07

Ashe Williams

When I look up at the clock on the wall, I let out a small sigh. I've been working for a while and it's only 7:20. I sigh again wishing to be home in my bed. I restock a few things before I hear a familiar voice at the counter. "You've been here for a while huh?" Amara says. I turn around seeing her signature smirk on her face. "Literally since 6:30, I'm exhausted." I say, smiling. "What about you? What are you doing here?" I ask, leaning on the counter.

"I have a shift in a few minutes. Gotta put some new books up and clean." She says, shrugging.

"Maybe I could help?" I ask. "Sure, once you're done with your shift, of course." I roll my eyes at her getting back to work. A few long hours later, I'm finally done with my shift and it's 3:00pm. As I turned the coffee shop's lights off, I hear Amara behind me. "I got you some things." She says, smiling at me. She has a bouquet of my favorite flowers in her hand and a small gift basket.

"Thank you so much." I say, kissing her. "Of course baby, you deserve it." She says. "Let's go home. I'm really tired." I say, yawning mid sentence. When we get home, a thought runs across my mind. What's the meaning of Amara's name? How did her parents make up her name? I may ask her. I also have another suspicion. When I was young, I had a person just like Amara that meant the world to me.

She was my best friend. We did everything together. I don't remember her name, but I remember her face everyday. Could that have been Amara?

"Ashe? You're really quiet." Amara says. "I'm okay. Just thinking about some things." I respond. "What's on your mind?" She says, sitting up to talk to me. "Well, I was wondering how you got your name. What made your parents name you Amara?" I ask. "That's a good question. I was made out of love. My dad and mom were both Spanish and they always called each other "amor" because it meant love. See where I'm heading?" She says. I nod letting her know to continue.

"Well one day, my parents got into a argument like they usually do, they made up and ended up getting on the topic of baby names since my mom was already pregnant with me. My dad eventually apologized again and called her his love again. Then boom, my mom brainstormed it and she got Amara. It doesn't really make sense but at the same time it does. She just switched some letters." She finishes, shrugging slightly.

"That's actually really cute." I say. "What about you? Why did your parents name you Ashe?" She asks. I sigh. "We're going to start off at a week before Christmas to make this short." I say, sitting up. "So, my dad and mom still didn't have a name for me even a week before I was born. It was almost Christmas time and I could be due any moment. Well, on Christmas Day at exactly 12:00 I was born and when we got back home my dad came down the chimney as Santa." I say, laughing slightly.

"He wanted to make my siblings dreams come true so he actually came down the chimney and he has ash all over him. You should know the rest." I say. "Tell me anyway, I like listening to you." Amara says. "He gave my mom her presents and said let's name her Ashe. Then there goes me." I finish, smiling. "That was nice of your dad to do that." She adds.

I nod zoning out again. If she is my childhood best friend, does she remember anything? Would she remember me? We were so close, but I had to move away because my mom wanted me to peruse my drawing and art interest. "Ashe, what else is on your mind?" She asks, snapping me out of my thoughts. Just tell her. Just..tell..her.

"So, I had a childhood friend. Just like any other kid. But she was different. Our moms went to college together and ended up finding each other before both of us were born so we grew up together. We would spend every moment with our lives together. I didn't know what love was as a 6 year old but, I knew I definitely felt something when I looked at her." I say, looking at her. She nods telling me to continue.

"Then, when I turned eight I had to move away because my mom wanted me to continue to pursue my art and music interests. She was devastated. We begged our mom's to let me stay but mine didn't listen. I don't remember her name, but I remember giving her a gift. I don't remember what kind, but I gave her something before I got in the car to leave." I explain.

"That's so sad. It sounds like you were extremely connected to her." She says. "Maybe you'll find her." Amara says. I think she's you. "Well anyways, I need to remember things first." I say, laughing slightly. I see Amara smile at me. You look exactly like her. That same dimpled smile. I hope you remember me.

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