by Konen, Leah
He hesitated. “I wanted to, but — ” his voice trailed off.
“But what?”
He looked at her, almost like he had something else to say, but then he just shrugged. “It’s not really my place,” he said. “I mean, Astrid was her daughter and whatever she wants to do is what she should do. I’m just here to try and help.”
Ella nodded. She stared at the stage in front of her. Three bearded guys looked like they were about ready to start. She took another sip and she realized that in minutes she’d downed her beer.
“I wish I could see it again,” she said, but as she did, there was a crash of drums, and then the sound of the electric guitar, and the band began to play, and she didn’t even know if Jake had heard her. But she knew that they didn’t have to fill the empty spaces anymore.
• • •
Ben drove her home. They left halfway into the next act, and Jake stayed — he figured he might as well hear some music. She didn’t know if she could do that, stay at a show alone. She looked over at Ben. She guessed she didn’t really need to. That was the nice thing about him. She knew she’d always have someone to count on — even if his attempts at understanding left a little to be desired.
They bumped along the windy mountain road that led from The Grove back towards their houses. It was extra bumpy in Ben’s Jeep.
“So Jake seems cool,” Ben said, as he turned onto her street.
“Yeah,” she said. “I wasn’t sure at first but he seems cool enough now. I like him.”
Ben was silent, and Ella looked over. He was looking straight ahead and still wore a slight grin, but against the wheel his hands were ever-so-slightly clasped tighter. After three years of dating, she’d learned to notice those things.
“What?” she asked.
Ben shrugged. “Interesting choice of words is all.”
“What, cause I said I like him?”
“Well he certainly likes you.”
Ella laughed. “I’m like the only person he knows in town. He’s kind of forced to like me.”
“Well isn’t that convenient?” Ben said as he pulled into her driveway.
Ella fumbled for her purse on the floor and then looked back up at Ben. He’d put the car into park, but he still looked tense. Beneath his t-shirt she could see that the muscles in his arms were taut. “You’re not serious, are you? You’re not actually jealous?”
“I’m not jealous,” Ben said. “I just thought it was interesting that he came only to see you, bought only you a drink, and talked to only you the entire time.”
“You were talking to Carter,” she said.
“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me.”
Ella just stared at him. At first she’d thought it was just funny, but now she felt anger bubble in her stomach. Of all the stupid things to worry about — as if she didn’t have enough going on.
She put her hand on the car door. “Thanks for being there for me, Ben.”
But he reached out, put his hand on her shoulder. “What does that mean? You know I’m here for you.”
Ella shook it off. “No, you’re just worried about who I talk to and where I get my drinks. You don’t think that it might be nice to have someone to talk to from her family? You don’t think that Jake might understand a few things that you don’t? Oh wait, you were too busy talking about football and being irrationally jealous to actually think of me.”
“Ella,” he said, reaching for her arm, but she pushed open the door, slipping out of his grasp.
She stood there, facing him, one hand on the door. “I know you’re a dude and all, but I thought that you might be able to put your stupid macho ego aside for a minute while I deal with the fact that my best friend is gone.” And she slammed the car door before he could get in another word, and ran up the steps of the porch and inside before he could see her start to cry.
• • •
Ella dreamed about Astrid that night. She was following the same path she’d followed the day they’d found her. But now it was night. The sky was dark, purpley, and the moon was bright. That was what a dream could do. Take your real-life nightmare and make it even worse.
She was walking through the woods, ducking under branches, and avoiding snares. She could feel that she wasn’t alone, that Grace was just behind her, but even when she tried to turn she couldn’t.
She wanted to run, but she couldn’t do that either.
Finally, the cabin was before her, splashed in shadows. She walked up to it, and she knew that there was something, something so unimaginably bad behind those doors. She felt her body break into chills and a heavy weight in her stomach.
She opened the door in slow motion, and things were all out of order now. She heard Grace’s gasps and cries behind her, and she saw Astrid lying on the floor. Ella ran as fast as she could — but now her vision was foggy, her legs were like rubber — she knelt down beside Astrid.
Maybe this time she wasn’t too late. Maybe this time she could actually save her, but then the room began to spin, and there were the pictures, all of them, staring at her, teasing and taunting her, Astrid’s face in every single one.
The room spun faster, and she tried desperately to focus, to see Astrid in front of her, and eventually she could. Her skin was pale. Her hair was spread out in tangles. Her neck was bare. But her eyes weren’t open this time. Her eyes were shut tight.
Ella tried to touch her but her hands wouldn’t move.
And then it happened: Astrid’s eyes flickered open, but they weren’t blue; they were black. Deep, gaping holes.
Her mouth formed a soundless shape. “Help.”
Ella woke covered in a cold sweat.
She sat up, her chest heaving, and shook her head back and forth, trying to get rid of the horrible image. She was surrounded by darkness. If someone had been two feet in front of her, she wouldn’t have known. She fumbled her way out of bed and opened the blinds just to get some light, but the shadows were almost worse.
