I am currently standing outside of a large sleek building, cell phone in one hand, shoes in the other, wearing a formerly beautiful dress that is now caked with mud and smothered in wrinkles. Why am I doing this you may ask?

What a very good question.

And of course the answer to that very good question is that I am waiting for my parents’ anniversary celebration to start so that I may confess my feelings to the love of my life. Ah, but why don’t we start from the beginning?

I guess that this whole mess that I now proudly call my life started four months ago, when I decided to go to that art show…

It is cold, and so very windy. I pull the sides of my jacket closer to one another in a weak attempt to become warmer. I should zip it up, but my fingers are numb. As I walk along the city sidewalk, I am grateful that my roommate Talia made me wear flats. “It’s an art show, not the runway. Just wear flats, you may not like it now but you will be thanking me later.” And how very appropriate- I was thanking her. Strands of my strawberry-blond hair are flying in my face and I am vaguely aware that my elegant bun I spent so much time on must be ruined. But I can mourn it later, my main focus now is to will the skies- which are turning a much too familiar grayish tint on the black night- not to snow. At least not until I am back in my dorm and my skin has returned to room temperature. It is times like this that I wish I had a car. But there are not many places that I could park one, and when you live in a crowded city most places are within walking distance. But on nights like this, nights where it gets dark all too quickly and there is no moon in sight, I would feel much safer with one. Not to mention heaters.

As the dorms come into sight, I let out a breath I had not known I was holding. Slightly picking up my pace, I reach into my small handbag with shaking fingers and search for my keys. Once I have them firmly in my grasp I unlock the door with haste and tumble into the room. The familiar scent of fresh hot cocoa tantalizes my sense of smell and I see my roommate- and coincidently best friend- Talia walk in from behind the wall that leads to our small but functional kitchen. She hands me a mug of the sweet liquid and smiles at me.

“So how was it?” She asks me, and unlike when most people ask such questions I can tell she is genuinely interested in the answer I have to provide.

“Amazing. The work was so original and unique. This new artist will have a great career ahead of him! And thank you for letting me borrow your flats, you were right.” I say the last part grudgingly and she chuckles.

“Aren’t I always? Come on and let me take your hair out of that bun, and take off the jacket. Then you can tell me all about the art. I expect details.”

We head into the small bathroom and she removes the bobby pins I had so carefully placed just mere hours before. Placing them into a container, she then combed out the wind-born knots in my hair and I proceeded to wash the minimal makeup I was wearing off of my face. The next hour passed quickly it seemed as I related the amazing art pieces I had seen earlier than evening.

“Oh I wish you had been there! The way he arranged the light and dark paints on the canvas- it was like nothing I have ever seen!” Rattling off about his use of color and texture, I had become completely emerged in memories of the astonishing displays I had seen.

“I looked up the artist when you first mentioned him to me. He is quite a looker isn’t he? And not much older than us too.” Talia glanced at her computer screen and turned it around to show me.

“Really? I never got to see what he looked like…” I start but what I see on the screen cuts my voice off.

I know that face.

Not the kind of familiarity that comes from being exposed to pictures of a celebrity your whole life until it comes to the point where you could picture their face upon hearing their name. No, this was the kind of familiar you experience when you knew someone well for a long time, but then lost contact with them and see their face again after a while. The kind where you recognize the person even though the details of their face have blurred over time in your head, but then come back just as sharp as they once were once you are exposed to the sight of them again. Oh yes, there was to be no doubt that I knew his face.

But the name- not so much.

Memories resurfaced upon seeing that face but the name was not the one I knew him by. I had gone to see the art work of up-and-comer Jacob Treller. But the person I was looking at on Talia’s computer screen I knew as Blake O’Dell. What was going on? I was only vaguely aware of making a strange sort of noise; like a cross between a grunt and a snort.

“Okay so I know that he is kind of amazing looking, and the not-being-able-to-speak reaction is totally normal. But that sound you just made was not.” Talia looks at me and then at the screen as if she looked hard enough she could see whatever connection the most likely constipated looking face I was portraying and the handsome man on the screen had to one another. Her voice gets softer and full of concern when she speaks the words “Are you okay Alice?”

“Yeah. I-I’m fine. He is just… really good looking.” I cringe internally when I say this. It is not a lie, Blake has always been a looker, but it is a lie of omission. I don’t care about the technicalities though. It feels like a lie to me because I tell Talia everything. But I swore never to bring my past into my future. And telling her would be doing just that. She has probably figured out that I am holding back on her; my poker face is terrible. I rack my mind for a way to effectively change the subject.

“Hey how about we watch a movie? I rented some of the classic Disney princesses so we should be all set.” Talia’s grin stretches across her face and I know that I have succeeded in changing the topic. Talia is great but she has a very limited attention span sometimes. And very little self-control when it comes to Disney princess movies. As we settle in for the night with some fresh hot cocoa and a blanket, remotes on the table in front of us, and a stack of movies next to the TV, I think that it is safe to think about Blake now that she is not watching my reactions. I hate reliving memories though, so I know that- in more than one way- this is going to be a very long night.

2: Finding the Necklace

I hear that this is one of the hottest summers to hit this town in years. At least they are partially accustomed to it- however I am from Seattle. The sun is scorching my back and I will probably have a bad sunburn but moving feels like I am surrounded by molasses so I stay put on the swing. If I could see it through another person’s eyes, I imagine that I would look sort of poetic right now- the hot sun beating down upon the decrepit swing set and its sole occupant. A slight breeze tickles my ear. I sigh in relief and then I close my eyes and lean back. The swing moves back with me, and soon my childish instincts have taken over and I am swinging even though the effort drenches me in sweat from the Louisiana heat, and if I look into the sky I can pretend that I am a bird, and that I could fly straight up and away. I could fly all the way to heaven. My young seven year old mind is immersed in the fantasy, and I let go of the swing without thinking. The daydream is shattered though, as the pain of my landing on the hard ground slices into it and breaks it apart. I start to cry but I am silent why doing so, I have not been able to speak in three years. The doctors call me ‘emotionally mute’ because I suffered a traumatic experience and have not been able to speak since then. As I sit there with one leg at an odd angle and silent tears charting a course down my face, I hear a soft voice.

“Are you all right?” The speaker is a young boy, maybe about two years older than me. His face is scrunched up in concern and I shake my head ‘no’.

“What happened?” I think about how to answer him while there is no pencil or paper in sight and then coming up with nothing, I simply point towards the swing, make a motion with my hand that indicates swinging, and then have my swinging hand fly away and land on my other hand like how I had hit the ground.

