"Sorry, work has been a pain. Too much code to get through," Manish texts me.

I cuddle up even tighter onto my couch, as I gently tug the sleeves of my sweatshirt to blanket my arms properly. "It's all good. Remember how you almost failed your computer science lab because of an extra comma in your code?"

I can almost feel Manish wince with a slight sense of negative nostalgia over the phone. That sentence alone definitely sparked some unfortunate memories from his college life. "Man, I remember. I hated that class. Remember how I told you the average for the class' final was 58%?"

A slight feeling of cringe twists at my face, as I remember the final blow to the injury of that average. "And the professor refused to curve it."

Some college classes are bad, but this professor really made that class feel like trying to swim across the Arctic Ocean naked and coming out alive. "Yep, and that's the class that scared me out of coding any more in C#."

I snicker a little bit, as I feel him. Not because I can code, but the unfortunate memories of my dad trying to etch Python into my memory start to come back. By the end of our first session together, I wished that I had been eaten by a python instead of having tried to learn the language.

"Anyways, I have to run, Jaya. Got some errands to run."

I nod, and finish off the conversation with, "Sure. Later." I throw my phone back onto the couch as I flop back like a dead fish. Millions of thoughts buzz through my mind as to what I could do on my day off. Should I dust? Do my laundry? Binge watch The Sopranos?

I nod at the last option, as I pull myself back up to go get myself a hoodie from my closet so that I can watch it comfortably and not feel like my toes are going to break off. As I walk over to the closet, I can't help but notice the warm feeling that is fuzzing down my spine and all the way to my fingertips. It's been increasingly more common and I'm welcoming it with open arms since Hell's winter has frozen over in the Bay Area.

But right now, the one thing that I need to keep this warm feeling blanketed over me is one of my old hoodies and a few episodes of one of my favorite TV shows. I yank open my closet doors and dive right into the hanging display of clothes. As I'm digging through my closet to find an adequate hoodie, something up top catches my eye. My arm lifts itself and my fingers grab hold of it, and just by the leathery material brushing against my fingertips, I know exactly what it is.

I pull it off of the shelf, and stare down at what is basically my late teenage and early 20s documented in a shit ton of pictures. All the memories of Manish, Jen, and I are all embedded in this parting gift given to me on the day Manish left for Seattle.

I go back towards my bed and gently sit down on it so that I can go swimming in this sea of nostalgia. I brush off some of the dust resting on the book and flip open the top cover.

When I bask in the first few pictures, a smile breaks out on my face like pimples on my cheeks. The very first picture on there is of my 16th birthday. Manish was one of the first people who got to feed my cake, and he managed to take some of the icing and dot it right on my nose. The picture is of me staring at the camera with a look that's a mixture of offense, humor, and "I want to kind of rip your face off right now."

Little chuckles bounce inside of my chest, as the next picture is of Manish and I, arm in arm, smiling, with his signature luminous smile lighting up the picture. I shake my head, as memories of how stupid we were as teenagers keep on flooding my mind. I flip through the next few pages, as another set of pictures capture my attention. This time, the smile continues to grow bigger on my face.

It was at Manish's high school graduation. I had thrown on my favorite black dress, even though I usually hated wearing dresses, and Manish was wearing his blue graduation gown and cap with the gold tassel. I tried my best to apply some kajal before giving up and asking my mom to do it so I wouldn't look like a melting panda.

He was displaying his diploma, while we both displayed an explosive sense of joy. The familiar feeling of hoarseness at my lungs came scratching back as I remember how loudly I cheered for him when his name was called. My cheeks felt like they were going to shred and my heart felt like it was going to explode into flames with all the happiness pumping through it.

All the good memories that are flooding back make me feel like I'm going to drown at any time. In pure anticipation of the jog down memory lane, I massage my cheeks a little bit to help ease the future pain from all the smiling that's going to happen. I flip a few more pages, as we continue to walk down memories like a few New Year's parties, some outings, and a few others until we get to another giant milestone.

