Finding Andrew

Chapter 7

I’m not sure how many days passed. Four? Five? All I know is I’m in the same clothes as I was in Wednesday, and today is Friday. I think I passed out. I don’t remember anything, except waking up in my bed Tuesday morning. I had lost Fee. It all seemed surreal. I had a boyfriend, but no best. I’ve been tucked safety away in my room. Nothing has happened. Except for gaining a small portion to fill the void Fee killed when she dropped off the face of the Earth. I’ve been following her case, all the while having James one step behind me the whole way. “I’ll be here no matter what,” he says. “You’ll always have me,” he says. “It will all be okay,” he says. “Look at the brighter side of things,” he says. He holds me, while I keep it all bottled in, deep down. Somewhere inside I want to scream, right at James, “You’re not Penelope! You can’t help me!” All the other parts in me feel like if he’s not holding me together, I’ll blow away. I lie, tossing and turning in my bed. Is this depression? Am I breaking down? How strong can one person be? I get up. I sit first, easing into reality. I feel robotic. I find myself in the shower, just staring, sitting on the floor. I wash, then wash again because I can’t remember if it actually happened or not. I dress in big baggy sweatpants, and James’s shirt that he left here when we went to the beach the first night we were here. I walk back to the bathroom and scrub my teeth three times. I put my hair up into a loose pony tail. I slip on big fuzzy slippers. I lift up my phone. Three texts from James, and one from Jillian. I open the one from Jillian, which says “Hey Elizabeth, how ya doin’? Everyone here is pretty shaken up. I can only imagine how you are. I’ve been there since 4th grade, I’m here now. Love you.” Jillian was the awkward new girl that Fee and I took under our wings. We’ve been like the three musketeers’ since. James’s texts say, “How are u feeling?” “We’re going out to lunch today (Wednesday). Come on out if you want to go. I would come get you but yesterday all you wanted was to be alone…” “Good morning, and happy Friday. I’m coming to see you today, if you like it or not.”  I set my phone down, and walk out of my room.

My wave of bravery diminishes as soon as I see James, and Mom, and Dad, and everyone else, sitting at the table, enjoying lemonade. “Just,” my voice was rusty from misuse, “Just proving I’m still alive.” As if. I hurry back to my room in a fit of tears and grief. I turn my back to my door and burry myself deep down inside my blankets. The door opens. I want to turn around, but I can’t move. “Shh,” James says, lying down next to me, opening his arms to reveal a familiar safe haven. I crawl into his embrace. “I don’t want to talk,” I whisper. “Don’t,” James says. “I want to cry,” I whisper again. “Cry then,” James says. I burrow myself in his arms. I open my eyes and look at James, “Why are you doing this?” “Doing what? Being a good boyfriend?” James asks. Boyfriend? Is that where we stand? I stare at him. “You know, I never brought Patrick and Emma on their date, would you like to take them tonight?” James asks. I nod against the pillow. “It would be good for you to get out, you know?” James says. I nod again. “Can you bring Emma in here?” I ask. James nods, and walks out to the kitchen. He comes back with a timid Emma, then walks out. She looks upset, and rough. “Emma, come here,” I open my arms. I have to be the strong one now, for Emma. For myself. For everyone. “You said you wouldn’t leave. Elise told me Elizabeth, you promised her,” Emma says. She seems so much older in just five days. I shake my head, “I promised her Mom and Dad would never leave. I never said anything about myself.” Emma sits quietly, then James walks in.     

          I redirect the conversation, more cheery, “Emma. James told me you have a date with someone tonight?” Her face lights up, “Yeah! With Patrick, are you and James going on a date with us?” James smiles and I nod. “How about I straighten your hair again?” I ask quietly. “Do you mean it?” Emma smiles broadly. “Of course, go shower,” I say, nudging her with my arm. She runs to the bathroom, and because I’m wearing a cami under James’s sweatshirt I peel it off, and search my closet for something more presentable. Is there something you need to wear when your best friend is missing? I sit on the floor in front of my closet and burry my face in James’s sweatshirt. James sits next to me. “She’ll be okay,” James says. I shake my head. “There’s nothing special you need to do except pray,” James say softly. I sit there, until James drags me up and holds me. Emma walks out of the bathroom, dressed in shorts and a poncho- like shirt with sequins on it. She snaps us out of any reality we were hoping to create. “Hold on Emma, let me change,” I say. I grab a light tan shirt that hangs off my shoulder, and white shorts. I grab my strapless bra and walk to the bathroom. I get dressed quickly then do my make-up, spending a little more time on my eyes today. When I walk back Patrick and Emma are watching cartoons, and James is messing with my straightener. He burns himself, and I laugh a little, “Are you okay?” He turns, “I just wanted to help.” I walk over to him, “I can do it. Thanks though.” I straighten my bangs and put the rest of my hair into a tight pony tail. “Emma come on,” I say, and she walks over.