He has an intense look of concentration for a moment. “You were swinging, and you fell off? Is that it?” I nod to him.

“Can you write your name in the dirt so I can get your parents? You need help- you’re bleeding and your dress is ripped.” I look down and sure enough there is a long bleeding scratch on my right arm. My favorite dress was previously a pale soft yellow but now is caked with dirt and blood and the left sleeve has been almost completely ripped off. I sigh again, then lean down and scratch my name into the dirt. Alice Simmons. A look of realization passes over his face.

“Hey you are the new girl right? Cool. Now let’s go get you some medical help. I’m Blake O’Dell by the way. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

I bolt upright in bed and put my head in my hands. No, no, no, no, NO! That stupid Blake O’Dell. I cannot believe it. I have spent the past four years erasing all traces of my past from my life and now they are all coming back to me. And I can’t just stop sleeping, so there is no way to stop these dreams. I know that that was the first dream but from experience I know that there will be more to follow. I groan.

There is no way I will be falling asleep again tonight, so I climb out of my warm cocoon of bed sheets and pad over to the desk where Talia’s computer sits. I open the top and I am pleasantly surprised to see that she left it on. I open up the internet and the page with that all-too-familiar face pops up. Scrolling down on the webpage, I try not to let the handsome face distract me as I continue my search. Aha! At the bottom of the page there is a link that is entitled ‘contact the artist’. I click on the words and a pop-up ad appears on the screen and starts playing loud rock music while a man talks about why I should buy a certain car. I wince and swear that if this dumb ad wakes Talia up then I will never even look at one of their stupid cars. Luckily Talia is as lively as a rock, and I manage to mute the ad without her waking up. Finally after loading for ages, the email of the artist Jacob Treller appears. I copy the address and then open up my email account. I paste the email address in the ‘send to’ section and then think about what to say. Finally I just settle for straight and to the point.

Dear ‘Jacob Treller’,

I went to your art gallery at the Cliff Heights Museum of Art this evening and I thought it was very exquisite. But then I came home and saw your picture on the webpage. Mr. Treller, I was simply wondering what on earth could have motivated you to change your name? I understand more than most the appeal of escaping a past, but the logic in this eludes me as I know for a fact that your past needs no hiding from. If I remember correctly, I was the ‘emotionally mute’ one, I was the one in the accident (you know what I mean by this), and I was the one who suffered rejection by the very person who got her to the point where she could speak again. I would like to meet with you for coffee or something of the sort to discuss.

-Ally Cat

I read it over and cringe at seeing the old nickname he had invented for me. I decide that maybe an aloof email is not the best way to go about this. Thinking for a moment, I decide that the best form of action to take is to go to the art gallery tomorrow and see if I can spot him and corner him. It is the best plan my tired brain can formulate at the moment, and I am about to delete the email but decide that it might be best to save it- just in case. I shut down Talia’s computer and am about to crawl into bed when I see something glinting in the dimness of the dorm room. It is just visible under the crack in the closet and as curiosity gets the better of me I walk over and open the door. I bend over and pick it up- I think it is a necklace. Thinking quickly, I go into the bathroom and shut the door so that the light does not disturb my comatose roommate. The light is bright and I blink rapidly once it is on. Once my eyes have adjusted to the light I am examining the jewelry in my hand.

It is a fine gold chain connected to one half of a golden heart charm. The edge is jagged as if the heart had cracked in half and on it in neat cursive engraving was the name ‘Blake’.

I do not know how long I stand there and stare at it. A while I suppose. I forgot that I had decided on a last minute impulse to pack the necklace when I was leaving for college four years ago. I had gotten so involved in creating ‘a new life’ that I had forgotten about its existence entirely. It must have slipped out of the suitcase that I had stored on the top shelf of the closet, which would explain why it had been laying out on the closet floor. Seeing the necklace brought back memories and before I could stop myself I was remembering how I had first received it.

I want to beg my mom to let me have him over for the night, but she still will not budge. I give her a cute puppy dog face, complete with big bambi eyes that glisten with tears- ready in case I need to take desperate measures. She huffs and turns around and I know what I have to do. I go into the kitchen and grab a pad of sticky notes and a pencil, and start to write out what I know will work. At least, I am hoping it will work. I scribble something down and she takes it and reads it and I am sure her resolve is broken. The note simply says:

Mommy please! He is my only friend here. I think he is helping me cope.

It isn’t a lie, but I feel bad using it to get something I want. But I am desperate. Mom sighs and I keep trying to look pitiful but inside I am beaming.

“Fine sweets. Blake can stay overnight. But no monkeying around! This is a respectable household.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her but then I grab the stickies again and write something else for her to read:

Mom I am nine and he is eleven. We haven’t even gone through puberty yet, so there is no need to worry about… that. But I promise that we will not ‘monkey around’ if it makes you feel better. Also thank you so much!

She smiles at me and hugs me. “Your right sweetheart. But I am a mother it’s my job to worry about things and, in the process, embarrass you.” She ruffles my hair and my grin is so wide that it is starting to hurt my face.

“I have to go baby but you know how to reach me. Just in case I left some emergency phone numbers on the fridge. Be good!” She exits the front door and I roll my eyes because of the fact that I am a mute and cannot therefore, talk on the phone.

That evening Blake and I are watching the ending credits of Grease the Musical when I hear the first clap of thunder. I start to shiver and shake violently and Blake comes over and wraps his arms around me in a bear hug. I snuggle into his side and try to quiet my breathing. Calm down, I tell myself. It was a freak accident the first time. The tree was old and ready to break and you are alive and nothing like that will happen again so CALM DOWN! I am so terrified of thunderstorms and I am extremely grateful to have Blake with me tonight as the storm rages outside and my mom is on her business trip. I would not have been able to make it through this storm alone. I worry about my mom and whether she is in a storm right now but I shake my head and refuse to concentrate on anything except the comforting rhythm of Blake’s heartbeat as he hugs me and tries to calm me down.

