November Guest

Medina sighed, startled instantly by the sound in the quiet space.

She'd just shut the door on her friends, who were off to work. They'd told her not to throw too many wild parties in the three hours she was alone, and had joked about finding the house in ashes when they returned.

Medina felt awkward the second they left, daunted by their quiet, suddenly unfriendly house, made larger by their absence.

"Okay," She declared, clapping her hands before cringing with embarrassment. "Wow, I'm really just-" She cut herself off, feeling weird.

The silence judgementally stayed silent. All that could be heard was the waves lightly skating along the beach, an interesting parallel to the incessant sounds of traffic in the city.

Medina squirmed a little, completely nonplussed by this situation. Since her arrival, she'd been surrounded by her friends, their sunny presence like a cosy scarf.

In the last three days, she hadn't been alone for a single moment; waking up to them jostling her bed, and falling asleep on someone's shoulder deep into the nights.

Now the scarf had been yanked off her neck, and everything felt bare, lifeless and cold.

Medina shivered, moving to a window, and observing the magnificently dark sea.

She'd come in November, so the weather was getting colder and less friendly. The chances of her swimming in the water were basically zero.

All she could do is watch. Watch as the light shone off the rising and dipping waves, and hear that noise.

It had taken some getting used to, despite being as comforting as it was. She'd hardly noticed it these past days, exhausted from adventuring around a new city with Arya and Veronica.

Now it was the only noise in the hushed house, the moving of the sea, the cutting wind, some birds in the distance.

All separated from her, detached and removed. It was like existing in some alien world, trapped in a bubble only surrounded by the foreign sounds of an uninhabited crater.

Medina glanced at her phone. It had been about thirteen minutes. Her friends would not be back anytime soon.

"All alone," She sang lightly, then turned horrifiedly, like the house would start mocking her for her terrible alto.

"God this is weird," Medina mumbled, unable to stop herself from filling the silence.

Sure, silence was great or whatever for introspection. Medina tried for a moment, "All I got is that I miss them." She informed the house, awkwardly scratching at her arms.

What did it say about the state of the world that she couldn't stand being alone for five seconds? That she felt watched, surrounded, even in this desolately, ridiculously empty place?

There was a creak somewhere, and Medina said, "Screw the killer."

Ironic last words, unless the killer was hot. She made herself smirk at that, and set off, curious to see where the one sound was coming from.

It was a welcome interruption, giving her a reason to explore the house.

Sure, Ronnie and Arya hadn't said not to explore, but it was still weird going around without them.

Medina arrived at the front of the house.

"Empty foyer," She said, feeling more than a little stupid. It might not appear like that to any serial killers possibly running around, but she was trying admirably hard to shut up.

She turned, no point in staring at the same darkening sky and similarly daunting sea without her friends.

They also hadn't said not to leave, but Medina somehow couldn't imagine it. Aside from the fact that she didn't have a key, this whole place unnerved her without her friends.

"Possible sign of weakness." She thought aloud, now determined to just go with it.

As she meandered her way back, feeling unproductive and wired with nervous energy, she bumped into an open drawer.

Medina frowned at the drawer, reaching for it. "Ow, that hurt."

It was full of photos, she realized, recognizing the glossy surfaces before she pulled them out.

"Oh gosh," She laughed to herself, flipping through the photos.

That was Veronica doing shots for the first time, with vodka no less. There was Arya adding about eight juices and soda to her vodka.

All of them, lit up by a rare guest appearance by the sun, were seated in the booth of a cafe.

There was a photo of Medina looking decidedly suspicious, caught off guard in a surprisingly hot outfit of green flannel and jeans.

Medina scoffed at the weird face she was pulling in that one. Because of course smiling like a normal person was out of the question for her.

There was all of them at grad. All of them in various scenes of a ridiculously happy and beautiful childhood, teenage experience.

Medina sniffled, and wondered why she'd gotten so weepy recently. University stress maybe?

But it was weird, staring at the photos of a slowly sliding away childhood. When they were all happy and normal, or as happy and normal as kids could be.

When she didn't have to book plane tickets to see the two people she couldn't live without, whose absence she'd felt like a missing limb.

Dramatic for sure, certainly, but also undeniably true. She missed see everything happen for the first time, missed being there for every interaction, every joke.

Every endlessly funny mistake.

Now she was learning about their adventures second hand, like reading a book instead of living the movie.

She was hearing their jokes, their new stories, the topics at the top of their heads late.

Sometimes too late for her take to matter. Briefly, she wondered if Veronica was finding perfect-er friends.

Friends that could be who she wanted now. Friends who weren't perpetually...like Medina.

"That's sad." Medina said childishly, wiping away tears.

Childishly because she wasn't a child. People either treated her like a baby or like a grown up, but she felt torn in eighty different ways.

Odd how teenage hood had been easy compared to this.

"You're being dumb," Medina told herself, placing the photos back. They'd still have fun, and sure things were different, but this was life wasn't it?

Maybe it was time to stop watching scary waves wash the shore in fear, and time to go swim.

"And get hypothermia, like an idiot." Medina sardonically reminded herself.

Okay, maybe that metaphor was faulty. Maybe Medina just had to decide what she wanted.

Medina heard the lock turn and grinned. That could come later, right now, Veronica was home.