You fiddle with your phone, flicking through the pictures, messages, and contacts. You press up and down between ‘Mark’ and ‘Mom’.

‘I need to talk to mom, but… at that point, I may not want to hang out with Mark’ you feel the uncertainty of ‘what ifs’ come rushing in. What if you slip up and say something you shouldn’t know? What if you say something too late, though? And ‘it’ resurfaces? What if you saying the wrong thing made ‘it’ resurface? You start to think if you yourself should take the medication, forget the same as him.

Tears fall onto the screen of your phone, you quickly wipe them away.

‘I… I want to hold on to those memories’

Plip. Plip. The tears still fall as you think about how you’re being selfish, how you should tell him.

Somehow, you found yourself taking a bath, mind fuzzy.

“Ugh…” you rub your eyes, trying to think back to what you were doing.

‘I was…’ you remember feeling like you just needed to relax, the stress was getting to you, so you drew a bath to calm your nerves. ‘…right…’

You look over to your phone sitting on the floor, in reach. You wipe off your hands with a towel and grab it.

‘I can do this.’

You dial Mark and wait for him to pick up.

“Hey?” His voice answers.

“Hey, it’s (f/n),” you swish some of the water around with your feet, “When did you… want to g-go out?”

“I don’t have many plans for tomorrow,” you hear him shift the phone, “Are you in the bathroom?” he asks a bit quietly.

You blush, “N-no, why?”

“The acoustics are messing with the call…”

The line goes silent for a bit.

“So… tomorrow…” he breaks the silence, “Did you want to go out and get a few drinks or did you just want to stay in and play a few games?”

You put your hand to the phone as to reduce any echo, “Anything is fine with me, just let me know a time.”

“Okay, let’s say around nine,” he snickers, “by the way, that doesn’t work,” he hangs up.

You set the phone back down and look at your hand, completely pruned up. You heave a sigh and get up and out of the bathtub.