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★★★
She hadn't left my mind since the moment she left, and the sight of her number on my phone had me in a trance, questioning whether I should reach out to her despite her leaving only twenty minutes ago..
But who was really keeping track of time at this moment? Not me, that's for sure.
Certainly not me.
All I know was that the impact of seeing Deja again hit me like a ton of bricks, as I remember, I became so obsessed with Deja that just the thought of her would fill me with excitement and nervousness, causing my stomach to churn with anticipation.
I couldn't contain my emotions, so I confided in a close friend about my intense feelings. To my surprise, he jokingly mentioned that she must have given me "cooties." Confused by this unfamiliar term, I asked my friend to explain its meaning.
In the end I gathered nothing from that friend, so I asked my dad.
What I gathered from his explanation was that I had liked Deja more than a friend should, that I had a crush on her.
I had a crush.
A crush on, my best friend.
This realization added an extra layer of difficulty to my emotions as I struggled with the fear of potentially ruining our friendship.
To say the least, I was scared.
How was I going to face her?
I couldn't, when I knew that my heart rate would race when she was near.
At first I did not realize the extent of my feelings for her, until it was too late since a few months later, Deja mom made the decision to move away, which left me feeling completely devastated.
The memories of those days when I would isolate myself in my room, crying, are still very clear in my mind. I couldn't help but constantly think about the boring evenings that would await me at home, knowing that I could have spent those moments with Deja, enjoying endless hours of television shows, and eating junk food.
The volume of the music increased, enveloping the room, and in that instant, my heart began to race within my chest. Glancing at my phone, I couldn't help but notice her contact number still displayed on the screen, adorned with a red heart icon beside her name, Deja.
As I stood by the counter, It started to feel as though hours had passed since she left, yet she was still consuming my thoughts.
Unable to resist the pull, I finally decided to text her.
Hey, I hope you got home safe. 12:35 am
I hope to see you at school Deja. 12:36 am
Just as I was about to write another text, I was interrupted by one of my teammates, who approached me with excitement, his arms swinging over my shoulders.
"Cameron! Dude let's celebrate!"
We celebrated our victory like any group of college students would – with drinks flowing and spirits high. Pouring myself a drink, I raised a toast to our success, the sharp burn of the liquor cascading down my throat, momentarily numbing the persistent thoughts of Deja.
One drink turned into two, and then into more, as I sought solace in the temporary escape that alcohol provided. The room spun around me, the voices around me blending into a blur as I drowned my thoughts in an attempt to forget, only to find Deja’s face lingering in the shadows of my consciousness.
With each gulp, I felt the haze of intoxication creeping in, my mind slowly succumbing to the blissful numbness.
As darkness encroached on my mind and the world slipped away in a haze of intoxication, one name remained etched in my mind.
