A Void the Size of the World

by Rachele Alpine

  “I was walking out of Calloos Pizzeria with my order and there she was,” Jeannine Wilson said. “I spotted her across the street, bent over tying her shoe. I figured it was one of the high school girls, but when she stood, it was Abby. I yelled to her, but she moved too fast. I would’ve chased after her, but I had boxes of pizza in my hands.”

  “She was outside my bathroom window,” Mr. Miller said. “I got out of the shower and glanced outside. She was cutting through my backyard. She climbed right over the chain-link fence, dropped down on the other side, and slipped through some bushes.” He shook his head, as if he’d done something wrong. “I have no idea what she was doing there.”

  More people gathered in the field to try to catch a glimpse of my sister. Abby became some kind of urban legend. She was like the little girl in the story who appeared on the side of the road asking for a ride. When the man in the truck returned her to the house where she told him she lived, her parents said that she died over a year ago, and sure enough, she’d vanished from the front seat.

  Abby sightings were the stories people told each other, like the ones we used to whisper around campfires or under blankets during sleepovers, the thrill of anticipation and fear running through us. But while people hung on to the idea that they really were seeing my sister as a ghost, I felt like she was moving further and further away. As everyone was looking for a ghost of Abby, I was terrified they were forgetting to find the real version of her.

  57

  Homecoming snuck up and tackled me before I could escape. I considered hiding when Tessa pulled into the driveway, but she’d track me down and drag me out like some Neanderthal caveman if she needed to.

  I smoothed my sweaty hands on my dress. Correction, Abby’s dress. It had hung in her closet forgotten after she went missing, the plastic bag around it and the price tag dangling from the back zipper. It had waited for her on a satin hanger that she had talked Mom into buying. The dress was pale yellow, like the glow under your chin when you hold a dandelion to it. It was strapless and dipped low in the front, different from anything I’d ever wear.

  I tried it on last night because it was my only option. I didn’t own anything nice enough for the dance, and I wasn’t about to ask Mom to take me to the mall to get something to wear. The idea of Mom functioning anywhere beyond our house these days was a joke, so I didn’t really have a choice but to wear it.

  I’d waited until Collin was glued to some TV show, Dad was at work, and Mom was out in the field.

  I’d slipped it on, jammed my feet into her shoes, and pretended for just a moment that I’d stepped into Abby’s life.

  I pushed that thought aside. Wasn’t it this type of pretending that had ruined everything?

  I’d practically ripped the dress off and hung it back up in the closet among Abby’s other dresses, shirts, and pants that waited for her to come back and wear them again.

  But with only thirty minutes until Tessa picked me up and no other options, that dress was going to have to work. I put it on in the downstairs bathroom so no one would see that I borrowed it.

  I stood in front of the mirror, and felt like an impostor once again. Who did I think I was? What right did I have to wear my sister’s dress to a dance she could no longer go to? And how was this any different than thinking it was okay to kiss her boyfriend? You don’t just take things that don’t belong to you, but that was exactly what I’d done and what I was about to do again. I reached back to unzip the dress. I needed to take it off. This wasn’t right. Not the dress or going to the dance. But before I could, a horn blared from outside.

  Tessa was here.

  I ran barefoot to the car, out of my house before my parents found me in Abby’s dress. I’d written a note earlier that I placed on the kitchen table for them to find when I was gone.

  Abby’s dress skimmed the ground and stirred up a fog of dust around the bottom. I was shorter than her and the dress wasn’t quite the same on me.

  Nothing was quite the same.

  Tessa rolled down the window and whistled as I ran to the car. “Looking good, girl.”

  I put my finger to my lips and hoped she’d get the hint.

  “Let’s go,” I said as I stepped into the car.

  “What’s the hurry? You’re acting as if you robbed a bank.”

  “More like my sister’s closet,” I said. “This is her dress.”

  Tessa turned to me, and I waited for her to tell me I was crazy. Because really, who wears their missing sister’s dress to a dance? The dress her sister didn’t get to wear.

