before Nicki gave him the evil eye.

“You’re not taking the train at this hour, Pep.” I turned around and heard Milo speak to me for the first time in over a year. “I’ll take you back to Brooklyn.”

“Why would I do that?” I spat back, crossing my arms.

“We’re both heading in the same direction.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“I’m not offering the ride, I’m telling you that I will drive you back to Brooklyn.”

“Pep, just take the fucking ride,” Nicki intervened, sighing as she stood in between Milo and I. “You’re not going to get a train at this hour anyway—”

“Fine, I’ll just walk back to Brooklyn,” I said, grabbing my things from the side table in the front hallway. I felt someone grab my shoulder and forced me to turn back around; it was Nicki, and she was visibly furious.

“Pep, I don’t give a shit about your past with Milo; I care more about your wellbeing and if I’m telling you to take the ride back to Brooklyn with Milo, I’m telling you to take the fucking ride back to Brooklyn with Milo.” She grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, which surprises both the guys in the hallway with us. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” I quickly answered. She let go of my collar, and stared directly at me. “Seems like you got the disciplinary mom part down packed.”

“Thank you,” Nicki said as she smiled. Pregnant Nicki would eat 1st grade bully Nicki for breakfast.

…

Milo and I didn’t talk much on the ride back to the city. I sat in the passenger’s seat as he drove, the radio playing music on low volume. I did not expect that one of the first things I would do while being back in New York was to be in the same car was Milo, let alone have him drive me home.

At a red light, Milo grabs his phone from the dashboard and starts texting someone. I looked at him, rolling my eyes as he’s probably texting his girlfriend or something.

“You’re gonna get a ticket,” I said out loud, not looking at Milo.

“We’re at a red light—”

“But the car is still on,” I finally turned around to look at Milo. His hair was longer than I remembered. Last year, he wasn’t even able to tie it up in a ponytail to get it out of his face. Now, his hair sits comfortably in one, hanging down his back. He also barely had any facial hair the last time I saw him too; now, he has something going on with his face.

Milo put his phone down and continued to drive, not adding anything to the conversation. I turned my head to face the window, wishing for this ride back to Brooklyn could go by faster.

“Are you back at your mom’s place?” Milo asked.

I turned around, annoyed now. “What makes you think I’m living at my mom’s house?”

“Pep, I’m just asking a ques–“

“Do not call me that,” I emphasized, pointing my finger at him. At another red light, Milo turns his head to face me again to speak.

“Do you think I want to be in this car with you, driving in heavy traffic back to Brooklyn after everything we went through?”

“Fine.” I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the passenger door, walking out onto the sidewalk.

“Pep–“

“Go!”

“Are you fucking crazy?! I’m not leaving you on the side of the road at 12:30 in the morning!”

“No! I’m walking home from here!” Milo stopped the car and got out of the driver’s side, now facing in my direction.

“Pep, I swear to God if you don’t get back into this car, I will personally put you back in it myself!” I stared at Milo, knowing that he didn’t really mean it. But, this is a version of Milo that I haven’t known for the last year and a half. I sighed and walked back to the car, entering it without saying a word.

The rest of the ride was quiet; we both didn’t even bother saying a word to each other. Growing up, you couldn’t get us to shut up on car rides. My mom used to take Milo and me to the amusement park as kids during the summer. We would talk about anything and everything that crossed our minds. It stings to sit here with Milo with nothing to say.

We finally got back to my mom’s house, and Milo parked the car in front of it. We just sat there for a moment before he sighed.

“Do you want to go in first?” he asked. I didn’t say anything else, I just got out of the car, never looking back at Milo. Pretending he doesn’t exist in my world anymore.