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Meghan

"God, these boxes are so heavy!" I hear her groan from the living room. I roll my eyes and walk out of my new bedroom, making my way towards Chelsea. "What the hell did you put in these boxes, Meg?! Your whole fuckin' house?!" She looked really frustrated, which only made the whole situation that much funnier considering that she's this 5'2 blonde-haired squirt trying to drag a box across the room.

I stifled a laugh as she placed her hands on her hips and gave me a glare, "A little help would be nice." She gives me a pointed look, then stiffly points towards the other seven boxes that are sitting by the front door.

"Okay, jeez I got it. I'll do the rest of them." I raise my hands up in surrender. I look over my shoulder to see her arms across her chest and a big pout on her face. I stick my tongue out at her and she smiles.

"God, it's so great to have you here with me! I've missed you so much, Meg! It's been five months too long!" She hurdles towards me, practically tackling me to the floor with a bear hug. We lay on the big rug laughing so hard that my sides begin to hurt, until she turns her head to face me and gives me a sad smile.

No, Chelsea. Don't bring it up. Please.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Meghan?" She asks, her brows furrow as she studies my face. I turn my head towards the ceiling and close my eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath before opening them again and slowly shaking my head.

"It's not what I want, actually." From the corner of my eye I see her open her mouth to say something but I raise my finger and signal her to let me finish. I turn my head towards her again, let out a shaky breath before speaking.

"It's not what I want. At all. But," I take another deep breath, "it is what I need." Her eyes soften and she nods, but then just as quickly her eyes grow wide with excitement.

"We can start having pajama and wine nights!" She squeals, clapping her hands and standing up from the floor. This is what I love about Chelsea, she never dwells too much on the sad, the negative, or the bad. And she knows me well enough to understand that I don't want to dwell on them either, especially when I'm trying so hard to leave my past as just that.

My past.

"Okay, finish putting those boxes away while I run to the store to get some extra food, yeah?" She asks, lending me a hand and helping me up.

"Sure thing, Chels," I say, dusting the back of my jeans and nodding my head.

I watch as she walks across the living room, hollering a 'be right back' as she walks out the door. I stay standing in the middle of the room, finally having a moment to take in my surroundings. Walking over to the large windows that overlook the city, I slide one open and walk out into the balcony. The air is crisp, the sky a beautiful shade of blue and there was hardly any clouds in sight. As I hold onto the railing and look out towards the skyline, I couldn't help but think about Sam.

He would have loved it here.

I close my eyes and picture myself walking towards the small park on the other side of Hillsborough, the one where Sam had officially asked me to be his girlfriend. It had been after the final game of the season, right before Sophomore year ended and he had turned down the party invitation, even though it was in his honor. He had said that he wanted to show me something and drove me there, to that very small park with the very big oak tree.

 He had said that he wanted to show me something and drove me there, to that very small park with the very big oak tree

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