“Hey,” Blake says softly after an extra loud clap of thunder made me start to cry. “You’re okay. I won’t let you get hurt.” He starts to pull away and I grab onto him tighter, so tight that my knuckles are turning white. “Ally cat you’re safe with me. I am not going anywhere.” He answers my unspoken plea. Taking one hand he runs it along the floor until his fingers grasp the overnight bag he brought with him. I am scared that he was lying to me and his about to flee and I start to hug him as securely as I am capable of. My vision blurs as more tears come with the next loud clap of thunder. A bright zigzag of light streaks across the sky and I gasp and bury my face in his chest. His scent is familiar and he is warm and just knowing that he is here calms me slightly. He strokes my hair gently and murmurs in my ear but I can only hear the echoes of thunder and my own wheezing breaths. “Ally cat look at me.” His tone is stern and I do as he says automatically. He gently cups my face in his palm and forces my eyes to look at his. They are a deep sapphire, and the color is soothing. My rattling breaths slow and the tears take a brief reprieve. He uses his thumbs to wipe away the wetness coating my cheeks and I blush thinking about how I am being such a cry baby.

“Ally cat I have something for you, but you have to promise you will calm down enough to let me show you.” I nod my head methodically but jump at another booming rumble. “Ignore it Ally cat and focus on me. You okay?” I nod again and he seems relieved. I am so grateful for him and there is no way to fully express it to him. If only I could talk…

His voice snaps me back into focus. He pulls out a small box from his bag and opens it up. “Close your eyes Ally cat. It’s a surprise.” I hesitantly do so and ignore the pounding of my heart and the howls of the wind outside. I feel something cold against my neck. “Okay now open.”

I do so and look at the golden necklace around my neck. It is pretty, shaped like a heart split in half and has ‘Blake’ written on it in calligraphy. I take in a sharp breath.

“I know that the storms scare you and I understand why. And I know that most people don’t understand and are not very helpful to have around in a storm. And finally, I know that I will not be here with you in every storm that occurs. Now I figured that you would need to be able to reach me somehow when a storm came through and I wasn’t there, but since you can’t use a phone I was stumped for a while on how that would work. So I came up with an idea. I don’t know how good of an idea it is but it is still an idea and that’s better than nothing…” he trails off as he reaches into the little box again and pulls out an identical necklace to the one he gave me. The only difference was that it was the other side of the heart. He held it up against mine and they fit together like a puzzle piece. I noticed that there was one more difference though when it came closer. Instead of ‘Blake’, this one said ‘Alice’. He put it on around his neck and then he smiled at me. “I am never taking this off, no matter who teases me. You know why? Because my idea was that every time you get scared you have a little piece of me with you next to your heart, and I have a little piece of you over my heart, so that way we are never truly apart. Do you like it?” He asked the last part nervously. I felt my eyes start to leak tears again as I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely. When I pulled back from him, he looked a little stunned. Then in sign language (we had both learned it to prevent having to play charades to have a conversation) I responded to him:

Blake, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love it. Thank you.

I was crying again but not from fear. No, Blake had managed to distract me from the storm and I swore right then and there that, just as Blake said he would, I would keep this necklace on for eternity.

3: A Rude Awakening

The next morning I was jolted out of my comatose state by the feeling of ice-cold water splashing on my face and drenching the top of my shirt. Naturally my response to this was to jump at the demon who was to blame for my cold damp face and attack them. I hadn’t even opened my eyes yet and I had someone pinned to the cold tiles of the bathroom floor.

“Ughh could you please not sit on me Alice? It would be much appreciated.” I hear Talia’s annoyed grumble from beneath me and sheepishly get up.

“Sorry about jumping you Talia. I kind of went into attack mode.”

She looks at me incredulously and then smooth’s out the wrinkles in her flowy blue skirt. Dryly she responds “I noticed.”

I start to walk over to the dresser where I keep my limited wardrobe. I open the drawers and then, after contemplating my choices for a few minutes, pick out a loose blouse. The sleeves are short and the hems are lacy. It is a turquoise color and I bask in the happy knowledge that soon it will be summer. The moment ends once I remember that with summer brings final exams. In another drawer I find a pair of blue jeans and grab them as well. I am heading towards the bathroom but then stop as the cold air from the AC system hits the wetness of my shirt and makes me shiver. I turn back around with a questioning look on my face and walk towards Talia, who is now on her computer checking email.

“Hey Tal?” I start out calmly and she turns and looks at me.

“Yeah Alice? What’s up?”

“Why did you splash me in the face with ice-cold water as a wakeup call?” It appears that we have switched places as now it is she who has the sheepish look on her face.

“You were out like a light Alice, I tried everything that I could to wake you up. That was a last resort. How long were you up after I went to bed?” I think back to last night trying to remember. Hmm, I remember the art show, then walking home and then… OH MY GOSH! It all comes back to me in a rush and I remember seeing Blake’s picture, the movie marathon, the dream, the email, the necklace, the flashback; everything and anything that happened last night is back in my memories. Suddenly panic flares in my chest. Where is the necklace? Talia gives me a strange look as I drop the clothes in my hands and run into the bathroom, then fall to my knees searching the floor.

“Okay so I am going to overlook the fact that you just went kind of spastic and didn’t answer my question, but only because I have a more pressing one to ask. I wasn’t going to ask this previously because I figured it wasn’t my business, but since you now look like you are having a mental break down, it has increased in its significance. Why in the world were you asleep on the bathroom floor when I woke you up?” I continue to ignore her, even though it makes me feel like a horrible friend, and search the floor some more.

“Hello? Are you even listening or is it just in-one-ear-and-out-the-other?” Talia sighs in frustration with me and my weird behavior. “Seriously? Okay fine whatever, don’t tell me. But at least tell me what you are searching for!”

I sit back and huff in worry and exasperation. I want to tell Talia about the necklace because she has a keen eye and would probably be a big help in finding the lost jewelry. But telling her about the necklace would mean I have to tell her how I got the necklace… and that was something forbidden. No way was I ruining my new happy life with the sad ugly one I led before.

Scanning the floor with my eyes one final time; I know that I have lost it. Where could it have gone? Defeated, I head back towards Talia’s desk intending to pick up the clothes that I left there. When I bend over however, something falls out of my shirt and dangles in front of my face. I freeze. Straightening up again, I see the mysterious object land on my chest and rest there. It is a necklace. A golden, heart-shaped necklace. Incredulous, I pick it up and look at the front to see the engraving on the front that confirms my suspicions.

When did I put on the necklace?

I remember last night in its entirety, well maybe not the last few minutes before I was asleep, but I cannot remember putting on the necklace. I must have been half asleep. Despite the memories that it brought with its presence, I tuck it in my shirt to hide it and then retrieve my clothes from the floor. I still feel safer, even after everything that happened, when I am wearing the beautiful charm. I turn around and pause when I see Talia looking at me as though she thought I had lost my mind.

