His old friend Nick Jones stood near him, with his hands in his pockets, his face contemplative. He was taller and skinnier than Joe, with short blonde hair that he used to wear down to his shoulders in high school. He was usually quiet but he always turned into a lion at just the right times. On the football field, for example—or at a bar, if anyone ever messed with one of his friends.

“Why are you so interested in Jennifer Carter all of a sudden?” Nick asked. “I mean, you said yourself you haven’t spoken to her in years, but tonight you’ve asked me about her like, five times.”

“I told you, man,” Joe replied. “I had this dream about her last night.”

“Must have been some dream,” Nick remarked.

“A doozy,” Joe muttered, with one hand inside of his jeans pocket, his fingers grazing the surface of the blue glass ball, making sure it was still there. Making sure that he hadn’t imagined it.

“So what, did you actually try contacting her? To tell her you had a dream about her? I don’t think that would be awkward at all.”

Joe didn’t answer. He didn’t feel like revealing the truth, at least not yet, that he did try contacting her. But she had yet to reply.

“Seriously, did you figure out where she went off to?” Nick carried on. “I mean, Jennifer pretty much vanished once she took off for college, right?”

That wasn’t totally true. Joe had tried keeping things together with her after she’d moved, and had even gone to visit her a few times on campus. But nevertheless it felt like the university and everything there slowly and painfully stole her away from him. But Joe didn’t feel like revealing any of that.

“Yeah,” Joe agreed sadly. “You’re right, it’s like she pretty much vanished.”

“Some people move on, you know, as they get older,” Nick said. “Not everyone wants to stay in the past.”

Though clearly not intended to be hurtful, the words stung him badly. High school didn’t feel that long ago, but… he supposed it was.

For Joe, there were lots of reasons high school had been so great. Far and away, Jennifer was the most prominent one.

She was the new girl during their junior year, having just moved to Virginia from North Carolina. Joe remembered vividly how every guy in the room had fallen silent as she came into class for the first time, her long blonde hair shining, and her skin tan like she’d just come from the beach. Indeed, she had—the Outer Banks, where she’d been working the previous summer. Joe wasted no time trying to talk to her, approaching her right after class, wanting to put her at ease, and to make her feel relaxed and welcomed. He was good at doing that, and he couldn’t imagine how intimidating it must have been for her, going to a brand new school and not knowing a single person there. So he offered to help her out, to show her around, and introduce her to his friends. He loved the wide, appreciative smile she flashed back at him in return, and he thought her hemp necklace looked cool. It was interlaced with colored glass beads and seashells.

“Damn, dude,” Nick said. “You okay? Sorry, Joe, I wasn’t trying to be a dick or anything.”

“You don’t understand, man,” Joe remarked, while stubbing his cigarette out in an ashtray.

“Tell me, then.”

“In high school, I was straight-up in love with Jennifer. I mean, for real. She was the only one who…”

“What?”

“I’m only gonna say this because I’m drunk, Nick.” Joe spoke solemnly.

Nick laughed. “Tell me, dude, it’s cool,” he added.

Joe took a deep breath, preparing himself.

“I mean, my whole life, I always felt like I was stupid. Because my grades always sucked, and my parents, teachers, and goddamn everyone, all they ever did was bitch me out and act disappointed. Jennifer, she was the only one who just like… she saw something in me, you know? She always thought I was awesome, and like, special. I don’t know why. I’ve never really known why. She was just always real sweet to me, from the first day I met her.”

It was still in their junior year and not long after they’d started dating when Joe opened his locker and he saw the letter she had left for him. Clearly she shunned the cold mechanics of email, having delicately handwritten the note instead. It was a long and flowery love letter, and Joe read it in awe. She spoke straight from the heart, as she always did, her words poetic and beautiful, and no one had ever said such nice things to him. Soon after Joe did his best to reciprocate, and he picked up a pen as she had done, knowing she would greatly prefer the traditional approach, and he put it to some paper. She had such a gift for writing, and so he almost felt embarrassed sending his reply—but he needn’t have been, because as it turned out she loved it. The words he penned shakily and thought awkward were the very same ones she’d clutch tightly to her heart, and they’d give a shine to her eyes each time they talked to one another in the days to follow.

In an old shoebox, deep in his closet, Joe knew he still had that letter she’d given him. Even so many years later, it seemed inconceivable to throw it away. He’d treasure it forever, it seemed. He thought maybe she still had the letter he’d written, too. He was sure of it, actually.

“She was sweet to you because you were sweet to her, man!” Nick said. “That’s why she liked you. It’s not rocket science.”

“You’re right. It’s really not.” Joe nodded his head as he spoke.

“People think there’s some kind of like, secret trick to getting girls, you know? When all you really need to do is just… be sweet.” Nick chuckled.

“That’s true, man,” Joe said, with wide eyes. In the moment it felt like one of the more enlightening conversations he’d ever had. He felt like he should write it down quickly, before he forgot it.

“Let’s go back inside,” Nick said.

Joe nodded, and the music grew louder as they walked back into the bar. It was a Doors song—the prominent organ and crisp guitar notes were dead giveaways, even before Jim Morrison’s voice came wailing in on top of it.

