Bared Souls

by Ellie Wade

  He pulls off the wrapping paper and opens the top of the box, revealing blue-and-yellow crocheted squares.

  “They’re pot holders! In Michigan’s colors. I learned to crochet!” I grin wide.

  “I love them.” He holds up one of the squares. “And when I am out of the dorms and have pots … I will definitely use them. Or … I could use them like coasters or something.”

  “Okay, well, as I said … those were my practice. So, open the next one.”

  He opens the next box and pulls out the scarf I made him.

  “I looked up a pattern and everything. I tried to copy a scarf that’s for sale at the Gap, so you’d actually wear it, you know? If you don’t like it and don’t want to wear it, I’ll totally understand. But I had fun, making it.”

  “You did a great job, Mutt. Truly, I love it, and I’ll absolutely wear it.”

  “Aw, yay!” I bounce on the bed. “I’m so glad.”

  “Your turn.” He hands me the gift bag.

  I pull out a book—or more accurately, a journal, daily devotional, and planner, all in one. Amos drew out monthly calendars for the year to come along with places for my to-do lists, quotes, and thoughts. He doodled designs on each page. I’ve always thought he’s so talented with his art, but he rarely uses his drawing skills because art has never been valued in his home.

  Tears fill my eyes as I turn the pages. Each page is better than the next. He hid little gems throughout—from memories to our favorite quotes to little drawings.

  “This is incredible.” I’m in awe. “It’s almost too beautiful to use. This is so thoughtful, and your pictures … I just love them so much. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. You’ll use it, right? Don’t just put it in that shoebox of yours. It’s meant to be used.”

  “I don’t want to ruin it.”

  “Alma,” he drawls out my name.

  “Fine, I’ll use it. Cross my heart.” I continue flipping the pages. “I’m going to mess it all up with my daily scribbles.”

  “Good. That’s the idea.” He smiles warmly. “You want to stream a movie or something?”

  “No.” I frown. “I’m sorry. I have to get back. Today wasn’t a good day.”

  “What happened?”

  “I’m not entirely sure. You know how Leo has some unspoken issues with his family. Well, we went there for dinner, and his sister-in-law was showing me around. The next thing I know, there was a glass smashed, and Leo and I were speeding out of the driveway. He won’t open up about anything pertaining to his family. I’m not sure how to help him, but he was pretty bummed when I left tonight.”

  “I’m sorry. I understand,” Amos says.

  He divides his Christmas candy into two piles and tosses half of it in my gift bag. The gesture warms my heart.

  “I would invite you over, but it’s not a good time.”

  “I’m fine, Alma.” He places his hand on my knee. “Plus, with Quinn gone for a couple of weeks, I can get caught up on my reading.”

  “Your reading?” I raise a brow with a smirk.

  “I mean … have I read every book in the world? No.” He chuckles and gathers his crocheted gifts in his arms. “I can drop you off.”

  “Thanks.” I leave my journal on my bed but make sure to grab the bag of candy before heading out. “Speaking of books, you should’ve seen Leo’s parents’ library.”

  “Incredible?”

  “Oh, yeah. We’re talking Beauty and the Beast amazing.”

  “Really?” His curiosity is piqued. “Disney quality?”

  I nod, my eyes wide. “Yes, and … they don’t even use it!”

  We exit the building and walk toward Amos’s car.

  “That’s a shame.”

  “I know, right?”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Alma

  I pull a long breath of the cool night air into my lungs, the crispness refreshing. Turning the door handle, I step inside.

  “I’m back,” I say into the foyer and kick off my boots.

  A handful of gifts sits beneath the Christmas tree, the reflection of the lights bouncing off the shiny paper. I completely forgot that Leo and I still have gifts to exchange. A large smile finds my lips.

  “Leo,” I call out.

  I do a quick scan of the main level before heading up the stairs. When I reach the top and look for him, I find he’s not in his bedroom or bathroom.

