Blair

(TW: mentions of drugs)

The town where I'd grown up had become a prison of sorts. Its limitations mirrored my own, as I struggled to envision a life beyond its boundaries. The weight of uncertainty pressed down on me, smothering my dreams. And I had once had big dreams. I wanted to be a star. An actress, a singer, a model-anything that would get me out of this bubble in some small, desolate region of Montana. 

But here I am, six years out of high school and working a dead end job at a grocery store. I get up every morning at five o’clock, get ready, do my makeup and all that, and then head in for my shift which was a consistent six to three. It wasn’t ideal but I was getting by just fine living in an apartment I shared with my sister. My dreams of stardom waned with each passing day and the older I got, the less drive I had to leave Livingston and become something otherworldly. So in Livingston I stayed. 

As I was stocking an aisle in the grocery store, someone passed me. I smelled her first-lavender. I knew that perfume, it was one I had tested in a beauty store on a trip to Missoula. I looked over and saw a beautiful woman, tall and classy, perfectly manicured nails, meticulously styled blonde hair, and sparkling blue eyes. I knew this woman. Where did I know her from? And as I continued to stare at her, she turned her head and smiled. “Melanie?” She said my name in a crisp, cool voice. 

And then it hit me. She was Mason Sutton. God, she had changed. Back in high school she sported bright, bubblegum pink hair and a nose ring she gave herself in the bathroom at a party in the ninth grade. Ears were all pierced, too. Her makeup was always bold and extravagant. She was a punk and now, she looked like any other middle class mom living in the suburbs. 

“Mace?” I said, gawking at her. 

“Yeah! Well, I go by my middle name now. Blair,” she laughed as she took a couple steps closer to me. She looked completely unrecognizable. I stood up from my crouching position and she embraced me. She was warm and familiar but it was odd to see her this way. “What have you been up to?” She asked as we separated. 

I didn’t know what to say. We used to smoke weed together on the roof of her home, and share dreams of becoming stars. She wanted to be the lead of a band. And she had the right voice and look for it back then. She wore ripped jeans and band tees, leather jackets and combat boots. And now she wore a beige sweater and black leggings. I pushed a smile. “Well, you know, working here,” I chuckled nervously. 

“So you never made it to Hollywood, huh?” She said cheekily, her eyes dazzling in the fluorescent lighting. Her makeup was neutral, that kind of no-makeup look that made her look effortlessly beautiful. Jealousy brewed within me. I had to work hard to look decent. Constantly plucking eyebrow hairs, popping pimples and covering acne with concealer. 

I laughed, trying to come off as cool. “No, no. I threw those dreams away and decided to be realistic.”

“Yeah, same here. I married Derek Milton. Do you remember him?”

I would have screamed in laughter. Derek Milton was a jock, linebacker for the football team. Completely outside of our social circle. He was tall and brunette with brown eyes, a strong jaw. He was a stud back then and we always made fun of him and his goons. “Yeah, I remember him. How’d that happen?”

“Well, we both ended up going to the University of Montana. I studied communications and he did, too. He wanted to be a sports broadcaster. Now, he works as a football coach for the high school. And I work as a columnist at the newspaper. We have two kids, if you can believe it. Two boys. Atlas and Archer. Atlas is four and Archer is a year old as of last month.”

I nodded slowly, still adjusting to seeing her like this. 

“What about you? Are you married?”

I laughed, not meaning to. My cheeks grew red. “No. I don’t plan on it either.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not for everybody,” she shrugged. “Are you seeing anyone at least?”

My dating life was a barren wasteland. I'd dabble in casual encounters, mostly with guys I met at work or through my sister's social circle. But these were fleeting connections, devoid of substance or meaning. Secretly, I longed for something more meaningful. Something that dragged me out of this rut I had been stuck in for six years. 

“Not really,” I said, scratching the back of my neck. 

“Well give it time, you’ll meet someone,” she winked. “Hey, we should get coffee sometime. What time are you off work today?”

“Oh, uh, three.”

“Great! Meet me at Moe’s at four! It’ll be fun to catch up.”

