Finding a feeling long forgotten

I fiddled with the ring-box in my pocket, thinking, remembering.

"Oh."

Turning around, I saw her. "Hi Sarah."

She looked down, her hands fidgeting around the bouquet. "I wasn't expecting anyone to be here," she softly said.

"You're not the only one who called her grandma."

A hint of a smile touched her lips as she pushed some strands of hair behind her ear. I turned back, brushing off some imagined dirt from the gravestone. "I'll see you at school."

I took a couple of steps when she said, "Wait." Stopping, I glanced over my shoulder. "I'll just be a moment."

Memories of such similar scenes played back through my head as I watched her repeat a routine stretching back a decade. She finished her ritual and looked over at me, with eyes tinged by moisture, familiar eyes.

"Sarah," I said. "I've, I've been thinking." I paused, half-expecting a snide remark; she kept silent. "This is our last year at high school and we're probably gonna go to different universities. I don't want us to leave on bad terms."

She didn't meet my eyes as she replied, "I didn't think we were on bad terms."

"Are we on good terms?" I ask, stepping forward.

After shrugging and shuffling her feet, she said, "We're not on bad terms."

My shoulders sunk and I asked, "Then why do I feel like we are?" I rubbed the bridge of my nose, waiting for no reply before continuing. "It seems like all we do is fight at home and avoid each other at school. I don't know when it changed, or why, but I know I used to feel that you were my best friend, and I know I miss that."

Letting out a long, shaky breath, I turn around, my cheeks warming. "I miss feeling like I mattered to you," I said. After blinking a few times, I took a step forward.

"Wait."

A beat passed.

"I miss that too."