Sacha came out of her room which her backpack over her shoulders, a pillow under one arm, then grabbed her coffee mug off the dining table. “Good morning,” she said to Aimee.
“Good morning,” Aimee greeted back. “Ready for a road trip?”
James quickly responded. “Sacha is sitting up front with you. I get the back, and I want you hens to keep it down to a mild cackle.”
Aimee punched her brother lightly, then said to Sacha, “See what I've had to put up with all my life?”
“Yeah, he is kinda a pain in the butt, isn't he?” replied Sacha.
The three quickly loaded the igloo and three folding chairs into the Camry, all jumped in, then Aimee drove the car towards I-5 to head north.
James got settled into the back. Before he drifted back to sleep he asked Aimee, “You good to drive?”
“Yep,” Aimee replied.
“Well, if you start feeling any of your weird stuff, pull over and let Sach drive. I wanna get there alive. Okay?”
“Sure thing, James,” Aimee answered as she peeked into the back at her brother, then glanced over at Sacha and shook her head.
Four and a half hours later they made it to Seattle. James abruptly sat up, wiped his eyes as he looked out the window.
“Hello,” Aimee said as she checked the mirror.
“Hey,” he said gruffly, “where are we?”
Sacha answered, “Almost to the stadium.”
“Cool,” he answered.
“Did you sleep?” Aimee asked.
“Yeah. I can't believe you two stayed quiet the whole way.”
Aimee replied, “We didn't. You could sleep through a hurricane.”
Sacha laughed, then added, “He can sleep through an earthquake. He did that the last time we went to visit my parents.”
“Seriously?” Aimee replied.
“Okay, you two. What is it, Pick on James Day?”
Aimee and Sacha laughed. All of a sudden, Sacha noticed the sign for the turnoff to the stadium. “Hey, next right,” she informed Aimee.
The traffic near the stadium was brutal. It took them about twenty minutes to get to the parking area, and another ten minutes to get into the lot. Tailgate parties were happening all around them. They quickly parked, Aimee popped the trunk, and they got out the igloo with their goodies, and grabbed the chairs. It didn't take long for them to join the fun. Everyone around them was wearing Bears gear. They were, too. James was stoked about the game. He didn’t get to cover the championship game the year before, and this year he lucked out and didn’t have to work so he could enjoy it with Sacha and Aimee. The excitement around them was infectious. Aimee even felt the fever. About thirty minutes before kickoff, they packed up their igloo and chairs, locked the Camry, and headed towards the front gate with the crowd pushing them along. After another twenty minutes, they found their seats and settled in for a great game.
The stadium was packed, and the crowd, both sides, was pumped. The noise was earsplitting. When the Bears came out, their fans jumped to their feet screaming and hollering and whooping. It didn't take long for the fans to see it was going to be an exciting game. The Tigers were going to make the Bears work hard to get their second straight championship. Towards the end of the first quarter, Aimee suddenly needed to go to the restroom. She stood to crawl over Sacha, James, then two more people to get to the steps. As she stepped around the last person in the aisle, she looked up into the crowd and immediately spotted them. Her stomach flipped. And Brandi spotted her. Both stared at each other for a long second, then Aimee looked down to watch her feet so she wouldn't trip. As she reached the row where Andrew and Brandi sat, she paused and glanced over. Brandi was watching her. Even though it was January, and the temperature was in the forties, Aimee felt sweat beading up on her forehead. She quickly looked away and sped up the steps to the landing, then hurried to the restroom. While in the stall, she made up her mind she wasn't going to let Brandi ruin her time at the game. After all, they were several rows apart so she didn't have to interact with her. Aimee finished and started to open the door. Much to her surprise, Brandi was leaning against the sink counter, her arms crossed tightly. She had a evil smirk on her face. Aimee walked up to wash her hands.
“Excuse me,” Aimee said to Brandi. Brandi scooted over a few inches, just enough to let Aimee get to the sink. Aimee tried to ignore her, but Brandi wasn't going to leave Aimee alone.
