NOW
I glance at myself one last time in the shared bathroom mirror.
High-waisted jeans. White crop top. Nude heels.
Nails done. Hair down — soft waves, just the right amount of straight.
Ready for a girl's night — and I'm so here for it.
Flora and Athena are picking me up in front of McLaughlin Hall.
We've got a group date tonight.
While I wait for their honk, I stare at the snowy street outside North Park Street, across from the Collis Center.
One last spritz of perfume. A couple more mirror checks.
Second term at Dartmouth. Literature major.
This year, it's graduation or nothing.
The house feels weirdly empty since Mom went back to Boston.
Quiet. Almost peaceful.
Or maybe too quiet.
Honk.
— Get your ass down here! You're making us late like royalty!
Flora's voice echoes all the way to my second-floor room.
Of course. Always my fault.
I grab my bag. One last look in the mirror.
Okay. I look hot.
Quick text to Mike:
"I'm out tonight. Later."
He won't say anything, but I always tell him. Reflex. Habit.
Mike is… complicated.
We hang out nearly every day, flirt without saying a word.
He never asked me to be his girlfriend.
And me? I don't know if I want him to.
Or if I'm just scared of what that would mean.
I run down the concrete stairs, door slamming behind me.
My arms open automatically when I spot my girls, double-parked in front of Baker Library.
— Ready to cause chaos on Main Street?
I wink.
— More than ready. Tonight, we're straight-up fire.
Athena hands me a mint gum.
— Next time, I'm telling you to meet thirty minutes earlier. Your timing's tragic.
— It took me forever to straighten this hair. Beauty takes sacrifice.
Athena blows an air kiss.
We burst into laughter.
These moments? They're bubbles. Safe spaces.
No stress. No heartbreaks. Just us three. And it's enough.
Off to Hanover Downtown.
The new karaoke bar — Vibe Room — just opened on Lebanon Street.
Music blasting. Windows down. Afrobeat in our veins.
I swipe on Fenty gloss while checking myself in the visor mirror.
Athena's flailing her arms like Beyoncé.
Flora's shouting the lyrics like she's in a concert.
— I missed you guys so much,
Flora says, quietly.
We look at her.
She's been going through it lately.
— Missed you too, babe,
I say, grabbing her hand.
— We're here now, okay?
Athena throws her a wink in the mirror.
These two?
Met them freshman year.
Loud, impulsive, emotionally intense — but they're mine.
My favorite chaos.
— Tonight is treasure hunt mode: hot guys only.
Athena sets the rules.
— No exes. No toxic vibes. Just fiancé material or sugar daddy energy. Got it?
— I'm drinking until I forget his name,
Flora mutters.
— I'm drinking and flirting,
I add with a grin.
We laugh so hard the car feels like it might fall apart.
New song every two minutes.
The ride flies by, icy streets glowing under streetlights.
We pull up. Packed.
Total college chaos: neon lights, black walls, cheap beer smell, fruity gloss in the air.
We squeeze to a table, order some overpriced local craft beer we all low-key hate.
— Ready for public humiliation?
I ask.
— Not the kind of songs that'll kill my voice,
Athena jokes.
— Says the one who probably planned a whole show…
Spoiler: she did.
She rushes off to the karaoke booth and comes back beaming.
— Guess what? I signed us up for FIVE songs. And they're ICONIC.
I groan. Flora half-smiles.
— All Adele. You're welcome.
— Ugh. Not Someone Like You…
— Already in the queue,
Flora says, holding the mic like it's a weapon.
I escape to the bar. Beer. Urgently.
They're going to break me.
A guy comes up. Kinda cute. Hoodie. Clean smile.
Asks if he and his friends can join us.
I smile politely.
— Not tonight. Girls only. No kings at our table.
I bring the beers back. Flora's on her phone again.
I snatch it from her hands.
— He's not texting back? Good. He doesn't deserve your attention. You're here with us, remember?
She nods. I hand her the beer.
We clink.
To us.
To healing hearts.
To our soft power.
Songs roll.
We scream. Laugh. Sing off-key.
Athena does a dramatic dance move and almost falls.
Flora's crying from laughter.
I watch them.
Maybe this is what joy looks like.
No expectations. No pressure.
Just now.
Just us.
And yet… as I look at them, laughter frozen in the air —
a sudden emptiness cuts through. Quiet. Subtle.
Like a heartbeat skipped.
I miss him.
But not him.
Not anymore.
And that's when I realize:
— Missing hits the hardest when you're happy…
and they're not there to see it.
That's when everything starts all over again.