“Are you going to let me in on what that was or am I still getting the silent treatment?” At a closer look, I can tell she is hurt that I was keeping something from her. I spend a minute or so pondering on how to respond. She looks angry for a moment and thinks that my pondering has really been my refusal to talk to her. She starts to walk away but I call out for her.

“Talia wait!” I walk over to her quickly and then she slowly, reluctantly turns around to face me. “I’m sorry I ignored you. I was afraid that I had lost something and I thought that maybe I had left it in the bathroom when I fell asleep. But everything is fine now.” I prayed silently that she would not ask for specifics. I was not sure how to elaborate without flat out lying to her. Unfortunately it would seem as though luck was not very fond of me either at the moment.

Cocking her head at me she asked me what I had hoped she would not. “What did you lose?”

Quick thinking gives me my answer. “I had um, a ring that I was wearing yesterday and I was so tired after our movie marathon that I fell asleep getting ready for bed in the bathroom. I woke up and panicked because I didn’t have it on, but I remembered where I left it so everything is fine now.”

“Really? Where was it? Can I see it?” Her eyes narrow at me and I am pleading with her mentally to just accept the story and move on. “Wait a minute, when you left you weren’t wearing a ring and the same goes for when you came back.” Oh great, now she chooses to be observant. I struggle to come up with an excuse.

“I know, see I got it as a gift when I was at the art gallery and then I was going to leave it on to show you when I got back home, but…” Think, Alice, THINK! Why did you take it off and where is it now, come on you need an excuse NOW!

“But I didn’t want someone to see a small college girl walking home alone with a very pretty, expensive looking ring on her finger, and so I asked the person who gave it to me if they could hold on to it for me just for one night. I just forgot when I woke up is all.” Talia’s eyes widen.

“Alice, this person who gave you that ring… do you have a boyfriend?” She must see the panicked look on my face and mistake it for some other emotion that implies she is correct because she squeals and hugs me fiercely. “Finally! You have no idea how long I have waited for this day Alice! Why did you hold out on me?” Oh great, how was I supposed to get myself out of this mess?

“I wanted it to be a surprise?” I meekly reply and she squeals again.

“Well I have to go now but later you are going to tell me all about him! Oh and I saw you had an email open on my computer and figured that you must have been so tired last night that you forgot to send it. Don’t you worry about a thing Alice I already took care of it. All sent and taken care of so now you can spend more time thinking about your new man.” Talia winks at me then flounces out of the doorway and I am alone. Wait. One. Second. Oh my gosh! She- she sent Blake the email! I run towards the computer and pull up my mailboxes hoping that there was magically some other email that she was talking about and sent and not that one. But once I check the sent mail, my hope is squashed as I see his email address on the top correspondence. Growling I flop onto my bed and bury my face into my pillow.

Great. Now all I needed to do was buy a ring, hope that Blake stops checking his email, oh and find a boyfriend. I snort at the last part of my mental checklist and a memory comes back to me.

I am at my locker arranging my things, and suddenly my math textbook comes flying towards me from where it was- admittedly- haphazardly balanced on a collapsible locker shelf that, oh look at that, had collapsed. It hits my foot hard and a surge of pain flares from my right instep. I resist the urge to curse. I lean against the wall with one arm while the other rubs the searing pain on my right foot, and I jump when I hear a voice close to my ear.

“Well isn’t that a shame. How are the boys going to dance with you at the spring formal if you have an injured foot?” I whirl around to almost collide into the face of none other than Blake O’Dell. Despite the agony from my foot, I manage to smile at him, although it most likely resembles a grimace more than a smile.

“Blake you know I can’t dance, and besides, it wasn’t exactly as if I had a line of suitors going around the block.” I gesture to the corner of the empty hallway to prove my point and he chuckles.

“Ally cat you really have no idea, do you?” He mutters and I narrow my eyes at him in confusion.

“What Blake?”

“Nothing Ally cat. Come on and lean on me and I will help you to the cafeteria.” I giggle at him and how he has always been so chivalrous with me. Leaning against him I say “Now go slave and take me to the eatery. And while you are there find me a boyfriend!” He laughs and I giggle again.

“As you wish m ’lady. I am here to serve you.” We reach the high school cafeteria and I stop leaning against him for a moment to fix my shirt, for our strange little trip to the lunch room has made it slightly ride up. I am reluctant to go inside because I know that I will not be able to sit with Blake. He is a junior and I am a freshman, and although we have the same lunch period we have different sides of the cafeteria to sit on. He leans down and I am struck once again by how handsome he is, all muscles and dark unruly hair and strong jawline. If only my love were not unrequited…

“Well I have taken care of the first request ma’am but I seem to have failed the second,” he murmurs as his face gets closer and closer to mine. My heartbeat starts to pick up.

“I think that I can solve the problem however.” He finishes talking and then his lips are on mine, soft and sweet. I am stunned and so very happy. I could cry. He pulls away a minute later, smiles his heart stopping grin at me, and then says “I guess that I will be forced to take you to the dance myself.” My heart soars and I feel myself smiling like an idiot, but I don’t care, I don’t care because this is Blake, my handsome sweet Blake, and he has chosen me. I hug him tightly and feel the necklace he still wears pressing into me. I hope that he feels mine as well. I want him to know that I have not forgotten and that I will forever be grateful to him for thinking of that necklace idea in the first place. It is one of the many things that he had done over the years that slowly coaxed me into being able to talk again. I didn’t deserve such a perfect best friend. I still don’t.

“We should probably get going Ally cat, before Mrs. Little comes back and sees us.” I cringe at the thought of the nasty old teacher. He pulls away and is almost all of the way through the doors to the cafeteria when I call his name. He turns immediately and is all ears for whatever I have to say. Another great thing about Blake. He is an amazing listener, which really is appreciated when you spent most of your life not making a sound. People just assume that you have nothing to say, but that wasn’t him once. Always listening.

“Thank you Blake. For everything.” I put as much emotion into those words as I can and see his heart stopping smile.

4: The Not-Quite-Sober Phone Call

I do not get the opportunity to check and see if Blake has responded to my email until after work. Throughout my shift in the craft store I am employed at, I am distracted and jumpy. At one point my boss gave me an extra break saying that it was because of the hard work I have been doing lately, but I suspect that he is just worried that I am scaring the customers. I probably am. As I have mentioned before, my poker face is terrible.

