Clara
The rain outside had already stopped.
Only the soft sound of water dripping from somewhere outside my apartment remained while I sat on the floor surrounded by old photographs and memories I didn’t realize I still kept.
Or maybe
Memories that kept me instead.
I picked up another picture from the box carefully.
Second grade.
Me with two ponytails and an aggressively missing front tooth.
Beside me was Reig looking deeply unimpressed by life already.
Some things never changed.
I laughed softly before turning the photo around.
At the back, written in messy handwriting:
Clara cried because of chocolate again.
— M.
I blinked once.
Then immediately groaned.
“Oh my God.”
The memory returned instantly.
And unfortunately
So did the embarrassment.
***
Second grade.
Still c
