"Sure."
He steps forward to the door and pauses with a hand on it. "Thanks. I'll be back for lunch, okay?" Then he's out the door, cold morning air swirling into the warm kitchen.
I take my time cleaning up. There's a rag on the sink next to the faucet. I don't see any soap, but the dishes are only covered in crumbs from the pancakes. Once I'm done with that, the apartment is lighter though still not ideal. I take another look at the bathroom with the intent of taking a shower, but it's still much too dark for me and so I take a seat on the couch. I'm only sitting there for a couple of minutes before I flop over on my side, my knees in my chest, my fingers pressed lightly to my lips as if to keep my mouth from my thumb.
This is wrong. This is all wrong. I feel like I should be crying, mourning the loss of my mother. I don't know where she is or what's happening to her. Is she somewhere out here too? I guess I could have asked Brandon, but I'm scared of the answer. Wherever she is, that's wrong too, and she's in trouble probably more than I am.
This isn't real yet. Everything still has the haze of a nightmare washed over it. I pull my knees closer. My right arm is starting to ache and I let it hoping that it will help me come to terms with reality. My eyes burn. I stare at the bathroom door, partially closed, the room still dark.
Today is a school day. I wonder what my friends must be thinking. From time to time it happened that someone would move away suddenly. We'd discuss it at breaks between classes, asking if anyone had heard anything. There was never a warning. But we just shrugged our shoulders. It had been happening for so long that we never thought about it.
Is that what my friends are saying now? Do they believe that I'd leave without telling them? Will they completely forget me?
The tasks I take on for the afternoon don't last long enough. Before I know it, I'm lying on top of the bed curled in a ball, my shoes kicked off nearby. The bedroom is chilly just from the bareness.
I shiver, but I don't pull the blanket up. The cold keeps me awake. I try to sit still without thinking, but the cold also brings back memories. At first I fight it in an attempt to keep my mind clear. The memories still come though, washing over me and making the hair on my arms stand up.
It was the old vinyl seats in a truck. I sat with my coat on, wrapped tight around me as I scooted closer to Rob. The vinyl of the seat was like ice through the fabric of my pants. I jumped and he laughed, reaching for me to pull me to his side. His stupid truck broke down in the morning when we were on our way to see one of the parks. It was supposed to be a surprise, but we didn't make it. Stranded at the side of the road, both of us absolutely freezing, Rob, my shy friend who never made a move on anyone the whole year I'd known him, finally made a move on me.
"I know how we can get some attention so we're not out here too long," he'd said with an arm draped over the back seat of the truck, a hand on my shoulder. "I don't think you're going to like it."
"Does it involve us using our jackets somehow?"
"No, that's not exactly what I was thinking." Rob looked to the roof of the cab with a smile on his lips.
I was completely baffled. "Are you thinking we should get out and walk? Because that I'll definitely object to."
He laughed and looked down at me. I expected him to make another joke or give another hint. Instead, he leaned down and kissed me. My heart beat so hard in my chest that I shook. The temperature in the cab suddenly rose and both of our faces turned red. His shoulders rose as if he were trying to hide his head between his shoulders, and as soon as I saw his mouth even starting to shape the beginning of his apology, I threw my arms around him and pulled him back down.
In the real world, I gasp. It starts out as one,