Your Name

My first time at a club after starting college, I ran into my neighbor, Josh, who'd vanished a year ago. He had his arms around two scantily clad girls, looking like a total sleazeball. When he saw me, his eyes flicked over my chest, and he tsked. Later, he cornered me, pressed a finger to my lips, and leaned in, wanting me to say his name. That's when it hit me. He wasn't my Josh.

I saw Josh in the dimly lit hallway of "Pulse," the biggest, most chaotic club in the city. My roommate, Lisa, was celebrating her birthday there. I was late. Just as I was about to call her for the room number, I heard laughter echoing down the hall. A group emerged from the shadows, and I instinctively turned away, only to freeze when I recognized one of the men. It was the face that haunted my dreams, the face I’d known for almost my entire life. Josh, my childhood best friend, who the police had presumed drowned in the river a year ago.

I blinked hard, trying to convince myself I was mistaken. But the more I blinked, the closer I came to tears. There was no mistaking him. Josh had been a constant in my eighteen years, closer to me than anyone but my parents. And he was the guy I’d been secretly crushing on forever.

He had two girls clinging to him, dressed like they were headed to the beach. Maybe I stared too long because one of the guys with him noticed. He nudged Josh, smirking. “Looks like you’ve got some unfinished business, man. The girl’s about to cry.”

Josh glanced at me, his eyes lingering on my chest before he turned back, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Nah, way too skinny for my taste.” His friend laughed. Josh would never say something like that. But this guy… it was him. I bit my lip, holding up my phone. “Could I… maybe get your Snapchat?”

He looked at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “Nope.” His eyes flicked back to my chest. “Wouldn’t be worth the effort.” His friend roared with laughter.

This person was the polar opposite of the Josh I knew. Like two different souls inhabiting the same body. The Josh I knew was kind, gentle, like a warm summer breeze. I was so lucky to have him as my best friend.

Sophomore year, during winter break, I’d asked Josh to make me a promise: to pick me up after graduation. My oversized scarf hid my blushing cheeks as I asked. He just smiled, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners, and ruffled my hair. Fireworks exploded, filling the night sky as the New Year’s countdown began. I thought he couldn't hear me over the noise, so I leaned closer. “Josh,” I whispered, “will you come? After graduation?”

The fireworks were so loud, I could barely hear myself. But I heard his reply, soft and sincere: “Yeah.”

He broke that promise. I stood in the crowded graduation ceremony, searching for him, a wave of noise and chaos washing over me. He never came. All my hopes crashed down. When I numbly knocked on his family's door later, I found his parents looking ten years older. They told me, their eyes red and swollen, that...