Page 13 of Like First Love, Again

Tori reached out and covered her hand. “One step at a time.” Her touch felt like a foundation forming over quicksand. “And you’re not alone.”

She squeezed Tori’s hand because she didn’t trust herself not to cry again if she expressed her gratitude with words.

“Come on, let’s feed you,” Tori said while she stood and led Mia out of the pool.

Relief flooded through her, quiet but steady. For the first time in forever, she didn’t feel like she was drowning. With Tori’s hand in hers, survival didn’t just feel possible. It felt real.

Seven

With Crossfade’s “Cold” thumping through her earbuds, Tori ran the shady trail in Morningside Park. As sunrise painted the sleepy sky a rich gold, she tried to connect with the playlist she hadn’t needed since college.

The blood rushed into her quads as she pushed hard, lungs burning with the effort. Brooding heartbreak didn’t have quite the same impact it once did. Not even when she was running with the reckless disregard of a kid loose in a playground. When the familiar angst of Thirty Seconds to Mars’ “Kill Me” didn’t revitalize the desire to drown all her useless feelings for Mia, Tori ran faster.

Moving ahead of her usual pace, she started her fifth mile covered in sweat and frustration. If she could just tap into the strength that had made her turn her feelings off once, she could do it again. She could kill her dormant crush before it roared to life again. But she couldn’t find the anger that had helped her once. And she’d been brimming with it when she’d started at UF.

Tori’s roommate had gotten her into running as soon as she arrived in Gainesville. Moss-covered trees and grassy hills made the central Florida college town feel like a world away fromMiami. A universe away from her past and everyone in it. She’d lost herself on the paths and emerged stronger and better. She just needed to do that again.

Tori’s wrist buzzed with a text alert. She glanced at the message from an unknown number.

I promise not to be an emotional drama queen every time we see each other. But I wanted to thank you for yesterday. I’d forgotten how easy you make it to be myself. Haven’t had that in forever. I can’t tell you how good it is to have my friend back.

Already at maximum capacity, Tori made herself empty every drop of energy in her tank. Like a generator burning the last of its reserves, a visceral grunt rattled in her strained chest, muscles screaming and head pounding from her out-of-rhythm breathing. The discomfort wasn’t enough to suppress the flutter in her stomach.

Mia:Just in case you have an entire sea of emotionally fragile friends… it’s Mia. Your number was on the card in the folder you left. YES I AM ACTUALLY FILLING OUT ALL THIS STUFF. Why is there so much? You sure you’re a realtor and not a lawyer?

A smile, tiny and obnoxious, tugged at one corner of Tori’s dry mouth. She remembered what Mia had been like when they were in school. She’d been a pathological procrastinator. Doing homework in the car on the way to school, staying up all night to study for tests.

Once, she’d spent a weekend forgoing sleep to put together a project that she’d been pretending to work on all semester. Pulling off the impossible, she’d aced the final with some complicated presentation about using orange peels to fight drought. Mia had gotten extra credit for the Florida-centric theme. There was no need for Mia to learn to stop waiting until the last possible minute. It never blew up in her face.

Tori had forgotten that about her. It was only when she hit the last stretch of her run that she realized her subconscious mind expected Mia to put off the paperwork. Especially because she didn’t seem particularly motivated to get her mother’s house ready for sale.

Mia:OMG look what I found.

Survival instinct told Tori to ignore the buzzing on her wrist. To focus on finishing her run and mentally prepare for the rest of her Friday. Normally, she’d have already visualized every step of her day, identifying issues before they manifested, but she hadn’t done it once yet.

Another message vibrated on her wrist and Tori couldn’t stop the chemical chain reaction it set off in her body. She couldn’t stop it, but she could ignore it.

Slowing to a jog, Tori waited for her heart rate to come down. For her body to cool. But even after she transitioned to walking, her stupid pulse was still hammering in her neck.

It didn’t matter what Mia had to say. There was no reason to check her messages like she was holding her freaking breath waiting for them. Reaching under her damp tank top, she snapped off the heart monitor strapped to her chest.

Proud of her restraint, she made it all the way to her Jeep without looking at her watch. It was only when she pulled her phone from her shorts’ pocket that her self-control dissolved.

Sitting in the driver’s seat with AC blasting in her flushed face, Tori’s traitorous heart lurched. The image was of a big, decoupaged box plastered with dozens of cutout pictures of her and Mia.

The image of buying two identical unfinished wooden boxes at the craft store assaulted Tori’s memory. Of sitting together, sifting through hundreds of photos, choosing which ones to print. Of taking over Tori’s dining table to spend a weekendcutting out pictures and arranging them into collages to glue onto the box.

When the second text came through, Tori’s smile curdled. Inside the box were hundreds of folded up squares of paper. Mostly white, but some random colors were mixed in. All the notes Tori had passed her throughout high school.

Closing her eyes, bile rose in the back of her throat. She remembered something else. The burning stench of Mia’s notes when she dumped them into a fire. Chest tight, she considered for the first time in nearly fifteen years whether she’d been a bit extreme in her detox. Regret clawed at her gut, but she told herself it had been the only way.

Mia:You don’t know how many times I tried to take this stuff with me to Philly. My mom was convinced I’d lose them somewhere so she never let them leave the house. Like yeah, Ma. I’m just going to lose a closet full of my best memories. OKAY.

Tori chuckled despite herself. It was easy to imagine that conversation like she’d been sitting at the kitchen counter with them.

Tori:You did lose your house keys twice. Your phone. Your wallet. I don’t know how many textbooks… AND MY VARSITY JACKET.

Mia’s response came immediately, as if she’d been waiting for Tori to text back.

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