Brandi suddenly asked, “So, how was your week in New York with Chelsea?”
Aimee spun around, her hands dripping wet, and gawked at Brandi. “How do you know I was in New York?”
Brandi sniggered and nodded. “Well,” she started, “seems like Dylan was at the same New Year’s party the other night.”
Aimee fired back, “He didn't tell me that.”
Brandi cleared her throat, then said, “You think I'm lying?”
“No, but why would I care? I know Dylan. You are on his 'People I Hate' list,” Aimee spit out.
Brandi replied with a sneer, “You think so?”
“Yeah, I know so,” growled Aimee.
“Well, you must have really done something to mess with his head the other night because when Andrew and I got there around ten, Dylan was drunk, and it didn't take him long to make his move. Every time Andrew was off somewhere else, Dylan was right there...”
Angrily, Aimee exclaimed, “You're lying!”
“Lying?” Brandi jeered. “You screwed with him, and he finally realized what a loser you are. And he apologized for leaving me.” Brandi snarled in Aimee's face, “He still loves me...”
Aimee hissed, “You're a lying bitch!”
Brandi smiled wickedly, then reached into her pocket. Quickly she pulled out her cell phone, swiped a few screens, and pulled up a video. She stuck the phone in Aimee's face.
Aimee watched the video for a few seconds. Her knees went weak, and what she ate at lunch started to swirl in her stomach. Aimee stared at the phone, then at Brandi. “You're not just a lying bitch, you're an evil one, too,” she accused through her clenched teeth.
Brandi snickered. Aimee pushed past Brandi, knocking her back to the counter, then raced out the door just as a mother and her young daughter walked into the restroom. Aimee felt ill. She couldn't go back to watch the game. She had to get out of there so she walked and walked and walked around the stadium. Before long, her phone in her back pocket vibrated. Aimee whipped the phone out. Sacha was on the screen. Aimee couldn't answer, not right now. She had to quit crying before she could talk, so she texted Sacha back.
Can't talk right now...i'm okay...will be back in a bit...
She hit Send, then stuffed her phone back in her pocket. After a couple minutes she made it to the outer edge of the stadium. Standing on the upper level, she looked out across Seattle, then she looked down. For a fleeting moment she thought she would do it, but she couldn't jump. As upset as she was with Brandi, she was even more hurt by Dylan, but she wasn't crazy. How could he? she kept repeating to herself. She tried to stuff the tears back, but she couldn't. They flowed freely down her cheeks into her UC hoodie as she stared out, her mind a million miles away from the game. She could no longer hear the crowd screaming and cheering for their teams. Her heart hurt so badly. She whipped out her phone and her fingers flew across the keyboard.
I'm not feeling good...going to the car for the rest of the game...don't worry...I'll be okay...just come when the game is over...
She sent the message to Sacha, slid her phone into her pocket, then rapidly started towards the exit. People were too involved in the game to even notice her. She didn't care if they did. After about ten minutes she made it down to the ground level, then out the gate into the parking lot. Quickly she walked to her car, whipped the keys out of her front pocket, then tapped the Open button. Aimee couldn't get into the car fast enough before she broke down sobbing. The video of Dylan kissing Brandi imprinted in her brain. “How could he?” she screamed out loud as she pounded her steering wheel.
She didn't want to believe it. He hated Brandi. Aimee hated her, too. But pictures don't lie, and somehow, someway, someone had taken that video. Aimee cried until her eyes ran dry. From the stadium the excitement of the crowd reached miles around, but she couldn't hear it. Aimee felt numb. She kicked back her seat, closed her eyes, and let her mind frantically deal with the image of her beloved Dylan with her enemy. Suddenly the veggie sandwich worked itself up. Aimee pitched open the door and hung out just in time. After puking she slammed the door, locked it, grabbed a napkin from the console and swiped at her mouth, then sank back into the leather under her. She couldn't think straight, but her brain hurt so after a few minutes she drifted off into sleep.
