** Nothing. **

"LISTEN. EVERYTHING LIES IN SILENCE."

She sighs, crumples the waxy slip of paper. Tosses it onto the table.

Someone should really tell this jackass that that – is not – a fortune.

Never was one for the cookie bits. The fortunes – on the other hand… she had this thing. Could never crack open the shell outright. Had to tuck them away, let them sit – get to know her a little. They always seemed to work better that way. Not this one. A week in her purse gone to waste. Lousy piece of shit. She breaks off a corner – crumbs exploding against her fingertips, melting into her sweaty palms. Fuckin gross. Drops the shell and wipes her hands against her jeans.

Outside the air is thick with humidity – two days of rain interrupted by an intruding sun. Damp asphalt turning into precipitation leaves behind its oily fumes. The smell of dirt carried in through the vent by the winds of change. Covers her nose with her sleeve. Where is he?

Sips her coffee. Waits.

Four years is a lifetime. Sometimes. Remembers his mother then – glowing face, curly brown hair, Reebok tennis shoes and, what… yes… a purple shirt. It was a purple shirt. With an embroidered kitten over the chest. They were seven. She came into class that day because they were making tortillas for Cinco de Mayo. "It’s the girl with the tiger eyes," she cooed, "how have you been, sweetheart?" So shy – she shrank, curled up into herself, squeaked out a barely audible "good, Mrs. Brown…". He stood there, watching her. "Well good," she smiled, "I love your barrette…". Reached out, touched it – ran her smooth fingers down the length of her hair, "it’s beautiful." He smirked – his crooked smile taunting her from behind his mother’s back. Her cheeks turned red – breathed out a "thank you…" before spinning around and making a run for her desk.

"Excuse me…"

She loved him then, you know. As much as a seven year old knows how to love. Had written his name in newly perfected cursive all over her diary. A single heart dotting the i. Had loved him since kindergarten.

"Miss? Excuse me…"

Jr. High was different. They were friends, then. Best – actually. He played trumpet in the band. She was on the drill team. Honor Society. Yearbook. It happens that way, when you’re together so much. She still loved him – as much as a thirteen year old knows how to love.

"Hey, I’m gonna just grab this chair i-"

"No!"

Man’s hand snaps back. He jumps, startled. Stares.

"I’m sorry – jesus – I was just… god I’m sorry, I was totally spaced. I’m waiting for someone…"

"That’s okay…" he smiles. "Happens to me all the time."

"I’m sorry…" her cheeks flush. He retreats – leaving her with ghosts.

He was her first ferris wheel partner. Eighth grade – Mr. Good took their English class to Knott’s – something reserved only for those in the gifted and talented education program. He asked her out when they reached the top – it was magical.

She said no. Didn’t want to lose a friend.

So much for that. Finishes off her coffee – contemplates getting another. Her leg bouncing up and down under the rickety table – a nervous tick. Feels it then – a hand, curled lightly around her shoulder. Jumps. Spins around to – yes…

"Oh my god!" she gasps – hands brought up to muffle intrigue. Knows him in an instant – his hair is shorter. What was once a lanky stature now sharp edges and muscle. Only a hint left of that crooked smile… Stubborn tears blur her vision – but those eyes. Yes – it is him, there – in those eyes.

Her shoulder sinks beneath the weight of his touch. Can feel his heartbeat there, in the fingertips. She stares – frozen.

He smiles. "Hey tiger eyes… long time no see…". Squeezes her shoulder before coming around to take the empty chair.

Paralyzed.

"Well," he laughs – shakes his head, smiles… folds both hands together – posts them beneath his chin, elbows laid casually on the table.

"I’m sorry," she chokes out, "it’s just been awhile…" Wipes her eyes. Folds her hands into her lap. Smiles.

"Yeah – well… about that…" he laughs, breaks his gaze –

"Yeah. I missed you – you know. You just…" stops herself.

"I know. I did. I know…" he catches her gaze then. Shrugs. She can’t stay mad at him. Not him. "So – anyway…what are you drinking, still black? I’ll get you another… be right back…"

And just like that it was old times. Funny how it works – old friends. Best friends. A stranger looking in would never guess – never think to question the history. The hurt.

Found out his little brother had joined the military – wanted to be a pilot. He’d always been into planes, she remembered. His dad was still an electrician. Hadn’t electrocuted himself since the night of the Spring Show in seventh grade when he tried to hook up the loud speaker for the Star Spangled Banner. Still had that old beat-up truck – bright green. You could see him coming from a mile away.

She told him about school – graduation. That she was thinkin of going back – maybe getting her master’s. Told him about her mom – not everything, of course. Just that things were looking better than before… than they were. That she was supposed to have her surgery soon – that she may even be able to walk again. Maybe.

"How’s your cousin doin," he asked, "how’s he been?"

She flinches. Blinks. Shrugs. "Haven’t heard from him in awhile. Relapsed again… he was doin good there… for about a year…"

His mother was well, he said. Started some sort of small business out of her home – knick knacks. She could picture her there, embroidering kittens onto throw pillows. The thought made her smile. He noticed.