The bar was Capital Libations, and it was one that Joe frequented often. Steve was the bartender working this evening. He was a tall, skinny dude whose short, stubbly beard extended far down onto his neck. Joe motioned to him for two more beers as he and Nick took a seat. Seconds later Steve dropped two bottles down in front of them. The glass was cold and beaded.

“So what, you want to look her up now? After all these years? You want to finally profess your love to her?” Nick’s tone was half-joking, half-serious.

Joe laughed like that was ridiculous, but it sounded forced. “Who knows where she is, though,” he muttered.

They were quiet as the Doors carried on, the sonic notes filling the air.

“So can we finally talk about the elephant in the room?” Nick asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve had all this talk tonight about your ex-girlfriend from high school, whom you apparently are still in love with, but you haven’t even once mentioned your current flame. What’s up with that?”

Joe took a drink from his beer.

“Seriously, aren’t you hooking up with some girl in your office?” Nick asked.

Joe nodded. “Yeah. Danielle.”

“So are you two an item?”

Joe shrugged. “It’s unclear.”

Nick laughed. “You whore.”

“What? She’s cool, man. Not everything has to be so damn complicated.”

“Do you two go on dates?”

“Yeah, sure we do. We’ll meet up for happy hour. That might become dinner.”

“Sweet.”

“And that will generally springboard into us closing down the bars several hours later. It’s never planned, but… it happens.”

“Naturally. She sounds fun.”

“Oh, she’s great.”

Joe left out the next part, but it was assumed anyway, how after the bars closed they’d more or less gallop back to his place, hand in hand. The morning sessions with her would go on for hours, sometimes until dawn, or even beyond that, as the sun crept ever higher in the sky. Afterwards she’d usually sleep for at least a few hours before getting up and getting dressed. Before leaving she’d say to him some variation of thank you, that was great, with a smile and a kiss. Joe, groggy and still in a haze, would say much the same thing back to her as she stepped out the door. Then they wouldn’t see each other until they were back at work, where they played out their dreary office roles. That is, until the next time their paths crossed in the night.

“Actually my relationship with Danielle may be evolving somewhat,” Joe added.

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“She invited me to go to a party with her on Saturday. It’s up in New York City too, so there’ll be a road trip and everything.”

“Hey, all right. Broadway Joe. What kind of party is it?” Nick looked intrigued.

“Some kind of rave. I’m sure I’ll feel way out of place. I bought some ecstasy yesterday though, so… I should be just fine.”

Nick laughed heartily. “You are truly a marvelous individual.”

“Thanks.”

“It sounds like a good thing you two have,” Nick said. “Better enjoy it while it lasts.”

Joe sighed, knowing where this was going.

“You know it’s not sustainable, right?” Nick added. “With her?”

“By conventional rationale, yes.”

“How do you even get through work each day? With an office hookup? That’s always confounded me how people do that.” Nick shook his head in disbelief.

“It’s kind of cool, actually. Even great. We play secret little games, her and I. And we’re sexting too, basically all day. The entire day feels like foreplay.”

“Do other people know about you two?”

Joe shrugged. “We’ve never broadcasted anything. I mean, neither of us want that. But I’m sure everyone knows anyway. They probably just snicker and talk shit on their phones, while not daring to say anything to our faces. So that means, ultimately… what the hell do I care?”

“Valid point.”

“If you don’t go online, then nothing can ever bother you, Nick. It’s kind of the secret to life. Most people haven’t figured it out yet.”

Nick chuckled.

“Seriously, man. What’s going on with everyone these days?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, take my coworkers for example,” Joe started. He could feel himself stepping up on a soapbox. “The other day I was giving some training in the conference room. It was for all the young kids, you know, the new hires, temps, interns, and so forth. And all of them were just on their phones the whole time. It’s like they were afraid to talk to each other. And I think that’s all they do outside of work, too. I don’t think they even go out, man. It’s weird. I don’t get it. And they all look miserable, too. Like drug addicts.”

“Well… not everyone is as cool as you, Joe. Stop acting so judgmental.”

“Do I sound like a dick?”

“I’d say more like a grandpa.”

Joe snickered.

“The world is changing, man,” Nick added. “It’s happening right in front of our eyes. Anyways, you’re not really any better. You know you’re a hypocrite, right?”

Joe shrugged. “Probably.”

“I see you keep looking at your phone. This whole night you keep glancing at it. You’re tethered to that motherfucker just as much as anyone else.”

“Well… at least I feel guilty about it.” Joe tipped his beer bottle back all the way until it was finished. He set the bottle down, then looked over at Nick.

“You know, enough about me,” Joe said. “Here we go on and on about my situation, but you never talk about you. How the hell are you, man?”

Nick shrugged. “Fine.”

“How’s the job?”

“Work is work.”

“Dating?”

“A little bit. I had a drink with a girl I met on Tinder the other night.”

Joe grinned widely. “Oh, yeah? How’d that go?”

“Not great.”

Joe gave back an unsatisfied look.

“Sorry, man, I don’t really have any fun stories for you. You’re way more interesting than I am.”

