ALMOST YOU

CELESTE The morning air was crisp and fresh, carrying the scent of dew-kissed grass and the faint sweetness of blooming jasmine from the garden below. Golden sunlight streamed through the large windows of my room, casting warm patches of light across the pale blue walls and the white duvet spread neatly over my bed. I stood before the mirror, my reflection staring back at me with wide, unceritain eyes as a mixture of nervousness and excitement bubbled within my chest. I adjusted my beanie and tucked a strand of my unruly auburn hair behind my ear and studied my reflection one last time. Today was a big day. Mainly because it was move-in day and because I was finally stepping into the halls of Cascade Ridge Academy after years of reading about schools in books and watching them come to life on movie screens. All my life, I had studied within the safe walls of my home, under the constant watchful eyes of my tutors, doctors and my father. The world outside had always been a distant dream , something I yearned for every time I read about school adventures in novels or watched them unfold on screen. I'd memorized all the scenes, the crowded hallways, the late-night study sessions and the inside jokes and the feeling of belonging somewhere. For years, those moments had belonged to other people. But now they could be mine. My father had been reluctant, of course for my frail health had always been a concern. For years, he had shielded me from anything that might strain me , keeping me close, alive and safe. But I had begged, argued and convinced him that I could handle it. That I was strong enough to take this step and at last, he had relented. We then moved back to Ridgewood, a town I barely remembered even though I'd been born here. My father's job had transferred him again and his work was never stable, it involved moving and traveling constantly. He couldn't leave me alone, and he couldn't take me with him on the road. Besides, he knew how much I’ve longed for this. To be out there without the shackles of my health concerns, to explore and experience the real world without being shielded like an egg when I was anything but fragile. And he believed in me. Just like he had believed in my mother. So Ridgewood became the answer. Just as I adjusted the strap of my canvas tote bag, I heard the soft creak of the door opening and turned to see my father stepped into the room. I watched from the mirror as he adjusted his sleeves and smiled. "When are you leaving?". I asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway. "Guess someone's so eager to do away with me and explore the world”. He replied, his voice lilting into a sing-song tease and I replied with the same vigor. "I guess so." "I'll be leaving today”. He said, his voice gentle as ever as he crossed the room to stand behind me. "Will be back by next month ." He picked up a brush from the vanity and began running it through my hair in slow and deliberate strokes, just like he used to when I was younger. His touch was careful and methodical, as if memorizing every strand and I closed my eyes, enjoying the moment. "You look so much like your mother, you know”. He murmured, his voice thick with nostalgia. "Back in our college days, you remind me of when we first met." "She was this pretty lady”. I said, opening my eyes and catching his reflection in the mirror. I smiled, shaking my head gently. "She was this pretty lady that stole everyone's attention whenever she was around. You've said this a thousand times, Dad." "I know." He sighed, a fond smile tugging at his lips. "But it's true." "I can do this, Dad”. I said, turning to face him. “I can and I’m so sure that Mom, watching from heaven above will be so happy to see me finally taking this step”. He placed the brush down on the vanity and gently cupped my face in his palms as his eyes searched mine. "Just remember to call me if anything happens”. I grinned, rolling my eyes in playful exasperation. "And I shouldn't fight, nor argue. I shouldn't get overly excited. I can't overexert myself. I should exercise at an average level. I shouldn't be in overly crowded spaces. And if I have trouble breathing, I should immediately contact you and the school doctor who's an old pal of yours and you've already informed about my health condition." I watched him blinked in surprise before chuckling . "I’ve really said all that so much in the past few days, haven't I?". "A million times”. I teased. He let out a resigned sigh, shook his head and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Alright, alright. I won't nag anymore. Then we’d better not keep Flora waiting “. The drive to Flora's house was short, at least twenty minutes through winding roads lined with ancient oaks and sprawling estates. I pressed my forehead against the cool glass of the car window, watching the world blur past. And when we eventually pulled up to the iron gates of Flora's family estate, my heart stuttered. I hadn't seen Flora in years. Not since we were four years old, chasing each other through the garden of this very house, our laughter echoing off the stone walls. We’d been inseparable then. Until my father's job had taken us away, across the country and the letters had slowed. The calls even less frequent. I caressed my necklace nervously, steadying my breath and just then Flora emerged from the gates. She looked different and more pretty than the last time I saw her and perhaps, sharper also. She was donning a simple olive green bomber jacket over a white t-shirt, paired with black leggings and a black Adidas converse. Her wild strawberry blonde pulled up in a