I wrestled with the decision, torn between curiosity and self-doubt. Her life seemed so rich and fulfilling, while mine was a monotonous existence. I wondered if she would even notice me, or if I had anything to offer her that she didn't already have.

I sighed. “Sure. What the hell? It’ll be nice.”

“Great!” She said brightly. “See you then!”

The rest of the day dragged on, a monotonous blur of routine tasks. My mind kept wandering back to Mason, or rather, Blair. The transformation was astonishing. The girl we'd once considered a social outcast was now a confident, sophisticated woman, the very embodiment of everything we'd ridiculed in high school. 

After work I quickly went home and threw on a basic tee and jeans and then made my way to Moe’s. When I walked in, I spotted her immediately. Her hair was down now and she wore a black jumper with a beige colored long sleeved shirt beneath it. She waved me over to her table. I sat down awkwardly as she leaned forward. 

“Wow. You haven’t changed much,” she mused, looking at me. She pushed forward an iced coffee. “You still like caramel iced coffee with two shots of espresso right?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, I do.” I took the iced coffee and sipped it, it was divine. 

“I can’t believe it’s you! Melanie Bradley. Ugh, the things we used to get into,” she laughed. “Do you still smoke weed?”

I grinned. I smoked a joint on the way over here. “Sometimes.”

“Did you end up going to college?”

“Yeah. In Bozeman. Just went for general studies, I didn’t major in anything. Then I moved back here and I’ve just been working at the store for the last few years. I live with my sister, Chloe, in an apartment.”

“Oh, Chloe. How’s she doing?”

“She’s a mess, as she’s always been,” I laughed. “But you know, she’s good company.”

Blair nodded with a smile on her face. “Do you like your job?”

“It’s okay. It pays well so that’s good. And what about you? Being a columnist must be interesting.”

“It’s good. I get to work from home mostly which is good because I have the boys to worry about. On the days that I have to go into work, my mom watches them. And it pays well enough.”

Her gaze held a profound weight that made me feel utterly insignificant, as if I were just a fleeting blip in the vast tapestry of existence. Those eyes, rich with a depth and wisdom that seemed to surpass her years, pierced through the facade of confidence I wore. In their depth, I sensed the stories of ages past, the lessons learned from countless experiences, and the understanding of life’s intricate complexities. Sitting across from her, I felt a wave of humility wash over me, leaving me acutely aware of my own smallness and inadequacy in contrast to the vast world she seemed to comprehend so effortlessly. It was as if she saw right through me, revealing not just my insecurities but the unspoken truths I often kept hidden, amplifying the sense that I was but a minor character in a story far greater than my own.

In many ways, she remained remarkably unchanged from the person I once knew. I had always lived in her shadow, an observer to her vibrant life. With a magnetic personality that demanded attention, she effortlessly drew people in. Her punky confidence, once the hallmark of her character, was still evident; it was the same captivating aura that had turned heads and sparked interest among boys. Her long, lean legs and ample chest only added to her allure, making her a striking presence wherever she went. Even now, she seemed to radiate an energy that made it impossible to ignore her, a blend of charisma and charm that left me feeling perpetually in the background. If anyone could’ve been a rockstar, it was Blair, or Mason as I once knew her. And now here she was, in clothes bought undoubtedly from Target and the mother of two boys, married to a jock we used to mock. 

A grin spread across my face as I took in the absurdity of my situation. The haze from the joint I had smoked on the way over wrapped around me like a warm blanket, softening the edges of reality and amplifying the amusement of the moment.

“How is your mom and dad?”

“They’re good. Mom retired from teaching two years ago. Dad’s still working as a mechanic but he’ll be retiring soon, too.”

“And your brother?”

My heart raced at the mention of my brother, a familiar ache swelling within me. I lowered my head and shook it slightly, the words barely escaping my lips. “He, uh, passed away.” Caden had lost his battle two years ago to an overdose, becoming just another statistic in the relentless opioid epidemic that has ravaged our country. The weight of his absence still felt heavy, a reminder of the struggle and sorrow that so many families endure.

The smile faded from her face and she became more restrained. “Oh, Jesus, Melanie. I’m so sorry.”

