I wake up, feeling a sense of wanting to get the hell out of LA and a strong sudden urge to move to the area around Fitchburg, Massachusetts. I have no clue where it is exactly or the area around it, but I do know what company I'm looking for in that area. Something is just calling for me to move there, but I don't know what quite yet. I research and apply to the company, hoping that they will take me soon.

I pick up the phone and call Chris, knowing he'll get the other three of our friends over to my place after I tell him my plan of moving to someplace I didn't even know existed on a whim. "Hey, man. I was just thinking about you and how we used to be so close," he answers the phone. 

"Well, you came across my mind when I decided to move to someplace called Fitchburg, Massachusetts without a clue as to why." 

"What? That sounds insane, even to me. Are you feeling okay?" 

"Yeah, man. I just woke up and that place came to my mind, calling for me to move out there ASAP." 

He sighs, clearly annoyed by the thought. "I know I'm crazy, but, man, you're fucking tapped. Let me call the other guys and we'll meet at your place in the next couple hours. You're supposed to be the one with all the sense," he rambles in less than ten seconds, hanging up right after. 

I look at my left wrist, making mental note of the time. I go about my next hour of peace and quiet, tracking down a place to live, and a place to get a beater car. I hop on my private Facebook and track down an old acquaintance of mine from near there (Worcester, specifically) and he tells me that he lives in Westminster now. He says it's closer to the town I'm hoping to get into and his cousin has a place for rent or buy out near him. He mentions that he has contacts in the company I want to get into, telling me to look out for a girl on second shift and that she goes by Sam. He comments on the sly about her friend, Dan. He describes them to me, detail for detail, and even says not to piss this chick off. I tell him I want the place and that's the same company that I was looking to get into, but he reiterates the info about Sam and Dan. He warns me that they went to high school together and that her man isn't what I should be concerned about. 

My hour is up; Justin slamming on my door like LAPD or the feds. I fling it open just moments after I finished making all the employment and living arrangements final. "What do you want?"

Justin groans and Chris motions to me, telling Joey and Lance 'see? I told you so' silently. "JC, please tell us that you aren't moving across the country to a blip on the map town and getting a normal person job?" Lance demands as I park my ass on the couch with a smirk. 

I nod. "As a matter of fact, I just procured the house and my contact from Worcester just said he'd make sure I get the job at TRW in Westminster. I'm going no matter what you have to say."

I had two cups of coffee, got the kids off to school with my mom, and I peruse through my closet with my high school friend, Dan, sitting on the chest at the foot of my bed. My boyfriend, Eric, is at work for the next half hour. "I caught wind from Sara that we have five new people coming in on our shift for Monday, but I got a glimpse of the names and only one sounds familiar." 

"Sam, chill. What name?" 

"Joshua Chasez." 

I turn to look at his expression. "Sounds like something we should both know, considering I had to listen to your music off and on since you were a freshman in high school." 

I scoff, scrunching up my face. "Fuck off. I also took your ass in, gave you ass, had a falling out with you, forgave you, and you make it sound like I chained you to a wall and forced you to listen to it. Sir Douche," I ramble, falsely saluting him at the end, the eye roll being complimentary. 

He lightly scoffs, something he does when I take something out of context. "You know what I meant." 

I chuckle lightly. "Yeah. I just can't remember why I

should know that name." His eyes and mine match perfectly, like we should have been cousins or something.  

He laughs, breaking our staring contest. His laugh is almost like an evil child's, infectious and contemplating. I giggle for a moment. "I know it's going to eat at you until you figure it out, but it's almost 1:10 and we both know Ewic will be home soon," he teases me, purposely mispronouncing my boyfriend's name.  

Alright, I know I should catch you up to date on why he does that thing where he teases me about Eric and I being together. So, uhm, here's a quick flashback of the first, oh, 8½ or 9 years I'd known him and then I'll jump to the week of Halloween 2015. 

~January 2001~  

Ugh. Gym. I loathe the special. Hope the others in this class are tolerable, at the bear minimum. I open the doors to the new FHS gym and spot two old friends of mine-Eric Muniz and Wayne Dwyer. "Wayne! Eric! You gotta take this joke for the next few months with me?" 

