Our Little Melody

I don't know what to do.

I left the dorm for food and the bathroom. Naomi and I don't talk much. She's always out with Dylan and Ryan.

"Do you like him?" she asks through the darkness one night.

"Like who?" I ask, rolling over to face her. She turns on the light.

"Ryan. Do you like him? I've known him for a couple years and he never dates."

"I don't know." I admit. "We were best friends from birth until age ten. We were inseparable. Our parents were too, and then bam, Dad gets a new job and I'm whisked away to New York City." Tears slide down my cheeks. "I saw him once after that, and then never again."

She eyes my carefully. "He's sweet." She says.

"I know." I mutter.

"You know, Dylan said they moved out of their house a month after you did because Ryan was so depressed seeing the for sale sig in your yard. He drives past your house every day when he was there. Whenever we can't find him, he'll be sitting at the park down the street. He has picture of you and him as kids in his wallet, saved on his phone. I like he loves you. He doesn't talk about you much, and whenever you're mentioned, he changes the subject. He's here studying music. He loves music. He doesn't let any of us see his songs."

"He has pictures of me?" I whisper.

"Yes." She says. "And I'm guessing you have pictures of him?"

I nod. "I have a whole diary about him." I whisper.

"Why don't you go to him? He doesn't sleep much. He's secretive too, and kinda a loner."

"That doesn't sound like the Ryan I know."

"That's the Ryan I know. Dylan says he hasn't been the real Ryan since you left."

"I haven't been the same either." I whisper.

"I'm taking you to talk to him." she stands up. She's swearing white spandex and a black tank top, and I'm wearing black spandex and a white tank top.

I panic. "No." I say. "I'm not talking to him."

"Fine." She says, and she walks out of the dorm with her key.

I sigh, relieved, and pull my phone out.

I wish I had a friend to text.

I have a text from Marissa.

Marissa: have u seen Ryan yet

Marissa: you need to keep me updated!

Me: yes I've seen him. my roommate is dating Dylan. I haven't spoken to him

Marissa: why not?

Me: I'm shy

Marissa: bull! Your scared!

Me: that too

Marissa: just go talk to him. It's Ryan, not Jesus.

He's my Jesus, I think bitterly, and I realize that yes, I do like him, or I did.

Me: I know

Me: what happens if he's my Jesus though?

The dorm room opens and Naomi walks back in. She sits down on the bed.

"You should talk to him." she says.

I shake my head and she sighs.

"Well there's a carnival this Saturday and you're coming with me because Ryan and Dylan are performing." She says. "Is that fair?"