Finding Home (Complete)

4. Catching Up.

"Thank for not hating us forever, Han." Curtis handed me a Coke after popping the tab open with a hiss. I welcomed it freely while simultaneously wrapping him in a bear hug. He has a cheesy, toothy smile that he's had since I met him. It reminds me of why our group of friends have never faltered in all the years, no matter the challenges.

Curtis and Whitney have been my best friends since we started middle school together. We started out at three different elementary schools but had the same homeroom come sixth grade. We were all awkward to start with, and by chance, we all had older siblings that left a mark on teachers we were starting to see. We were thankfully there for each other to make names for ourselves. Curtis was a science genius, and Whitney and I were fluent in history and language arts so we made the "fearsome threesome" as people referred to us as. We all bombed math, but with three brains working together, we made do. We did everything together, and there was hardly a time in the past fifteen years that we weren't in the same place all together.

I had alienated myself from them after my parents died because I knew they'd never condone what I was doing. They knew me too well and I knew keeping them close would only feed my guilt. It wasn't until I was sober that I realized how important they were to me. Fixing my broken bridges with them became as detrimental as fixing my relationship with Liam. Luckily, they forgave me.

"I could never hate you guys. I'm just thankful you didn't cut ties with me after I fell off the map." I really am remorseful. So many people at the Kaleida Center lost friends they had their whole lives over their demons, while I managed to keep both of mine. I was thankful they understood, and never judged after I opened up to them. They accepted my amends letters and subsequent phone calls with open arms.

"You had it made in Boston! Whitney and I were taking bets on if you were going to set up camp there... like, maybe it'd be too hard to come back here. Or, you know, you wouldn't want to..." A flash of nervousness dances across his face, almost regretful of bringing anything up. He took an extended swig from his can of Sprite, shifting his eyes, an obvious cue he was looking for a way to change the topic.

"Rule number one of Hannah Mitchell's return: don't be afraid to talk about or ask about my process, what happened, and the liking." I offer a wide smile, letting him know I was fine talking about everything. "I wouldn't be back if I wasn't ready. Promise. Now tell me who won the bet!"

"I totally did! Curtis owes me a week's worth of Tim Horton's and a car wash." Whitney gloats, making her arrival known. She pulls me into a rib crushing hug that almost has me clawing at her blonde tresses to cease. It causes us all to laugh, and for the first time, I feel like I have them back, back to how we were before my parents died even. When they visited in Boston, they were thankful to see me and tried their best, but I could tell they kept reservations, scoping out my reactions. I never blamed them and am hoping we can return to the fearsome threesome era of our friendship.

"I'm dying for an iced cappuccino. Boston has Dunkin for days, but it's no match for my Timmy's!" It's true. Bostonian's are addicted to their Dunkin, they literally build them across the street from each other. I made do, but you're not a true Western New Yorker if Tim's doesn't run in your veins.

"I'm surprised you didn't demand Liam grab you some, I call for an intervention tomorrow morning, and a full day at the Gallaria Mall!" Whitney winces a little at her use of the 'i' word.

I love them both, but will wring her and Curtis's necks if hey keep acting so bashful. Nothing about Whit and C have ever been close to timid, and I wasn't going to let it start now because of me.

"Not you too!" I groan. "Like I told Curtis, you don't have to watch what you say around me. I'll be more offended if you do. Prime example: don't act like you aren't bummed Liam didn't stock the fridge with beer, because it's okay. I expect him to treat me like I'm glass, but not you guys." I feel like I'm pleading. I really hope they can get comfortable, although I knew before I planned on returning to expect this at first. I was a wreck when I left, not everyone here saw my progress everyday, messy Hannah is still an image fresh in their minds.