messy bun. She was indeed a beauty to behold, but there was something in her expression that made me pause. There’s this tightness in her jaw and I could tell she was angry, or maybe hurt. But the moment Flora saw me through the car window, the hardness melted and a smile spread across her face. I barely waited for the car to stop before I was scrambling out, almost tripping over my own feet in my rush. My sweater snagged on the door handle for a split second and I heard my father chuckle behind me. "You're here”. Flora breathed. "I’m here”. I echoed. We stood there for a moment ,two steps apart before Flora laughed and pulled me into a hug. "You haven't changed at all”. Flora said into my hair. "You have”. I replied. "You're taller." "And fiercer”. She added, pulling away for a moment to show me her face again and I giggled. "I noticed." Flora pulled back, holding me at arm's length as her eyes swept over me. "I can't believe it”. Flora said, her voice quieter now. "After all these years apart, I'll be attending the same school with you again. Just like crèche." She turned me around playfully, spinning me once before steadying me with hands on my shoulders. "Girls”. My father called from the car, already loading Flora’s luggages in the trunk. “Get in before we’re late”. “Yes,Sir”. We chorused and slid into the back seat, shoulders and knees bumping and within minutes we were talking like no time had passed at all. ————————— I pressed my face to the window as we approached the black, wrought iron gate of the school, with Cascade Ridge Academy arched across the top in elegant gold lettering. The driveway stretched ahead, lined with ancient trees whose branches formed a canopy over the road. “This is it”. I smiled and Flora giggled. We drove past manicured lawns and brick buildings, past students unloading luggage and parents wiping tears, until we reached the senior girls' dorm. A stately gray stone buuilding with ivy climbing the walls and large windows that caught the morning light. Students milled about in casual clothes, all of them moving in and out of the dorm with suitcases and duffel bags and the excited energy of a new year beginning. My father parked the car and glanced back at me. "Here we are”. He said. Flora opened her door and we stepped out and I couldn’t help smiling as I took in the environment. We proceeded to unloading the luggage in a flurry of activity with my father carrying the heaviest suitcases, Flora grabbing her own, me slinging my canvas tote over my shoulder and picking up a small duffel. "Is that not too heavy?". Flora asked as we climbed the front steps. I smiled and adjusted the strap. "No. It's just right." "Believe me”. Flora said, pushing open the heavy oak door. “You'll love it here." "Girls, move”. My father interrupted, striding past us with a suitcase in each hand, his grey henley already damp with sweat. "Some of us have stairs to climb." We followed him up two flights of stairs past chattering students and open doors and the smell of lavender air freshener until we reached Room 521. Flora pushed the door open and we stepped inside, I stoping in my tracks almost immediately. The room was cozy and comfortable, with a large window stretched across the far wall, a comfortable-looking couch sat against one wall, draped with throw pillows in muted blues and grays. A study table with four chairs stood in the center of the room and a mini-fridge hummed softly in the corner. Everything was spotless and just like home. But what caught my attention were the doors. Four of them. Each with a small brass nameplate. Celeste Marche. Flora Smith. Skye Lewis. Zara Finch. I could only stare in awe at the door. My name on a door , in a school. I guess I can finally belong somewhere. Flora nudged my shoulder, jolting me out of my revire. "Seems like we're the first to arrive”. She said with a grin. “Yeah”. I could only smile. My father walked in carrying the last two suitcases, his forehead damp with sweat. He set them down and surveyed the room with a nod of satisfaction. "Thanks, Dad”. I said. "Thank you, Mr. Marche”. Flora added. He smiled at us and I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around him. "Dad." "Hmm." "I'll be fine." He exhaled a long, shaky breath and hugged me back. "I know”. He said into my hair. "It's just . . I'm going to be away for a long while. And this is the first . . " "You always said there's a first for everything, right?". I pulled back just enough to look at him. "And you can't always be with me for the rest of my life." "I could”. He said, and he wasn't entirely joking. I hit his arm playfully. "Dad." "Rest assured”. Flora added from across the room. “She's in good hands here." My father looked at Flora and his expression eased. "Come on here, kid”. He beckoned Flora over and wrapped his arms around us both. We stayed in his embrace for a while before he reluctantly disengaged, kissing Flora’s forehead and then mine. “And now, it’s time to go “. He pointed a finger at us, but his eyes were soft. "I'm not a fan of goodbyes, so don't bother. Or I'll be tempted to drag you both back with me." Flora and I laughed and watched him walked to the door, he paused and looked back and smiled at us again and then he was gone. We moved to the window in unison, pressing our foreheads against the cool glass. Below, the parking lot stretched out like a patchwork of cars and luggage and families saying goodbye. After a moment, my father appeared. He walked to his car and paused with his hand on the door handle. He looked up at the window at us and waved and we waved back at him before he got into the car.