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Jasmine heard the door knock, and the ticking in her head soon went to the back of her mind.

Irene’s voice calling into the house soon confirmed that Jasmine wasn’t just hearing things. She jumped up, almost tripping on the carpet as she ran around the couch, before she reached the front door. She grabbed the knob, tried to turn it. Fuck, it was locked. She fumbled with the little locking in the middle, trying to get a grip on it despite her hands slipping whenever she tried to wrap her fingers around it. Goddammit, why was it suddenly so hard to open the door now that she needed to open it quickly? She grabbed the knob, accidentally moving her hand too far and hitting it against the wood behind the knob. She moved her hand away from the door, shaking it as she felt the pain throb through her hand. Why couldn’t she open it? How was it so hard for her to open a door? What would Irene think? She could likely see her silhouette through the door’s green tinted window. Was she laughing at her? Would she mock her for it? Would her day off be ruined because Irene wouldn’t let her imperfections go?

Wait, no, she was panicking, wasn’t she? Her best friend was on the other side of the door and here she was, worrying about how long she was taking and her issues with the door and if Irene was mocking her for this. She took a breath. It was going to be fine. Irene did things like this on a daily basis, so she’d emphasise. Besides, they friends. Best friends, even, ever since they were put next to each other in middle school. She wouldn’t mock her for it. She’d smile. She’d laugh, and Jasmine would laugh with her. And then she’d take her around the house and then they’d watch Sherlock and then Jasmine would take her to the park she had always loved and then they would go back to her house and then she’d sleep over, sharing with Jasmine what she had learned about her fellow classmates. It didn’t matter if she mocked her or not, everything was still going to be fine.

So, slowly, she twisted the lock at the end of the doorknob and opened the wooden door. After that, she focused on the lock of the flyscreen door and pushed it up, opening the second door. She then looked up off the lock, and looked Irene Djezari in the eyes, smiling. From the heart, although she probably already knew that.

The two, again, had met during middle school. It was the first day when the English teacher had decided to place them both together. They shared idle talk with each other when the teacher allowed them to do work, and when the lunch bell rang, Irene followed her to where Jasmine sat. They talked, again, sharing each other’s lives; and every day after that, they both went to the same place and talked, sometimes about other students and sometimes about how strict their teachers were and really, whatever just came into their mind. Other people soon joined them, and she talked with them, but nobody measured up to the girl who followed her out of class one day and just started talking.

Her first friend. Her best friend.

So when she saw her standing in the doorway in front of her house, she greeted her in the best way she knew how, jumping down from the little step and hugging her. She was warm, it felt… somewhat nice, in a way. Comfy. Welcoming. Not much different than a regular hug but slightly better, in a way.

“Hey, Rene,” she said, smiling as she held her.
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Oh, it's so sad to think about the good times, you and I... · Memories from the Past