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normal.”
    In the quiet that followed, Liz seemed to be mulling over the wild story, again hugging and releasing me, and inserting little phrases like, “I can’t believe you’re here,” and “A hospital all this time? Really?” and “I thought I’d never see you again!” I noticed Liz pucker her brow at a thought that must’ve surfaced, but in the next moment she continued talking. “Some time you’ll have to explain how it all happened, but not now. Right now you need to tell me that you’ll be staying for a while. You will be, right? I mean, what are your plans? School and stuff?”
    “I’m going to register for fall semester, today actually. The schoolwork shouldn’t be a problem since I remember pretty clearly my last two semesters before the accident.”
    The same pucker in her brow came back, and then she asked, “Do you remember Nick?”
    The comment came suddenly, guarded but sincere, whacking my heart around a bit. Not wanting to tell her that his love was as current as the morning newspaper, and afraid to trust my voice on the matter regardless, I nodded.
    She persisted, with care. “Have you seen him lately?”
    Again, I nodded. But then I decided it wouldn’t work to nod through the rest of our conversation and ended up saying, “Yeah, earlier today.”
    “Stop.” It hit her the same time it hit my emotions. “And does he know what happened to you, where you’ve been—”
    Another nod.
    “Stop it.”
    “I know,” is all I could say. Obviously, Liz knew about the engagement. Perhaps she even knew the fiancé.
    I lowered my eyes to the linoleum floor and began visually tracing the diamond patterns there. Out of anyone, Liz knew the connection Nick and I shared. She was there when the first seeds had blossomed all those years ago in History class. She was the friend who heard the details of the first time Nick came to my apartment. She’d even sent us off on our first date. And she saw our relationship grow and solidify during those sweet summer months way back when. Seeing me again must’ve brought back all those memories, taking them to a more current place in her head.
    “Heather, what are you going to do?”
    “ Oh, you know.”
    Liz shook her head, not only in response, but also as a residual reaction to my fantastic circumstance. Her head persisted to shake.
    “So, what have you been up to lately?” I asked, forcing a smile.
    It might have been the way Liz’s face was sympathetically bent, or the tremor in my voice, or the sudden awareness of how unbelievably cruel life could be, but an uninvited chuckle finally surfaced. The puzzled look on Liz’s face only made me laugh more, and then I couldn’t stop myself. Before we both knew it, tears were gathering in my eyes. Little drops formed in their corners and then began a path down my cheeks.
    “Okay, this is worse than I thought,” said Liz.
    “I know,” I got out between the laughter, trying to keep my mouth from pulling into a frown and reversing the emotion.
    “Come here, sweetie.” Liz scooted closer and wrapped her arm around me. “If it’s any consolation, you still look like you just walked off the cover of a magazine. That hasn’t changed.”
    I rested my forehead on my friend’s shoulder, still laughing, and then lifted my head, confident I looked more like a psychopath than a magazine cover. “I’m not angry,” I tried to say as I breathed back my emotions. “I don’t even care.”
    “Of course you don’t.” Liz patted my back, properly sympathetic. Then she left the couch suddenly.
    “Where are you going?” I asked while wiping my cheeks dry.
    “The Philippines.”
    “What?”
    “I’m getting you a tissue, dummy.”
    “Oh.” I sniffed my nose and made another little laugh, because everything was funny and nothing was funny. None of this was supposed to happen. Not the breakdown, not a despicable get-together with Liz, nothing about this day! Sullenly, I realized this was no different than