Been Here All Along

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"You'd lose your mind trying to understand mine." - Andrea Russett

*a month later*

Summer for college students is over as we know it. The fall semester started on Monday and I already feel swamped with work. I'm on my fifth year of schooling, and it's no walk in the park.

Somehow, I managed to make it through my first week back, and that's looking on the bright side. Ian also started school this past Monday at a local community college that offered basic courses he needed to take before he'd transfer to a university in the spring. Ian described his workload as "light work," and I envied him for it. Throughout high school, almost everything always came so easily to Ian. As for Kaila, she finally began her paid internship at a big-time publisher in Brownsville.

We knew we were growing up when Kaila's name only appeared once on the Westchester schedule for the upcoming week. She had to open her schedule for her full-time internship with the publishing company, which meant only working one shift a week from here on out. Quitting just did not seem like the solution right now for any of us.

   It scares me that there will soon come a day where I no longer spend every day here. It's sad to me that I won't be able to work here forever because it really has been an amazing job. I have worked here for nearly an entire decade after all.

   "Good morning," I greeted Ian as I walked into his apartment. Of course I gave a warning knock before I'd let myself in. That'd be awkward if I walked in on him naked. "Ready for therapy?"

   Ian only nodded as he ran through his hair. He followed me out the door with no other exchange of words.

   He must've just not slept well last night, leading to his sourpuss mood.

I decided not to make much of an effort to converse with him. Before therapy he's usually antisocial anyway, and today it just seems heightened. Instead, we listened to the radio play today's top hits to fill the car with sound.

"I'll be here," I told Ian, taking a seat in the waiting room like I do every time I come with. I usually only come Saturday's nowadays because one of my classes got inconveniently scheduled the same time as Ian's Thursday appointments. This past month, though, he seems to be handling therapy a lot better in general. Everyone has bad days, but he obviously functions well enough to drive himself to and from.

Despite kissing in Massachusetts a month ago, Ian and I have pretty much snapped back to complete normality. Normal to when we were just friends, anyway. Aside from all of the relationship stuff, we are practically exactly the same as we were when Ian left four years ago. We hangout all of the time, talk all of the time, laugh together, smile together. I finally have my best friend back.

Ian came out an hour later. His expression was blank, as though the life was sucked out of him in this past hour. He didn't stop to talk to me and went straight to the door to exit. I waved a quick goodbye to the receptionist and hurriedly followed Ian out to my car.

"How'd it go?" I asked hesitantly. In all of my years of knowing Ian and the deep understanding I have of him, I didn't recognize this side of him. I wasn't sure how to go about talking to him.

The cold, hard glare he gave me from the passenger seat made me flinch. "Just drive." At that, he looked away and stared at the window.

"E, if something happened, you can talk to me about it," I tried again.

"How about..." he trailed off, his voice dropping alarmingly low, "you mind your own business and drive?"

So I drove.