lucid dreaming

chapter five

I thank the stars that Imogen doesn't bring up our meet-cute in the store on the car ride home, but I see her side-eyeing me every time my cellphone pings with a notification.

We have an unspoken agreement to tell each other everything, especially when it comes to boys. My mother swears we'll grow out of it, especially when we settle down and get married and whatnot, but we tell each other everything still. I called Imogen twenty minutes after I lost my virginity to Todd. He was still in the room. I just needed to tell her this "other side" of girl hood after "virginity" was a scam, and I felt the same, if not a little sore. We laughed on the phone and Todd stared at me and left the room. Sixteen year olds just did things like that, and Imogen and I never grew out of the phase of wanting to share our every secret with one another. Obviously, we weren't so rude and indiscreet about it towards our partners or friends, but the constant updating never seized, the consistent honesty I had come to treasure with Imogen over the years.

I didn't feel as if I was keeping a secret from her by not wanting to elaborate on James, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't waiting for the perfect time, preferably tonight after Imogen drinks wine while I sip soda (as we do), to tell her I

ventured over to his house without much of a second thought. Got in his car, no less. Imogen wasn't a fan of Todd exactly, but she didn't like dishonest people either. And as I said, she isn't capable of grey, it's black or white*. I would have to tell her soon, or risk her finding out somehow before I got the chance, putting a huge piece of our friendship on the line: our promise of total honesty.

By the time we reach the parking garage, I'm basically twitching with nerves and anticipation. There is a huge part of me who wants to be totally forthcoming with her about everything, about things I haven't even been honest with myself about. But another part of me wants to hide. I have to make a decision soon about what I am choosing to sacrifice for who, and why, or I fear karma might come back to bite me.

When we get back to my apartment, with the "offensive" carpet under our feet, I crack like an egg.

"I saw James last night at the bar," I say, like a balloon letting out air. "We went over to his place so I could tell him about the breakup, but I left like, right after I got there. I couldn't do it," I finish, embarrassed for my rambling out of nowhere. Imogen takes in my confession in the doorway behind me.

"Okay..." she starts, making the word sound almost like a

question. "Do you think he told Todd?" she asks me, posing a question I had asked myself a thousand times between this morning and now, even though James himself committed himself to total secrecy.

"I don't think so. He mentioned some kind of argument they had last month, so I don't think they're talking," I reply, giving her the truth.

"And you don't think it's a little weird he's trying to talk to you one-on-one now that him a Todd aren't speaking? It seems a little too coincidental," skepticism is all over her tone, concern on her face. I never really second guessed James's motives in trying to get me alone, not really. I was more concerned with the butterflies in my stomach. I never considered he could feel the same way.

"We're just friends, Ginny. He was just trying to see if I was okay. I looked like a total loser at The Dive last night, and he was there with some people. We started chatting but I didn't want to get into my issues next to a bar full of people. It isn't that deep. Just friend's being friends," I say that last part, again not sure if I'm trying to convince her or myself, and wondering why I would need to do any convincing in the first place.

~~~

With Imogen sat on my couch, and me sat on my arm-chair, we look like an old married couple. We have a pattern like that. Everything about our friendship is predictable, if not to only each other. We watch movies together, we have nail salon dates and study nights. We gossip after every hang out session, and relive the best moments tucked under the same comforter in a shared bed during sleepovers. Even at 22, we haven't lost our hold on our girlhood and our teenage years. We're still the same nine year old girls we were in her parents house in Pennsylvania.