"She asked about you the other day, you know. Asked me how you were doing…" he trails off. Looks up – eyes pleading. "..yelled at me because she hadn’t seen you in forever…," eyes asking for forgiveness, "I didn’t want to lie to her anymore… that’s why I called." Waiting.

She stiffens. Wasn’t ready for this. Not yet. Not yet.

"What happened?" she asks, searches his face. "I mean – I know what happened. But – you just disappeared." The heat rushes out of her hands. Meets his gaze. Cold. "All this shit starts happening and… whatever… I mean, it’s okay, you know – cuz you were there – but then you weren’t."

"I know… I just… I couldn’t…" looks down. Picks at the sleeve wrapped around his cup.

"I mean,really, what the hell man," she breathes, giving in to the anger, "that whole thing was so fucked up. What she did… what YOU did… didn’t do… what the hell, man. I didn’t-" she stops.

"I’m sorry," he shifts. "I didn’t know she did that."

"Collin!" she yells, "I heard you!"

He looks down now. Away. Bites his lip. But she can’t stop. Can’t let him off that easy.

"She called me at 2:00 in the morning, Collin. When my mom was sick. When she was fucking dying… I didn’t know… I thought…" she starts to shake, "… god Collin I thought she was dead! I thought it was my sister calling to tell me that she was dead!"

Body trembling, now. Violent bursts of heat interrupted by ice cold shooting through her arms – legs – behind her eyes – down her spine. Can’t stop it now. Hello… he- Nicole… is that… what’s wrong? Is it mom? Hello? What… who?

"And then she starts… my god she just started yelling at me! I didn’t even know who it was and – "

Remembers that night. The phone call. Waking up – terrified. The voice on the other end – a stranger – calling her a bitch. Calling her a whore. Calling her a cheater and a liar and a cunt. Who the fuck is this! And finding out that it was her – that it was Cori. She had heard of her – Collin had been dating her for awhile, then. She had talked to him the day before about her – had made plans to meet up at the beach – Collin, Cori, her, her boyfriend. Couldn’t understand what the fuck –

Until it started making sense. "You knew he liked you," she spit into the phone, "you knew he’s always liked you. You’re a fuckin whore -" Found out then that Collin had never told Cori that he’d found her again – started talking to her – catching up on old times. That they talked all the time, now – that they were just friends. She didn’t know. Found a few emails. Went through his phone. Clumsily pieced together an age old friendship and turned her into some cheap skank. "You’d better watch your back you bitch." Remembers the sound of his voice, there – in the background – yelling. Remembers the sound of the dial tone.

The emails went on for a few months. A handful of phone messages. Calling her names. Telling her to watch her back. She answered the phone once – heard them having sex. Just when she thought it was over – another one would surface. Her mom went back into the hospital then – the surgery went well. But then came the infection. It was hard.

Her cousin went into rehab. She missed him. Spent two months clean once he got out – went back to the streets.

"Your fuckin girlfriend threatens me. She accuses me of being a liar, calls me a cunt… tells me I better watch my back…" the tears come back now; she doesn’t try to stop them. "I needed you, Collin. I really needed you. And you did nothing… you didn’t even give me a fuckin courtesy call – say, ‘hey, dude, sorry, my fuckin girlfriend is whacked out of her mind and says I can’t talk to you anymore even though you’re my best fuckin friend and you need me right now -‘" 

She pauses. Breathes. Wipes her eyes with balled up fists.

"I would have understood.  Would have left you alone. You know me – you know I’d never do anything to come between anyone. God… you couldn’t even do that for me – you just disappeared. Is that all I meant to you? After everything? You just…"

Looks up. His brown eyes muddied with tears.

"You just fuckin forgot me."

Can’t take it then. Grabs her bag. Pushes her chair back.

"Friends don’t just disappear. They don’t forget you. They don’t leave you alone with nothing – no explanation – no goodbye – no… I’m sorry you’re goin through shit right now but, later, have a nice life…"

Stands.

"I loved you, Collin. You were my best friend, you know."

He catches his breath. Covers his mouth with fists. Squeezes his eyes closed.

"I’m sorry," he chokes.

"What the hell happened to her anyway? Why are we here all of a sudden? You still with her?"

He says nothing.

"Oh, God, Collin. Does she know about this? Right now? Does she even know?"

He says nothing.

She swears. Shakes her head.

"I’ll make this easy. I’m sorry – but, I can’t go through that again. Have a nice life. I hope she’s worth it."

Reaches over. Grabs the not-fortune. Stuffs it into her pocket. Looks – the brown hair, not as long as it used to be. The muscular frame, not at all lanky anymore. The crooked smile, pulled tight and hidden behind ice cold fists. His brown eyes – looks. Looks. Remembers.

He wrote in her yearbook once that he’d always loved her. That he’d always be there for her. She believed him. She was young.

She always had been a good listener.

Wipes her eyes. Turns. Walks away.

He says nothing.