A new path

Per tradition, the two friends met for their yearly picnic. A tradition that started in the summer of eighth grade, right before high school. It was an idea brought up by my mom, who was excited about all of the clubs I was joining and wanted me to share my plans with Maria, my best friend since the second grade. “Ugh, can’t you find anywhere with air conditioning to eat?” I complain. “I could but the outdoors is just so lovely, you are just dramatic,” says Maria. It is a cool 89 degrees outside, with 70 percent humidity, as it is the mosquito-filled month of August in Florida. This year was going to be the last year for the duo, as they had just graduated high school. Maria is going off to a college out of state that has a specialized journalism program, while I am going to a local university to focus on microbiology. “Well, I’ll see you at your graduation,” says Maria as we finish saying our bitter-sweet goodbyes and head home.

I was invited to a graduation, just not Maria’s. “I am so glad I get to see you graduate,” I exclaim to Olivia, my younger sister. I graduated college three years ago, a whole year earlier than expected. I was so excited to start my career, that when I graduated, I packed up my things and took a job offer in Michigan. I was so excited I forgot to announce I was moving and I haven’t even visited. My contract has ended, which is a good thing, five years of focusing on a single strand of DNA was not as exciting as I thought it would be, but now I am back in the heat to visit family.  

As I was walking back to my sister’s apartment, a familiar shadow was standing at a door, a few units down from my sister’s room. As I watch the lady fumble with her keys, I am searching for any memory of where I know this lady from. The messy bun, the distinct nose bridge, the blue iPhone, it all seemed so familiar. She turned to check her phone, glanced at me, and she remembered the same time I did. Before I could even get my hand up to wave, she hurried up and unlocked the door. “What is she doing at this college town?” I wonder to myself. I push the question to the back of my mind, as I have graduation to focus on. The door I was standing in front of swings open and I feel the bag snatched out of my hands. Arms wrap around my neck, snapping me out of the empty feeling in my chest and back to reality. “Thank you so much for getting my makeup! Come on inside and finish getting ready,” Olivia says to welcome me in. I already had my makeup and hair done, I just had to get dressed. I helped Olivia with her makeup, but what was really at the forefront of my mind was on what to do next. I have to know who that girl is. I grab a pen and paper from the kitchen and write down my contact information. Do I really want to do this? Is it worth it? I don’t even know her. My time to decide is running low, as I hear the car keys jingle, signifying everyone is ready to leave. 

My parents head out the door first, and since it is Olivia’s apartment, she was the last one out as she had to lock the door. “You know what? You guys go ahead, I’ll be right down to the car. I forgot something,” I yell to my family as they walk down the stairs. I get the keys from my sister and go back inside to grab the note and place it on the door that the girl I saw went into. If it is the girl I am thinking of, hopefully, she will message me. If it’s not her, maybe I can make a friend, hopefully, a better one than she ever was. I turn and rush down the stairs, thinking to myself “I’ve done all I can, time to leave it up to fate and just celebrate my little sister, who chose to live on the third floor, for some strange reason.” 

I zoned out when I feel a nudge at my arm, as my mom makes a snarky comment about how many people are graduating. The best thing I can do is to try and enjoy myself. I decided to check my phone to see how much longer this will take. That’s when I saw it. A text message just saying “meet me at the apartment tables by the lake at 5:00 p.m.” As if I needed anything else to make this go any slower, now I have this to worry about.

The time is 5:05 p.m, and there is no one in sight, as they are all out celebrating graduation. This is five minutes past the meeting time. So many thoughts are swirling around my head, but mostly I am just upset. I let my hopes get up and I let myself naively think that things would be the same as eight years ago. My stomach began to drop as I began realizing that I may have been blown off, and then I began to think I was just overreacting, as it had only been five minutes. As I check my phone and see the time turning to 5:06, I hear a shout. I turn and see the girl with a bag in her hands. I stand up and open my arms as if to go in for a hug, however, I was met with just a handshake. Awfully formal for best friends but I am just glad it is Maria. She takes a seat across from me and reveals four meatball sandwiches. I thought she was a vegetarian, I guess even her diet has changed. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. We sat in silence for a couple of minutes. “Let’s eat, and you can tell me what you're doing in this college town,” I ask, hoping to skip over the small talk. “Well let's start at the beginning. The first year at college went great, I was still talking to Macie, and I met some of the greatest people such as….” Her voice just trails off. The more she talks, the more I realize I have no idea who she is. I have no idea who her friends are, what she likes to do, what her passions are, nothing. I know nothing. I know it’s been eight years but she is a complete stranger. “I also dropped out of college after my first year,” she says. “What? You were so interested in writing, and the school was so great.” “The school was amazing, but it was not my passion at all.” “You loved writing in high school,” I say, inquiringly. “Listen, every year we had picnics to hear about your passions. I only joined that newspaper club to try and fill my free time since I knew you would be too busy to hang out with me. It was the only thing going on in my life so I decided to pursue it, but it was not for me.” And with that sentence, I realized I was the bad friend. All these years I never even knew Maria. She just went to school with me and would listen to me. I never listened to her, I never even asked about her life. As the guilt began to set in, I felt two other people arrive. Now I know why she brought four subs instead of two. “I have some people I want you to meet, these people filled the spot you left, and have been living with me for the past three years,” Maria says. “Oh, so you replaced me,” I quip, “On a more serious note it is hard to imagine that after all of the memories we shared, we drifted apart.” “Well, we didn’t drift. We just have our own paths. Luckily, the paths came close enough that we could walk together for a while. The path I have allowed me to walk next to many people, and I am glad all of our paths lead us all here. Now that you have two new friends, and one old one, why don’t you tell us what you have been up to stranger.” Just like it was eight years ago, the two friends conjoined for a picnic in the hot and mosquito-filled month of July, but this time, the picnic has expanded, and they all have a lot of catching up to do.