"enough is enough. you can stop waiting to breathe."

***

West didn't show up the next day—or the day after that.

***

I'm sitting alone in a little ice cream shop, waiting for Ocean. She'd calmed down a bit by now. Not fully recovered, but getting better—if better is even the right word to use. Less crying, though. Less crying, more going out, more talking. Dylan's been spending a lot of time with me, and I am thankful for that. Honestly. I know for a fact that I might do something stupid if I'm left alone. It's crazy how dangerously smart your own thoughts are, and how easily they can twist you.

     I haven't seen Xander since that day in English class. I've tried everything—texting, calling, going to his house—but I think it's best to give him space. He needs it as much as I need mine. After all, we lost a friend. Not a penny on the street, or a marble in the ocean, whatever it is. You don't have thousands of memories with a penny. You don't spend the first day of freshman year with it nor have late night conversations with it until you both fall asleep. You don't hug it, feeling its warmth against your body. We lost a friend. We lost West.

     Space is different for every individual. I'm learning that. But, I almost never listen to myself. Yesterday, I taped a sticky note under Xander's skateboard on his front porch, asking him to let me know how he's doing. I know the chances of him seeing it is close to nothing, and knowing the kind of person Xander is, he might just throw it out or something, but it was worth a try.

     Sometimes, I don't know where our friendship lies. We have deep conversations on one day, then don't talk for days. It's a blurry line. But, I need to make sure that he's okay.

***

My phone rings as Ocean walks through the door, earphones in her ears. She looks gorgeous. She always does, to be honest, but today there's something different in her eyes—sorrow and a hint of spark, like she just achieved something. They're brighter than usual, too. Ocean blue, matching her name.

     She's getting better. I like that word now.

     Relief is evident on her face as she takes a big step to hug me. I hold my phone out, Dylan's name on the screen. She gives me a smile, then walks over to the counter to pick out her ice cream. With the phone pressed against my ear, I hear his voice.

     "Hey," he says. I wish we'd skip all the formalities. This is not like us. "How have you been?"

     I hold a breath. "I'm okay. Dylan I—"

     "They're about to empty West's house," he cuts me off. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to cut you off but it's killing me and I don't know if there's a good time to say something like that."

     "Oh."

     "Yeah," he stops for a second, waiting for my response. I don't know what he's expecting, though. For me to break down and start sobbing every time West's name comes up in the conversation? Tempting, but I'm holding it in.

     "Go on," I tell him.

     "His uncle called my dad and asked for our help in packing up some stuff. I think we're in charge of West's."

     "I don't get it."

     "Well, I guess his family—at least the uncle himself—won't be able to come around anytime soon. They live in another state, anyway," he pauses. "And the house is getting emptied, so he just wants to make sure that nothing needed is getting thrown away. Anyway, I talked to Xander and he's okay with it—"

     Wait, Xander?

     "—You and Ocean should come, too. I mean, you guys don't have to. I know it's a lot and things have been extra weird lately between all of us, but I guess—oh, I don't know, I'm rambling now. I, uh—"

     "We'll be there."

     "Are you sure?"

     "Dylan, we'll be there."

     "Okay," he says. "Well, thank you for stopping my ramble there. Can we meet in like, 2 hours?"

     "Sounds good."

     I can picture a smile on his face, and it creeps up on mine too.

     "Ann?" he says before hanging up.

     "Yeah?"

     "It'll be okay."

     I think about his words and hang on to them for as long as I can.

***

Ocean and I talk. And talk. And talk. About anything. Everything. I tell her about a song that I heard on the radio the other day, and she tells me about how Lion, her 4 year-old calico Turkish Angora, apparently helped her find her old polaroid camera. She lost it a few months ago. I smile as she talks, and laugh at her corny, corny jokes—not because I should, or because it's the polite thing to do as a friend, but because seeing her slowly become herself again gives me a warm feeling. I'm glad one of us is blooming.

     We head out as the clock reads half past three. It'll be dark soon. The days are shorter now that it's coming into winter. Sydney is lovely at this hour, where the sky is slowly transitioning into another shade and the birds are flying back to their nests in groups. From one street to the other, the sound of car engines fills my ears. This is home. Yet, it doesn't feel like it. Not without West.

     I take small steps. It's like I'm trying to remember something that I've forgotten, swaying slow to let the seconds pass. Anything to keep me away from facing the truth—that this is really happening, and that we're actually on our way to his house to collect his things instead of seeing him. What an odd feeling there is in my chest. It's heavy. I ignore it.

     Around the corner is the neighbourhood park. Ocean and I stop to catch our breaths. It's completely empty, so I sit on one of the swings while Ocean runs to a nearby grocery store to get us some drinks. I let myself lazily sway, looking up at the clouds. It's going to rain again tonight. I know it will. It's been like this for the past few days, sunshine during the day and thunder at night. I don't blame it, though. My mind's been a constant whirl of hurricane, too.

     The wind blows, causing leaves to fall out from nearby trees. I find this quiet amusing, actually, watching them gently fall lifelessly then getting swept away to go to another place. I can't help but wonder what it's like to fly freely, anywhere and everywhere while discovering places you've never seen. Places you've never even thought of.

     Ocean returns with two bottles of soft drinks. She throws me one, then sits on the edge of the slide, almost tripping. Clumsy Ocean, typical. I shake my head and pop the can open as she mutters a few curse words.

     "Shit!" she says, jumping up and inspecting her back. "It's wet!"

     "It's pretty windy," I tell her. "Your jeans should dry as long as you stay up."

     She rolls her eyes. "Shut up."

     I laugh. She gives me a glare, before going to the top of the slide and standing there.

     "Come on, wind!" she jokes. "Bring it on!"

     And just like that, the wind blows stronger than ever. Like a slap on the face from mother nature, and Ocean looks at me wide-eyed, grip still tightly holding the metal pole of the slide.

     "You tempted it," I say.

     "That was quick!"

     "Instant!"

     She looks up, holds her can of soda into the air as if to make a cheer. Then, she shouts to the open space, "Thanks!"

     We laugh. It starts out as a chuckle first, before turning into a full-on gasping for air kind of laugh session. After a while, I can't even remember what we're laughing about, but I don't care. I can't feel my face and my stomach hurt like crazy. Ocean is slapping her hands together like a seal and is on the verge of choking on her drink. But even so, we don't stop.

     Because in this moment, I feel like I've just woken up from a dream, or a trance. I've been struck. By what? I don't know. I feel alive.I let myself be selfish and forget about everything that's happened and closed my eyes.

     I'm getting better, too.