Friends Forever

The final year of college was the loneliest for Ellen. Her parents, who had been discussing a move to Florida since her last year of high school, finally made the transition, packing their essentials and renting a small house in Pensacola. Heather, Ellen’s best friend, had a baby, and Ellen only heard from her through social media when she posted pictures of her chubby newborn. The guys Ellen liked didn’t share her feelings, and those who were attracted to her were in their thirties, recently divorced, with flashy cars they had purchased after their failed marriages. Ellen felt completely isolated in the city. This is why, when she met Tanya at the publishing house where she worked part-time, she invited her for coffee.

Ellen hadn't planned to do it. Tanya came to pick up four heavy boxes of books for the school where she taught English. Ellen watched her struggle to lift the boxes and thought there was no way she would make it to the bus stop. She picked up two of the boxes and followed Tanya down the stairs. The girls stood at the bus stop in silence, Ellen’s usual social awkwardness preventing her from making small talk. The bus arrived, and they still didn’t say a word. Only when the doors were about to close did Ellen say, "Hey, would you like to come to my house for coffee?"

She hadn't meant to say it—the words just burst out. She knew very little about Tanya, even though they attended the same high school. However, she did recall that once Tanya had sneaked a bicycle to the rooftop of the school building and rode it there until the principal climbed up and took the bike away. Ellen also suspected that Tanya disliked her. In her final year of high school, Ellen’s literature teacher encouraged her to submit poems to the school’s poetry competition, and she followed his advice. Tanya was one of the organizers and participants. She opened the evening by reading three of her poems while organ music played in the background. She wore a long gray dress that sparkled under the stage lights, her face turned upward to what would have been the sky if it hadn't been obscured by the ceiling.

Ellen won the competition. For the next three months, each time she passed Tanya in the corridor, she felt unmistakable resentment.

When Ellen invited Tanya for coffee, she didn’t expect her to accept.

Tanya showed up three days later, bringing tea, fruit, and a bottle of wine. They sat in the kitchen and talked about random topics. It was pleasant. Ellen felt as if they had left their high school issues behind and had become adults.

"Do you fly?" Tanya suddenly asked, licking the rim of her wine glass.

"Like, in my dreams?"

"No, like an out-of-body experience. Astral projection?"

"I don't think so," Ellen replied, confused.

"We should try it together! The fact that we met is no coincidence. I didn't even know you existed until that poetry event, you know? But when I heard you read your poems, I knew I had found a companion for eternity. You belong to the same tribe as me. When I fly at night, I see the whole planet, the whole universe. Not just the present, but the past and the future. You and I—we will die at 84 in Spain. In my previous life, I was Thaïs, the only love of Alexander the Great. And you were Eris, a priestess from the Temple of Anahita, who followed Thaïs until her death. Do you know what that means? If we fly together, we can see all our lives—lived and unlived."

Ellen had also read Thaïs of Athens in high school. The book circulated among students for nearly a year, passed around by someone who was obsessed with Russian science fiction. However, she recognized that the story was precisely that: science fiction.

"How do you know I was Eris?" she said lightly. "Maybe I was Alexander the Great?"

Perhaps Tanya sensed Ellen’s sarcasm because her expression darkened.

"Do you know what’s upsetting? That I dropped everything and rushed across the city to have coffee with you—which, by the way, I hate. Somehow, I convinced myself that your invitation was sincere! I’ve always believed that in relationships, it’s either all or nothing. Do you think I don't have anything better to do? Do you think I don’t have a boyfriend who needs me right now? And I chose you! But you take everything for granted, as always. Just like you did at that poetry event! I was the one who did all the work! I was the one who selected the jury and interviewed local authors. I read all the texts of all the participants. Your poetry wasn’t better than anyone else’s! You just got lucky!"

It took Ellen some time to recover after that evening. She also decided that she was better off without friends.

Tanya came by a few more times, banging on her door, but Ellen pretended she wasn’t home. Tanya left countless voicemails, all of which Ellen deleted. Eventually, Tanya stopped bothering her, and Ellen thought she had given up.

Except she hadn't. One weekend, someone knocked on the door, and Ellen opened it without checking the peephole. There stood Tanya, wrapped in a summer dress, her round face covered in freckles, long hair cascading to her waist. She wasn't alone either.

