I still watched Anika’s phone camera sometimes when I missed her, but she didn’t spend nearly as much time on it as I would have hoped. Sometimes when I hacked her text messages, I would find pictures of some random guy in her inbox: Scott. The pictures never remained on her phone for more than fifteen seconds after she opened them. If he knew that, he might have taken the hint and left her alone.
Her music taste had shifted dramatically when she left. While I was looking through her iTunes account, I found songs like What Hurts The Most by Rascal Flatts and Far Away by Nickelback, purchased right after she left. Eventually, her spending habits went back to normal, but the number of plays for sad songs was still increasing, even now. I wondered idly if she missed me at all. It was okay if she didn’t. She didn’t have to love me yet. One day, she would come to love me of her own accord, and I would be waiting for her when she did.
Despite knowing she would come back, doubt still gnawed at my mind every day. Every day, I was pulled back down into the dark, depressing realization that she really wasn’t here anymore. That I wasn’t going to go to school and see her. That it had been over a full year since she left. At one point, about six months after her leaving, I’d found myself thinking darker thoughts than usual.
I’d leveled out drastically since she’d left, though. I reminded myself of who she was and that I didn’t need to be “creepy,” as she put it, and that there were more ways to show her my love than just watching her cameras and checking up on her. If she came back, I would get rid of all of the cameras. That much was certain.
The few times I had talked to her since her departure were so amazing. Hearing her voice was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being held underwater for minutes at a time; every time I was certain that I was going to drown, she was there again. Like she could feel me losing my grip, even though she was so far away.
Water splashed onto my foot and I looked at it thoughtfully. That’s exactly how I could explain what I felt: drowning.
The slow suffocation from not being able to talk to her, the inability to do anything to pull myself away from the situation. I was drowning. But, as I said before, she kept saving me, and every time she did, I was so grateful that I would be okay for longer periods of time.
Someday I would tell her about this. About how I felt when she wasn’t with me. About how everyone who had depended on her changed so dramatically. She had no idea how much she had affected their lives. Someday we would look back on this together with happiness rather than sadness because it had only strengthened us to find out that we could keep our feelings alive despite the distance.
Someday I was going to go get her and bring her back. Or maybe I’d stay with her instead.
My phone buzzed and my heart pounded anxiously like it did every time my text tone went off; every time, I hoped it was Anika.
foster?
yes? I replied, without hesitation.
can you come to washington?
Chapter 18
I bounced my leg nervously as I sat on the bench. My plane had landed only minutes ago but I was so impatient to see Anika that it felt like years since I’d landed in Washington. Her name was racing through my head; no, through my veins. It consumed me, and the mental picture of her was making me even more impatient. It hadn’t even occurred to me to check her phone. Maybe I should, I thought. Could she have gotten stuck somewhere? Could she see me from where she was? Maybe she wasn’t coming at all…?
Then I saw her.
She looked so different. Her brown hair was cut so short that it looked like a pixie cut, but it was beautiful on her. Her body looked so much more… toned. She’d mentioned getting really into running since she’d been in Washington and it was very clear now. Anika was still a delicate beauty, with the gentle curves of her face and the soft cream color of her skin, but there was something almost dangerous about her now with her newly muscled legs. She wore a tank top and jeans, and I didn’t even register getting up before I had my arms around her, pulling her to my chest.
A vanilla coconut scent flooded my nose and swirled around me; it was intoxicating.
“Foster, I can’t breathe.”
Her voice was amused but I loosened my grip on her. I wasn’t ready to let go of her just yet. I wanted to stay like this for hours, despite the crowded airport moving around us.
I pulled back a little to look at her. To study her face. I’d missed looking into those sapphire labyrinths.
She looked… tired. Happy, but tired. I pulled her against my chest again and closed my eyes. I’d missed her so much. Every desire I’d had to feel her was finally being relieved, with my arms around her waist pulling her to me so tightly.
A boy chuckled and I looked up.
It was the boy from the pictures on her phone.
Scott.
He had sandy blond hair and warm hazel eyes, and a huge grin was spread across his face. “You’re Foster, I guess?”
Immediately my hostility went up and I tightened my grip on Anika. “Yes.”
“Nice to meet you.” He flashed another smile, but I was irritated.
Anika felt me tense up and sighed quietly. “Old habits die hard, I guess.” She pushed on my chest a little and pointed. “This is Scott, my friend.” The emphasis she put on friend was clearly directed at me, and it didn’t seem to bother him at all; his smile didn’t falter. So they weren’t together, then? Her bright blue eyes were happy; she didn’t seem to have any hurt feelings attached to him. So it was mutual, then. She saw the hostility drain from my eyes and hugged me tightly. “I missed you, Foster.”
I’d been waiting for those words for so long.
All I wanted to do was kiss her.
“C’mon, we’re gonna go back to my house,” she said.
“I thought I was staying in a hotel?”
“No, we have a couple extra rooms now. My dad’s mechanic shop got some insane donation from an anonymous person and now he’s making, like, three times what he was making before, even though he can’t work much now.” She smiled at me again, flashing her white teeth.