  “Leo!” I search through all of the spare rooms and come up empty.

  Maybe he ran out to grab some food.

  I shoot him a quick text.

  Hey, babe. I’m back. Where are you? xo

  I return to my reindeer jammies and snuggle under a blanket on the sofa while flipping through the DVR. There are a few holiday shows and cartoons that we’ve yet to watch. I turn on one of the old original holiday cartoons. Leo said that he’s not a fan, as the Claymation characters freak him out, so I know he won’t mind if I watch it without him.

  When I don’t hear back from Leo, I call his cell phone, and I’m sent straight to voice mail. I’ve been back for an hour now, and there’s been no word from him. I’m starting to get worried. His Porsche is missing from the garage, so wherever he went, he drove. Given the snowy state of the roads and the fact that a sports car doesn’t have the best traction on slick pavement, it adds another level of worry.

  “Where are you, Leo?” I grumble and click off the TV.

  Leo was right; those Claymation cartoons are just creepy.

  I text Leo several more times and send a few texts to Ethan as well. I don’t know what else to do.

  Around midnight, Ethan calls me back.

  “Hey! Do you know where he is?” I screech into the phone.

  “No. I haven’t heard from him today. When’s the last time you saw him?” Ethan asks.

  I tell Ethan about me leaving for an hour to meet up with Amos and coming back to him gone.

  “So, you both went to his parents’ today?”

  “Yeah, earlier.”

  “How’d that go?” he asks with a tone indicating that he already knows.

  I tell him everything.

  There’s a sigh on the other end of the line. “Alma, he’s fine. He’ll be back at some point.”

  “What do you mean, at some point? Where is he? You don’t think he’s in danger? I shouldn’t call the cops?”

  There’s silence on the other end of the line, save for Ethan’s quiet breaths. I’m under the impression that he’s keeping something from me.

  “What is it? Please tell me, Ethan. I’m literally freaking out with worry,” I plead.

  Ethan sighs. “Alma … it’s not really my place. All I’ll say is that, he does this, and he’ll be back.”

  “He does this?” I snap. “What does that mean?”

  “His dad has a way of setting him off and getting under his skin. Leo has been known to take off for a few days after a confrontation. Their relationship is toxic, and Leo doesn’t always … handle it the best. I wouldn’t worry. He’ll be back. He just has to cool off.”

  “He just left without telling me. Where would he go? What is he doing? This doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I’m sorry. Leo’s life is complicated.”

  “Yeah, I get that, Ethan, but how am I not supposed to worry about him? And why would he just leave without a word or a note or anything?”

  “I’m really sorry, Alma. I’ll come back to school tomorrow and look for him, okay? Just try not to worry and get some sleep.”

  “Okay,” I say, resigned. “Call me tomorrow.”

  “Will do. Night, Alma.”

  “Night, Ethan.”

  The line goes dead, and I stare at the cell phone in my hand, processing everything Ethan said. Not only was he not surprised, but he also wasn’t even worried, and that part unsettles me the most. I know that Ethan’s loyalties lie with Leo, but there’s something he’s not telling me.

  Tears flow freely, cascading down my cheeks as my hear
t rips open. This entire situation is disturbing, and with every beat deep within my chest, my doubt whispers that nothing is going to be the same again.

  Ethan comes back from his parents’ house the day after Christmas and looks for Leo “in all his usual spots,” whatever that means. He doesn’t find him but assures me that Leo’s fine and he will come back when he’s ready.

  Now, I’m just furious. I get that there’s a lot of stuff going on within Leo’s mind that he’s not sharing with me, but to just disappear like this is so selfish. He has to know that I’m worried sick about him. I would never put him through this torment. He has to have seen my texts and listened to my voice mails. I just don’t understand.

  On December 27, two days after I last saw Leo, I break down and call Amos in tears. If I’m being honest, I didn’t want Amos to know. I wanted Leo to return with a good explanation and for everything to be okay. Admitting what’s been going on the past two days makes it real, and I’m afraid it’s not something Leo and I can come back from. I love Leo more than I ever knew was possible, but I have to love myself and know my worth.

