Always expect the unexpected

“No, you’re not!”

My phone suddenly fly out of my hand. “Hey!” I sit from the laying down I did just moments ago. “Mo, I know you’re upset with me but please don’t take it out on my phone, okay?”

Morwenna “Mo” Hattersley has been my best friend since as long as I can remember. Our fathers were college best friends became partners in Jackson and Hattersley and partners, a law firm they’ve built together for nearly three decades. Our mothers instantly became friends after they met our fathers, had had so many double dates, girls days and nights sent them on the fast train to become best friends too.

And now they're like our extended family. Shared birthdays, celebrations, holidays and vacations.

Morwenna and I, we were truly what people say the opposite faces in the same coin. Being the go-getter, you-only-live-once kinda girl she is, Mo will be the one girl you find bungee-jumping, zip-lining, or do anything adrenaline-related (because adrenaline rush was so addictive, her words not mine, that crazy girl). And every the fashionista, her obsession on fashion world and celebrities is bordering unhealthy. Mo will be the first to know updates on fashion, celeb gossips, and what-oh-so-in on the internet.

But the unhealthy obsession was what make her good at what she's doing as a professional shopper.

Meanwhile I, on the other hand, well, I am me. I, of course, chose to spend my free time hiding behind the pages of romance novels I love so much. Or, laying on my hammock in my parents’ backyard, under the sun, listening to some ballad or acoustic songs with my headphone on. Or, had snuggle fest with Boo, my giant brown teddy bear a give from an ex, binge-watched Netflix on the couch.

I still did those, but instead of in the backyard, I have a hanging hammock chair which I put in the corner of my room near the floor to ceiling glass window with the central park view. And I didn't bring Boo with me when I moved out of the house.

I binge-watch Netflix snuggle buddy-less and without the 'chill' part. (You know what I mean). Sigh.

She was the blonde to my brunette.

The skinny to my curvy.

The super model goddess to the plain me.

“Whatever! But you, Bryanna, have to pinky swear me you won’t be there!”

Her and her pinky swear. I'm shaking my head in my head.

Yeah, she was the fun to my nerd, all right.

We're in my room. I am sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing my respective pajama--thread bare, very old gray t-shirt with holes, I admit, and flanel pants with smiley face all over them. In the meantime, Lady Bryanna is wrap in black silk dress.

It’s crystal that Mo doesn’t like my plan. She’s not only doesn’t like it, she hates it with all of her. Look at how her stilletto ruins my rug with her pacing. That’s how she tried to control herself before she’d go ballistic on me.

“But, Mo, I have to do this. I need to do this. Then I’ll be done.”

At least, I can promise her that.

Hearing the resign in my voice, her pace slows. I know her intention is good, she don’t want me to get hurt, again, but she have to understand that I have to do this, for me. For me so I can get my closure and move on with my life. For me because I don't want to have any regret. For me so I can say my goodbye.

What she don’t know is--at least not yet-- that from now on, everything won’t be the same anymore.

No matter what.

****

*Six months ago*

I close my eyes, massaging my forehead hoping the headache these sheets on my desk brings would lessen. It’s only ten in the morning and my head feels like ready to explode. This past couple months, I’ve been slaving myself on this project for a brand new hotel downtown. I can’t complain, though, the paycheck will be worth it.

“Hey, girl, whatsup?” I answer the call after checking the picture on the screen.

“Happy birthday!” she yells, literally in my ear so I have to drag the phone away because I want to keep my eardrum safe.

“Mo, this is the third times you shout it in three hours. And for the third times, I want to say thank you and ask you to stop,” I tell her half-amused half-serious.

“And here I am, committed to give it to you twenty-four times. It’s your 24th birthday, girl.”