Wayne laughs and Eric shrugs. My eyes fall to a fairly good-looking Irish guy who was sitting on the bench. (Keep in mind he was a sophomore and I was dating my ex-scuzzband, I mean ex-husband, at the time and Dan went by the nickname "Hawk" back then, but Dan had muscles, braces and had been very sociable. We were teenagers and now we're in our 30s. I don't see him in that way anymore. What's done is done and years since been forgiven.) I step between two of my childhood friends, one arm slung over each of their shoulders.

"Who is this?" I demand, subtly nodding to the muscular Irish boy. 

The mystery kid stands up without missing a beat, offering up his hand and a huge grin. "I'm Dan, but everyone calls me "Hawk"." 

His eyes are as beautiful now as they had been then. "I'm Sam." I take hold of his hand and we shake hands for a couple seconds. 

"How long have you known Wayne and Eric?" he inquires, still smiling and having released my hand. 

"Since about second grade." 

"Almost forever," he suggests, the two of us chuckling for a moment. 

"I guess so." I smile, my eyes darting from his head to his sneakers as I search for a physical reason as to why I shouldn't be attracted to him and come up empty. He was like looking at the type of guy I wanted... for a couple things. I had a very dirty mind, but it had only one track for him then. 

We got to know each other very well and he knew exactly how well I knew Eric then. I'd hang out with Dan at his parents' and his little sister was in my grade. His parents loved me from day one and I think his sister didn't mind me, but she didn't hate me. I was stupid and got married in my sophomore year, pregnancy coming at the end of the same school year. Dan and Eric were the two friends from high school that I would talk to here and there, but my ex would get so jealous and delete them from my Facebook and Myspace accounts on me.

Dan and I were roommates for a few months, having a wrench thrown between the gears for the majority of the time. I will neither confirm nor deny what I meant by that or what I meant by 'gave him ass' cuz the only people that need to know exactly what happened already know about the exact meaning. I forgave him just over two years later, but didn't contact him for 4, almost 5, years after. Life is fickle, tricky, and complicated. 

When I called his parents' house two days after the first time (in 6 long years), it was nice to hear his voice and that he was just as willing as I was (and still am) to let bygones be bygones, to let the past troubles be forgiven. He was in a rough patch of life and I gave him a job lead he took a few weeks later, knowing he'd be working with me and that he'd have to put up with my shit at least five days a week and hang out with Eric and I just as often. I literally laughed my ass off when he turned down the job he'd originally wanted before he got comfortable at TRW four years ago.  

Back to today. It's October 27, 2020. "Tomorrow marks five years since we started hanging out and talking after, like, six years of silence." 

I freeze, my hand still on my Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers t-shirt, and look at him over my shoulder slowly. 

"Y'know, you're right. Five years and now we're like the best of friends. The same way we had been until stupidity dragged us into its ocean and tried to drown us." 

"It was a relief to hear your voice on the other end of the line; like I knew you'd be stronger than me and admit forgiveness first," he confesses again for the who-knows-how-manyth time since we really started to chill like the 3 amigos.

"I knew I forgave you a little more than four years before that, but I was also very hurt and bitter until I said it. I could feel the weight lifting as I said it." I sigh.

"I'm just so glad that you were willing to do the same and even more so when you said you were happy I left dipshit and got with Eric." 

"Yeah. Look at you two now, five years in: still happy, still love each other, trying to have your first little one or ones together, and raising your older kids together. He's been a great dad since before you got together and the kids proudly call him their dad. You should just get married already." 

We laugh for a few moments together before my 15 year old daughter knocks on my open bedroom door. "Yes, honey?" 

"Mom, I'm going to Jason's tonight, right?" 

"Friday night. It's only Tuesday." 

"I mean, to get costumes." 

"Oh, yeah!" I facepalm myself. "Yes, for costumes, but then straight home. Also, little girl, make sure daddy agrees." 

"Yes, mom. Hi, Uncle Dan." 

"Hey, Aaliyah." 

She walks away before I look at the smirk on his face. "What?" 

"She's turned out to be a good kid, just like the boys have." 

I widen my eyes. "Thank God she wasn't like me. I think Eric and his family have something to do with that." 

"He helped and I think that the other one stepping out of your lives had a huge impact on the whole situation, too." 

Yes, he means their biological "father". "Most likely. You've been there for the past five years and that helps as well." 

"Eh, no biggie. You welcomed me back with open arms and I appreciate it." 

