this isn't any easier

I'm at Frères's.

Nomi, I really should be calling her-- that's her first name after all, and we mostly try to keep it from her parents we indirectly named her after her family's. . . things.   So I'm at Nomi's-- I left a note and everything, saying I'm with a friend. She's been trying to get me to see her for years, and I've. . abandoned her. Like I did everyone else. Frères, I didn't have an excuse and she knew that. If I'm in France, how can I not visit her? It's been four years since we graduated, and I've only seen a handful of people.

I wonder how much people knew. Frères Nomi doesn't, that much I can tell, as she talks on and on about Shiraz's victories-- both team-wise and personally. And I fake it, because it doesn't hurt as much as it used to. She could tell something was off, because I wasn't gushing and laughing like we used to. She wants me with her for the whole month, and is going to force me back home for the New Year. She says it's easier if I'm with her already. I guess. It's true I have to visit home again for those days, though Frères says there's always a spot for me at her table. 

They know a little about Britain-- Geography again from friends, and apparently she's been picking up the oversea Prophets. She worried about me, and I told her I was fine. She didn't say anything, but I think she noticed that when we were drinking with her family, it took me a while to talk about Shiraz. Figure out to say to her. I mean, I'm sure she'd be fine with it, but it's still a secret I've kept for years, and if she knows, everyone will know.  And I don't know if I can do that. I don't even know what Shiraz would do.

My sisters are calling. I should go. 

I miss the caves already. At least there I could isolate