The phone rang longer than she expected before Cameron finally picked up, her voice coming through clear yet distant, like an echo from a past life.
"Cameron? Holy shit, it's been forever!"
The familiarity in her voice gave Cameron a vague sense of recognition. It wasn't remarkable, just something that reminded her of a life she had moved past—or had at least pretended to. She leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling as she responded with practiced ease.
"Yeah, guess it has. What's up?"
Small talk. The obligatory exchange of how have you beens and what are you up tos. Cameron answered in the most diluted way possible, offering vague affirmations that life was fine, work was fine, everything was fine. It didn't matter what Cheyenne thought of her answers, just that they got past this part of the conversation.
Then came the real reason for the call.
"So, the big news is that my husband and I are moving," Cheyenne said, her voice carrying an artificial excitement that barely translated over the phone. "We're throwing a going-away party this weekend, and I was thinking—it's been so long, why not have a little work reunion?"
Cameron blinked at the ceiling. Work reunion. Right. Because that's what they were. Former coworkers. Acquaintances at best. The way Cheyenne spoke made it sound like their bond had been deeper than it was, and maybe, for Cheyenne, it had been.
"Sounds... fun," Cameron said, noncommittal.
"You should totally come! It's just a small get-together. We're inviting a bunch of people from the old job—"
Cameron's grip on her phone tightened. "Who all is going?"
Cheyenne listed names. Names that barely registered, names that didn't matter. And then—
"Oh! Jasmine, too. I still talk to her sometimes, so I figured I'd invite her."
There it was. The only name that did matter.
Cameron kept her voice smooth, unaffected. "Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah! She seemed excited about it. You two got along pretty well back then, right?"
Cameron let out a low hum in response. Her mind was already spiraling, a chaotic mess of thoughts colliding into one another. How much had Jasmine changed? Did she even remember those two weeks the way Cameron did? Of course not. She had been just a coworker to her. A blip in her life. But for Cameron…
She forced herself to stop thinking. To stay neutral.
"I'll stop by," she said after a pause, making sure it came out as casual as possible.
"Awesome! Can't wait to see you. It'll be like old times!"
Old times.
They wrapped up the call with more pleasantries that Cameron barely processed. As soon as the line went dead, the weight of the conversation sank in fully. A sharp, sinking feeling gripped her stomach, twisting and constricting like something living beneath her skin.
She is nothing now. She is nothing now.
She muttered it under her breath, her voice barely above a whisper. A desperate attempt at self-soothing. A mantra she hoped would ground her, but it didn't work. The unease remained, settling deep into her bones.
Then, suddenly, she shot up from the couch.
If she was going to see Jasmine again, along with the rest of them, she couldn't show up looking like she had spent the past two years rotting in the same place. She needed to appear... changed. Like time had moved her forward, not just dragged her along.
The next day, she got a haircut for the first time in years. Nothing drastic—just a few inches off, a set of light layers to frame her face. Just enough to imply she had been keeping up with herself. Just enough to sell the illusion of progress.
She didn't do much else. She didn't want to overdo it.
Now, all she had left to do was wait.
Wait for the party.
Wait for the reunion that had been placed in front of her like some cruel trick of fate.
No. Not fate.
She needed to stop thinking that way, stop weaving meaning into coincidences.
This was just another event. Just another night.
She repeated those words in her mind, over and over, as the date of the party loomed closer, seeping into her thoughts like an inescapable fog.