After work I drive as quickly as the speed limit allows me to. I reach into my purse and latch on to my keys, unlock and open the door, and turn on Talia’s computer in a record amount of time. Opening up my computer I see my first sign of despair:

Inbox: (1)

I suppress my panic. What are the chances really? Blake has finally achieved his dream of becoming an artist, surely he doesn’t have time to waste replying to the ghosts of his past when they send the occasional email. Besides, I get at least five spam emails daily; this is the most likely answer.

I open my inbox and my breath stops short.

It is not a spam email.

The address of the sender is the same one that I- excuse me- Talia sent the email to. My hand is shaking as I open the email to read what would be our first correspondence since I was a junior in high school, five years ago. I start reading.

Dear Alice- I stop, and pain seizes my chest. He never called me Alice. It was always Ally cat. I blink away the threat of tears and start anew.

Dear Alice,

I understand your confusion regarding my name. I know that we had a falling out, and that you were emotionally mute, and I know about the accident. I know that you are more familiar with pain than most.

But you are not the only one running from ghosts.

When I left in your junior year, I swore that I was going to stay away from things that would cause me undue pain, aka the past. Even my name stirred up things that I didn’t want to relive, and I was not fond of the idea of having a panic attack every time I went to a restaurant that calls out your name when your order. So I changed it.

I am happy that you enjoyed my art as much as you used to; at least that is one thing that didn’t change.

-Jacob Treller

(P.S. I am not sure why I feel the overwhelming need to tell you this, especially after telling you that I went as far as to change my own name to escape my past but… I still wear the necklace. I kept the promise.)

Oh my… this is painful to read. I close the email with a flourish I do not feel and sit down heavily on my bed. I start to list the things that were wrong about his response.

First of all, he called me Alice. He has only called me Alice about twice, when he first met me and I had broken my leg on the swing set. He was comforting me while we waited for help and just started calling me Ally cat, and it stuck. Second, he only made one joke, and it was a half-hearted attempt at that. He always would have something funny to say; it was one of his defining characteristics. Third, He was cold and distant- two adjectives that that I used to think were so unlike him, that hell would freeze over before someone used those words to describe him. Fourth, he was inconsiderate and hurtful. He had always- even if he was in a worse situation than you were- been comforting and sweet. And he never let anyone hurt me. And yet for the first time in all of the years I have known him, he hurt me with his words. He implied that I was selfish, and that I was self-absorbed and part of a past that he was desperate to escape. And yet…

He still wears the necklace. He has never taken it off.

I feel like a rat for taking off mine when he never did. Shame, stifling and heavy fills me to the brim.

I need a drink.

I am not quite sure how much I have had to drink, but it is a fair amount because I cannot see- or walk- straight. I stumble and it scares me for a moment, but then I picture the face I must be making and I burst into a fit of giggles. Wow… so this is what being drunk feels like?

I stumble again and that is followed by giggling once more. I am such an idiot. Hey! So is Blake. Who wears a necklace that held significant importance in their past when they are trying to forget the past? Blake is the idiot. I should tell him that; I love the idea but feel disappointed when I remember that I don’t have his phone number. A memory stirs… I can email him!

I am bumping into things at a constant rate as I make my way to the computer. I open it and see that I have exited out of my email, but the internet is open on another page. I examine it and then realize that it is the page with the artist contact information where I found Blake’s email. Next to the email is a phone number. I should call it and tell him how stupid he is. I cannot remember why he is stupid, but I know that I had to have had a reason to come to the conclusion. I pick up my cell phone and dial the numbers on the screen.

The phone rings once… twice… thrice… and then a click on the other end. Followed by a deep sexy voice that is all-too-familiar.

“Hello?” I can tell it is Blake, and the thought of what I am going to tell him makes me giggle again.

“Who is this?” He sounds irritated, probably thinking that I am some prankster kid.

“You’re an idiot Blake.” I laugh after saying the words. Yes! Mission accomplished.

“Alice? Is that your voice?” I start at his immediate recognition of my voice. Sure I recognized his, but then again I had heard it our whole childhoods practically. I on the other hand, only started talking the summer after middle school ended and I was preparing for high school.

“How’d ya know?” My words are slurred. So are my thoughts.

“Alice-“

“Don’t call me that.” I interrupt him mid-sentence.

“It’s your name.” He sounds annoyed. Well, join the club Blake.

“You don’t call me that. You call me Ally cat.” He sighs.

“Alice that was the past.” My throat constricts. So I am just one of his ghosts.

“So I mean nothing now.” My voice is small.

“Alice I don’t mean that-“

“Yes you do. Your email was the same way, but I wanted confirmation. I’m just a ghost. Well Blake, I am so sorry that I have disturbed your peaceful, happy, ALICE-FREE life. Please go back to it now.” The tears are starting to slide down my cheeks. Why am I so emotional? I blame the alcohol. And Blake of course.

“Alice stop it.” His tone is harsh and I sob because he has scared me with his uncharacteristic harshness, and because he is no longer the Blake that I knew. The one I fell in love with.

“Alice are you okay?” He must have heard my sob because his voice fractionally softens.

“No you idiot. I need a drink.” I say the last part without thinking and I hear him growl.

“Have you been drinking? Is this why you are acting so strange? Oh great… your drunk aren’t you? Where are you?” He talks rapidly and I cry some more just to make him sit and ponder for a moment. It’s my own little form of rebellion.

“Alice. I will not ask you again. Where. Are. You?” Butthead. I give in.

“My dorm room at CHU.” CHU is Cliff Heights University, our local college.  I know he will understand what I mean; we live in the same area because my mom loves us both so much that she refuses to let us move far away, and my dad would not have anyone to talk sports with if not for Blake. I absentmindedly wonder if they have seen him recently.

“Stay there Alice. You are in no condition to go anywhere.”

I feel very lightheaded: suddenly all of the emotional stress, and schoolwork, and alcohol is making the room spin.

 

5: A Surprise Visitor

Pain.

That is the first thing that I notice when I wake up. It is everywhere, my head, my arms, my stomach… my heart.

I crack open an eye and moan as the bright white surroundings blind me. I slam my eye shut again. Back to the dark…

Vaguely my brain picks up that something is wrong. My apartment walls are not white, and the smell of disinfectant stings my nose. Open your eyes and get up! Something is not right, my brain yells at me. I wave all the thoughts away and then I pick up the sound of murmuring voices. What is going on…?

