Touching Melody - By RaShelle Workman Page 0,66

talk to me, I wanted you to know. He’s gone. And I’m sorry.

What are you doing this summer?

I’m going to Mexico with my aunt and uncle and my cousin. We’ll be there at least a month. My cousin says his dad has business there, but that he and I will get to hang at the beach every day. I’m going to learn how to surf and hopefully not get eaten by a shark.

If I stop sending letters, you’ll know why.

Maddie. Maddie. Maddie. I have all of these feelings inside. For you. I’m not sure if it’s because you won’t talk to me and I’m making stuff up in my head. Or if I’ve felt this way since before you left, but didn’t recognize it.

Remember when you and I made the pact to be each other’s first? I kept that promise for a long, long time. But it happened. An alcohol buzz can make a person’s needs change. And I’ve been drinking a lot. Had more than my fair share. That’s for damn sure.

Forgive me for that too. And if you don’t read this letter, then I guess it doesn’t matter.

Kyle.

I read the letter several times. So many, many times until it feels like it's been tattooed to my brain. I’m devastated for him. That he had to go through so much. A part of me wishes I could go back in time and help ease his suffering. But I’m not sure how things would’ve played out had I stayed. I might’ve hated him after a while. Seeing him play football with his dad in the yard, knowing my parents are buried in the cemetery, and won’t ever play again. I don’t know that we could’ve remained friends. I’m not sure I could’ve looked at him, day in and day out. Watching his father walking around as though he’d done nothing wrong. Living.

In a lot of ways it was better I didn’t see Chief Hadley. His absence made life if not bearable, then at least manageable.

I fold the letter, and put it back in the envelope, then stick it in the garment bag and pull out another. I cut open the envelope, and am about to pull out the letter when Gina walks in.

She looks haggard. Her makeup is smeared, and her clothes are a mess.

“Hi,” I say, edging off the bed.

She barely acknowledges me.

“Gina?” I say her name like a question. “What’s going on?”

She seems tired, and I’m a little bummed. I want to talk to her about Kyle. A lot’s happened. But she pulls her pillow over her head. I sigh. Pick up my books, pull on my jacket. “If you feel up to it, I’ll be at the library. Come by.”

The library is deathly quiet. About twenty feet from the entrance is the main desk. It’s large and rests in the shape of a half circle. An elderly lady with curly white hair and cat's-eye glasses hanging from a chain around her neck is working behind it. There is an additional information desk in the Law section, and another upstairs in the Classics section. That’s where I’m heading. Bitchy Spears said make it great, and I have this idea to do a comparison between the themes portrayed in The Great Gatsby and the current state of America.

I climb the steps, hanging on to the wood railing. At the top is a large landing. Oak desks are aligned with the bookshelves. No one else is around. I make my way over to the shelf containing the book I’m looking for. It’s on the very bottom. There were three copies the last time I looked. Now there’s only two. I pull it from the shelf and am about to stand when I hear whispering.

I freeze. The voice sounds familiar, but I don’t know why.

“I don’t care what you told her. You need to stay away from her.”

There’s a response, but the voice is too low. I can’t tell what is said, or even if it’s a male or female. The sound is barely muttering.

“Revenge is a difficult pill to swallow. Don’t think I don’t know that, but you can’t let her figure out the truth.”

More whispering.

“I’ll discuss it with my uncle.”

Then it’s quiet. I stand slowly. My heart is pounding rapidly. I want to run, but I’m trapped. I’m thinking the voice I recognize belongs to Evan, Kyle’s cousin, but I can’t be sure.

After several minutes I peer out the side. Evan is standing there, his hands on his hips,

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