The lights above us twinkled, our hands clasped together despite the almost unbearable warmth of the rink. Both of us were horrible at roller skating, propelling at an almost comically slow rate as people of various ages danced around us. We didn’t say anything, but our eyes spoke of laughter and friendship. We had coordinated our outfits, both of us wearing brown and white and bracelets with overpriced beads. And then the speakers came on. “It’s fine, it’s cool…” We muttered at the same time, glancing up as the other spoke. A mutual understanding crossed over our faces, and we, without missing a beat, sang the words together, our voices in harmony. “With her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof!” We skated around and around and around, smiling and belting out the words to our new favorite song. Fingers intertwined tighter; patches of light cast over us from the disco ball tied tight to the ceiling; two girls with messy hair and poor roller skating skills singing the same song. The days passed, our roller skates hung up, one last hug before you go. Your car pulls away from your old house, a SOLD sign slapped carelessly across the front. My eyes are welling up and tears are rolling down my cheeks but you can’t see me anymore. You’re already on the highway, the gas pedal almost floored, as you scramble to get away. You’ll have a new life, a new school, new friends. And I’ll have no one. Months go by. My phone still buzzes with text messages of how you hate it there and how you want nothing more than to come home. But how long is it going to last? You’re only human; of course you’ll move on from me. But I’m human, too, and I can’t seem to let you go. Chappell Roan blasts from my speakers, memories of you flooding my brain. I close my eyes and remember the day in the rink, singing Good Luck, Babe! As loud as we could. I like to imagine that you’re thinking of me too, of all the laughter we shared and the music we bonded over. Maybe you’re sitting in your room, too, as Chappell Roan’s voice pours in from your headphones. Maybe, just maybe, we’re even listening to the same song.