Finally my common sense returns and I bolt upright in bed, my eyes flying open. I double over clutching my stomach as a sharp pain comes from my side, and as my eyes focus they blur again with tears. It hurts, everything hurts…

I am moaning in pain and my head feels like it is being split open. I am still clutching my stomach for all I am worth. Finally my eyes have adjusted and I see that I am in a white room with big beeping equipment everywhere. I am lying in a bed with a thin nightgown on, and I wonder what happened to my clothes. There is a tube going into my side and it is connected to a bag of liquid hanging from a metal pole next to my bed. What…?

I hear someone coming into the room but I am too distracted by the pain and the tube to care. A pair of gentle hands helps me lay down, and a soothing voice is telling me to relax, just relax…

“Where am I?” I manage to croak and I see that the person helping me lay down is a young woman I do not recognize.

“Honey, you are in the hospital. You had an accident.”

“I did?”

“Yes. Here, take this and then there is a young man who has been worried sick about you that I am going to call in. Does that sound okay?” I nod and she smiles at me. Handing me a glass of water and two pills, she tells me to swallow them. Once I have done this I relax in the bed. I don’t feel as bad now, and I assume that the pills were some type of pain killer. My nurse leaves the room and my mind is buzzing.

What happened? I remember going to work, and then I came home. Did I go out again? No, I don’t think so. What did I do? I think hard and my eyebrows furrow. Think Alice, think!

I came home, and let’s see… I- I checked my email! Yes I did that! And I remember feeling upset… The email from Blake! It is all coming back to me.

I remember getting upset and getting a beer, and then another beer. And… after that nothing. I growl in frustration. What happened?

There is a knock on the door, and I look up startled. It is only my nurse.

“Are you ready to see your visitor?” Visitor?

“I have a visitor?”

“I told you that when I gave you your pain killers, there is a young man here who wants to see you. He has been waiting here since you arrived three days ago.” Three days! Holy cow… what happened?

My nurse looks anxious. “Can he come in?” I am surprised that I have a visitor besides Talia. Speaking of which, where was that girl? I shrug, in any case it is most likely George. He is my second closest friend next to Talia, and we often talk at work. I think for a moment and then decide that I am okay with him seeing me like this. After all, he has been waiting for me for three days. I still cannot believe I was out that long.

“Sure. Send him in.” My nurse smiles and she walks out, to tell George to come in presumably.

A minute later the door swings open and a familiar face meets me. I freeze. That is not George!

The worried face of Blake O’Dell meets me from across the tiny hospital room. I am holding my breath.

“Ally cat…” He breathes in a relieved whisper and he walks over to me quickly. He places a bunch of freshly picked wild geranium, my favorite flower, in a vase on the nightstand next to me and then sinks to his knees next to my bed.

“Are you all right?” He sounds scared, and my heart swells. But then I dismiss the emotions that are arising within me. I will not give in to him again.

“You have been here three days. How in the world did you get freshly picked wild geranium?” He smiles at me.

“The nurse told me you were waking and that she would have to give you some medication before I could see you. I went outside real fast and picked some outside in the garden across the street, and paid the people who took care of it.” He looks nervous. “Do you like them?” I nod and he smiles again, but it is gone quickly and replaced with a look of slight anger.

“What were you thinking getting drunk like that Alice? They had to pump your stomach! You are slight, you cannot drink that much alcohol at one time!” I gulp and look at my hands. Now I am starting to remember the rest of what happened that night.

“Did I call you?” My voice is barely audible.

“Yes, you called me, told me I was an idiot and then started sobbing. And then you just passed out!” Blake stands up and I look at him warily.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. He closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath through his nose, waits a minute, and then releases it through his teeth. His hand runs through his hair in exasperation.

“Why did you get drunk in the first place Alice?” The moment of truth was coming… I could take it or leave it.

“Your email.” Blake’s eyebrows crease and he looks confused.

“Excuse me?”

“Your email.” I repeat. “You were cold and it hurt me to read it, and then I wanted to forget it so I got drunk for the first time in my life. I honestly didn’t remember anything afterwards until now and I-I’m such an idiot.” I am starting to cry.

“Alice…”

“Don’t call me that.” I snap at him, then my voice softens. “Please.” He sighs and crouches down next to me again. His hand cups my face and he wipes away a spare tear with his thumb.

“Ally cat, I didn’t want to hurt you. It was bad timing, really. Things in my life have kind of gone to hell in a hand basket.” He reaches a hand inside his shirt and pulls out a gold chain… is that what I think it is?

“I’m here if you need me Ally cat. I never took it off.” I am staring at the charm in disbelief; the emotion in this room is so thick that it is choking me. Or maybe it is just the tears that refuse to stop.

“I never took it off.” Blake repeats. And just because he always knows what to say he added in “Even though it hasn’t exactly been convenient when it comes to girlfriends…” I laugh at him and he smiles. Then his face becomes more serious.

“Do you still have yours?” I feel my face flush with shame and I look at my hands.

“I have it, but I took it off after… you know. I’m sorry.” I am afraid that he will be mad at me and I steel myself to look up and see his face contorted with rage and betrayal, but he looks only understanding and slightly sad.

“Hey, don’t cry. I understand.” I didn’t realize that I was crying again.

“I was wearing it when I came into the hospital I think, but I don’t know where they put it.” He looks at me and stands up.

“I will be right back Ally cat.” He leaves the room and I wait for about five minutes. I start to wonder if he has simply left. Don’t be ridiculous, Blake wouldn’t do that, I tell myself. He did once before, my subconscious snaps at me and I tell her to shut up.

Soon enough Blake is back and he is carrying my clothes.

“My clothes, thank you Blake!” He chuckles and reaches into the pocket of my jeans, pulling out a baggy.

“What is tha-” I stop once he has opened the bag and see that it is my necklace. Blake comes over and gently puts it on me and resumes his kneeling position from before. It looks painful after a while. Maybe I should ask the nurse to bring him a chair?

“Ally cat, maybe we can try and mend our friendship. I know that I messed up, and I am sorry. Would you do me the honor of giving me a second chance?” I nod without hesitation, completely forgetting to be wary of this man who has caused me great pain in my past.

“Of course Blake. Just don’t make me call you Jacob Treller.” My nose scrunches in distaste and he laughs.

“Deal. Do you want to come by the studio later this month? After they discharge you of course. I would like to show you around.”

I smile at Blake, the ghost from my past who I have just allowed back into my life and smile.

“Nothing would make me happier Blake.”

He looks so happy right then that it is hard to believe. Suddenly I remember something.

“How did I get here Blake? Did Talia find me?”

“No. I did.”

“What? How did you get my dorm address?”

“I asked the secretaries at CHU. They were more than happy to help.” I frown.