Aimee awoke suddenly when James knocked on the passenger window. “Hey, you okay?” he shouted through the closed window. Aimee unlocked the door and James opened it. She looked first at James, then at Sacha. James asked, “What's wrong?”
“I got sick,” she said as she pulled the seat back into upright.
“Do you want me to drive?” he asked.
Aimee answered, “Do you mind?”
James said, “Nope. Why don't you get in the back.”
Aimee opened her door, and carefully stepped over the vomit as she got out. James came around the car and suddenly halted when he saw the puke. Aimee shrugged, then said before he could ask, “I texted Sacha I was sick.”
James stretched one leg over the vomit and into the car. Aimee crawled into the back, and Sacha got into the passenger seat. She looked over the seat at Aimee. “Let us know if you start feeling sick. We'll pull over.”
“Thanks,” Aimee managed.
As James backed out, he shared, “Oh, by the way, the Bears won by ten, and Dylan got to play in the fourth quarter. You should have been there. It was great...”
Aimee interrupted, “If you don't mind, can we not talk. My stomach is kinda queasy, and talking doesn't help.”
“Oh, sure,” James replied as he glanced over at Sacha. She looked over her shoulder at Aimee, then back to James. They continued in silence as they crawled back to I-5 to head south to Oregon.
A little before ten, James eased the Camry into the same space Aimee had parked that morning. Aimee sat up, looked out the side windows and wiped her eyes. She noticed the clock on the dash. It read 9:54. “Thanks for driving,” Aimee said gravelly.
“Feeling better?” he asked as he looked into the rearview mirror at her.
She answered, “Not much.”
Sacha said, “Well, go home and to bed.”
Aimee let out one long sigh. “Sure,” she said deflated.
Sacha and James retrieved the igloo and chairs as fast as possible, bid their good-byes, then watched Aimee back and pull out of the parking lot, then turn the direction to her new house before they went into the apartment.
Aimee didn't realize she had made it back to the interstate, and instead of turning right, she went straight under the overpass and hung a left. She punched the gas and the Camry flew up the ramp, onto the interstate heading north. She drove in a daze, not sure where she was going. She only knew she couldn't go to the house. She had to get away to breathe, to try to figure out what she needed to do next. Did Dylan cheat on me? Aimee frantically asked herself. No way...no way! she tried to convince herself, but Brandi had a video of them making out. Why? Why? Why? she desperately wondered, but she already knew the answer. Dylan was crazy jealous, and he didn't trust Aimee the way someone who loves another should. At least that was the way Aimee felt. Anyway, she couldn't go back to their house or sleep in their bed. Not now. She needed somewhere to go, and some time to think. So, her Camry, of its own mind, headed north.
The clock read 12:28 am when Aimee arrived at Oceanside. She wasn't sure how she got there because her mind felt like an empty tomb. But she realized why she was here. She couldn't stay in Eugene, and going home to Dad wasn't an option, not the day after she and Dylan moved in with each other. So she went to the only other possible place she knew there was someone who could understand her, because he was like her, and because he somehow, someway knew her. Aimee pulled into the parking lot of the hotel where she had last seen Joseph in Oceanside, and put the car in Park. The battle was strong in her heart. She felt it was wrong to be here. Twice while she sat there trying to talk herself out of being in Oceanside, she put the car into Reverse, but she didn't take her foot off the brake. Both times she slid it back into Park, and after the second time she turned off the car and grabbed her phone from her backpack. There were four texts and six calls from Dylan, and as many from James. She didn't want an All State lookout for her, so she quickly texted both.
Don't worry about me...i'm not missing...i had to leave to take care of some unexpected business...i'll be home soon...
She tapped Send, then rested back into the seat and sighed. Well, she thought to herself, either go inside, or leave. Her better sense should have told her to leave, but her brain still felt foggy, so she snatched the keys, grabbed her backpack, and headed into the hotel's lobby. It was 12:45 now, and the lobby was empty, except for the night attendant, who looked up as Aimee came through the door. Aimee hurried up to the desk.