"This is Andy," Tanya said, gesturing to the man standing behind her. "We just met; he gave me a ride from my house."

Tanya walked straight into the kitchen and placed a bottle of wine on the table. Andy followed her, seeming shy.

"Andy is going through a divorce," Tanya said, opening the bottle. "He came home at lunch to surprise his wife, and she was in bed with another man."

Andy blushed.

"I told him that we could help, that we could dispel his curse and make him whole again. You and me, Thaïs and Eris! Just like we did in ancient Greece. The way we healed Alexander the Great and made him a true king. Our bodies and spirits—yours, mine, and Andy's—can unite in eternity, and we can fly together to other planets and meet our ancestors."

It took Ellen a full minute to realize what she meant. When she did, she regretted opening the door.

"I was actually getting ready to go to the store to pick up some groceries," Ellen mumbled.

"Great idea," Tanya said, rising from the chair. "I’m starving. We should go get some fast food. Andy can drive us."

"I need to change," Ellen said, gesturing to her pajama pants and fluffy house shoes with rabbit ears.

"Oh, come on," Tanya waved dismissively. "We'll use the drive-thru. No one will see you in the car."

They picked up sandwiches at Wendy’s and were on their way home when Tanya noticed a poster with horses fixed to a lamppost.

"Look!" she exclaimed, grabbing Andy's arm. "Free horse rides in the park! It’s not that far away—about ten minutes? Let’s go!"

"Can you drop me off at my house first?" Ellen asked from the back seat.

"No way! You’re coming with us! Have you ever ridden a horse?"

"I’m not riding a horse in my pajamas."

"It’s fine," Tanya laughed. "No one will notice."

She was mistaken. Everyone noticed. Everyone stared and judged. The horse, Wind, that the owner had chosen for Ellen was old, slow, and clearly very hungry. Wind stopped each time he spotted a patch of grass and didn’t move until he had eaten most of it. Andy and Tanya didn’t wait for Ellen, and by the time she completed the loop, she saw Tanya standing by the car, holding her cell phone and crying. Andy stood next to her, unsure of what to do.

Ellen slid off the horse and walked toward them.

"My mom fell; she’s in the hospital!" Tanya wailed. "I need to go see her. Can you drive me to the hospital, Andy?"

"Can you drop me by my house?" Ellen asked.

Tanya turned her gaze to Ellen.

"Are you always so selfish? My mother is in the hospital! She’s dying! And all you can think about is yourself!"

"Well, her house is on the way…" Andy interjected.

"No, it's not! It’s in the opposite direction! It’s not that far, anyway; she can walk," Tanya said.

"Are you going to make me walk home like this?" Ellen pointed at her pink house shoes with long rabbit ears. Tanya didn’t respond. She got into the car.

"Oh, come on! Are you really going to leave me here like this?" Ellen yelled.

"Sorry, I’ll call you later," Tanya waved from the car. "Let’s go, Andy."

After graduation, Ellen moved to a small town in the West. Her new job was both challenging and interesting; her free time was filled with friendly people who didn’t attempt to become her friends. She met a guy she liked, who liked her back, and after a few months, they rented an apartment together. She didn’t miss her childhood city—the skyscrapers and treeless streets. Her new phone was mostly silent; her new life was becoming routine, only rarely interrupted by calls from her mother, who was weary of the constant heat and was considering moving back home.

It was Sunday night after New Year's Day, and Ellen was almost asleep when she heard her phone buzz. Then again. And again. The phone was already on the charger, which was out of reach, and she didn’t want to get up.

"Someone really wants to talk to you," Ellen’s partner yawned.

"I know, right?" Ellen sighed.

"Aren't you going to check? It might be important." He nudged her lightly off the bed.

She stumbled to the charger in the dark and grabbed the phone. Squinting at the bright light of the screen, she read the messages.

Hey! Happy New Year!

Guess who? It's Tanya!

You left without saying goodbye!

Call me! Let's watch a movie together.

What are you reading right now?

We are all sisters and brothers on this planet.

We might be different, but we all share the same thoughts and feelings.

Send me your photo, your poems, and everything…

Are you still writing poetry?

Ellen turned the phone screen off. Then she turned it on again.

"Hey," she typed, "How are you?"