"So, while we're waiting for our food to arrive, want to plan how we're gonna confess to them?" Mikayla asks me.
"Sure, I guess. I'll start first?" I answered her
"Yeah, obviously."
"Alright, so first, I'll ask her if we can go to a place somewhere we only knew ever since we were kids, maybe I'll bring her either to the pier where we all used to hang out or at the old school we used to go to before uni. I'm still not sure though."
"Hey, that's why we're here, right? Talking about confessing and, other things, you know?"
"Yeah, I guess so, but can you pick between the two places I mentioned? I need your opinion on it," I say as I chuckle.
"Uhm, I think the pier is more beautiful than the old school you guys went to. Why in the fuck are you going to bring your potential girlfriend to an old school you guys went to, again, as I said, don't, well I did not say don't but I will say don't because it's a bad idea. Just bring her to the pier where we all used to hang out."
"Ehhh, you're probably right." I say, "How about you?"
"Well, I'm thinking of going to a park with Karah," She answered my question without hesitation or problems with it, "If you think about it, parks are beautiful. Especially in the fall season. October."
"You're sounding too invested in your fantasies, Mikayla." I tease, letting out a bit of laughter as well.
"Shut up, the only time I've been invested in my own fantasies was when I was in love with Katherine, you know?"
"Still, though. Parks are just, chef's kiss." She says as she pinched her fingers and kisses them, making a loud pop noise.
As we talked and talked while waiting for our food to arrive, everything was moving so fast, like, the Flash or something, are we in the speed force? I thought, but I guess time really moves fast if you're talking with someone that's near and dear to you. Especially with a close friend. It gives me comfort. But damn, I really wished Marco was here. He would've made this conversation between Mikayla and me more enjoyable than it should be right now.
"Oh, hey, before I forget, I found this letter from Marco after he died. After he, you know, killed himself. His mother gave it to me recently, and it was for you." She said, then getting the letter from her sling bag, and handing it to me. It says To M.J. Ashford, I'm sorry, I shed a tear or two when I saw his handwriting again, for the first time in three to four years. I don't remember anymore. I have put that incident behind me years ago.