  I exit the dorm, stepping into the chilly air as Amos walks up the shoveled, salted sidewalk. He opens his arms, and I fall into them. I cry into his puffy down jacket, and he holds me close.

  “You should’ve called earlier, Mutt.” He kisses the top of my head.

  “I know. I’m just embarrassed. This is all so stupid. Who does this, Amos?” My tearstained face looks up to my best friend, and I can see the pity in his expression. The pity in his eyes is why I avoided calling him in the first place.

  “Try not to think about it. Your imagination could be making it worse than it is. Maybe there’s an explanation that will make sense.” Even as he says it, neither of us believes his words. “Let’s go eat. What do you feel like?”

  “Pasta,” I say. I need something good and heavy and carb-filled to hold me down as pieces of my heart feel like they’re breaking off and floating away.

  “Perfect. I drove past an Italian restaurant on the way here. It looks locally owned, so I bet it’s good.”

  “Okay,” I agree and follow Amos to his car. “What have you been up to the past couple of days? No roommate. No Quinn.”

  Amos starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot. “It’s been nice. It’s kind of cool to be on campus when most everyone is home.”

  I nod. It wasn’t long ago that I was thinking the same thing.

  “I actually watched this documentary online that was originally filmed for PBS.” Amos launches into the details of what he learned, and I rest my head against the glass of the car window, listening—or trying to.

  Then, I see it.

  “Stop!” I yell and sit up, looking toward the house we just passed. “That’s his car! That’s Leo’s Porsche!”

  Amos turns in the next side street and pulls over. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. That’s Leo’s car. I know it is. The paint job is custom.” I strain my neck to look down the road toward the house. “We have to go there and check.”

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” Amos shakes his head.

  “Please. I have to know.”

  Amos blows out a breath. “Okay.”

  He completes a U-turn and heads back in the other direction before pulling into the driveway next to Leo’s car. The house is a small brick ranch. It’s an older house, the wear and tear on it evident. The person who lives here hasn’t kept up on its maintenance. A gutter has broken away from the roof and swings in front of the small bay window. The bottom of the front screen door appears to have been chewed off by an animal, a large dog presumably. The place gives me the creeps, but I step out of the car anyway.

  “Alma”—Amos hesitates beside the car—“are you sure about this?”

  “Yeah.” My voice comes out steady, more confident than I feel.

  Amos stands beside me as I knock. No one answers, and I knock again. Finally, the door handle turns, and the door is opened a crack.

  I’m hit in the face with an awful stench—dirt, smoke, sweat, and rot—almost knocking me over.

  “What do you want?” a woman with a gruff voice asks.

  “Is Leo here?”

  “Who’s asking?” the woman questions.

  “His girlfriend, Alma. I just have to see him for a minute. Please.”

  She doesn’t respond but opens the door wider and retreats back into the house. I shoot Amos a look, and the two of us step inside. I fight the urge to cover my nose with my shirt and step deeper into the dreary place.

  The first thing I see when we enter the living room is a girl riding a man in the corner on a reclining chair. I gasp at the couple having sex right out in the open. The place is a pit. There are empty beer cans, wrappers, pipes, and drug paraphernalia everywhere. A half-dozen people sit on the dirty plaid couches around the room, clearly drugged out on something.

  I scan the room, trying to take in what I’m seeing, and my chest aches when I see him. He’s sitting on a love seat to my right, wearing the same clothes I last saw him in. His cheeks seem sunken in, and purple bags are prominent under his dead eyes. He stares at me, assessing but lacking emotion. He’s a hollow shell of the man I know. The Leo I love is gone.

  I cover my mouth as bile rises in my throat, and I gag, clenching my stomach. Amos grabs my arm and pulls me out of the house, shutting the house door when we step into the winter air. I fall to my knees, dry-heaving. My stomach is empty, so nothing comes up save for the acidic bile. Tears blur my vision.