She walked across her room and flipped on the light. There was nothing there. Just her room. Just her boring, safe old room. But God, did it feel like so much more.
Ella sat down on her bed, drew her legs up beneath her arms, trying to get back to reality, the slamming of the car door, the anger she’d felt at Ben, the feedback from the band up on stage. Not the message. Not the dream. But all of that felt like a whole different world altogether.
She didn’t want to go back to sleep — she knew that Astrid’s black eyes would be waiting for her when she did — but her own eyelids pulled heavy at her. So she lay down, the lights still on. She wouldn’t sleep. She’d just lie there.
God help her, she wouldn’t go back to that place.
• • •
She felt like a zombie the next morning. She had slept — of course she had — even with the lights on. The dream had been there, waiting for her. It seemed like every time she shut her eyes she was back in those damn woods, with Astrid to jolt her awake.
At some point in the night it had stopped, though, and she’d caught a few minutes sleep without Astrid’s face right in front of her. Of course, then she woke and realized that she’d overslept.
Jake barely looked up when she got to Trail Mix half an hour late. The line of customers was almost out the door. Looking down at her watch — she was usually never late — she squeezed through the crowd and grabbed her apron off the hook, tying it behind her as quickly as she could.
“Hi,” she said. “Sorry I’m late. What are these?” she asked. The espresso machine was littered with two carafes half-full of milk, a turned over espresso glass, and three empty paper cups.
Jake quickly shoved the money in the register and turned to her. “You okay?” he asked. His face looked genuine, his eyes open wide. “You look awful.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” she said. And she felt awful. Her head hurt, her eyes seemed to be begging her to let them shut, she’d woken too late to have even a d
rop of coffee or a handful of dry cereal, and it was hot as Hades in the café. “I couldn’t sleep.”
A grumpy man crossed his arms at the front of the line, and she repeated the question, even though all she wanted to do was lie down. “What are these?”
“Oh,” Jake said, as if he had forgotten the whole line of people out of concern for her. “Two lattes, one skinny, one with soy, and a red-eye — two shots,” he rattled off.
Ella nodded. She slowly tamped down the espresso and began to pull the shot.
It was hard to focus, and her mind wanted to wander. She thought of the first time she’d been here as espresso started to drip, the smell of the beans strong and bitter.
She hadn’t liked the smell then — what self-respecting eleven-year-old did like the smell of coffee? Her mom had just gotten a job teaching art at the university, and they were moving out of her grandparents’ house for the first time, driving down from New Jersey and starting their new life together. Their van was full of boxes — it was the cheapest moving truck they could get, and the AC was barely working, the North Carolina air almost suffocating them, it was so humid and thick. Ella wanted a lemonade, her mom wanted coffee, and Trail Mix, tucked among the trees along the main street in town, seemed like the best bet.
Ella began to heat up the milk as the shot continued to drip.
Some of her memories were clear, like pictures. And maybe they weren’t really memories — maybe they were creations of her mind, drawn and fleshed out from years of loving Astrid and Grace, but what she remembered so deeply was the shock of red hair — on the both of them. It was the first thing she saw when she walked in.
“What can I get y’all?” Grace had said, flashing a killer smile. Astrid stood there next to her. She was gawky and tall for her age — just like Ella.
Astrid smiled at her while her mom ordered a latte and a lemonade and talked about the normal adult things with Grace — weather and where to find the drug store.
“You new here?” Astrid asked, as she carefully counted out the change. Her hair was wild and curly, and she had a vintage-y key tied around her neck.
Ella nodded. “Just got here today.”
“What grade?” she asked.
“Fifth,” Ella said.
“Me too,” Astrid said.
“What school are you in?” Ella asked.
Astrid just laughed. “There’s only one school here. Falling Rock Elementary. Who’s your teacher?”
“I don’t know,” Ella said, as Grace handed her the lemonade, and her mom started towards the door.
“Maybe I’ll see you in school,” Astrid said, smiling as they walked out the door. And even then she knew that she liked her. Even then she hoped that they’d be friends for a long, long time. So much for that.
“You okay?” Jake asked, snapping Ella back to reality. Espresso was spilling over the shot glass. She’d accidently brewed a double-shot.
“Sorry,” she said, setting the milk down and attempting to pull it out, but as she did she just knocked over one of the other carafes.
“Whoa,” Jake said, pulling her by the arm as the bubbling milk spilled down the side of the counter. “That’s hot,” he said.
She heard muttering in the line. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what — ”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Just grab the register. I’ll take care of this.” And he led her by the arm, his fingers hot against her skin. “Okay,” she said, because she was starting not to trust her judgment.
And then his touch was gone, and he was grabbing a rag and starting at the mess. Ella looked down at the buttons, and they were the same buttons that had rung her up that first time, that she — and Astrid — had pressed about a million times since, but it was hard to focus on anything now. Just like in the dream. She felt the room starting to spin.
