For the first few days of spring break, I visit my friends from Chicago. I know it's probably not good for me to relish in my old life, but I just want to go back in time for a little while. I would give anything to spend one more day here in the past. I read once that if you were to spend one last day on earth, you'd want it to be an ordinary day. No skydiving, no treasure hunting. Just a normal day.

I think it's true, in some ways. I think I'd like to go to school with Eli and Drew one last time. We'd joke around during our history class together and Mr. Murray would turn purple and say, "do you have something to share with the class boys?" We never did. After school, I would go straight home. I'd skip work. Mom would be there waiting for me, her eyes bright and unburdened, her smile wide and real. We'd go see a movie together. We'd go to an amusement park. We'd go skydiving for all I cared.

Really, though, I know what I want. I would give anything to talk to my mom again. Just talk. That's it. It could be about anything. Mom could even be reading off some lawn mower instruction manual. All I want is to hear her real voice one last time.

I meet Eli and Drew at a burger place in one of the shopping districts. John and Stef wanted me to stay in the more populated areas. I guess it helps make Chicago seem less like home.

"So...Easton Pier..." Eli starts, having trouble with beginning the conversation. There's a dull tension hanging in the air. I haven't talked to them much since I moved to Halson. They check up on me every so often, which is nice of them, but I do feel guilty for not reaching out to them more. I guess, in a way, I've been wanting to forget my past. "How's Colorado?"

I look down at the table. I'm not very hungry, but I still want my burger to get here already. "It smells better there." We chuckle.

"Sounds about right," Drew adds on. "Is the soccer team good?"

"Yeah it is actually," I say with a smile. "Maybe even better than the one here."

Eli clutches a hand to his heart. "Even better? That's impossible. You must be mistaken." He's speaking in a mock British accent.

Drew adjusts his glasses. "Yes, indeed, a mistake," he adds on with a horrible accent of his own.

"No no. Check with the prime minister herself. I'm sure it's true," I chime in.

"This certainly cannot be," Eli says with sudden vigor. "My family has been playing football since before Queen Elizabeth herself took the crown."

"Oh that's not very old." Drew shakes his head. "My family has been playing soc–football since the neanderthals first played with a dead rat's skull."

"That's disgusting, Drew," Eli comments with his nose wrinkled.

"Ah," I start, my finger pointed towards the ceiling. "But my family has been playing football since they were amoebas kicking around their own nuclei."

Drew presses his lips together for a moment, a hand placed contemplatively underneath his chin. "I'm sure we all develop from the same amoebas, though. Right?" His mock British accent is gone and I'm thankful.

"Possibly." Eli scratches his eyebrow. "Either way, I'm glad you like your new team." He pauses again, taking in a deep breath. "I know Halson is far, but Drew and I really like seeing you again. It's like the good old times. Except the difference is that I'm now the coolest one of the group."

Drew lets out a muffled sort of laugh. "Yeah right. Who was the coolest one before?"

Eli pretends to think for a moment. "Maybe East. I mean the whole food poisoning incident really brought our popularity down a notch, Drew." We all laugh.

"Oh that was bad!" I say, shaking my head. "I'm so glad I didn't order the lasagna."

"Oh you better be glad." Drew pushes up his glasses. "Let me tell you, having your butt explode off of you in the corner stall of the boy's bathroom does not give you a good reputation."

Eli places a hand onto his forehead. "And I was in gym class, East. Imagine what I had to go through, running two laps on the track while holding back a gallon of acid lasagna."

I shake my head again. "You guys are disgusting," I manage to say through my laughs. "I do have one question to ask, though." I'm grinning from ear to ear. "Has Taylor asked about me any? Cause I'm totally cool with long distance."

Eli smacks his hand on the table and lets out a guffaw. You'd think he's high on something by the way he's acting, but that's just the way he is. "Taylor?!" He manages to squeeze out.

Drew shakes his head. "You really not over her yet, East?" He says in a mocking tone, a snide smile on his lips.

"No way, dude. In fact, you should call her up. I'd love to experience a few more of her morning breath make out sessions." I try to keep a straight face, as if I were truly sincere about this stuff.

"Oh man." By now, Drew's having a hard time keeping his composure. "What about the time she showed you her special sketchbook."

Eli starts cracking up again. "I have never seen you run faster, East!"

"I wanted to ask her for copies," Drew adds and Eli and I start laughing even harder.

"Oh East," Eli cooes in a high-pitched voice. "Do you like my sketchbook? You should really come see some of my paintings at home. Those are extra special." He wiggles his eyebrows at the last part.

I punch Eli in the arm. "She did not have paintings!" I shudder. I could only imagine what kind of demonic stuff she can come up with in the darkness of her room.

"You're right," Drew comments. "She probably had pictures."

Eli and I crack up again, finding the idea both hysterical and horrific. I'm pretty positive Taylor never stalked me, but I think she definitely would have wanted to.

When our burgers finally arrive, I actually feel hungry. Talking with Eli and Drew makes me feel normal, like everything that has happened in the past few months is just some horrible nightmare I woke up from. In fact, for most of the nights I'm there, I actually sleep well. All except for the last night.

I'm laying on the floor of Eli's bedroom next to Drew. The light of the streetlamps outside peek through the blinds, casting orange lines on the opposite wall. A layer of dread encompasses my stomach. Tomorrow I return to Halson. Tomorrow this dream ends. Tomorrow I'm forced back into reality.

My stomach writhes.

I desperately wish I'm asleep. Nausea is beginning to course its way into me, like vines slowly making their way through my veins. I want to stay here. I want to be with Eli and Drew. I want to pretend I'm just having a sleepover and that in the morning, Mom will be waiting to pick me up. When I wake up, she'll be in the kitchen talking to Eli's mom. Eli, Drew, and I will realize that I'll have to leave soon and we'll try to hide in his closet or underneath his bed so Mom wouldn't be able to find us.

