a story in parts. this is two.

the sun pouring in through the driver's side window was reminding Constance of her younger days. she used to sit in her brother's bedroom a foot or two from his window with the shades pulled up, watching the dust bunnies dance in the beams. her youth was quiet but nothing less than happy. there were moments of sadness, to be sure, but those were easily forgotten aside from the day Ethan left. she was 17 and it was a thursday morning. summertime in her house usually revolved around morning cartoons and the above ground pool they "inherited" when they moved in. shortly after the last cartoon her little brother wanted to watch was over there was a knock at the door. as she approached the door, through the thick bevelled glass she could make out the silhouette of her best friend and a grin crept onto her face. her steps turned a bit more bouncy and she opened the door. the next hour and half was full of tears and hugs as he told her he was going to be leaving and wasn't sure when or if he was coming back. it all made sense to her. he was drawn to the hurting and the less fortunate. he felt called to be where they are, hoping that he could be a source of Light for them. this was Ethan. it made sense. but in the selfish corner of her heart, this was exactly why she loved him so much. this was exactly why they were best friends. and she didn't want to lose that. she didn't want to lose him.

now ten years later, she's speeding down I-94 with her face drenched in the sunlight and her soul drenched in anxiety. she wondered what brought him back after ten years. she pictured the moment of pulling up to his parents house and seeing him on the swing, waiting, smiling. in one version, she screeches up to the house and leaps from her car, running to him and jumping into his arms with tears and hello's. in another, she pulls up slowly, takes her time walking to him, stops at his threshold and takes his hands in hers and just looks into his eyes with tears in hers and takes it in before wrapping her arms around his neck.

but then something hit her. she slammed on the brakes. what the hell was she doing? he hadn't called?! he hadn't written?! why would she just act like that didn't happen?! the car was now in park and she was pacing around it with her right hand holding the hair out of her eyes staring at the ground while her left hand was placed defiantly on her hip. what was she doing? she continued pacing and after what didn't feel long enough, she lit a cigarette and got back into the car. she filled her lungs with nicotine and the hope of calm. now the car was in drive and she was back on 94. she had come too far to go back now, but at this point, the movie in her head showed her car pulling into her parents house instead of his. then walking somberly inside to sit at the table with her mother, sipping on tea and deliberating on her next move. on the next scene. now all there was was that. that and driving with the sun as it set.