Fall from Love

wall. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to push the memories out, but the last time I stood in this building comes rushing back to me... the last day Adam was alive.
    I was standing in the middle of the hall, talking to a girl from my study group, when strong, warm arms snaked around my waist. I didn’t even have to think about who it was; I would know those long, lean arms from anywhere.
    “Remember, don’t be late... eight p.m. and not a second later,” Adam whispered as he kissed my neck.
    “Holly,” a distant, yet familiar voice pulls me from my thoughts.
    When I open my eyes, I find myself staring into two large, sympathetic ones.
    “Hi, Becca.” I blink hard, trying to find my focus.
    “You okay?” she asks, reaching out for me, lightly touching my arm.
    I nod. “Yeah, I’m good.”
    “So, what’s your first class?” she asks, clearly trying to distract me.
    “I don’t even know.” I shake my head as I fumble around in my purse and pull out my schedule.
    She sighs. “I’ve got Dr. Langford. I hear he gives killer tests.”
    My eyes scan across the page and relief passes over me. “Looks like we’ll be miserable together, then.” I smile timidly. Having Becca near me right now can only help distract my mind from unhappy thoughts... or at least I hope she will.
    “Really? This is so awesome! It’s going to be so great. We have so much to catch up on. It’ll be just like old times.”
    I inhale deeply, trying to take in her fast talking, perky voice. J ust like old times . “Yeah, it will be great.”
    The first day of class isn’t too bad. Most of my professors seem really nice, except for Dr. Langford. Though I’m only in his presence for a couple of hours, his reputation for being a stickler on attendance and giving really hard tests precedes him. The most encouraging part of my day is that I’m able to avoid all the depressing questions I have feared and dreaded.
    I cut across the courtyard and make my way back to my car, eager to get home. When I pull out my phone, I see two missed calls and two text messages. Both missed calls are from my mom. I switch screens and see that one of the texts is from her as well.
    Mom: Call me, please. We haven’t talked in a while. Can’t believe you’re a senior in college! How did my baby grow up so quick?
    My heart aches and I tell myself not to let another day go by before I call her, but deep down, I know that I probably will. It has been difficult to talk to my mom lately. Every time I talk to her she has a pitied tone in her voice that reminds me of when I was sick as a child, or when I was in elementary school and had a bad day at school. It’s still difficult for my mom to get over the fact that I’m a twenty-one-year-old woman and not five-years-old anymore.
    My mom flew in and stayed with me for a week right after the accident. She begged me, I don’t know how many times, to come home and spend the summer in New York, saying that I needed to be around family at a time like this. For some reason, though, I wanted to stay home—my home in Colorado—my home with Jenna. Over the last few years, Jenna has become my best friend, my sister; she is family to me. Still, guilt fills me and I type a message back to my mom.
    Me: I’ll call you soon, promise .
    The other text is from Jenna and, the moment I read it, I’m unable to stop the grin from spreading across my face, loving how well she knows just what I need at this moment.
    Jenna: Dinner at the casa. We r celebrating our senior year with a couple bottles of wine!
    I exhale a long breath and text her back.
    Me: Sounds perfect. Do you want me to pick up something or are we ordering in?
    Neither one of us are great cooks, but we are both really good at ordering take out. Not a minute passes before my phone chimes again.
    Jenna: I’m cooking... and shut it. It will be better this time. You’ll eat it and you’ll love it, or you’ll lie and tell me u do.
    I laugh and slide the phone back into my purse. The heaviness that has occupied my chest over the last few months is still with me, but for the first time in a long time, it feels a little lighter. It feels like I am going to be okay—that everything is going to be okay.
     
    ❧
     
    After we’re done with dinner, we open a second bottle of wine. It has been a long time since we both have loosened up and had so much fun together; I’m only now realizing how much I miss it.
    “Seriously, Jenna, that was some amazing food,” I