I shrug, grabbing my shirt and disappearing into my closet for a moment to slip the shirt on over my tank top. "Forgiveness is something friends do when they want to keep the best of the best with them." 

"Sometimes one will chase waterfalls instead of trusting the lakes and rivers that they know best." 

He took that from TLC's "Waterfalls", thinking he's slick. "You just basically jacked the chorus of a song," I comment, shaking my head as I exit my closet. "You need to understand that you're part of the rivers and lakes that I'm used to because I know you so well." 

He smiles warmly, slightly blushing. "Yeah. Same goes for you. You're still the same girl I knew all those years ago, just much happier and actually in love with the man who was by your side for the entire ride." 

"The man that I'm willing to give a child to and maybe just say those vows for and take his last name and spend eternity with. Someone his family has loved for almost as long as he has while the other person felt the same way without having even a beginning of understanding the meaning of the word "love"."  

I sigh, happy to have said it to someone I count as one of the five closest friends I'm happy to have. He's the only friend I see nearly everyday, one that Eric trusts nearly as much I do. "I still can't believe I haven't found anyone that's been able to take my breath away like you did, but I knew right off the bat that your heart was taken and that it was your best friend's." 

He sighs, dejectedly. I throw my arms around him, comforting him, gently rocking side to side with my cheek resting on the top of his head. "Dan, sometimes it takes time, patience, and an open mind on top of an open heart. You know I say it from personal experience. I love you like a favorite cousin or sibling, but you tried so hard to keep me from drowning in my sea of despair when I wouldn't even wade water." 

"I know I love you, but from afar. I know he has your heart. I respect that, but it hurts to see you so in love with someone else when I can't find that." 

"You need to stop searching for love and just allow it to find you. I did. I wrote about it, and then, the least expected person became the one I've always loved was so obvious to me. It was like someone smacked me with a bat full of obvious things that finally made sense." 

"Every day, it's like you fall more in love with him." 

"Christina said it best in one of her songs, 'I'm amazed by all your patience/Everything I put you through'. I mean it toward you as much as I mean it for Eric, it might be in different ways..." I trail off, trying to word it just right so that he doesn't get the wrong impression. 

"I mean it all just the same because the people I mean it for, have helped me mold myself into the woman I am today." 

"If I never met you, neither of us would be who we are." 

"Yeah. Love is a confusing and comforting thing; you just have to configure a way to navigate it." 

"I never once thought that someone younger than me would be giving me advice about love and relationships." 

Now, don't get the wrong idea about Dan... He's a smart guy when it comes to everything else, just not when it comes to relationships and emotions. Some people are just amazing at pretty much everything, some are barely keeping their heads above the water, and the rest can survive in one part of life and not so much about the rest. Dan is the last, I'm the middle, and Eric is an anomaly. Why do I say that about Eric? He is smart about certain things, guarded when it comes to emotions, but got through life pretty easily... but that's in my opinion, if you don’t count the emotional pain he's suffered. I've always had to fight for everything, sank when I should have been swimming, struggled to breathe, got my head above water, sank again, then he rescued me, and now I can't ask for anything more. Dan was one of the lucky ones, considering he's had the experience of a broken heart spared more times than I can count because he was almost as smart as Eric by having much fewer relationships than I have. I've had the most broken heart in my lifetime, but I'm also the youngest out of the three of us. There was about nine different times I've had my heart broken and most of them were ones that destroyed me more on the inside than what I showed. The number of times I've been entirely torn apart emotionally, well, one was when I lost my Gramma, then there's Shosey, then my failed marriage, and of course, TJ Williams. Two were my first tastes of bitter love and a broken heart, one was an asshole in armor who shattered my fractured heart and tore every fiber of my being to the tiniest shreds which left me broken and beaten and an emotional mess that was so afraid to say the three words that mean the absolute most, and the most important one was what helps me define how strong of a person I've become since that Thanksgiving in 1998 (I was only 12) when I fell into a hole of heartbroken emotional hell and began fighting my way back to the strong person that I am today with the encouragement of the two wonderful men and my children and my mother. 

If not for Eric and Dan standing beside me when they have, I wouldn't have seen the damage others had been able to do. Hell, there's two other people I have to also thank and I will do it now so that they know that they're always in my heart and on my mind as not only friends, but as family as well-Bekah and PJ.  

