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"You look like you're on another planet!" Naomi comments, laughing.
"A bit nostalgic, I guess," I laugh, thinking surely the past is in the past. "It's amazing to see you after all this time! I can't believe you're really here."
Naomi smiles and laughs. "I know exactly what you mean! Ever since I saw you at the supermarket, I've been having flashbacks. I went through a bunch of memorabilia, and found something I've been dying to show you."
I am surprised that even after all this time, Naomi and I are so comfortable with each other. It's almost as though we were never separated, except we're older and arguably more mature. I wonder how I could have ever lost touch with such a great person.
"Come!" Naomi exclaims, grabbing my hand like we're ten years old again, only now her warm touch feels sensual and womanly on my skin. She leads me to the back of the Penthouse, too focused on her task that she doesn't even let me take in the rest of the place, and there is much to see.
There are boxes everywhere in a bedroom that is at least the size of my and Denise's apartment. I wait for her to locate the old treasure she's found, and recognize some of the belongings strewn on the made bed. A sky blue pashmina I bought her at a kitschy boutique during a family trip because it was the same color as her eyes. A picture frame we'd painstakingly glued together as kids, with a photo of the two of us in our softball uniforms, holding hands and raising our arms victoriously in the air.
A wave of emotion threatens to overpower me as a plethora of positive memories come rushing back, all at once. Winded, I sit down on the edge of the bed. As though sensing the change in my disposition, Naomi turns away from her search, holding up a bound blue book that looks starkly familiar. She smiles and seats herself on the bed beside me, our thighs grazing together, causing the heat to propagate throughout my body. I can't help but wonder if she is also enduring a confusing melee of emotions.
"Remember this?" she asks, and our fingers brush together as they trace the glued lettering of our initials. Of course I remember the book, since it was the closest thing either of us ever had to a diary. We open it, resting the back of it on our laps and leaning close together. Naomi glances at me, and our gaze lingers on the other's eyes and lips. Her eyes are filled with the same intensity and curiosity as the night we'd shared our first kiss and slowly felt the contours of each other's body, before her brother found us.
Now we're older and more reasonably equipped to deal with both the emotional and physical aspects and consequences of our actions. I don't know about Naomi's previous experiences, and if she's ever been with a woman. I've been with my roommate Denise several times now, and largely enjoyed myself, to say the least. There is no doubt I am completely aroused by Naomi, who has only blossomed into a more gorgeous creature. And I feel completely comfortable with her, making me imagine how natural it would feel to explore each other's bodies since we've already shared almost everything else.
Our eyes roam back to the notebook and we laugh our way through half of it, until we come upon a page entitled "boys we've kissed".
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