By Victor Li
Edited by Hillary Qi and Alloe Mak

You know what he sent me recently? That photo where we’re all standing on the dock looking at the water before we left the cottage. Then he said—he said “Guess which one’s you and which one’s Alan.” I guessed wrong, but—is this bus driver crazy? He almost fuckin’ hit that guy. Ok. Anyways, the back of your heads look the exact same. So really it was a fifty-fifty chance.

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I think I remember it pretty well? When you come down on that gravel path and see it all for the first time, the cabins across the lake with the fishing boats and the floating docks. Crazy that people just live there, no? And I know nobody else saw it ’cause I’d wake up first since I was in the big living room with no curtains, but this haze covered everything in the morning, like thick smoke, and it’d fade away slowly when the sun would come up and then the lake would turn into a mirror. You could see every little detail of the sky in the water. 

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Fuck, you just reminded me of something. Do you remember that one night, right, I think the one after we got there, and we all agreed to go down to the dock and look at the stars? I really wanted to see them, especially ’cause Mohan said—I haven’t talked to him in a while, now that I think about it—that the meteor shower should still be going on. But then, yeah, yeah you remember, she fuckin’ vomited all over the floor ’cause she drank too much, started bawling her eyes out and shit. Then Mohan and Alan stayed with her to clean up and make sure she was all good, and I think you were there too. And then it was just me who went down to the dock and… I don’t even remember. But I fucking hated her after that.

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I mean, we were all friends, but I didn’t know the rest of them that well. I didn’t even see a shooting star. Doesn’t help that every other night was cloudy as shit too. The stars were still beautiful to see, but you know. It was ruined.

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It’s not selfish. I know you two were close—you don’t talk anymore, right? Okay, good—but let’s be honest, what the fuck was she doing drinking like that? On the way home she was sitting in front of me, singing along to whatever was playing on the stereo like nothing had happened, and all I could think was like, what is wrong with you? Did that shit every night too. Never said thank you, nothing to nobody. 

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I had this image in my head from that one scene in, uh, I don’t remember the movie anymore. But it’s the one we all watched together over winter break, where there’s this wide shot that follows the main characters walking into the forest clearing and the sky pulls into view, and it’s beautiful and they trace out the constellations one by one with their fingers—I thought that when I would see something like that in real life, it would be like a new beginning for me. I really wanted that moment. And then someone else took it from me for a shit reason.

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Yeah, someone told me after. I don’t think it changes anything though. It’s not like any of us were perfect people. But we all tried our best to keep our shit together. 

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It’s not like I actually care that much now. I honestly don’t even remember what she looks like anymore. 

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Yeah. It’s all behind us. Maybe I should talk to her again. Probably doesn’t even remember me. What do you think?

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Maybe.

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Your stop’s next, right? I remember. The one with the scratched-out stop sign.

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At least some things haven’t changed, right?

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Yeah.

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See you around. Keep in touch, yeah? 

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Okay.