Two Years

It's been two years since K was killed in a car accident. It still seems like it could be yesterday.

I remember exactly what I was doing when I found out: I was working at the cafe, and it was a Saturday. An insanely busy Saturday, and I was in the middle of squeezing oranges for orange juice when my boss pushed the phone at me, understandably frustrated that someone was insisting that they talk to me in the middle of our rush. And when I picked it up, Peek was in the other end, and she told me that K, her very best friend, had been driving home with another friend, and that her car had been hit by another. And K was killed instantly.

I didn't believe her. I think I actually asked her if she was kidding.

And then I didn't know what to do. I think I squeezed another two halves of oranges, in shock, on autopilot, until Mel saw my face from the till and asked me what happened. And then I told her, and I told my boss, and I called my house and bro picked me up to take me to Peek's house.

And now she's still gone, and I can still remember her face, her smile, the sound of her laugh. I remember meeting her in October of 2002 and being intimidated by her force of personality, and then years later, talking to her on the phone when she had somehow contracted chicken pox and was quarantined at home, her telling me how much her pox itched, and me forbidding her to scratch them, especially the one on her forehead. And then 10 minutes later, she called back and said "I scratched it, and now I kinda wish I hadn't" and then laughing that laugh of hers that told you she didn't really wish she hadn't at all. She never got herself into any trouble she didn't think was worth getting into, and I wish so much she was here, but since that can't be, I can only love that I still remember.