I shrugged and took a long sip of my coffee. “It’s okay. I’ve adjusted, I think, to him not being around. It was rough at first. Not being able to call him or text him. Now, I just…chose to remember him how he was, you know?”

She nodded. 

“What about your boys? Tell me about them.”

She smiled again. “Atlas is a typical boy, always playing in the mud and getting dirty. Archer is sweet. He started walking early so he’s all over the place. I have to keep him on a leash when we go out,” she laughed brightly. “But they’re my whole world.”

“That must be nice.”

“It is. Yeah, it is to have something to call your own. Children are a gift, you know. The greatest gift life can offer.”

Next to her, I felt painfully small—utterly insignificant. While she radiated purpose and energy, I found myself drifting through each day without direction or drive, merely going through the motions of life. There was a stark contrast between her vibrant presence and my own quiet existence, highlighting the emptiness I struggled to fill. I felt the need to escape this situation. I couldn’t be here anymore. 

“Yeah, I’m sure they are.” I responded, not knowing what else to say. I sounded bitter and to be honest, I was. 

Blair nodded. She seemed to be out of words. Perhaps I seemed uninterested or perhaps she could sense that I was high. Maybe she could sense my jealousy and my shame at my uninteresting, aimless life. 

We talked a bit more, about nothing really. Just catching up on the different lives we lived. And when it was time to say goodbye, Blair embraced me tightly. She patted my back in circles. “We have to get together again sometime. You still have my number, right?”

As we separated I looked in her eyes and saw a genuine flicker. I pushed a smile. “Yeah. I think I do.”

“Well, either way, find me on Facebook, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay. I’ll see you around, Mel.” She said as she swung her purse around her shoulder. 

“Yeah. See you.”

She walked away, leaving me alone in the corner of the café, and an overwhelming wave of rage surged within me. The anger bubbled up like a tempest, fueled by a mix of betrayal and frustration. The chatter of other patrons faded into a distant hum, drowned out by the pounding of my heart and the relentless spiral of my thoughts. In that crowded café, I was surrounded by people, yet I felt completely isolated, trapped in my own storm of emotions.

I rushed out to my car, feeling a threatening urge of tears in my eyes. Once in my car, I screamed, all the weight of my anger, all the memories of us in school, getting up to no good, smoking weed between classes, getting drunk at parties, and swearing we were going to be something someday. But Blair moved on. She became someone on her own, had a husband and kids and left all of it behind. Meanwhile I was stuck in the same mindset I had in school except I left my dreams and hopes behind. 

I never texted or called her, nor did I send her a friend request on Facebook, even though I couldn’t resist the urge to scroll through her page. Each click felt like peering into a carefully curated gallery of her life—an endless mirage of vibrant pictures showcasing her laughter, her family, and the beautiful moments that filled her days. It was a stark contrast to my own existence, which often felt mundane and unremarkable. Her life seemed so full and radiant, a kaleidoscope of joy and connection that I longed for but felt so far removed from. I would find myself lost in those images, a quiet observer of a happiness that felt out of reach, each snapshot a reminder of the distance between us and the different paths our lives had taken. As I closed my laptop after another late-night scroll, a sense of longing and sadness settled in, underscoring just how much I missed the connection we once shared.

We used to be the best of friends. We had matching bracelets that we always wore. We shared our hopes and dreams under the sacredness of stars and we promised to always be in each other’s lives. But then she left for college and I became lost in a maze of uncertainty and regret. 

The chance encounter stayed in my mind for a long time. I thought often of her, and kicked myself in the ass for never reaching out. I laid awake at night wondering what could’ve been, as I had for the last six years. Blair awakened something inside me-a desire to change. Change what? I wasn’t so sure. I never quit my job, never applied to any colleges to further my education and actually learn something, never stopped smoking weed or drinking on the weekends with Chloe at her various friends' homes. I stayed in a meaningless existence and nothing ever changed. I stayed the same and stalked Blair’s Facebook and Instagram and saw how beautiful her life was as she welcomed another baby into this world, this time, a little girl named Dahlia Dakota. And it all filled me with rage. Rage that she could move on and become a mother, a wife, and I was meanwhile stuck in a cycle of existential dread and despair. 

But that’s life, right?