“Good morning,” he started, “how can I help you?”
Aimee looked at his name tag. Oscar was printed, with Roswell, New Mexico, printed underneath. “Uh, good morning...Oscar,” she said as she looked at the gentleman behind the counter. “I'm looking for someone who is staying at this hotel.”
“I'm sorry, ma'am. I can't release a room number, but if you give me his name, I can leave a message on his room phone.”
Aimee sighed in frustration, but she didn't have a choice. She didn't know for sure Joseph was here, except he had mentioned he was coming to Oceanside until the quarter started, which was Monday, and that he stayed at this hotel when he was in town. “Okay, well, I'm looking for a Dr. Joseph Smith,” she said anxiously as she looked at Oscar. He smiled, then started searching on his screen.
“Ah, yes,” he announced lightly. “Dr. Smith is registered here. I'll buzz his room and leave a message. And your name?”
“Aimee Schmidt,” she said.
Oscar left the message, then hung up. “If you would like, I can check to see if we have a guest room for you?”
“No, thank you,” Aimee quickly said. “I think I'll wait a little bit, and if he doesn't show, I'm not staying.”
Oscar smiled at her, then replied, “Very well. There's nothing really open at this time of the night, except for the bars. If you would like, you can wait here in the lobby.”
Aimee nodded, then answered, “Thanks. I think I will.”
She wandered over to one of the couches in the lobby, set her backpack down, and then slowly sat down herself. But she had sat for most of the day, so her nerves were fried and she was edgy. She popped back up and wandered over to a display of tourist attractions in Oceanside, as well as other areas in Oregon. Aimee aimlessly picked out a few, scanned the information, then stuffed them back into the slots. That took all of five minutes. Slowly, she walked over to the entrance of the bar and peeked in. Music was playing and she spotted a couple at the bar, talking and having a drink. The bartender was washing glasses. Aimee looked around the corner of the entrance hoping to see Joseph, but only one other couple was there. The bartender glanced up at her and started towards that end of the bar.
“Can I help you?” he asked before Aimee could back out of the room.
“Maybe,” she said nervously. “I'm looking for a gentleman...”
The bartender grinned, but didn't say a word. Aimee was too naive so she missed what he thought was so funny.
After a second, she continued, “...anyway, a man named Joseph Smith. He stays here a lot, and I was hoping he might be in here getting a nightcap.”
“What does he look like?” the bartender asked.
“About six foot, maybe, and thin. Long blonde hair to about his shoulders. Really blue eyes...”
“Hmmm,” the bartender resp
onded as he thought about the description.
“...and he is British.”
At that, the bartender nodded. “Yeah, I know that person. He comes in here once in a while, usually by himself, but occasionally with two or three other young folks.”
Yes! Aimee instantly thought.
“But I haven't seen him in here in the past few weeks,” the bartender added.
Instantly, Aimee's hopes were dashed. “Okay, thank you,” she said, then forced a limp smile.
“You're welcome. Can I get you something. We're only open to 1:30 in the winter. Last call is in a few minutes.”
Again Aimee tried to smile. “Thanks, but no thanks,” she replied, then she left and went back into the lobby, set her backpack down again on the couch, and plopped down. Discouraged, she pulled her phone out of the pack and checked it. She had two texts; one from Dylan and the newest from James.
She quickly opened Dylan's.
Where the hell are you?!!
She frowned, closed it, then opened James's.
Where the hell are you!?!
Should I let them wonder? Quickly she answered both as a group text.
Don't worry...i'm fine...i don't want to talk right now...
Aimee hit Send, then stuffed the phone back in the pack and sighed while she sat back into the cushion. She wasn't going to check the phone again. She thought she had made her intentions clear enough, and let them know she was okay. Anxious, she jumped back up and hurried to the front desk.
The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: Seeking Others Page 28