“Has anyone else been waiting to see me?” Blake looks concerned.

“Only me. Why?”

“My roommate should have noticed I was gone.” I start to panic. Was Talia alright?

“Blake, my phone is at home. Could I use yours?” He fishes out his mobile and I call Talia’s number. I have it memorized.

“Hello?” I hear her voice and I could just cry… again. I haven’t cried this much in years, what is wrong with me?

“Oh thank god!” I basically shout into the phone.

“Alice? What’s up?”

“Where are you?” I am demanding.

“Geez, calm down there. My old friend Olivia needed me to come over and give her boy advice, she lives out of state remember?”

“Why didn’t you call?” I yelled into the phone.

“Um I did call. Cell phone and dorm phone. I left voicemails, emailed, texted… you’re lucky I didn’t do Morse code.”

“That would be very helpful if I had been at the house. Why didn’t you start panicking when I didn’t respond?”

There was silence on the other line. Then a very confused sounding Talia started talking again.

“You never respond Alice. Remember? Our ritual is I have to go somewhere, I notify you in all available forms of communication, you don’t respond even though you see the messages, and then when I return I talk your ear off lecturing you about responding to let me know that you have seen my messages. And what do you mean you weren’t at the house?”

I sigh. She has a point; that is the way it always works when she goes on a trip.

“I’m sorry Talia. I have just been really stressed today.”

“I get that, and I repeat what do you mean you were not at the house?”

“I’m in the hospital.”

“WHAT?” I flinch and pull the phone away from my head.

“Calm down Tal, I’m fine.”

“No you’re not, if you were fine you wouldn’t be in the hospital!”

“I got emotional about something and I got drunk. I passed out, and they pumped my stomach. All is well now.”

“Alice that does not sound like all is well!”

“Fine I am in pain right now. But I don’t exactly want to talk about it so I am going to hang up now that I know you’re alright. I’m getting tired.”

“Alright Alice just- be careful okay?”

“Okay Tal. See you soon.”

I hang up and lean back, groaning. I love Tal, but she has always been a handful.

“Should I go now? Do you need some rest?” I look over at Blake and nod.

“Thanks Blake. Here, your phone. I will see you later okay?” He nods, takes his phone from my outstretched hand, and walks out of the door. I lean back and close my eyes. I feel the world leave my senses as my breathing slows and I slip silently into dreamland.

I cannot stop laughing as Blake tugs on my arm and pulls me along behind him. He is swerving and changing direction faster than I can keep up, and I just know that I will end up running into a tree.

“Blake! Stop it! Can’t you just show me what you want to show me and stop playing around?” I yell at him between howls of laughter. It is a bright shining morning, and it is my fifteenth birthday. And how do I spend it? Being blindfolded by an overly excited Blake and led to my ‘birthday surprise’. Blake is doing this on purpose, we are in the woods and I am the clumsiest person in town. Add a blindfold to the mix and you can see what a disaster this could become.

“M’ lady, we are almost here!” He tells me in an excited shout and I start laughing all over again. “Aha, the castle approaches!”

I hear the sound of a barn door opening and remember him telling me that he was turning the old abandoned barn into his art studio. I have actually never been here before though. The smell of paint is loud and obnoxious and I cough. Blake laughs again.

“Ah, I see by the look on your face that you have smelt the amazing odor of paint fumes.” I nod.

“Blake just show me already! It smells in here…” I hear him gasp in mock offense and I giggle.

“You dare complain about the greatest scent known to man?”

“I can honestly say that this is not the fragrance I would like to wear at prom Blake, it is very, how I should say… obnoxious?”

He chuckles and then drags me farther inside.

“Alright just a few more steps… THERE! Do not move a muscle, I will be right back.”

I hear rustling and can only imagine the things that he is doing. It is probably something ridiculous…

“Okay take off the blindfold in three, two, one, NOW!” I rip off the annoying fabric and I see Blake holding a large portrait… of me! I gasp and my hands fly to my mouth.

“Blake, did you paint this?”

“Yes I did.” He looks anxious. “Do you like it?”

I start to tear up and take the exquisite painting from his hands. I temporarily put it on an easel and then tackle him in a bear hug.

“It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen Blake. Thank you!” He hugs me back and when I pull away, smiles.

“Really Ally cat?”

“Of course!” I walk over to the painting again. The way he has orchestrated the light and dark makes it look like a photograph. I am in the middle of the picture, smiling while dancing in the meadow near my house. The one where we go to have picnics. My dress is the one that I wore the last time I was there with him, white and strapless and flowy. He has made my hair look golden in the sunlight, and my blue eyes shine. The necklace is glinting in the light, and I look carefree as I dance barefoot on the soft green grass.

“Did you name it?” I look at him and he adopts a thoughtful expression.

“Number one.”

“Number one?” I ask him confused.

“Yes. The first of a collection I like to call Portraits of Alice.”

 

6: An Abundance of Phone Calls

Five days after the drunken phone call to Blake, I am released from the hospital. I am grouchy, tired, sore, and I want to go home and watch old cartoons for the rest of the day. Alas, it is not to be. I enter my dorm and my phone, still lying on the floor near the desk, starts to ring. I sigh and trudge over to it. With a press of a button, I answer the phone and the voice of none other than Blake O’Dell fills my ears.

“Hello?” I am surprised, and I drop the phone.

“Crap! Sorry one moment Blake…” I bend over and pick it up, and then I feel too lazy to stand back up so I plop onto the floor and hold the phone to my ear.

“Blake… why are you calling me?”

“I heard that you were getting out of the hospital today and was wondering when I can bring you to the studio like we discussed. I was thinking tomorrow but I am free-”

“Blake, hold up. That discussion is a memory that is hazy with the effect of painkillers. Did I say that I would come to the studio?”

“Yes, you did.” I sigh, but I know that I cannot go through with this.

“I’m sorry Blake, but I think that was the medicine talking. I don’t think it is a good idea if we stay in contact. I appreciate what you have done for me recently, but I need to move on and so do you.” The phone is silent for a while, and I start to wonder if he has hung up on me.

“Blake?” I timidly bleat into the phone.

“God Alice, what do I have to do? You contact me, and when I try to fix things you shut down!”

“Blake please-”

“No Alice. Make up your mind and call me back when you have a decision. I’m tired of playing games with people.” He hangs up and I stare at my phone. What was that in his voice? Hurt? It sounded like it, but I doubt that he really is hurt by me not wanting to reconnect. He probably just wants to cover up any damage I did on his ego. He was always a little… egotistic. I sigh and stand up, throwing my phone on my bed in the process. I have no idea how I have let my life become so messed up in such a short amount of time. I wish that I had never decided to go to that stupid art show.