My Youtube tab on my laptop decides it's the perfect moment to play Mayday Parade's "Save Your Heart", something I must agree with cuz it is what he needs to hear. He's aching to be in a relationship, but he needs to realize that love can't be rushed or forced. "I'm younger and been through so much more heartache and many more broken and shattered hearts," I remind him. 

My phone sings a part of a song that applies to Eric and I, indicating who it is before I can even get to my phone. I read, 'You home? Dan there?' 

'Yes and yes.' 

'Omw home now.' 

'Okies. See you in a few.' 

He stands, slowly walking out onto the porch attached to the back of the house, and holds onto the railing that Eric and I had painted a beautiful ocean blue earlier this year when we moved to the house we're now renting near the old FHS building. It's a matter of a five or ten minute walk from there to our house. Our house is a five bedroom, two bathroom, large kitchen with all appliances and an island, a dining room, a large living room, a basement, and two car garage. We have a working car and a project car that he and I work on when we get the chance to. Of course that only happens when we both have days off or are on vacation, either happen very rarely. He also works on it with the kids, mainly the boys. I have my football player in middle school, my little girl is in her sophomore year, and my oldest is still living with us and working his tail off working for the same company as I do on first shift (7a-3p). I catch him coming out on my way in, hugging him close and tell him to be good for Eric (it's an old habit of mine).  

I lean on it, beside one of my few best friends for more than a total of 15 years altogether, and sigh. "My mom isn't doing too good as of late, man." 

I feel his eyes burning into the side of my head. "How?" 

"She has been in the hospital off and on since Chubb's birthday. From a chest cold to dehydration to ear infections to tachycardia; she just has been having the absolute worst time health wise." 

"Uh, wow. I'm sorry." 

I shake my head. "It was something I've always been afraid of happening, but I had come to terms with it when I'd been with Eric about a year. It's something that's just been looming over me and why I tell her that I love her as much as I have for the past six or seven years as often as I get the chance to." 

"It sucks, but with the two of us and the kids, I know you'll come out of it and it'll all be okay," he tells me, putting his hand on mine to comfort me. 

"Hey, hey, hey!" Eric classically calls through the house around 1:15ish. Why is my daughter home, but not Chubbs? It's Tuesday and both Dan and I have to work today, but she had been given a skip day due to a special test being run that her doctor is running. Chubbs is at school, making things simple for everyone cuz Aaliyah knows the bus route to get to their Tio Jason's. Chubbs is most likely having a blast hanging out with his friends on the way home, avoiding all the short cuts to take longer to get home. He's most likely going to stick to his cousin, Niko's, side cuz they're like they're slued to one another's sides from the armpit down to the hips.

"We're on the back porch," I announce loudly through the back door, not wanting to have him see me so emotionally distraught. 

I catch up with my old friend, Mike, and he's going to put me up for a few days until I meet with his uncle, Jeff, to give him the cash to begin renting-to-own the house a few places down the road from him. Come to find out that he personally knows this chick, Sam, her friend, Dan, and her other half, Eric. From what I gathered via the text he'd sent me last night before I boarded my flight cross-country, I would be wise to steer clear of her, but I'd also be blown away by her. He said she sings karaoke on the weekends at a pub in Fitchburg; her voice is one of the most trivial things about her, due to her not having any type of vocal lessons and that it comes so naturally to her. I haven't even met her, yet she's on my mind all day...every day.  

I'm told her friend is more like a brother to her and is pure Irish, ready to fight anyone that dares to hurt her in any way. This friend of hers is what makes me think twice about even getting to know her, but it won't stop me. C'mon, I know every little damn thing about this woman that most people don't know before they even meet her! 

She's a mom, divorced, been with her current lover for 5 years, trying to have a baby with her man, she sings for fun, she works her ass off, one of her kids is dealing with a Spectrum disorder, and that she's always willing to help the people around her. I know her almost too well: from her favorite color to her fears to her favorite music to her style.

I'm about to land in Boston, Massachusetts in less than a minute and my excitement grabs hold of me. My phone goes off, indicating a text from Mike. I read it and chuckle, getting the chance to hang out with the woman that's been on my mind non-stop because he's chilling with her today. Her friend is going to meet us at the pub later on today.  

