“So how long has it been?” Mitch referred to how long it had been since he and I had last talked.
Of course I remembered. But I couldn’t believe he didn’t. I took a deep breath. It was hard for me to think about it again.
“Graduation party last year,” I told him slowly.
“Oh, that’s right,” he said normally, but then he apparently remembered what had happened that night and so he said again, in a completely different tone, “oh, that’s right.”
“Yeah, you remember,” I stated the obvious.
Things were quiet for a moment.
Then the movie broke the silence, This is an ‘81 Honda! How dare you!
“So, uhm,” Mitch stuttered, “what exactly happened after you stormed out of that room?”
Another silence. Then I sighed.
“Uhm, Mitch, I don’t really like to talk about it,” I shifted my position.
“But why can’t I just know?” he was curious.
“Because if you’re apart of it…” I trailed off, “I just don’t want anything to start.”
“Like?” he prompted.
I was hesitant before shrugging and saying, “I don’t know.”