Song: “Cassiopeia” by Anju

Juliana felt a measure of relief when she found the beach deserted. The only thing worse than Cassie’s absence would’ve been her presence—that smug little crooked smile.

The clouds unleashed their burden as Juliana sank down onto the sand. She watched a raindrop roll down her arm and remembered the day she’d met Cassie.

“Hi, my name is Juliana, and I’m an alcoholic.”

“Hi, Juliana.”

The creaking of folding chairs had stopped altogether when Cassie took the podium.

“Cassie. Alcoholic.”

“Hi, Cassie.”

Their stale coffee had grown cold as they’d talked. Juliana eventually yielded to the church staff’s passive-aggressive chair folding. Cassie either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Juliana realized later that it must’ve been the latter; Cassie noticed everything and cared for nothing—except maybe Juliana. Once.

They’d reached their cars as it had begun to rain.

Juliana felt the rain roll down her back now and did not move to take cover. The waves pulsed before her like a heartbeat, and she sat transfixed.

“Jules!”

Juliana recognized her roommate’s voice but didn’t turn to look until Joan sat beside her.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Juliana felt the bottle slide out of her hand and watched as Joan tucked it into her purse.

“Come on, Jules. Let’s go.”

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