Mike is a mulatto man of 39 who has hazel-brown eyes, some muscle definition, standing five foot eight. He's sporting a pair of black basketball shorts, a gray muscle shirt, and a pair of strong legs around his waist that possess a laugh that sounds almost as beautiful as Beethoven's Fur Elise being played professionally on a grand piano to my ears. "Mike! Stop spinning me before I ralph all over the floor and you!" she warns him, giggling after. 

I see her red velvet-caramel hair flowing from her head as she presses her body to his back, her face hidden from view by his shoulder. I walk up to them, my single suitcase rolling behind me. "Mike! I taught you to treat women better than that," I tease him, a huge grin on my face.  

He looks up, stopping dead in his tracks. This causes her beautiful ocean blue eyes to peek over his right shoulder, my breath catching in my throat, and they narrow at me. "Hey, man! She's family to me. We've known each other since she and my little sis have been friends. You should remember that girl we had with us at that concert." 

"No way this Tykie." It's pronounced "tick-y", and it's because of how hyped up and off the wall she had been then.  

She pats his upper arms, signaling to let her down, and he does so. Once she's jumped down, I notice her smokin' hot body for her height of no more than five foot three. Her temper proves she's that same Tykie I met back in the day, that concert in Worcester when the group was touring the US for the first time in our lives. "You shady ass mother fucker! I thought it may have been you, but this is fucking crazy!" she begins torrenting me with her verbal slew which induces fearful silence in me as her finger points at me, jabbing me in the chest. "How in the fuck could you plan this shit with Mikey, but not let me know, you douchebag mother fucking dick? Do I not matter? Did you forget I goddamn exist, you shit fucker?" She shoves me with both hands, causing me to take a step backward, and that's what makes me snap. 

"I knew you existed, but not your real name or any contact info for you. I sent the letters to Mike for you. You're still the same Tykie from way back then. Didn't you come tour with the group during our NSA tour?" 

"Yup." She grins evilly. "Made everyone but you, James, and Chris nearly piss themselves throughout the tour." She laughs manically about the memories. 

"You look beautiful," I smoothly compliment her, dropping my free left hand onto her shoulders. 

She bends over, backing out from under my arm before she side jabs me. "No," she snarls at me. "Only my man and my best friends can do that." 

"Ouch, Tykie," I respond, my hand over my heart and looking like she seriously hurt me as she turns away from me. I kid you not when I say that the entire road crew heard Pink's Trouble and agreed with me when I screamed that it was her theme song.  

She nods at me over her right shoulder. "Serves your ass right." 

Mike's eyes are bouncing between us, trying his hardest not to bust out laughing at the scene in front of him. "Let's get you to town so we can get your dumb ass set up for a few days," he tells me, slinging his arm across her shoulders before they start off toward the car. 

"When you're on the phone, hang up, and call right back," she softly sings to herself, dancing as she goes through all the lyrics to the songs playing on an endless loop in her mind. It's basically her own chopped up mix of songs she knows that she's singing as she goes from one song to the next, matching every beat and note with her body and voice. She's going from my group to Usher to Pink to Britney to Tupac to Mariah to Halestorm to Paramore. She's plethora of musical talent, just a gold mine for a big shot talent scout for the music industry!  

Her phone rings, the Power Rangers theme song playing. She strides over, leaning forward over the arm of the couch, allowing her body to fall on two of the three seats on it as she places the device to her ear. "Hey, honey," she greets the caller, my orbs affixed to her ass and thighs as she kicks her feet back and forth. She's a tiny, but real looking hourglass shaped woman of maybe a size seven or nine in juniors' jeans because she's too short and womens' jeans just don't fit her the way she wants them to. I'm mentally envisioning my hands stripping her out of her tank top, jeans, and lacy orange thong that's peeking at me from the top of her jeans. I can't hear anything being said as the soundtrack of my imagination running rampant plays the various sounds and movements of what I could make her do. Only reason I know that is because she told me on the tour we took her under our wings that she's had a crush on me for nearly as long as she's known her best friend from elementary school. For fuck's sake, I flew out while she was pregnant and married to her loser ex to help her out and she gave me a few tastes of herself while he was out of the picture. I'm starting to think that she may have forgotten about it, but I would say that it's due to the pregnancy brain. Maybe it's because it's been 15, 16 years. I remember her oldest kid, "Bubbie", and how he was a blast and a riot. I loved being around them for those four or five months. 