A small smile threatened to reveal my thoughts, but I suppressed it. There was no reason to ruin the anonymity. “Alright, let’s go.”
***
I nodded as I approached the house. “Very nice house.”
Anika laughed. “You practically live in a mansion and you think this is nice?”
I chuckled in response and looked at her. She’d changed; it was a good change, though, and I could adapt to it. The normal sarcastic tone that lightened her voice wasn’t there anymore and the aggressive nature appeared to have completely left her. Maybe her running had helped her to calm down and mellow out? I could handle that, though. However she’d changed, I could accept it and adapt to it. She was still Anika. I still loved her.
“These bags are so hard to carry,” said Scott.
Scott’s voice irritated me a little. I’d asked to carry my own stuff but he’d insisted that he carry it, and now he was complaining. The entire ride over here he’d been making really stupid puns and referencing movies and TV shows I’d never seen before. If I had understood the references it might have been bearable, but it was ridiculous. Who the hell had seen Sharknado? What the hell was that? What Anika saw in him was completely over my head. If she could be interested in someone like me, how could she also be interested in someone like… him?
“Hey, I’m gonna throw these in a guest room and go talk to your dad, alright?” said Scott.
Anika nodded in reply then turned to face me once we were alone again. “So.” She smiled. “Anything interesting happen while I was gone?”
“I’m pretty sure nothing interesting is capable of happening when you’re gone, Anika.” My voice came out a little huskier than I had intended it to, rough with emotion. I meant it; nothing major happened since she left, other than Mitchell’s apparent disappearance. I was so relieved to be with her that I couldn’t
control my voice. I looked around the room. “There’s pictures of your family in this room. You didn’t have pictures at your last house.”
She tilted her head. “Yeah. We never saw the point in pictures. That is, until Charlie came onto the scene.”
“Who’s Charlie?”
“The little sister I didn’t know I had. Well, half-sister, I guess.” Anika’s voice trailed a little as she looked around the room. “My mom was out of our lives for about a year a couple of years back, and I guess this is why. She’s back now though, and Charlie’s apparently been living with her dad until now. He got arrested or something. She’s been with us for…” she exhaled slowly as she thought, “two months now? I don’t know exactly. All of the time recently has blurred together.” Her blue eyes shone as she looked at me. “She’s sweet, though. I’ve always wanted a sister.”
I smiled. As long as this wasn’t bothering her, it was a good thing, right? My gaze slid along the pictures, looking for the little girl. When I found her, I was surprised; she was only a couple of years old. Her blue eyes matched Anika’s and she had brown hair, but the shade of brown was more dirty blonde. Cute kid. I wondered vaguely if my own mother had had more children since she left us.
“Do you want to meet her? She’s with my dad right now, I think. My mom’s really pushing for them to be close,” said Anika.
I nodded. “I’d love to.”
She smiled at me and led me to a door which I found out led to the kitchen.
I saw three things in this room.
Anika’s father.
Charlie.
And Mitchell.
Chapter 19
Foster
Six Years Ago
I wiped my palms on my dress pants nervously as I looked around the lunch room. Middle school was so… intimidating. Maybe I wasn’t ready for public school. Maybe I should call my dad to come get me. Maybe… Maybe no one would ever like me. There wasn’t much to like anyway, and in the two months at this school, no one had tried to talk to me unless they needed help with homework. I just wanted one friend, and that would be enough. Everyone that knew who my dad was treated me badly. No one wanted to talk to me.
I took a deep breath. Today was the day I tried to sit with the other kids.
My eyes slid skittishly across the tables. Where would I sit? There were so many people… Who was I to even think any of them wanted me to sit with them? Finally, I saw a kid from my art class. His name was Brady. Maybe… Maybe he would let me sit with him. He seemed nice, kind of. His art was okay when he wasn’t looking at a girl the whole time. In his defense, she was beautiful. So beautiful that I’d dropped a paint palette on my pants when she asked to borrow it. Girls were difficult to deal with. Especially that one. She seemed kind of mean sometimes, and she would only talk to two people. That wasn’t fair. I wanted to talk to her, but… How? She was the kind of girl that you wanted to impress when you talked to her for the first time; that wasn’t my skill set. She had spoken to me a few times, and she always said really nice things, but I had nothing to impress her with. All I was good at was computers. What kind of girl likes that?
I looked at Brady nervously when I reached the table. “U-um… Brady… is… is it okay if I um… could I maybe sit… with you?”
Brady looked at me with a confused expression. “Do I know you?”
“I… I’m in your…” My palms were sweaty and I shook my head quickly. “N-nothing, I’m sorry, I-I’ll go.”
As I turned my back, they started laughing at me. Tears filled my eyes and I clenched my fists as I fled. Why had I even asked? I wasn’t cool or athletic or strong like them. I was just a short kid with messy hair and neon braces; I could barely lift my textbooks. I was a total wimp.
***
I sat on the swing and looked at the ground as tears rolled off my cheeks and fell into the mulch of the school playground, disappearing as if they’d never existed.
