The Way We Were

I cringed after I had said the words. The silence between us was audible, and I peered at her from underneath my lashes as we continued to walk the track.
Her jaw was taut, but she looked more pensive than angry.
"They weren't bad pills, Caitlin," she replied quietly.
I forced back my frustrated sigh as I recalled the years of our childhood and compared it to now. How she had gotten so caught up in drugs, I don't know. But every time I looked at her, I saw her as my childhood best friend, not as the mere acquaintance in gym class that she had become since our falling out. It broke my heart.
"But anyway," she began more confidently, "How did you spend your winter break?"
Sober, I thought grudgingly.
This time I released a sigh, but one that was dreamy.
I talked about the fun things that I did, the places that I saw. She twisted her hair the way she always did as she listened. Her laugh was like chimes on a windy day, and it almost felt like how it used to be.