Trifecta: Phantom

The last quarter moon illuminated our lightless dorm room just enough to distinguish the outline of the other on adjacent beds. We were both half-drunk and sitting “Indian” style with a box of Pizza World lying open on the floor between us. Billy Squier spinning on the turntable.

She exhaled slowly, almost sultry. I watched as smoke wafted illicitly from her lips making a quick and thankful exit out the cracked window. Her dark brown eyes were invisible in the shadows.

“Don’t worry. We aren’t going to get in trouble.” I recognized a patronizing eye roll in her tone of voice.

She always thought she needed to say it, to assure me, right before we did something bad. It wasn’t necessary as I was no stranger to misbehavior, hers or my own.

“You know they like me better, don’t you?”

She was talking about our friends on 4^th floor Hewitt and she was intentionally being hurtful. I knew it wasn’t true, so did she, but she'd learned a long time ago how to get under my skin and when to twist a knife. She also knew how to seduce me back. If I wanted to be.

I silently slid under the bedspread that matched hers. I didn’t say another word because I had been her best friend since freshman year in high school, and I didn’t want to tell her what I was thinking. The words were teetering on the exactly edge of my tongue. Waiting.

“You are a self-centered slut and everyone thinks so, too.”

But I didn’t say those words.

My eyes were still open in the almost blackness. Billy still sang. And she still smoked, lighting the next cigarette from the burning filter of the previous one. She casually popped her jaw in such a way that the smoke lifted off her lips in practiced, white rings. Eventually dissipating. Floating away like our phantom friendship.

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Using the third definition of the word:

PHANTOM (noun)

3   :  a representation of something abstract, ideal, or incorporeal 

BLUE and Missing You

33-333 words for:

BLUE: (adjective)

3. a: low in spirits: melancholy

    b: marked by low spirits: depressing<a blue funk> <things looked blue>

Something silly or stupid would happen almost every single day and I'd think of you. I'd pick up the phone to dial your number so I could laugh…with you… until our sides hurt like they always did. Knowing you would crack up, too, even while I struggled to get the words out because I was giggling so hard. Because you're silly just like me so you’d get it. 

I’d run into that certain acquaintance of ours, and quickly insert foot directly in mouth. So typical. You're the one I'd text because you always say, “That wasn’t so bad, really (slightly cringing inside). I’d give you a hug if I was with you.”

I’d see Like Crazy or Somewhere In Time or read a love story I knew we’d both like; and immediately, eyes still filled with tears, I’d think to shoot off an email and ask if you saw the same ones, read the same book. “What did you think? Did you love it, too? What are you reading now?” and know your reply would take no time at all.

I’d sit down to write you a letter like we used to love to do and do so often. Then check the mail basket the very next day in anticipation of your written reply even though it wouldn’t arrive for one week. The waiting would be excruciating but oh so, worth it. It would be the second best part after your words.

Sitting, something touching, whispering, anytime we were together.

I still want to do all these things, all the time. 

Then I’d remember. 

I can’t do any of these things because we don’t do any of them anymore. Sometimes I forget even why.

But I do know exactly why we don't do any of these things anymore and it breaks my heart all over again.

Today, when I wanted to tell you something, I remembered again that I couldn’t and all I felt was blue. I suppose I’m making some progress.

Trifecta Writing Challenge