I walk out of my dorm in my polka-dot pajamas and short-sleeved crushed watermelon T-shirt to get myself some food. Halfway to the Ratty, I realize I have made a pathetic decision. I pull my phone out and frantically text the group chat:
“oh my god the
wind is DIABOLICAL
can someone
anyone
near the ratty bring a jacket
with them please i’m
freezing!!!!!!!!!!”
***
I almost recognize the sprawling houses in Downtown Providence. I think I can fit the stars in the part of the sky that is directly above the Lindemann nicely in the right pocket of my jeans. I might even be able to say with 90 percent certainty that the place adjacent to the one that serves waffles is the second home that I never knew I’d need. Will you let me fold the walk from your dorm to mine into a paper plane and fly it across the Main Green?
I might dye my hair red to match yours, permanent so you’ll know you’re permanent for me. Stand next to each other, your back to me, as we look up at the stars, look up at the sky. Do you spot Orion, too? What if we try to make it to your freshman dorm via the alleyway, repeating the night’s occurrences in our fourth year? Will you still chase after that limited-edition Bad Romance vinyl?
I think about my high school life while I fall asleep. It feels like a fever dream, like it was yesterday and 10 years ago all at once. I’m still the same person, but I’m also someone completely new. Will you recognize me in December when we meet again? Will I recognize you?
We tilt our heads upwards and breathe out, fog spilling from our mouths. Semester one comes to an end in just about a month. And for a reason I cannot quite place my finger on, I feel a sting in my chest. Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was worrying about making friends?
I exchange glances with you, but I never end up breaking eye contact, even as they start to glisten with the faint shimmer of tears. Look me in the eyes and promise me we’ll make it. I say it twice. Each time, I say it to different people.