  I release a heart-wrenching scream. Amos lifts me from the ground, and I cry against his chest as he leads me to the car. My pain and heartbreak are the only sounds as Amos drives back to the dorm.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Leo

  She was here. Alma, my soul. She was here. Beautiful and brave and gone. I didn’t try to stop her because she should go. She’s always been too pure, too good for someone like me. I was selfish in believing I could keep her.

  I wanted to be better. For her, I did. For the briefest of moments, I thought that maybe I could. Yet I’ve never been brave, and I’ve never been strong. I’ve always been a coward, running.

  The demons pull me down every chance they get, and I let them. I allow it because it’s easier to be lost to oblivion than drowning in pain. It’s easier to check out than fight. I know because I’ve been losing the battle my entire life. I’m exhausted, and I can’t do it anymore.

  She’ll thank me someday. She’ll realize that because I love her, I had to let her go. She won’t see it yet, but she will. The greatest gift I can give her is a life without me.

  THIRTY

  Alma

  I unplugged the lights of the Christmas tree, turned off the lights in the house, left my set of keys on the table, locked the door, and closed it tight. As I walked away with tears in my eyes, I promised myself that I’d never go back there.

  Never.

  I cried in my room for two weeks. Amos brought me food and held me most nights. He’s the only person I’d trust to see me in such a desperate state. He knows my soul in and out, as I know his. He’s all I have in this world—a fact that’s clearer now more than ever.

  How can I trust love when the sentiment is thrown around so easily? Leo claimed to love me, but in the end, he didn’t. I gave him everything, and he left me broken and exposed. I hope I never love again. When I’m in it, it’s magical, but when it leaves, the agony is unbearable. I’d give up the past three months to not know what this pain feels like.

  Classes started up again a month ago, and since then, I’ve gone through the motions. I get up. I go to class. I complete the assignments. I go to the next class. I show up at work. Most of the peers I tutor are probably scared of me, but I get paid whether I smile or not.

  I take a lot of walks in the cold. February is a horrible month, freezing and miserable. Amos and Quinn think they’re doing me a favor by retreating to the bathroom to screw in the
shower, but the shower is just on the other side of the wall from my bed. I can hear everything. So, as soon as they enter the bathroom, I go for a walk.

  I just want to be okay again. I want to stop hating Leo, as I’ve realized that hate is awfully close to love. It’s an intense and all-encompassing emotion. I’d give anything to simply not care. Indifference is the goal, and I pray I get there.

  It’s been an hour since Amos and Quinn got into the shower, and I can no longer feel my toes, so I head back.

  “Where’ve you been?” Quinn asks me as I enter our room.

  “Just walking.”

  “It’s below zero out there. You’re going to freeze.” She pulls a straightening iron through her hair.

  I want to tell her that the numbness from the bitter temperature is a welcome sensation, but I’ve been trying to be less of a downer lately, so I simply say, “I don’t mind the cold.”

  “Well, now, you have to hurry and get ready,” she says.

  “For?”

  “A party.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not going to a party, Quinn.”

  “Please,” she begs. “Amos is going. It’s not at Ethan’s frat house, so there’s no chance you’ll see him. My sorority is throwing it with another frat. It’s going to be so fun. It’s in the basement, and it’s a glow-stick party.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Everyone wears black. It’s going to be completely dark, except for whatever glow sticks you wear. So, if you want to just chill and not draw attention, you can wear a glow bracelet only.” She dangles a package of glow sticks, as if the fact that wearing one would somehow change my mind.

  “No,” I state and plop onto my bed.

  “You really need to start living again, Alma,” she says.

  “No,” I repeat.

  “Fine.” She throws the package of glow bracelets onto the dresser. “Then, we’re not going either. You’re alone too much. We’ll stay here with you.”

  “I like being alone,” I argue.