Click to Subscribe - By L. M. Augustine Page 0,31

both. This area is not exactly a sight to see. In the distance I can see the tops of much larger, much nicer houses—Cat’s neighborhood. For an instant, a pang of regret comes over me. I wish I could be there with her, laughing and debating about random things and having ice cream eating contests like we used to. But instead? I’m stuck here.

I try not to think about it.

Beyond Cat’s neighborhood lies the lake she and I always used to go to, which is located off to the right side of town. The lake is about a quarter mile long with a small, one-house island located in its center, and its water shimmery and calm. Every week in the summer when I was kid, I used to kayak across the lake and out to that mini island with my mom and dad. Most of the time we capsized, or spent more energy into random splash wars than we did actual kayaking.

We used to have a competition to see who could kayak to the island first, and the winner would receive bragging rights until next time. They would also be called, “Your Highness” by the two losers, and let me tell you, it’s pretty freaking awesome to be called “Your Highness” by your own parents, especially in public. So one can say I had some pretty serious drive to win.

The best part of the competition wasn’t the prize, though, but how serious we were about it. We would trash talk each other, try to knock each other’s kayaks overboard, and we seemed to find every possible way to beat out the others. I remember how Dad once capsized Mom’s kayak with his paddle when they were racing to the island, and she totally flipped out at him, swam to catch up with his kayak, then pulled him from his seat and dragged him into the water with her. The two of them started fighting and laughing and splashing each other and I just kayaked by, smiling, not realizing how lucky I was to have my family so strong and intact, not realizing how all that love I felt at the time would only come back to haunt me.

I return to my bed, fighting back tears. I miss Mom. I miss Dad. But more than that, I miss us. I miss those simple times back on the lake, when we didn’t need to worry about anything, when we could just enjoy each other’s presence and that’s all there was: enjoyment. No catch. No fear. No nothing but each other.

We were such a tight-knit family back then, and now we’re nothing. It still doesn’t feel real, honestly, like this is all some elaborate dream and we’ll go back to being normal soon enough. But in my heart, I know that will never happen. It’s as if the tighter we were, the harder we were ripped apart.

I don’t want that to happen to Cat and me.

I remember what my mom once told me: “If you care about someone, no matter what, fight for her.”

My fists clench, and I take in a long, deep breath.

I care about Cat.

I’m not going to sit around and hope an email has fixed all of our problems

I’m going to fight for her.

***

I don’t know what I’m doing.

One second I’m standing in my bedroom, staring at my hands and telling myself that I need to fight for Cat before it’s too late, and the next I find myself outside, my coat on, running down the street to god-knows-where. It takes me a few seconds to realize I’m heading to Cat’s house, the one place where I can always go to, the one place where I’m always safe.

And I’m going back.

The air is thick and misty as I run, and the smell of fallen leaves is everywhere. I gulp in some fresh air, clearing my head. I try not to think about what a horrible idea this is or even what I’m going to say to Cat, because I know that no matter what, I have to see her again, know that I can’t go without her any longer. It’s only been a day away from her, but it feels like eternity has come and gone, like she ran off with a part of me and I need to get it back.

I need to get her back.

My legs carry me all the way there, and I slow my pace as I reach her house.

This late at night it’s dark outside,