ᴀᴅ ᴍᴇʟɪᴏʀᴀ ~ ᴅᴘꜱ (ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴍᴇᴇᴋꜱ)

34 - sincerely,

It had taken me an embarrassingly long time, but I'd finally done it.

I'd poured my heart out onto the all-too-small scrap of paper and finally recomposed myself. It wasn't enough— it could never be enough, honestly. How does one wrap up a thank-you, I'm-sorry, and good-bye together, all within a few measly inches of parchment? But, unfortunately, it would have to do.

Surprisingly, I don't feel especially sentimental on my march back to 3E. You'd think that, after spending most of my developmental years in the school, I'd have a bit of attachment to it, but honestly... I feel nothing. All the ache and pain living within me is tied to someone or something related to school, but not Constantine itself. I'd like to think of that as a good thing. For all the bumps and scrapes I got along the way, I managed to grow up on my own, without using the crutch of a familiar and reliable setting. Reliable is a step away from monotonous, after all, and I've come to despise the idea of mundane-ness. Maybe I'm in a bit of shock, too. That might explain it.

It's not like this letter will be my final goodbye. It'll be an intermission, yes, but I have no intention of going down without a fight. My parents' apathy may work in my favor for once, allowing me to slip letters and hushed phone calls between Steven and I. Perhaps I could even romanticize it into a positive thing rather than a grueling, shitty injustice.

That might be a stretch, though.

It's eerily quiet as I exit outside. I savor every step, listening to the crunch of snow as a trail of footsteps sprawls behind me. For a rare moment, the constant flurrying of flakes stops; it's a bit lonely, frankly. I never realized how accustomed I was to the soft, constant movement around me until it was gone.

-

At some point, while swimming through the toxic swamp of my brain, I ended up back at Maxine Hall. The quiet follows me inside as, past the creaking of wood accompanied by the shutting door, I'm left in silence.

My footsteps echo as I ascend the staircase, reverberating back against my chest. Flashbacks to Meek and I's quiet escape to Chris's party fill up the vacant space in my mind.

"...Could you be any louder?"

"You look great, by the way..."

My heart aches slightly, reminiscing on his awkward smile. The nervousness in his voice while he would complimented me never really went away, and now more than ever, I'd give anything to hear it again. All of the bumps, bruises, let downs, awkward moments, everything. I wouldn't change anything, of course; it just sucks to be so hopelessly out of control.

A series of muffled shouts snap me back to reality. I round a corner, putting me right in front of my dorm room. The argument is clear now, along with the voices involved...

Amy stands in the doorway of the room, yelling at something inside.

"Amy!" I call out. She snaps her head towards me, slightly startled, but immediately melts as she sees me. I rush to her and we meet in the middle, engulfing each other in a long-overdue hug.

"Holy shit, Ivy," she says, grabbing my shoulders and holding me a few inches away, "you're exactly who I was looking for—"

"I'm sorry," I cut in, already verging tears. "I'm so sorry Amy, for everything. I—I didn't mean to shut you out. I regret it, so much. I saw you suffering, and I didn't do anything. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't even... even..." My words fall flat. She pulls me back in, squeezing me tight. I feel something cylindrical thump against my back.