Together (Micro-Fiction Monday)

She lost sight of her cap as it soared through the air, unable to identify it among the hundreds of twins it shared in the auditorium. She managed to catch one as it came down--whether or not it was the same one she threw was another matter entirely.

She couldn't see him through the crowd of cheering graduates. It wasn't until the majority of the teenagers had cleared out—off to find their friends and families and take thousands of pictures to remember this once-in-a-lifetime night—that she found him, off to the side, slouched up against the wall with his cap in his hands.

She approached him hesitantly. She didn't know exactly what to say; neither did he. By week's end, they would find themselves on opposite sides of the globe; him overseas, studying abroad; her in the country's capital, partaking in the internship she had dreamed of for the past four years. Both were happy with their decisions--but not with the separation they brought.

They said goodbye that night, their words stiff and awkward. They grew apart the way most high school acquaintances do: gradually, until suddenly they couldn't recall the last conversation they shared. Years passed, and although the relationship was never truly forgotten, the hectic nature of their individual lives left little time for reminiscing.

A decade passed, and the auditorium was once again filled—but instead of wild teenagers, grown adults stood milling around, talking and laughing and catching up, as old friends do.

She saw him again, slouched up against that same wall. She was more confident now—her words less stiff, her movements lacking their former hesitance. She approached him with ease; he straightened as she did.

The two shared that night together. And as their classmates talked about the happenings of the last ten years, they came together as though no time had passed at all.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne