I observe the passing surroundings through the open window, memories of the time spent in each place flooding my mind. I breathe in the muggy summer air, feeling the heat of the sun beat on my knees. I smile. I’m home. I hear the obnoxious squeaking of the brakes and feel the bus come to a stop, and I can’t stand up any faster. I glance out the window, and and my head whips around again, and I see two clearly excited people I haven’t seen in a while standing next to the bench at the bus stop. I push lightly against the person in front of me, so as not to annoy them, but to let them know that the need to hurry up and get out of the way. My feet won’t stop moving along with my swirling stomach, and I keep glancing anxiously out the window at them. They’re intently watching the open bus doors, waiting for me to officially arrive. I see my mom hopping from foot to foot, and my dad is wringing his hands. I understand their nervousness. It HAS been two years since I’ve seen them. The moment my feet hit the stairs I practically fly off the bus, yelling a haphazard “Thank you” over my shoulder at the bus driver behind me. I hear him say something back but I’m too busy being smothered by my mother to understand his words.
I hear the bus pull away, and I’m so incredibly glad to see them that my smile feels permanently stuck on my face. Their smiles and hugs make me feel so happy, and I realize for the first time how much I truly missed them. I climb into their car that had been parked in the Sandra’s parking lot and we drove to the house that I hadn’t visited since my first year in Europe. We pull into the driveway, and I can barely pry my sister off of me as soon as I climb out of the car. She hasn’t seen me in even longer than my parents. I feel her bone-crushing hug and smile because I’m home. She finally lets me go, but only after much coercion, and we walk into the house. And the very last thing I expect to happen, happens.
“WELCOME HOME!!!!!” Roars what seems like the entirety of everyone I’ve ever known. The house is suddenly filled with noise, people’s laughter, shouting and loud music. I’m held up in the foyer and bombarded with what feels like hundreds of people, one after another greeting me. Some I remember from my childhood, some I don’t.
“Steve! What up, my man!” Someone I vaguely recognise grabs my hand and pulls me into a man hug.
“Oh - uh - hey! How are you - uh -  man!” I truly wish I had some clue as to who this guy was, but with the exception of a very fuzzy memory of someone who semi-resembled this person, I have absolutely no idea.
He steps back and smiles with an incredibly straight, and incredibly white, smile. He’s extremely tall, at least a head taller than me, and he definitely looks like the football type. He laughs boisterously and looks at me with a teasing smile on his face. “You don’t remember me at all do you?” He says it like it’s a fact, not even as a question.
I guess I must’ve been too obvious about my lack of recognition, because he busts out laughing before I even have a chance to say, “uh - no, no I don’t.”
“Jack Missimi! We played soccer as kids together! I know I’ve definitely changed but I thought for sure you’d at least recognise me.” He looked at me expectantly, like all of a sudden I would just know who he was.
“Oh! Oh - yeah! Hey, dude - wow you really... grew up, man wow!” I barely remember him, but all I remember was a really gangly kid with crooked teeth who always wore clothes that were way too big for him. Wow. He’s grown up a lot.
He smiles awkwardly, and we talk for a while about how he quit soccer when he hit puberty and realized he was just a football man. I’m not gonna argue, because he looks like he could take down just about anyone I know. I start to tell him about my schooling when someone else butts in and he kinda just disappears as I am continually attacked with conversation.
I continue getting visited by people, old neighbors, friends from middle school, family and my parents’ friends. I feel extremely awkward, mostly because almost all of these people I haven’t seen since I was in sixth grade, and I really didn’t keep in contact with anyone except my best friend from middle school, who kind of faded out anyways after my first year. I haven’t seen him at all tonight. I guess he held no interest in me anymore..
I am utterly exhausted, and all I want to do was ditch this party and go to sleep or read a book, even though it’s only 7:30. I wander into the kitchen to grab something to ease the growling in my stomach. Most people are in the dining room and the hallway, so I’m grateful that I don’t have to deal with many people in the kitchen. The sun’s gone down, and the uncomfortable heat and artificial light is making  me even more tired.
I grab a large slice of pizza out of one of the boxes on the kitchen counter and sit on the couch in my living room. Surprisingly, the room is nearly empty, with only a few people in here, and none are making any effort to talk to me. I notice a girl sitting in the chair across from me, and she seems very engulfed in her book. She doesn’t look up, and I am trying to figure out who this girl is. I know I must know her, because everyone here are people I know. Or knew.
She seems vaguely familiar, like I should know who she is. Her medium blonde hair curtains some of her face, so I can’t really get a good look at her. I am going through a list of names of girls I used to know when she suddenly whips her head up and stares at me with somehow familiar piecing blue eyes.
“Why are you watching me?” She wastes absolutely no time in making me feel like a creep.
“I just - I wasn’t sure if I recognised you or not...”
She scoffs. “You wouldn’t remember me would you?” She laughs, rolling her eyes. “ I don’t even know why I came here, you obviously never cared about me.”
“I’m sorry, did I do something to you at some point in my life?” I’m shocked and a little annoyed at the attitude that she’s treating me with. Her sapphire eyes are staring into mine, annoyance, maybe even anger, clear in her mannerisms.
“I live across the street. You were my best friend for years, until you left, and I sent you letters every week for a year until I realized that you had absolutely no intention of responding to any of them?” My eyes widen. “Ring any bells, Stephen?”
I must’ve looked incredibly shocked as I said, rather stupidly, “Holy crap. You’re Willow Hayes.”