I hang my head, my hands covering my face, and I sigh as my heart breaks. What she allowed me to have with her and her son... it's all I've ever wanted, but couldn't find anywhere else on this earth. It's made me bitter, broken-hearted, and spiteful toward everyone else's relationship happiness. She's moved on and I'm stuck in the memory. I'm not exactly sure it's the same Sam that took a 15 year old girl in as her own blood while raising her own son and pregnant with her daughter in the projects. I get up and walk into the backyard, finding Mike throwing a stick for his pitbull, Keeki, to fetch and return. "Mike?" I call out, closing his back door behind me. 

"Sup, Scott?" he asks, having used my middle name as my nickname since the night we met, and throws the stick for the pooch to get. 

"Did Tykie ever live in the projects with her oldest kid, pregnant with her daughter, and take in a 15 year old girl while her ex was MIA?" I ask, jamming my hands into my stonewashed jeans’ pockets and shrugging my black tee shirt clad shoulders under the 70ish degree sunny late spring sunshine. 

"Yeah. She doesn't remember it for the simple reason that she doesn't want to recall any part of her marriage from hell. She's suffered enough and she's finally happy in and with her life," he explains. 

"Aren't there times you'd swear that she remembers little bits and pieces?" 

"Of course I do remember little snippets, but I'll be damned if you're the one to fuck this up for me," she honestly tells me, having come outside during my conversation with Mike. 

"What does this guy know about your...history?" 

"Every little detail. I told him about you. I only left out a couple names and small details. Granted, we had some serious chemistry, but he fucks me so much better than you ever could." 

"What's his sign?" 

"Scorpio." A few moments pass by silently. "-I wonder how am I supposed to feel when you're not here?  

Cuz I burned every bridge I ever built when you were here  

I still try holding onto silly things  

I never learn. Oh, why?  

All the possibilities I'm sure you've heard 

That's what you get when you let your heart win  

Whoa-oh-oh-oh 

That's what you get when you let your heart win 

Whoa-oh-oh-oh 

I drown out all my sense with the sound of its beating 

Make your way to me, to me, and I'll always be just so inviting 

If I ever start to think straight, this heart would start a riot in me," she simply serenades me, her voice encouraging me to close my eyes a single moment into it in order to feel and taste each note and word. 

I sigh again. "I know." I swallow my nerves. "How can I decide what's right  

When you're clouding up my mind? 

I can't win your losing fight all the time 

Nor can I ever own what's mine 

When you're always taking sides 

But you won't take away my pride 

No, not this time 

Not this time 

How did we get here? 

Well, I used to know you so well 

How did we get here? 

Well, I think I know 

The truth is hiding in your eyes 

And it's hanging on your tongue 

Just boiling in my blood 

But you think that I can't see 

What kind of girl that you are 

If you're a girl at all 

Well, I will figure this one out 

On my own 

I'm screaming, "I love you so!" 

On my own 

My thoughts you can't decode," I sing my reply. 

"Do you see what we've done? 

We've gone and made such fools of ourselves 

Do you see what we've done? 

We've gone and made such fools of ourselves 

Yeah...! 

How did we get here? 

Well, I used to know you so well, yeah, yeah 

How did we get here? 

But, don't speak 

I know just what you're saying 

So, please, stop explaining 

Don't tell me cuz it hurts 

Don’t speak 

I know what you're thinking 

I don't need your reasons 

Don't tell me cuz it hurts," she tells me, staring me in the face as her lip begins to quiver. 

"Tykie, look, I know it's in the past and that recalling the days where you had to deal with that self-absorbed ass hurts you. I'm okay with that. I'll remember those nights and days we shared together for the rest of my life and plan on searching for something like that." 

She looks down at her iPhone 8, quickly typing something before she plays Fergie's Big Girls Don't Cry (Personal) and eyes me for an honest reaction to it. "-but I've got to get a move on with my life 

It's time to be a big girl now 

And big girls don't cry 

Don't cry 

Don't cry 

The path that I'm walking 

Not much going on 

I must take the baby steps 

Till I'm full grown 

Full grown 

Fairy tales don't always have a 

Happy ending, do they? 

