Chapter 21
Miles
Sunday
“You what?!” I tried to hold back the laughter.
“I forgot my ID at that new surf school!” she shouted into her home phone, definitely clumsily tucked between her ear and her shoulder so she could have both hands free to organize everything inside her bag.
“How?” I asked, dragging the vowel, now laughing.
Through the muffled rustling, she explained, “Before going into the water, I left it as proof that I would bring the surfboard back to the school after surfing.”
“So, you stole the surfboard?” I mocked.
“No….” I heard her smile through the phone. “I brought the board back to them and simply didn’t return to the reception to get my ID!”
We couldn’t help but both laugh. There was this book Ella was reading about something called mindfulness, and there was this other thing she was born with called forgetfulness.
Later that day, when we met at the usual café, she told me about the episode from earlier, how a guy shouted, “That’s the girl!” in the middle of the street, and how she hadn’t even been planning to go to the new surf school. She had just happened to be passing by.
“Imagine how many more weeks would have to go by before I noticed I was walking around without my ID,” she wondered, and we laughed some more about it. About the whole situation and all the hypothetical scenarios we came up with, spun by her distracted mind.
We were spending a lot of time together.
There was no clear explanation for how well we got along.
Going for swims in the cold ocean, entering without thinking and defrosting afterward became my favorite ritual of ours, all of them photographed by Ella with the camera Miss Amara had lent her.
The CIC had become a place where I spent many hours of my week. But we would also frequently stop by Miss Amara’s house. I had started helping her with the gardening, and Ella would alternate between helping me or playing the piano.
We spent some time at Ella’s home too. Every now and then, I would stop by to help take care of her brothers when her mom wasn’t there.
And other times, her mom was home and invited me to stay for dinner.
She was a woman who would always add water to the beans to feed one more.
But I had never felt more part of a family than when Theodore hugged me warmly after a family board game in which we won as a team.
Ella had a lovely, loud, big family. I had met some cousins, aunts, and uncles who visited Evermere from time to time. I thought they were all a big part of her, and she was a part of them all.
Miss Nour approached our table carrying a wooden tray with two mugs on it. “Coffee and hot chocolate,” she said.
“Thank you so much!” Ella said, her eyes lighting up. She usually smiled widely at the little ordinary things. Like an excited kid.
Agony hit me. The agony of a possible future flashing before my eyes, a future away from Evermere, a future away from Ella. My brain whispered that it could become real in a few months. The agony intensified. It wasn’t a far-off reality anymore.
“What?” Ella asked, reading something in my eyes. “Why do you look so down all of a sudden?”
“I just…” I shrugged my shoulders, “I’ll miss this.”
She gave me a soft smile. “I know. Me too.” She wrapped her hands around the warm mug. “And this part of life…” she sighed, “all the decisions to make, the moving away from home… It’s exciting, stressful, overwhelming, all at the same time.”
I nodded in agreement. It was a mix of emotions all at once. A thousand bouncy balls bouncing nervously inside me.
Ella already knew she was leaving for Verryn University in September. She had worked hard for the path that was now unfolding for her. She deserved it.
I still hadn’t received any answers. And Ella didn’t know about any of the scholarships I’d applied to. There was still the possibility of me staying in Evermere, of no college accepting me.
What if that wasn’t such a bad turn of events? What if I wished for it?
The uncertainty in this universe of possibilities was starting to make me nervous.
“But hey,” she said, calling me back to the present reality. “This,” she moved a finger between us, “is a friendship that will not die from distance disease.” I let out a laugh. “And I’ll come home so many weekends. All it takes is a short train ride. About an hour or two.”
She would come to visit the family. Of course she would.
I just didn’t know if I would be here.
“Yeah,” I said, “just try to catch the right train, okay?”
She looked at me with her mad face for barely two seconds, and we burst out laughing.
“I forgot to tell you something!” she announced enthusiastically.
“There’s this festival on my future campus.
It happens every year. And you know that band Switcheroo you told me about?
They played there last year, and the year before.
Maybe they’ll be back next year or the year after!
We should go; you could meet me there! Consider this an early official invite. ”
“Sounds like a plan.” I smiled at her. “Early invite officially accepted.”