  But Tessa didn’t.

  “It looks great on you,” she said.

  Her words made me feel even worse. I shouldn’t look good in Abby’s dress.

  “There’s only one problem,” she said and reached over toward my armpit. She grabbed a tag that I hadn’t even noticed and pulled it off in one quick yank. “There, you’re ready.”

  I didn’t like the finality of pulling off the tag. Of wearing something for the first time that didn’t belong to me.

  “Right now,” I said as I buckled my seat belt, “I’d be happy to be just about anywhere other than this dance.”

  “Come on, Rhylee, tonight is going to be fun. Wait and see. You’ll have a good time.”

  I wasn’t sure that I wanted to. If I deserved to. I’d stolen Abby’s boyfriend, her dress; could I steal her good time, too? What else would I take from her?

  Tessa drove to Jarrett’s house and honked the horn two times. When the lights above the front door flashed, she laid her hand on the horn and continued to announce her arrival.

  “Uh, I think he knows you’re here,” I said.

  “That’s obvious, but Jarrett is worse than a girl. He’ll take another ten minutes to get ready,” Tessa complained. “If I keep beeping, he’ll hurry so his mom doesn’t get pissed.”

  I fluffed the fabric of my dress around me. It was as if I was sitting on a cloud, the skirt floating.

  Jarrett came outside, his suit jacket flapping behind him half on and half off, and instead of opening the back door, he threw open the passenger side door. I held up my hand.

  “Sorry, this seat is taken.”

  “No worries, I’ll fit. I’d rather be here with you ladies.” He slid in, the bones of his hips poking me as he pushed me against Tessa. “Nothing wrong with getting close to each other.”

  He laid the top half of his body against me in order to kiss Tessa. I grabbed a handful of the yellow dress fabric and yanked it out from under him. He positioned himself so he wasn’t quite squashing me and ran his hands through his spiky black hair. I couldn’t help but laugh at the baby blue suit he had put on with black and white two-tone shoes. As obnoxious as he was, Jarrett and Tessa were made for each other.

  The ride went by way too fast. Before I knew it, we were at the high school.

  “I don’t know if I can do this,” I told them when Tessa parked the car in the overflow lot by the football field. I played with the white sparkly bracelet I’d found in Abby’s jewelry box. What was I thinking, agreeing to go to a dance that my sister couldn’t go to in a dress she might never wear?

  “Tough. I didn’t want to shave my legs, but I did so I wouldn’t hear Jarrett bitch about it later. We all have to do things we don’t want to do.”

  “She’s right,” Jarrett said. “I like a woman with smooth legs.” He reached over me again and tried to run his hand up Tessa’s leg.

  I stretched my body to the right and opened the passenger side door. Jarrett fell out.

  “Hey, watch the merchandise,” he joked before he walked over to talk to a group of guys standing around a truck.

  “Tessa, really. I can’t do this,” I repeated. “I shouldn’t be here. This was supposed to be Abby’s dance.”

  What made me think it was okay to do this? I didn’t go to dances or wear fancy dresses and makeup. Abby was the one who loved that kind of thing.

  “Please, just take me home,” I said, my words
getting caught in my throat as I fought back tears.

  “You can have a little fun,” Tessa said and pointed at Abby’s shoes on the floor of the car. “Put those on and let’s give it a shot. If you’re uncomfortable, we’ll leave. I promise.”

  In the distance, people headed into the school. Couples held hands and groups of my classmates walked, laughed, and joked with one another. Three faint red dots glowed and then dimmed by the corner of the parking lot; the last cigarettes snuck before entering the gym.

  I turned one of the shoes over, the bottoms black and scuffed, which was odd; I’d thought they were new shoes bought with the dress. I ran my fingers over the scratched soles and wondered when Abby had worn them. I slipped them on and before I could resist, Tessa grabbed my hand and yanked me out of the car and into the dance.