“Can I help you?” she asked, but as she did she grasped the counter with both hands and she leaned into it, and her head felt so light — maybe from the lack of sleep or from the heat — and she heard herself stammer, “I need to sit down,” and she didn’t want to fall because she knew that the dream would be right there, waiting for her, as soon as she closed her eyes.
But she felt Jake’s arms behind her, and she knew it was no use.
• • •
The first thing she saw was Jake, blurry, with two big brown spots where his eyes stared down at her. “She’s awake,” he said, but it sounded like he was talking through a tunnel. She blinked her eyes, and Jake came into focus, and then there was Claire’s prim and proper face, looking at her, too.
She felt hands behind her shoulders, and she was being lifted up. She was sitting on a bench in the back office of the café. Claire pushed a glass of water at her.
She took it.
“What happened?” Claire asked. Everything still sounded kind of tunnel-y.
“You were just standing at the register, and then you fell,” Jake said, and she remembered, and she felt the whole night full of dreams, and then there was Astrid, peeking at her, from the back corners of her mind.
“How do you feel?” Claire asked.
“Alright,” Ella said.
“You should go home. Becky’s here now, and Jake can drive you.”
• • •
It was the second time in two days she left Trail Mix early.
“Have you ever fainted before?” Jake asked as they pulled out of the lot.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. The music in the car was soft and melodic — meandering. She’d expected something different, more like the stuff Ben listened to. Old classic rock or new hip-hop or country. Like most guys she knew listened to. This actually sounded like something Sydney would have liked.
“Huh,” he said, drumming his hand against the wheel. “You just like wiped out in there.”
“I’m aware,” she said, scooting herself down further in the seat. Her head still felt a little woozy.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m just worried about you.”
“You keep saying that,” she said. She tried to laugh but it didn’t come out right. “You barely know me.”
Jake turned the music down. “Well I haven’t known you that long,” he said. “But under intimate circumstances, to say the least.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I guess.”
In moments they were at her house. Jake pulled into the drive.
“You want me to come inside for a bit?”
He looked so warm and open, and he was right, they did know each other in the most unusual, intimate, horrible of ways. She almost wanted to say yes. He could prevent her from going to sleep and going back into the cabin for the hundredth time.
But her mom must have heard the car. She was already running out the door and up to the window. “My God, baby, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said. She opened the door and stepped out slowly. Her mom’s arm was instantly around her, leading her to the house. Behind her, she heard Jake’s car start. She turned to say thank you, but he was already backing up and pulling away.
• • •
Her mom had ordered bed rest, but she couldn’t bear the thought of sleep. So she opened her computer, went to Astrid’s page, checked her post for the millionth time. Nothing.
Even lying down she felt dizzy, from the heat or the dream she couldn’t tell.
I miss you, too.
She wouldn’t post again — it was too public. Too desperate. She hadn’t told anyone what she’d seen, and she didn’t want to until she had something more — something to show.
So she clicked on the message button on the top of the screen.
The little box was there in an instant, beckoning her.
Hi. I’m here.
It was silly — childish — crazy to think that Astrid would, that Astrid could.
Ella stopped. She could hit cancel now, forget about the rest of it. She could party
with Sydney and make out with Ben and cry and grieve and just try to move on.
But she didn’t want to.
So she held her finger over the button, took a deep breath, and clicked send before she could lose her nerve.
CHAPTER SIX
When Sydney woke up the next morning, she could smell the strong aroma of veggie bacon coming from downstairs. She wiped her hands across her eyes and stretched. She hadn’t slept well. She hadn’t been sleeping well. There’d been no dreams, at least none that she could remember. But she’d tossed, waking up what felt like every few minutes.
Now she was fully awake. She was tired. And everything was inescapable. She wanted to go back to sleep and forget about things, but even sleep seemed like work.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Ella. She’d fainted at Trail Mix. Ben had called to tell her as much, but she still hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to her.
She was upset about Max. They were on a whole other plane of messy.
She was worried about next year. Would things actually happen with River Deep, or should she just suck it up at a community college and try to transfer after one semester?
But the worst thing was the one that was ever-present now. The fact that Astrid was gone. The fact that maybe, just maybe, she could have done something to help her. That was the one that hit her every time she woke up.
Sydney ran her hands through her hair and threw a bra on under her tank top. She was required, of course, to make an appearance downstairs. Happy family time! Let’s all eat breakfast together like on TV! We’ll make it organic so we can not only save the environment but offset our inherent white guilt! Composting!
She hobbled down the stairs and was met immediately by the piercing giggles of Darcy, and the uber-long ponytail of George, her stepfather.
“Morning, sunshine,” her mother said, leaning over to kiss her cheek, as Sydney grabbed a plate. “Sleep well?” she asked.
“Not really,” she said. Her mom just turned back to Darcy, pouring her more orange juice.