“Are you crying?” asked a boy.
I looked up and wiped my cheeks. “N-no,” I managed between hiccups.
“You totally are, you baby.” The boy grinned evilly at me and laughed.
I looked up at him and stood up. He was my age, but he was so much taller. I’d always been a short kid. “Leave me alone.”
He grinned again and shoved my shoulder so I fell.
The swing went out from under me, sending me sprawling to the ground. My head hit the ground hard and I stared up at the boy in fear. “S-stop it! Leave me alone!”
“Make me, crybaby! You think you’re cool because your dad is rich but you aren’t! You’re just ugly and short and nerdy!”
“Knock that off.” A few feet away stood the beautiful girl with brown hair from my art class. Anika. She looked at the boy uncertainly, while another boy tugged at her arm, begging for them to leave.
The nasty boy walked toward the girl quickly and shoved her by the shoulders. “Wanna make me?”
She stumbled backward and stared at the boy but changed her stance and turned her entire body to face him. “Yeah, I do!”
He glared at her. “Stupid girl.” The boy shoved her harder and this time she fell down.
I stared. What was she doing?
Anika winced but pushed herself to her feet again. “Leave him alone.”
This time, when he shoved her to the ground, he stepped on her stomach and she half screamed, starting to struggle. What could I do? Why did she stand up? Why was she helping me?
The boy who had been with Anika came running back, towing a tiny blonde with him and the girl held up a whistle. “I-I’ll blow this whistle if you don’t stop and you’ll get expelled because the teachers put me in charge of the anti-bullying club!” she squeaked nervously, clearly uncertain of what she was saying.
I watched the boy get off of her with a roll of his eyes and run off after glaring at me again. I lay on the ground just staring at her. Why had she…?
“Are you okay?” she muttered quietly in my direction.
I nodded slowly. “Th-thank you.”
Then she did something that confused me.
She smiled.
I kept staring.
“I’m glad you’re okay. I didn’t want to watch someone get hurt. Especially someone so small. You need to be protected.”
I nodded slowly again.
She offered me her hand and helped me up. The blonde with the whistle stood off to the side with the other boy that I’d seen and I looked up at her in confusion.
“I think people should protect people more often instead of fighting,” she murmured, not looking at me directly. “The world would be better.”
“A-aren’t…” I tried desperately to find my voice, “aren’t boys meant to be the ones protecting the girls?”
She thought for a moment. “Nah. I don’t think so.” For the first time, she looked me dead in the eyes. “I think people should protect the people they feel need protecting, no matter what.” Anika looked away a little again. “That’s all.”
A bell rang.
“Lunch is over. Bye!” She grabbed the other boy by the hand and ran off to the school with him and the girl.
***
I poked my food without interest.
My dad looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Is something wrong, Foster?”
I clenched my teeth. Yesterday at school, I found out Brady beat up the boy that hurt me and Anika on Monday. He protected her. He did something about it. Why hadn’t I? Why was I such a wimp? Why was I so small? Why… Why hadn’t I done anything when she got hurt by him? I should have… helped her. Protected her. It was a boy’s job, even if she said it wasn’t. “Dad, I don’t like my school. I want to go somewhere else where there aren’t any bullies.”
He was quiet for a moment. “What do you say we go to our house in Alaska until you’re ready to come back and face whatever you’re running from?”
I nodded and looked down at my dinner. “Dad, how do
you protect someone?”
He chuckled. “Sometimes you can’t protect people from everything. The only way you could keep someone safe all the time is if you watched them on a camera or something,” he laughed again, louder, “but that isn’t a realistic way to deal with anything.”
I nodded. “Let’s go to Alaska.”
He nodded distantly. “I’ll have the plane here in the morning.”
Finally, I took a bite of spinach, something that made my dad stare at me in surprise. I never ate vegetables. But if I was going to be big enough to protect people, to not get pushed around by anyone anymore, I needed to change.
I wouldn’t be helpless next time.
Never again.
Chapter 20
Anika
I glared up at Foster as he looked away like nothing had happened. He was looking at the walls of my room, holding one of his smaller suitcases carelessly.
“You can’t put me in timeout,” he muttered, pouting.
“Actually, I can. If Daddy hadn’t gotten between you and Mitchell, you could have hurt him. Ugh, I thought you would have gotten over this by now. You can’t just kill all of my friends, Foster!” I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Seriously, if you try to hurt him again, you can’t stay here. I invited you because I truly missed you, and you’re trying to kill my best friend within twenty minutes.”
Foster’s eyes shot to mine immediately, their black depths flickering. “You’d let him stay but not me?”
There was a knock on my door and I turned to look at Mitchell, who was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.
I sighed. “Come in.”
Mitchell stood a few feet away from Foster and me. “If it’s really a problem, I could leave, Anika. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”
I reached out and took his hand reassuringly. “No. You’re my best friend, and you were here first. You’ve already been staying with us for a couple weeks. I’m not making you leave just because Foster can’t behave.”
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