  “Let’s do this,” she said, and reluctantly, I followed.

  58

  The dance theme was fire and ice. Lights shone down in a blue haze and cast a gray hue on everyone’s faces, making them look like zombies. The corners had red strobe lights that flashed into the air, on and off.

  The football team won last night, so everyone was in a good mood. The players strutted around and a good-size crowd of people jumped to the music on the dance floor. I could picture Abby among them. She had this way of dancing with giant movements that seemed to take over the space. She’d be right there in the middle of it with a huge smile on her face, not caring what anyone thought of her at all. I turned away from the dance floor, missing her.

  Jarrett wandered over to the food table, where cookies in the shape of snowflakes and suns sat, and stuffed his face. Tessa grabbed my hand and tried to get me to the dance floor. I shook my head. I was here; she needed to be happy with that.

  I found a table along one of the walls and planted myself in a chair, glad to be off my feet. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d worn heels. Tessa stayed near me, but moved to the music by herself. I rolled my eyes when a particularly fast song came on and she shook her head all around, her hair flashing in the lights so that it looked as if she was a part of the fire theme.

  We stayed like that for a while, me sitting and Tessa rocking out until Jarrett came back and Tessa gave up dancing to make out with him. So much for sticking by me at the dance.

  I wandered away from the spit fest that was now occurring and slipped through the crowd, not wanting to watch the two of them sucking face. I stood on the edge of the dance floor while everyone moved with the music. My classmates were dressed as fancy versions of themselves.

  Someone grabbed my hand and yanked me into the crowd. It was one of Abby’s teammates. She pulled me into the group she was dancing with. I slid through bodies slick with sweat that moved against me, threatening to swallow me up. I fell into the dark pulsating core. Those around me moved to the music, not caring who they bumped into, so I did the same. I danced with everyone the way Abby would have. I threw my arms up and moved with the crowd. I closed my eyes and the strobe lights darkened and brightened against my eyelids. The bass pumped deep into my chest so I wasn’t sure if my heart was beating or if it was the music that kept me alive.

  I allowed myself to be swept up in the group until a hand grabbed mine and pulled me out.

  The person pulled me through the crowd, and it wasn’t until we broke through that I saw it was Tommy.

  My history teacher, Mr. Scott, stood guard near the door that led outside. His cell phone screen lit his face and he repeated the rules that he must have said a million times tonight without looking up. “No touching, no yelling, no running around, or you’ll go back inside.”

  I couldn’t make a scene. I couldn’t do that to Tommy, so I let him pull me through.

  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his black pants and looked at the ground. He wore a white dress shirt with the navy-blue tie he wore when he played the piano at weddings. His hair was slicked back and his sneakers were still in their perpetual state of being untied.

  “Tessa told me you were coming tonight,” he said. “I thought maybe we could talk. Maybe we—”

  He was about to say more but paused as he noticed my dress. He reached out and touched a section of it. The fabric slipped through his fingers.

  “Abby was supposed to wear this,” he said. “She showed it to me after she bought it because she was so excited.”

  I was uncomfortable. Self-conscious. How could I explain to him why I was wearing Abby’s dress? Why I’d tried it on?

  “And you had her tennis shoes that day you were running,” Tommy said. His voice was heavy with sadness.

  We stood against the brick wall, our faces hidden in the shadows. Inside, the music pulsed so deep that you could feel the beat in the ground, thumping through you. Red lights lit one corner of the courtyard. He took a step toward me, so I took a step back, the bottom of my dress swishing against my legs.

  “At first I didn’t know it was you,” Tommy said. “On the dance floor, before. Maybe it was the lights or the music, but I thought . . .” He trailed off as if looking for the right words. Someone far off in the grass laughed. There was a flash of light, a match struck before a hand concealed it. “I thought you were Abby.”

  I touched the satin, cool in my sweaty hands. “I’ll never be Abby.”

