Reuniting with Lily

Chapter 2

Lily didn’t let go of Maya’s hand as they moved through the hallway. Every step felt like walking into an old photo album.

Maya ran her fingers along the side table by the stairs. She could almost feel the scraps of paper she and Lily used to hide there — silly notes, tiny drawings, and even love letters they never had the courage to send. There was still a faint scratch from the time they tried to build a cardboard castle and failed miserably.

When they reached the kitchen, Lily finally let go of her hand and threw open the pantry door with dramatic flair.

“Guess what I still keep stocked just for you?” she announced, her eyes sparkling.

She pulled out a bright red bag of kettle-cooked salt and vinegar chips.

Maya’s jaw dropped. Then she let out a shaky laugh that turned into a sound halfway between a giggle and a sob. Her hand flew up to her chest as she felt tears sting her eyes.

“Lily… you didn’t have to…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Lily stepped forward, serious now, and hugged her again. “Of course I did,” she said firmly. “I missed my best friend. You’re the only person in the world who would finish these with me without gagging.”

Maya laughed again, hugging her tighter. The smell of Lily’s vanilla shampoo wrapped around her, and for a moment, she felt like she was seventeen again, hiding in this kitchen after a bad day.

They slid down to the floor and sat against the kitchen island, opening the chips and a couple of sodas like they used to after late-night study sessions. The floor was cold under Maya’s legs, but she didn’t care.

Lily told her about the town — Mrs. Jensen finally retired from the library, and their old math teacher had opened a tiny farm stand on the highway, selling weird-shaped carrots and homemade jam. Maya listened, laughing, feeling warmth slowly come back to her bones.

When it was Maya’s turn, she shared small pieces of her life in Chicago — the art classes she tried to love, the endless gray winters, the noise that never seemed to stop. She left out the parts where she felt lost, where she missed having someone know her completely.

Lily disappeared for a second and returned holding an old, colorful shoebox decorated with magazine cutouts and glitter stickers.

“Oh no,” Maya groaned, recognizing it immediately.

“Oh yes,” Lily said, dropping it dramatically into Maya’s lap.

Maya opened it and gasped. Inside were photos, notes, old concert wristbands, and silly sketches. There was even a napkin from the first “grown-up” dinner they had at the local diner when they were sixteen, with ketchup stains and all.

She picked up a photo of them in matching tie-dye shirts, ice cream smeared across their faces, their smiles huge and real. Her thumb moved over the picture slowly.

“I forgot how much of me was here,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lily put her hand over Maya’s and squeezed. “You never really left,” she said. “You’ve always been here, whether you knew it or not.”

Maya swallowed hard, unable to answer. She looked around the kitchen again, seeing not just a room, but pieces of her old self she hadn’t felt in so long.

Later, after Lily cooked dinner — a simple pasta with too much cheese, just the way they liked it — they carried their tea to the porch.

The sunset spread pink and orange across the sky, turning the clouds into soft cotton candy.

They settled into the big wicker chairs facing the backyard. Lily pulled a blanket over her legs, tucking herself in like she used to during their summer sleepovers.

Maya leaned her head back, breathing in the warm evening air. She watched the wind move through the tall grass and the old oak tree where they used to hang a hammock. She could almost hear their teenage voices, whispering about their dream colleges, and what they thought growing up would feel like.

She closed her eyes, and for a moment, the years between now and then disappeared.

Lily started telling a story about a horrible camping trip she had gone on with her coworkers last year. Maya tried to focus, but her mind kept drifting — to the porch railings, to the crickets, to memories she had locked away.

And always, without fail, her thoughts turned back to Ethan.

Even after all this time, just thinking of him made her breath catch. She pictured him in some big city apartment, wearing crisp shirts, laughing with important people, living a life she could only imagine.

Why did the thought of him still make her chest feel tight? Why did she still imagine the shape of his smile?

She opened her eyes when Lily suddenly stopped talking. Maya turned and saw that familiar glint in Lily’s eyes — the one that always meant she was about to spill some big news.

“What?” Maya asked, instantly suspicious.

Lily bit her lip to hide a smile. “Okay, don’t freak out…”

“Oh no, that’s a terrible way to start a sentence,” Maya groaned, sitting up.

Lily giggled, curling her toes under the blanket. “I just… I think you should know before you hear it from anyone else.”

Maya felt her stomach twist. “Lily…”

Lily took a deep breath. “Ethan’s coming home.”

The words hit Maya like a cold wave. Her fingers dug into the armrest, her whole body tense.

She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Her mind exploded with old images: Ethan’s crooked grin, his messy hair after soccer practice, his easy kindness. It felt like all the walls she had carefully built around her heart cracked at once.

Lily went on, completely clueless about the storm she had set off. “I don’t know exactly when. Sometime soon — probably this week. I’m so excited! I haven’t seen him in forever.”

Maya finally forced her voice to work. “Soon?” she managed to whisper.

Lily nodded eagerly. “Yeah! Isn’t it great? You guys can catch up too! It’ll be like a big family reunion.”

Maya tried to smile, but it felt wobbly and weak. “Yeah… great,” she echoed.

Her mind was spinning too fast to stop. She had come here to find herself again, not to face the one person who could unravel her with just one look.

But deep inside, under all the panic, there was a small flicker of something else — something warm and dangerous.

Hope.

Maya took a shaky breath, staring out into the yard. The sky was darkening into a deep blue, the stars starting to peek through.

Lily, still buzzing with excitement, pulled her blanket tighter and leaned back. “It’s going to be so fun, you’ll see,” she said, her voice dreamy.

Maya nodded, though she couldn’t find the right words.

Ethan’s coming home.

And she had no idea if she was ready to face him once again.