I jump, startled by the sound of my phone ringing again. I trudge back over to it and flop onto my bed, hitting ‘answer call’ as I do so.

“Sweetheart! How are you? I heard you were in the hospital!” I groan as my mother’s very concerned voice shrieks in my eardrums. I flinch and pull the phone away from my ear.

“I’m fine Mom. Nothing to worry about.”

“Honey, you were in the hospital!”

“I’m aware of that.” I can practically feel her narrowing her eyes at the phone in disapproval, and the thought makes me smile.

“No need to be smart, I just am concerned about you darling.” I have never really noticed how much my mother uses endearments before. My voice softens at the thought of her worrying over me.

“Really Mom, you have nothing to worry about. I acted stupid and I suffered the consequences. But it’s over now.” The line goes silent for a minute and I start to wonder if she has hung up on me.

“Mom?”

“Alice Marie Simmons did you take drugs!” I groan and throw my arm over my eyes.

“No Mom. Just forget about it, alright?” She sighs, but I can tell that I have won.

“Alright. On another note, I have great news!” I wonder how she is capable of having such drastic mood shifts in such a short amount of time. You would think that the past conversation hadn’t happened at all.

“Yes?”

“I am throwing a great anniversary celebration for your father and me. It will be at the old dance hall, you know the one I am talking about?” She doesn’t give me the time to answer. “I thought so. Well, I expect you to give a speech and to wear a nice dress. It would mean the world to me.”

“Hey Mom?”

“Yes darling?”

“Why do you want me to give a speech?” I have never been eloquent on the slightest. That gene went straight to my brother, but there was no way to get him to prepare a speech. I feel a lump in my throat and swallow. Those are the last thoughts I need to have right now.

“Well… I thought that it would be good for you. You know, with university and all. You can be like your brother was.” Why, oh why, did she bring him up? I was just getting myself collected.

“Mom, I am flattered, really I am. But I am not like Rick. But if it makes you happy, I will do the speech. Now can we change the subject?”

“Thank you sweetie. Now I have a funny story to tell you about my trip to the store yesterday.” She goes off babbling and I set my phone on my bed and just say the occasional comment, such as ‘uh-huh’, and ‘really?’ extra loudly to ensure she hears. I really do love my mother, but she is very tiring after enough time. I close my eyes and start to daydream.

“Move it, mute.”

I feel myself slammed into a locker and look up to see a gang of eighth grade boys laughing at me as I bend down to pick up my books. I hate the chastisement that always comes my way- they don’t understand. I don’t see what they find funny about me being mute. Even those who don’t bully me avoid me like the plague, as if the fact that I cannot talk makes me less than human. I straighten up and walk away to my next class: American History. The walk to the seventh grade hallway is blissfully short, and I find myself there in almost no time at all. I look up once I enter the threshold of the classroom and groan. A substitute teacher is writing on the whiteboard, looking down at a paper in her hand occasionally to see what she must add to the board. I hate substitutes; they tend to think that I am insubordinate when I don’t answer them when they call on me. The only upside to this class is the fact that I share it with Blake.

My chair has a sticky note on it with the word ‘loser’ scrawled across it in messy script. I set my things on the desk and pluck off the note, crumpling it into a ball and tossing it into the nearby trash receptacle. Snickers can be heard from the back of the classroom, and I assume that the note was from one of the boys back there.

“Okay class, I am your substitute, Mrs. Smith. Please pull out your textbooks and flip to page 372.” I sit and flip to the page, dreading the class already. I look over and see Blake flipping his book open. He looks so cute right now, his hair is falling in his face and his necklace is hitting the desk making a noisy clang each time it does so. He looks up and I blush to see I have been caught staring. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice and merely smiles at me, a grin that I cannot help but return whole-heartedly. I look back at the first passage on the page as the teacher starts talking again.

“Okay, who will read the first paragraph? Nobody? Then I will have to pick someone.” Her eyes scan the class and my prayers do me no good as her eyes lock onto me.

“How about you there, in the front row. Read the first paragraph.” I look at the words and try to speak, I really do, but as per usual there are no words forthcoming.

“Excuse me, but I told you to read. Now please begin.” I try again and I get aggravated when the snickers from the back start up again. I look to Blake, but he seems to be oblivious, reading the passage and the next one as if he cannot get enough of the information. He has completely and successfully tuned out the rest the class and I am left on my own.

“Miss, I will not ask again! Read or be sent to the principal’s office.” I wish that I would get help from a fellow classmate, but they don’t care about me in the slightest. I look over desperately one more time at Blake, and luckily he looks up and quickly gets the gist of the situation when he sees my panicked face, the angry substitute, and the laughing kids. He speaks up.

“Excuse me Mrs. Smith?” she turns her icy gaze on him, but he is not intimidated in the least.

“What is it?” She snaps at him.

“Alice can’t read the passage out loud. She’s mute.” Her face shows understanding dawning on her, and she has the decency to look sheepish. She looks back at me after thanking him.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience. How about you there in the back, yes, read the first paragraph to the class.” She starts picking on another kid and I smile gratefully at Blake. He returns it easily.

After class I walk with Blake to my next class. He seems slightly annoyed, and I wonder why. I sign to him.

Hey, are you alright?

He smiles and responds.

“Yeah, I just… nothing, never mind. It’s stupid.” I start insisting he tell me and he stops in the hallway and looks away, sighing.

“It’s just, I don’t understand why everyone feels the need to belittle you. They think that because you can’t talk that you don’t deserve to be listened to, and that is just wrong. You never did anything to them, so why do they do it?” I shrug and he frowns.

“You really are too nice for your own good, you know that right? I also don’t see why I am the one getting so worked up over it when you are the one they antagonize constantly. Don’t they realize that you must be like this for a reason, that you may have had a terrible incident in your life? Why do they need to make things harder for you?” I just smile weakly at him and respond with the only thing that I can think of.

I don’t know, Blake. But I don’t let it get to me because I know that one day, karma will catch up to them. Besides, if they are going to be like that, I don’t need them. I only need you. Your my best friend, Blake, and don’t worry about what they think of me because as long as I have you and the necklace, they can’t get to me.

He smiles and throws his arm around me as we continue walking to our unified arts classes.

“And it is intelligent responses like that, that continue to make you the best person I know, Ally Cat.”