  But wasn’t that what I was doing? Dressing like my sister? Going to the dance she was supposed to go to? I focused on my sister’s shoes; clumps of dirt stuck to the heels. I had stepped into her life again, just like I had when I tried to make Tommy mine. I had taken so much away from Abby, and here I was doing it again.

  “Why would you think I want you to be her?” Tommy asked, but wasn’t the answer obvious? Abby had had Tommy.

  “Everyone wants Abby,” I told him.

  Tommy ran his hand through his hair and paced back and forth, frustrated.

  “I don’t,” he said, and my heart ached for what could never happen between us.

  A large group of kids came out, laughing and pushing each other. The door stayed open, held by a boy who couldn’t decide if he was going in or out. I knew that feeling. What it felt like to stand in between, not fitting on either side.

  The outside door swung open again, and Tessa stepped out. She scanned the yard and stopped when she found me. She looked from me to Tommy, turned around, and headed back inside. She was giving me the chance to be with him, but she had it all wrong. I couldn’t be with him.

  I stepped away from Tommy and slipped through the doors before he could stop me.

  59

  I hid out in the bathroom for about half an hour, and when I came out, Tessa was back at the table with Jarrett, trying to get him to slow dance.

  “I need to leave,” I told the two of them. “Can we go?”

  “What about Tommy?” Tessa asked. “I saw the two of you together.”

  “There is no Tommy,” I said in a voice that made it very clear I wasn’t going to talk about him.

  “Yeah, sure, okay, let’s go,” Tessa said as she stood up. “We’re ready, right?”

  Jarrett nodded and followed the two of us out of the dance. I walked fast. I wanted to get out of there before Tommy found me again. I needed to stay away from him.

  On the ride home, Tessa didn’t mention anything about seeing us outside, and I wasn’t about to volunteer any information. Instead, I turned the radio up loud enough to drown out any conversation we might have wanted to have.

  When we got to my house, Tessa stepped out of the car and hugged me.

  “I’m glad you came tonight,” she said. “You know you can call me if you want to talk.”

  “Thanks for the ride,” I said, not revealing anything else. I waved to Jarrett before heading inside.

  I didn’t see the Miracle Seekers at first. The group usually stayed in the field, so when one of them stepped out on our front walk, I jumped in surprise.

  She stood in front of me in a sweater that went to her knees, her arms crossed.

  “Sorr
y,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here.” I reached into my purse for the house key. Since people now camped out in our fields, my parents had decided to keep the doors locked.

  She took a step toward me and her sweater fell open. She wore a shirt with Abby’s picture. Someone had taken an old photo from the sports section of our paper of her grinning and holding a medal and made piles of shirts for those searching for her. I didn’t have to see the back of the shirt to know that the words “Homeward Bound” were written in bold purple letters.

  “It must be nice to be able to go out and have fun when your sister isn’t able to,” she said.

  “Excuse me?” I asked, stunned. I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly. Usually the Miracle Seekers talked to my family with faces of concern and sadness, but this lady was looking at me with anger. I took a few steps closer to my door, now clutching the key I was holding tight in my fist in case I needed to use it. She made me nervous.

  She moved forward so that she was right in front of me and blocked my path.

  “You dressing up and having fun with your friends,” she said, “when Abby can’t. I sure wouldn’t do something like that.”

  I stared at this woman, this stranger who knew nothing about my family beyond what she saw on the news or heard through gossip. This woman who had taken over my yard with her foolish optimism and acted as if my life was her business. I thought about the dance and how fun had nothing to do with it, but here she was judging me, as if I didn’t already feel incredibly guilty for going.

  “Screw you,” I spat out with an anger I’d buried deep inside. I pushed her out of my way. She stumbled and threw her arms out, trying to gain her balance.

  I didn’t wait to see if she righted herself or fell. I jammed my key into the door and locked it behind me.

  I went straight to Abby’s room, kicked off her shoes, climbed onto the bed, and crawled under the sheets. I didn’t even bother to take off her dress. I sobbed into her pillow until my eyes were swollen and aching.