Pictures of my high school graduation are nestled in the thick book of joyous memories. My blue robe was zipped open to reveal the blood red dress hugging my figure, with a stole draped around my shoulders and front. My pink tinted lips are stretched out with a smile far enough to nearly touch the tassel hanging on the left side of my cap.

But the one thing that explodes out of the picture is Manish's combustible joy. Even amidst the usual cheer and chatter of the crowd at graduation, I could still hear Manish scream, cheer, and whistle when my name was called. When I swept through the crowd to find my parents, I found him first, and the first thing he did was engulf me in a rib crushing hug, followed by him picking me up and spinning me around enough to make me vomit on the field right there.

Tears start to fill my eyes, as memories of how happy we both were continue to spark in my mind like little firecrackers. A little lump of emotions starts to form at the back of my throat, but I try to swallow it back so that it doesn't choke me to death before I can get through this entire album. I sniffle a little bit, and continue to flip my way through the album to see what infectiously joyous memories are documented in the remaining pages.

Eventually, another set of photos comes along that is like another destination down the memory journey. Pictures of my 20th birthday are nestled into the pages. For my 20th birthday, Manish sprung the best surprise on me possible. Him and Jen conspired together to make my 20th birthday as memorable as possible. He whisked me away to a pricey Italian restaurant, which he knew I absolutely loved. I ordered whatever I wanted, and when it came to the bill, he didn't let me pay a single cent of it.

On the ride back home, he finished off the memorable sundae with the finest cherry on top. He plopped into my lap a birthday gift basket filled with all the things I loved, including scented candles, chocolates, and a DVD set version of The Godfather trilogy.

All these memories of that night keep rushing back and now the lump in the back of my throat is starting to choke me a little bit. The tears welled up in my eyes start overflowing onto my face, as I close the album to deal with this.

Right now, as I choke on the emotional lump hardening in the back of my throat, I'm also drowning in a sea of different emotions. Guilt for not cherishing these memories back when they were made, nostalgia for how good and simple those times were, and sadness because I wish times were as simple as that made sure to drown me and keep me submerged under their heavy waves.

I wipe the tears from my face and take a few breaths to calm myself down and make sure that I'm thinking with a clear mind. I take a few breaths to help my clarity and so that I'm not feeling melancholy throughout the rest of my day off. I clear my throat and try to look at this entire thing with a positive angle. I'm back in contact with Manish. He's back in my life, and you know what that means?

That means there's more time and opportunity for me to create more memories with him. I can create another album filled with memories that will cause me an endless wave of nostalgia several years from now. And this is a good time to start. I wipe any remaining tears that are crusting my face, as I give an affirmative nod. This is the right way, I think to myself, as I sit back a little bit.

Just as I start thinking about what I can do to form an even stronger friendship with Manish, I hear my phone buzz. My blotchy eyes dart towards my phone, where I see a text has popped up on the screen. I pick up the phone, and see that it's from Manish. The text reads, "Jaya, would you like to come over tomorrow evening at 5? I was thinking we can chill at my place, enjoy some coffee, and chat."

A little smile stretches at my lips, as that idea immediately brightens me up. He knows how to woo me with the three c's: coffee, chilling, and chat. As quickly as I can, my fingers hop around the screen to text back, "That sounds great. I'll see you then!"

I set my phone back down on the couch just as I see Manish like the text. The idea of coffee, chatting, and chilling is already making me excited and wishing that it will come sooner. At the same time, this is perfect. This is how I can make more memories with Manish.

And I'd argue this is the best starting point that I could have.

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I'm inclined to agree with Jaya. I think this IS the best starting point with Manish. So, do you think she's reliving nostalgia, or she genuinely still harbors some feelings for him? Let me know in the comments.

Hey everyone! How's life going? I thought I'd include a more nostalgic chapter and include some more past moments between the two characters to show how strong their bond was.

Anyways, I don't have much to say. I hope you liked the chapter!

As always, please vote/comment/share/follow/message if you like the chapter! And follow me on Instagram (svts.writes) for updates and announcements regarding my works! See you in the next chapter!

Love you guys,

Shree