It hadn’t occurred to me that I forgot about going back to Grandma’s until I was lying awake in my own bed sometime during the night. The only thing that lay on my mind was a repeating clip of Sehun’s kiss on my cheek before his hand slipped away and he left me there at the bus stop.

I didn’t wait around for another bus. Somehow I made it home by walking, without crying, without thinking about much of anything I was doing. I walked through the front door, took off my shoes, all without a blink. It was odd: I felt like I had just lost some super significant thing or like I had just broken up with my long-term boyfriend. I just felt weird.

“Eunhui? I thought you were at your grandma’s,” Dad said, coming down the hallway.

Mindlessly, I shook my head and dragged my feet across the floor.

“What’s wrong with you?”

I took a deep breath, thoughts muddled. Then I rushed to hug him. At first, he hesitated for a split second of insecurity before tightly embracing me.

In a sad instant, I realized just how much I had unknowingly missed such a comforting hug, something I could only get from my dad. I had forgotten just how much I needed him or anyone else in my family from the lack of contact I allowed myself in the past years. Without even knowing I had done it, I had shut them out in some kind of self defense action that I had adopted while at school. I’d just shut everyone out, telling myself it was better to forget them than let them tear me down.

It was depressing to come to my senses. I felt regretful that I had let such a thing happen where I pushed everyone who not only loved me but who I loved away because of my fear of being betrayed. Ironically enough, the one person I let close enough to touch had done the most damaging betrayal.

Within a blink of an eye, I’d lost the control I always thought I had. But it hadn’t really been in the blink of an eye: it had been slowly dwindling away from the beginning and I just couldn’t see it.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I murmured into his chest, holding to him for dear life.

He smoothed my hair down without a word and that was what I needed for once. Silence. The thing we take for granted the most. Sometimes silence was the only thing needed, whether to cry in, to dwell in, to think in—just silence.

I called my grandma the next morning and was told not to worry, that she hadn’t cooked dinner anyway because she figured I wouldn’t be back for one reason or another. I think she got the gist of things from my horse voice and she probably would’ve told me I looked like death if I had been talking to her in person. Jaeeun sure did.

“What happened to you? Grandma run you over with the lawn mower?” she asked, taking in a spoonful of her cereal.

I sneered before Mom raised a hand to my forehead. “Are you sick? Why are you up so early?”

Shrugging without a word, I opened the fridge to look at nothing and shut it back. If I could’ve, I would’ve gone back to bed and slept until September, but I had woken up at some point around daybreak and remembered what day it was and from then on, I was wide awake. It bothered me because I had no reason to go except for the fact that Tao had asked me to. I was pretty sure that if it had been anyone else, I wouldn’t have been so bothered but there was just something about Tao.

“I just couldn’t sleep,” I mumbled, ambling out of the kitchen and into the living room where Dad was watching early morning TV.

“Good morning,” he said, putting an arm around me when I sat down. I gave him a garbled and drowsy half-hearted reply.

Besides the TV and Mom and Jaeeun’s distant murmuring, it was silent, but this time I wasn’t as appreciative. Any silence left in my head was taken up by Tao’s words and what ifs and everything in between. The night before, after crying into my dad’s chest, I had achieved some peace that left me feeling lighter than usual, but now it was gone, taken over by the anxiety of not knowing what to do again.

I was blaming Tao for something he really had no part in and I felt bad for being so snappy at him when he had asked if I was attending the graduation. But I knew that Sehun was going to be there along with many other people that I had no interest in seeing and that I was possibly never going to see again in my life. So did I really want to go? I wasn’t sure. Did I feel like I should go? For some reason, yes.

After blanking staring at the TV screen for twenty minutes, I pushed myself off the couch, deciding I could try burying myself in my bed again. But Mom stopped me in the kitchen.

“Isn’t graduation today?” she asked.

I blanched for some unknown reason. Was she going to make me go? Why would she do that? Why was a part of me hoping she would?

“Yes . . .”

She waved her hand. “I thought so. One of the girls from book club said her daughter was graduating today,” she said.