Joe sighed. “I’m getting one more,” he said, while motioning to Steve for another beer. “How about you?”

Nick pulled out his cell phone, and Joe could see the screen was aglow with an incoming call. “Nah, I’m good. I got to take this.” While turning away, he added, “Speaking of chicks.”

Joe felt a grin arise on his face. “There we go!” he called out, as Nick stood to his feet. “Who are you hiding?” he asked. But by then Nick had his back turned, on his rapid stride through the barroom door and out onto the sidewalk. He’d answered his phone, but his voice was unheard amidst the droning music.

As soon as he was out of sight, Joe felt his grin vanish as his own phone called out to him. It was undeniable. It almost screamed at him. Without feigning any reluctance at all, he grabbed it.

There was indeed a reason why he couldn’t resist it all night—he was waiting for Jennifer to reply to him. He couldn’t resist trying to contact her earlier in the day. It seemed he had to, after that bonkers dream. And—he still had her number in his cell phone, even after all these years. He had no idea if it was still good or not. But after staring at it for long enough, while nestled in his bed, nursing his hangover, with the strange blue glass ball sitting on the nightstand next to him, he started texting her. It began as a simple enough message, just a friendly greeting, while asking if it was still her number. He even casually mentioned he’d had a dream about her last night. Of course, mere seconds after he hit Send, it didn’t sit well with him at all, so a few minutes later he texted her again, saying sorry for the super-random message, but he just wondered where she went off to and he hoped he heard from her.

Unfortunately that message sat even worse with him.

The rest of the day he’d felt burning anxiety, and each time he glanced at his phone he hoped to see that a new text had arrived—Jennifer’s reply, letting him know that everything was all good. He wanted that message, so badly, something with exclamation points and smiley faces, something girly and warm. Something that said hey, it’s good to hear from you! and all of his concerns would be gone in a flash.

But he never saw it. It was killing him.

His beer had arrived, so he took a deep sip from it. Then, he turned back to his phone and opened up a web browser. Uncontrollably, he watched his fingers taking him to Facebook, a place he hated yet couldn’t stop visiting. He and Jennifer were Friends—they’d connected during a brief spell when he and his old high school classmates were active on the platform. He entered in his old, default password, one that always left him a bit surprised when it actually worked. Lo and behold, it worked yet again, and a news feed popped up, displaying intensely personal information about people he hadn’t thought about in years. He also had notifications for unread messages in some inbox that he didn’t even know how to check. His profile picture was a photo of himself that was half a decade old. In it he wore a backwards hat and looked into the camera with total disdain. That more or less represented his attitude when it came to social media. He was getting older though, so every time he saw that photo he made a mental note that he really needed to replace it. But he still hadn’t done so, for fear that such activity—the mere shuffling of a profile pic—would be published, without his consent. That seemed like the worst outcome of all. He found that kind of automation to be absolutely infuriating. He sighed impatiently as he cycled through his friends, until finally, he found her—Jennifer Carter. He clicked on her profile, and then went straight into her photo album, which was his destination all along. He yearned to see her.

Scrolling through her images, and of course she looked every bit as gorgeous and lively as he remembered her. She hadn’t changed one bit. Most of the pictures were in North Carolina, so Joe had to guess that’s where she’d gone back to, which wasn’t surprising. It appeared she’d been enjoying life very much since they’d parted ways so many years ago. He cycled past numerous pictures of her with friends and family, as well as with classmates and colleagues, and several with some dude. His name was Ryan and he was presumably her boyfriend. He didn’t outwardly appear to be a douche, and so that made Joe happy.

But then a chord struck within him, while glimpsing image after image of her and seeing the woman she had become. Surely the alcohol in his system had something to do with it, but in the moment he suddenly felt certain that he should not have waited so long to reconnect with her. He should have tried much sooner. Everything he’d been looking for had been right in front of him all along. Danielle was great—he genuinely liked her, even loved her. But Nick was right—everything he had with her was temporary. It was fleeting. It couldn’t last.

But Jennifer—she was forever.

It was her—it had always been her. Things were so obvious in retrospect. The buzzing sensation coursed through his entire body, thick with nostalgia and desire, hitting him like a freight train. He remembered how crazy he’d been about her, once upon a time. It was a craziness he missed badly. He almost felt a tear welling in his eye.

The bar began to feel wobbly around him. His night had taken a strange turn, he knew, feeling the bar spin, and his heart pounding inside of his chest. It was the alcohol pushing things along, certainly, but it was also desperation, and something else, something he couldn’t quite qualify—but God, it was real.

He was deep into her photos, having reached all the way back into her college years. He scanned through them quickly, and eagerly, but now he froze, for the image his eyes laid upon made the warmth within him vanish, and in its place came a rush of goosebumps.

It was a selfie, and in it she was beaming as always. It was a sunny day, and clearly quite windy, as her blonde hair was tousled and messy. That was hauntingly familiar in its own right, but not as much as the sunglasses she wore—sparkling and blue-tinted, with mirrored lenses, the exact same ones he’d seen before. And the final touch—in the background he could see the beach, the ocean, and the sky, in dazzling succession. Joe felt the world spin around him, like he was back in the carnival once more.