Our indelible pasts|✔

thirteen - kiana

"HI. YOU'RE KIANA Brooklyn yeah?" A guy I'm sure I've seen from a few of my lectures approaches me.

I nod as I shield my eyes from the sun. "Yup, that's me."

"Oh, great." He says before reaching into his back pocket. "Professor Chester from Psychology 205 said to give this to you."

My breath hitches when I hear his name and the rest of his sentence drowns out in my head.

Through my shaky vision, I watch as he hands me a sealed envelope which I eye suspiciously before taking it within my shaky hands.

The envelope has the school's logo on it but it doesn't take a genius to know that this isn't an official school newsletter or anything of the sort. Fearing the content in it, I stare at it, pinching myself internally hoping that this is just some messed up dream that I'll wake up from soon.

"Are you okay?" The boy is still here.

I look up at him, startled, and nod my head a bit too hard. "Yeah. Everything's um...everything's great."

He smiles at me and I can tell he's not buying it but I'm grateful he doesn't push it. "Okay." He pockets his hands. "It was nice meeting you. I'm Kayden by the way."

I try my best to smile a genuine smile at him but I probably look like an idiot. "Thank you, Kayden." I say. "I'm Kiana." I add but quickly bring a palm to my face. "Shit, you already knew that."

His soft laugh sounds through the air. "Yeah, I did. And no problem." He nods his head toward the letter in my hand. "Well, I have a class to get to so I'll see you again. I hope." He laughs awkwardly, running a hand over the cornrows on his head.

"Yeah, maybe." I wave as he turns to leave.

I'm quick to look back down at the letter and my hands are not-so-surprisingly still trembling. I haven't attended Professor Chester's class for two weeks now. I don't even know how I could have. There's no way I can be able to handle seeing him again after what happened. There's no way I can go through his lectures normally.

He must have noticed my absence. And I bet this letter is his way of telling me to come back to class. This isn't good.

I clutch onto the letter like if I let it go it will somehow cause an explosion, before taking a deep breath and making my way to the car, trying not to freak out about this. I need a distraction...now.

***

"Kiana!" Wyatt exclaims when he opens the door. "Come in, come in." The instant I hear the slur in his voice, I regret coming back here. But it's too late to back out now.

"Isn't it a bit too early to be drunk?"

"Hey, you know what they say. It's already five o'clock somewhere." He laughs trying to hand me his glass.

I shake my head, refusing it. "I didn't come here to get drunk with you, Wyatt."

He looks me in the eyes deeply. "Oh really? Then why are you here?"

"I came to buy a few joints."

"Only to buy?" He moves closer to me, fanning my face with the stench of hard liquor, and I find myself moving away from him.

I nod my head sternly.

"Oh, come on. We had so much fun last time."

"I have a class in like fifteen minutes." I lie.

He scans my face for a moment then takes another sip of his bourbon. "How many do you want?"

I'm taken aback by his reaction. I guess he's not yet drunk enough to refuse to listen to me. "Just four."

He stalks off to go get me some and my eyes wander to the sofa...

A warm tear making its way down my cold cheek snaps me back to reality and I'm quick to wipe it away, like as if doing so will erase what happened.

***

When I get home, the first thing I do is light up a joint. I have every intention of smoking the whole thing...and maybe another–in one sitting. The faster it hits, and the longer it stays in my system, the better. I can't be sober today. Or tomorrow as a matter of fact.

Halfway through the joint, my eyes gravitate toward the envelope on the table in front of me. It stares back at me, almost as if the damn thing is taunting me itself.

A whirlwind of anger and fear swirls within me as I slowly rip the envelope open and unfold the paper I find inside it, and my hands start to tremble again.

"Kiana, you've been missing my lectures for too long now. I want you back in class tomo-..." I slowly read aloud the first few words, trying my best to choke back my tears. But as my eyes skim through the next words, I'm unable to find my voice.

And just for not coming to class, I want you in my office tomorrow at 8pm. I have so much more in store for you this time.

'I have so much more in store for you this time.' The words ring repeatedly in my head as I grab a bottle of gin and begin to down it.