My stomach groans because I long so desperately for that to be true. And a part of me feels guilty that it's not, even though I know it's not my fault. I just don't want to leave Chicago behind. I don't want to leave Mom. I don't want to wake up.

A week later, Naiya and I decide to go for a hike. I feel a little rejuvenated after the trip, like I woke up from a long nap. It's a good thing, I think. I feel almost as though my whole identity in Halson is centered around my brokenness. As much as my visit to Chicago hurt, I think it helped me remember who I was before.

"You should invite your friends over here sometime," Stef says just as I'm putting on my shoes to leave. "They haven't tried my carbonara yet."

I smile. Stef's carbonara has got to be one of my favorite foods. I think she could really do well as a chef in the big leagues, not just in small town Halson, Colorado. Maybe I'll enter her in Chopped or something. That would be exciting.

"I know," I say, my smile fading.

Stef sighs and straightens out the cuff of my t-shirt. "Are you sure you'll be okay on the hike?"

I try to turn away from Stef but she tugs on my shoulders. "You don't have to be so worried all the time. I'm fine." My tone sounds harsher than I intended.

Stef only frowns. "Just keep your cell phone on, okay?" She squeezes my shoulders before turning and going back into the kitchen, probably whipping up some new recipe she's trying.

"Okay."

The trail is a good drive away from the town, around thirty minutes. It's April fools day tomorrow, which not only means the gang is going to be cooking up their best pranks, but it means it's almost the end of the school year. August seems like decades ago. I was a completely different person back then.

"How was California?" I ask while we trek up the mountain. The dry dirt underneath us kicks dust into our eyes and the heat of the sun burns at my exposed skin. Still, I enjoy the stillness of the air and the smell of spring flowers peeking out from the undergrowth. Nature has a way of bringing forth a sense of calm no matter how someone feels. It's reliable, predictable. Even it's most terrible storms don't frighten me as much as the storms humanity itself creates.

Naiya takes in a deep breath. She seems to love the mountain air as much as I do. "It was really fun. I like it there."

"What'd you do?"

"We just kind of hung out with our cousins and stuff. We went to San Francisco for a day and that was nice. A little touristy but that's a given. We also went to the Redwood forest. Not as cool as the mountains but still pretty cool." Her voice is smooth and delicate, kind of like the flowers. I imagine her voice as one of those long, purple wildflowers. They look like stalks of lavender almost, but they're different. They're intricate and beautiful, but not in a showy sort of way. Maybe I just like hearing her speak.

Naiya glances at me. "How was Chicago?" Her voice sounds different when she asks this question.

I look down at the ground, watching for rocks and roots waiting to catch my toe. "It was good. It felt nice to be back for a little while." I refuse to look up.

"It's good to visit your old friends."

Old friends in my old home in my old life. I'm someone new now. My brain was transplanted. For all I know, some scientists implanted these fake memories into my head for experimentation. Let's make his life miserable. Only give him placebos. Make sure he lives with his jerk dad. Plant nightmares into his brain every time he falls asleep. We'll run some tests, find out if he'll become psychotic by June.

I take a deep breath. "It is good," I say, unsure how long it's been since Naiya spoke. "It helped me a little, being with them. Kind of brought me back to my roots, you know?"

"I can't believe your parents let you go."

"John and Stef, yeah. I've been trying to get my grades up—you know this already—but anyways they haven't been too upset with me because of that."

Naiya nods. "You're actually really smart, Easton. I mean, when we went to study chem together, you pretty much knew everything already."

"That's just because I didn't want to look stupid in front of you."

"That's not true, Easton," Naiya tells me. "You can't fake intelligence. I would know. You should see some of the kids in my classes." I smile at the last part.

The trail we're walking on is starting to get a little steeper and our breathing is getting heavier. I try to synchronize ours. "It was mostly Dr. Connely's idea." Naiya looks at me with a confused expression and I continue. "The trip to Chicago," I clarify. "She thought it might help me remember who I was before and maybe say goodbye to my old life. I feel like I've been clinging so desperately to it. It's all I can think about, as if my skull is slowly being filled up with water."

Naiya stares at me with an expression I can't name. The sun shines warmly down on us and I can feel a bead of sweat slowly making a path down my forehead. The air is still and it's then I realize we've stopped walking.

"Do you still feel like that?" She asks and I hear the hesitance in her voice.

I shrug, turn, and continue walking. "I feel a little clearer, but it still haunts me. My mom died, you know." I have no idea why I suddenly feel the urge to blurt it all out. "I came home from work one day and she was there. Just... Lying there. That's what really haunts me. Not the grief, not the guilt, not the anger. Just her cold, dead face staring up at me."

For some reason, I don't feel anything when I admit this to her. I'd imagined what would happen when I told Naiya. I would tell her and then a giant earthquake would suddenly occur. It would rip me in half so cleanly it would look like I was made of paper. Or maybe some guy from the French Revolution would mistake me for a king and chop my head off using a guillotine. The blade would be dull. Or maybe a U.F.O would come pick me up. They'll do experiments on me, give me daily doses of electric shocks. When they bring me back to Earth, I'll have seven heads and eighteen limbs. I'll only speak one-syllable words and I'll have to eat thinly cut slices of zucchini carefully shoved through my eye socket.

Instead, nothing happens. I continue walking, perfectly healthy and perfectly normal.

For the rest of the day, though, I do feel a lot better than I have been. Maybe it's telling someone, maybe it's the trip to Chicago, or maybe it's just the endorphins I'm getting from the exercise. I wouldn't know nor do I care. I just like being happy.