The breeze ruffles the blinds whenever a car passes by the house. I’m lying on the living room sofa with the television turned off, staring out the window. I haven’t left this spot in I don’t know how long. My phone has been buzzing with text messages all day. So I shut it off. It’s Sunday evening, the day after we released the lanterns. Everyone’s been trying to reach me, but I’m too embarrassed about what happened. I just want to stay wrapped up in my blanket for the rest of the weekend. That shouldn’t be too much to ask. Some silence from the world. My mother left me a cup of tea that’s gone cold on the coffee table, along with some fruit snacks and a candle that I just blew out. The smell of vanilla was giving me a headache.
“Call me if you need anything,” she said before she left the house. “There’s some brie in the fridge. Go easy on it.”
I finished the brie a few hours ago. I just woke up from a nap, and can’t seem to fall asleep again. Outside the window, the sky is a glowing amethyst, like the one my mom keeps on her nightstand. Through the blinds I watch the sky fade to the color of bruised skin as I hear the sound of sprinklers coming on on the lawns. Around six o’clock there’s a knock on the door. I wasn’t expecting any guests today, so I don’t bother answer it. But the knocking continues. I turn on my side, refusing to get up. Leave me alone. Then the lock clicks as someone opens the door.
I look up from the arm of the sofa as Mika appears in the living room.
She looks at me. Her voice is soft. “Hey. How have you been?”
I blink at her, wondering how she got in. “When did you get a key?”
“Your mom dropped it off. She said to check in on you at some point. Hope that’s okay.”
“I guess…”
I was hoping not to face her for a few days. I don’t want to talk about what came over me last night. Chasing after the lantern, as if it was Sam. Why can’t we pretend it didn’t happen? Spare me the intervention.
There are wrappers all over the coffee table, spilling to the carpet. “I wasn’t expecting company. Sorry it’s a mess.”
“That’s alright,” Mika says. “I should have called first.” She checks her phone and looks at me. “You know, the film festival is about to start soon. Why aren’t you dressed yet?”
“Because I’m not going.”
“Why not?”
“I’m just not in the mood,” I say. I pull the blanket up, hoping she takes the hint.
“You’re really gonna do that to Tristan?” Mika asks. She stands there, watching me pretend to sleep. “He’s probably waiting for you. Have you even checked your phone?”
“It’s not a big deal. He’ll understand.”
“So you’re going to lie on the sofa all night?”
I say nothing.
“I really think you should go. You made a promise.”
“I didn’t promise Tristan anything.”
Mika shakes her head. “Not to Tristan…” she says. “To Sam.”
We look at each other. My last phone call with him. That’s what she’s referring to. We haven’t had much time to talk about it yet. I could tell Mika wanted to bring it up last night on our way to the fields, but we couldn’t find time to ourselves. When I don’t respond, Mika comes around the sofa and sits on the coffee table, facing me. She touches my hand. “Julie—I didn’t come here to check up on you, okay? I came to make sure you went to the festival.”
“Why do you want me to go so much?”
“Because Sam’s right. It would be good for you.”
Why does everyone think they know what’s good for me? What about what I think?
“I told you—I’m not in the mood,” I say again. I pull my blanket up and lay my head back down.
Mika kneels down beside me. “Julie, I know you’re having a tough time, and I know this is hard for you. But you need to show Sam you’ll be okay without him. You need to go to the festival. So I’m not leaving here until you do.”
I look into her eyes and see she’s serious. Of course she is. This is about Sam.
“And don’t forget, I punched someone for you,” Mika says. “On more than one occasion. You owe me a favor.”
I groan. Because she’s right. I do owe her. “Alright. I’ll go.”
A moment later, I’m in my room as Mika helps me get ready. It feels wrong to look through my closet for a dress to wear, so Mika picks one for me. The plain red dress I wore to my aunt’s wedding a few years ago. I stare at myself in the desk mirror as she stands behind me, straightening my hair. Neither of us says much. I’m not sure why I need to go to this festival to prove anything, but I decide not to question it. While I’m still upset that Mika’s forcing me to do this, watching her brings back some memories.
“Do you remember the last time you did my hair?” I ask.
“Of course I do. It was for that lame dance.”
“It was pretty lame.”
It was winter formal of junior year. I asked Sam to go this time. The theme was famous couples, but nobody dressed up, including us. A group of drunk seniors kept requesting remixes of country songs, so we left early. The only good memory I have was before the dance when Mika showed up with her makeup bag and curling wand, and pretended she was my fairy godmother. The three of us ended the night in my living room, eating pizza. Maybe it was a fun night after all, now that I’m remembering it again.
But I know tonight won’t end up like that. Because it’s all wrong. Sam isn’t here. I’ll be going out with someone else. I don’t understand why Mika is forcing me to do this. I stare at her in the mirror. “Why am I the only one who thinks this is weird?” I finally ask.
“You’re not the only one,” she says without looking at me. “I think it’s weird, too.”