"You should see him, Angelica!" Natasha cried out happily as she flopped back onto her bed, "Oh, he writes and he writes and he writes! I have so many letters and poems he's written me."
He writes and he writes and he writes!
Angelica bit back the tears and bitterness. The anger. The jealousy.
"That's wonderful." Angelica replied, hoping the tone of her voice would be mistaken for bad phone reception. "I'll have to read some of those sometime."
"You must! They're all so wonderful!" There's several seconds of silence, finally followed by, "I love him."
"You barely know him, Nat. He's an exchange student who came here in August."
"Six months is plenty." Natasha argues, her words coming out oddly. Probably the peach bubblegum she always chews. "So," she begins, dragging out the o, "Got a date for the Valentine's Day dance?"
I would, she almost says. Fighting it is so hard. But they weren't together anymore. He didn't matter. He shouldn't matter.
"Nah, I go solo every year. It's my trademark. Gotta stay true to my brand." Angelica says, forcing a casual demeanor.
"Okay, have fun dancing alone." Natasha chuckles. There's no malice, there never is. Natasha wouldn't say that if she knew about-
No. Now was not the time to sink back into the feelings of last February. Now was the time to be supportive.
"I will. Have fun dancing with Anthony."
"Will you ever get his name right?"
"Probably not." Angelica says, the smile on her face bittersweet. "I have to go. It's almost time for dinner. My sisters will be wondering where I am."
Natasha and Angelica say their goodbyes before hanging up, and Angelica sets her phone down on her vanity. She stands and makes her way over to her bed. She kneels next to the foot of the bed and reaches under it, pulling out a small box. Her fingers hover over it for a few moments before she opens it, all the memories of last year and the year before flooding right back, causing her heart to ache terribly. She pulls out letter after letter, picture after picture, trinkets and memoirs, all symbols of the time she spent with the man she once loved. As she looked through the box, tears falling down her cheeks, she wonders if Natasha will end up like her.
She finds her answer a week later on the floor of the college restroom closest to where the dance was being held. Natasha, makeup ruined by tears and snot, brokenly explains that the boy she loves, the one who writes, has someone else. Angelica's heart breaks at the sight. She helps Natasha to her feet and cleans her face.
"I'm so sorry, Nat." Angelica whispers as she holds her friend close, "You deserve better than him. So much better."
"Does it get better?" Natasha mumbles.
"It does. It gets much better than scum like him."
"No. Does it get better? The pain, I mean." When Angelica doesn't respond, Natasha continues, "I know about last year, Angie. I should have been there for you, but you wanted space, so I gave you space. But I always knew."
Angelica's grip goes lax for a moment before tightening, and Natasha can feel tears on her shoulder.
"Eventually," Angelica finally says, pulling back to wipe her eyes. "One day, we won't even remember their names."
"I hope so."
Angelica studies the broken expression on Natasha's face. She sees so much of herself in Natasha's face. She knows how Natasha feels. And she knows she's going to be looking for ways to make the man who hurt her feel worse. But now was the time for mending wounds, not making fresh ones. So Angelica cleans both of their faces one more time, reapplies a bit of her and Natasha's makeup, and then takes Natasha's hand.
"Let's go dance. You don't need him to be happy. Let's show him that." Angelica offers with a warm smile.
Natasha smiles back, her eyes tearing up again, and nods, not trusting her voice. Together they walk back into the party, and dance the night away, uncaring of those who see.
For the first time in a year, Angelica feels whole. With Natasha's hand in hers, she feels like she's finally getting better.
"A year and some love." Angelica says as she walks Natasha back to her dorm.
"What?"
"That's what it takes for it to get better. A year and some love."
Natasha looks confused, but her expression slowly morphs into one of understanding. She tightens her grip on Angelica's hand.
"Sounds good to me."