And I forseek the darker hand  

If I stay 

I hope you know 

I hope you know 

That this is nothing to do with you 

It's personal 

Myself and I 

We got some  

Straightening out to do 

And I'm gonna miss you 

Like a child misses its blanket 

But, I've got to get a move on 

With my life 

It's time to be a big girl now 

And big girls don't cry 

Don’t cry 

Don't cry." 

She sang that with her eyes closed, giving me the chance to get close enough to hold her in my arms with her phone between our bodies. Her middle knuckles rest at the bottom of my sternum, her head dropped, and her body giving way. I release the breath I'd stolen away, only to take another deep breath before I begin to panic. She begins to seize, her body convulsing in my arms. "MIIIIIIKKKKKKKEEEEEEEE!!!!" I scream, unsure of what to do. 

"Let her go." I slowly lower her into his arms, his body skillfully moving her onto her side and hold her stable with just his legs and arms. "Get my phone, Keeki," he orders the dog, the blue-nose obeying instantly. She places the device near his hands, pushing on the home button and holds it until Siri asks what she can do. "Siri, call Eric." 

"Eric Martin or Muniz?" 

"Muniz." 

"Dialing Eric Muniz." 

"Hey, hey, hey." 

"No. Seizure, Sam, now, my house." 

"Be there in fifteen, max."  

A soft click tells us he hung up. "Since when is she epileptic?" 

I'm still scared out of my wits. He slowly raises his head to look at me. "Since she was accurately diagnosed with bipolar, social anxiety, PTSD, OCD behaviors, and rotated hippocampus that causes medial temporal lobe epilepsy. It was confirmed in CAT scans four years ago. She also has migraines." 

"Uh, wow. I didn't know." 

"She had to have a near complete mental break before they figured out why she couldn't remember things and the seizures make sense, but the scans made it a concrete thing." 

"When it did take place, uh, relationship wise?” 

"About a month into being with Eric." 

"How long do they last?" 

"Anywhere from a couple minutes to an hour." 

"How long have they been this way?" 

"The seizures didn't get this bad until she slipped on ice back in 2017, just after her 31st birthday." 

A dark colored SUV whips into his driveway after little more than ten minutes later. "Mike?!" a man's voice yells, running along the side of the house. 

"Out back!" 

A slightly muscular Puerto-Rican man who stands five foot nine with dark hair and medium brown eyes flies around the corner of the building as she begins to cease seizing, her body going entirely slack. "Is she just now slowing down?" he demands from Mike. 

"Yeah," he confirms, his eyes glued to her limp form.  

“Who is this?” he demands to know, tilting his head in my general direction.  

“That's the guy she and I have known since that concert way back in the day. He's a friend of mine. Eric, Josh, and vice-versa. I call him Scott.” 

“I would be nicer if she wasn't like this,” Eric explains, his eyes focused on her as he checks her pulse as Mikey walks away as he gabs away with a doctor.  

Tykie groans, most likely coming to. “Whahappen?” she slurs, looking at him. It seems as if she's looking through him.  

“You had another seizure, honey,” he tells her, smoothing her hair.  

“I remember talking to you and then Josh, but not what was talked about.” 

“We talked about going out with Mikey and Josh to have dinner. This is the second one in a week,” he reminds her.  

She frowns, knowing that she might have to deal with this before anything else. “Have you been taking the med for it, Sam?” Mikey calmly asks her.  

“Yeah, just the way I'm supposed to.” 

She tries to sit up and her man helps her slowly accomplish just that. “Easy, honey. Can you get her some water or juice, Mikey?” 

He darts off to get the requested drink for her, returning a minute later with a glass of blue juice. “Drink this,” he demands, placing it in her hands as Eric helps her hold it.  

She sips from it, slowly drinking nearly half of it. “I think she should stay here, just to keep an eye on her. We all work the same shift. Josh doesn't start until Monday and Dan is crashing here for the weekend. The three of us can rotate shifts to keep a close watch,” Mikey suggests.  

“What about Pops?” Eric questions, serious.  

He still hasn't said anything more to me. “Bring him here. You know he enjoys being here.” 

He calls someone, walking away to talk to the person. “How do you know him?” I question my friend.  

“He's her childhood bestie and he's a good friend of mine.” 

“Non-refundable,” Tykie comments.  

“Will he warm up to me?” I inquire, directing it to her.  

“In time, he will.”