Remind me

There's two of them on the mattress that she's moved on to the floor, four of us on the bed and one sitting in a corner on the couch, staring intently into the laptop screen. The two on the mattress are together, you can tell by the way they're comfortable with the angles of each other's bodies, moving slightly at the same time, a little here, a little there, till they're sitting just right.We're all playing Taboo and she cheats a little, helping him with a word although she isn't on his team. I suppose that's a form of adoration too, and rather sweet. I'm sitting here observing. If there's one thing I've learnt, it's the significance of just looking at things. Patterns are important, and paying attention you realize there are a lot of times when you will find yourself in the same settings, albeit with people and places that aren't the same.
It often makes me wonder if the comfort I derive from being around people comes from the presence of those particular people, or from a situation I find some part of my past in.
We've ordered pizza, and when it arrives, half the people in the room declare they have no money, but we eventually end up finding enough anyway. It makes me smile because it's so very typical and, later as I sit in my bed at home talking to mum, it reminds me of myself back in high school- perpetually broke, and always ready for a new adventure. She laughs in agreement and asks if I'm broke at college. I sense carefully hidden guilt behind her laugh, because she has mentioned before how she doesn't like being unable to help me more than paying for my tuition. It always leaves me wondering why she feels obligated to do more than she already is, because what she does now is something I will never be able to repay.
I shake my head carefully, it's a little more complicated than just being broke or not. I suppose I could be a little bit of both at college, but I never really think about these things until a lot later. Moments have always been very absolute for me, it's always a question of yes or no, but then later the lines get muddled up. So I try not to think too much, about anything.
Every fifteen minutes or so some of us will get up and go to the bathroom for a smoke. When it's time to go home I will spray myself with perfume and hope mama doesn't smell the smoke on me. I know she knows, but like many things, we don't talk about it.
All of them are going to college this fall and they'll be different when they come back to Karachi. But when they get together like this in someone's room, it will always be as the saying goes, just like the old times.
That's what I love about this place. Embedded memories.