I nodded hesitantly before leaving her to her teapot and cupcakes that looked like Jaeeun had already attacked. A tinge of disappointment followed me to my room and climbed into bed with me. I shut my eyes tightly and told myself to not think about it and it would be over soon.

“Eunhui.” Jaeeun burst into my room. “Isn’t graduation about to happen?”

I sat up and tossed the covers off. “I’m not graduating! What does it matter?” I snapped irritably.

She recoiled with a disapproving look. “I just figured you might have friends graduating that you might want to support,” she mumbled innocently, raising her hands as she backed out of my room.

“We’re not friends, Tao.”

Twisting around in my bed, I looked towards the armchair by my window and saw my Leggy doll was still bundled in an old shirt, halfway buried in the cushion. Looking directly across the room from it, my eyes landed on the wilted crocus that sat in a vase next to my jewelry box.

I scrunched my face as the stinging feeling of tears built up between my eyes. Then I looked at the ceiling, eyes focused on something beyond.

“Is that what you want?” I asked quietly. Heaving a sigh, I slid off the bed while wiping the water from my eyes.

A tingle of sad amusement rose around me as I opened my closet, remembering the time Sehun had hid from Jaeeun. Pushing all my everyday clothes aside, I reached for the item sitting at the very back of my closet, something I hadn’t touched since my mom had insisted I buy it a year before. Laying it across the bed, I went back to my closet and grabbed my only pair of nice looking shoes, a three-year-old pair of Mary Janes.

Closing my closet, I grabbed my phone and checked the time. I had an hour before I needed to be at the school. Throwing my phone down, I went to yank the blanket off the mirror.

“Jaeeun!” I hollered, running out of my room. She responded from her own across the hall. I threw the door open and stared wide-eyed at her. “You have an hour to make me look remotely alive.”

Thirty minutes later, I was trying to fit my dress over my head without smearing the red lipstick my older sister had painted on me.

“Careful!” she reminded me for the sixth time.

“Why didn’t you just let me get dressed first?” I complained, holding my arms up as she pulled the dress over my head.

She delicately pulled my arms through the sleeveless arm holes and yanked the whole thing all the way down. “Because we ran the chance of getting makeup on it,” she said, dusting her hands and turning me to face the mirror. “Now, you’re finished!”

I blinked at the terrified person in the mirror. Her dress was a bit roomier than it had originally been, her short hair fluffed in light waves, and her red lips stood out from the pastel floral dress she wore and the long eyelashes winging her eyes.

I felt pretty.

“My job is done,” Jaeeun proudly said with a bow before turning to leave.

“Wait.” I turned and grabbed her by the wrist. She looked at me, a bit startled and like she was looking for something she might’ve missed. I gave her a small smile. “Thanks,” I said, pulling her into a hug.

She patted my back lightly. “Yeah, yeah. You better hurry up and go. Don’t waste my lipstick,” she warned with a quick finger point.

I laughed and nodded as she left me alone. Taking another look in the mirror, I marveled for a moment before grabbing the small purse Jaeeun had lent me off my armchair and placing my phone inside. I clasped it closed as I went over everything in my head, trying to think if I was missing something. Reopening it, I checked for my wallet and student card before closing it back again; then I looked at Jaeeun’s bracelet on my wrist and my hand went to my ear.

Earrings.

I hadn’t changed my stud earrings in so many months that I had forgotten I even had ear piercings. Dropping my purse on my bed, I went to my dresser and picked the top up off my square jewelry box.

Staring down at the open box for a beat, I looked over to the wall above my bed to see the polaroids were still pasted on my wall. With a furrowed brow, I looked back at the face down polaroids in my jewelry box and tried to recall when I had put them there. But I hadn’t.

I clenched my fists when they started to shake and I tried to reason with myself to just put the lid back on, forget about the earrings, and leave. But then I thought they couldn’t be too big of a deal considering the other ones were random household items. So I picked up the four polaroids and flipped them over.

If I hadn’t remembered soon enough that I still had red paint on my mouth, I would’ve s