CHAPTER ONE
CHARLIE
I wake up in a pool of sweat thanks to that last day’s memory living rent free in my brain. Apparently, my subconscious doesn't want me to forget that Yuri won't be here to see me graduate, again. Classes ended a week ago and I passed all my finals, so now I finally get to walk across that stage and fulfill my dream of becoming an investigative journalist.
I’ve been working at the campus library to help pay for college. I worked late last night and then someone called in sick today. I guess there was no one else to cover, so at noon, I walked my overly-tired, half-dead self back to the library. I didn’t get back to my dorm until five p.m. I had a quick snack and then decided to take a nap before going to graduation practice.
Rubbing my eyes, I think about graduation. It’s exciting, but it’s also just another important moment that he won’t get to be here with me for. I looked him up last night on social media and the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System, the works, hoping I would see his face. I just want to know that he is safe and alive somewhere.
Since starting my job at the library, I have also been searching public records. No such luck, just like every other time I have searched for him. I just wish he was here! I wish he could see everything I have been able to accomplish. Knowing we would have accomplished so much together is what hurts the most; he’s not here and finding him is just a pipe dream at this point.
I know my parents are acting overly excited in an effort to keep me from remembering his absence, but I don't think anything will make me forget him.
After almost breaking my jaw with a yawn, I get out of bed to get ready for the very important , very useless, commencement practice.
I was lucky enough to get a single room during my last semester. It has been super helpful as a journalism major; late-night papers and roommates who like to party don't mix. Well, I guess it’s me and roommates that don’t mix.
Ever since losing Yuri, it has been hard for me to build deep, close friendships. I keep it surface level; it’s safer for me and anyone involved that way. My therapist says it's a coping mechanism and it works for me. Plus, right now I don’t really feel like unpacking ten years worth of abandonment issues just so I can have another bestie . I had, no I have a best friend, out in the world somewhere.
I check my phone to see what time it is and curse. I’m already late thanks to my long nap and my wandering mind. Coffee is a must if I’m going to stay awake during this stupid practice, normally I would go for a nice black earl grey with lemon and honey, but being this tired calls for the big guns.
As soon as I leave my dorm building, I make my way to the café around the corner before picking up Dominic. I buy two of the largest coffees on their menu and walk toward Dom’s dorm, texting him so he knows I’m on my way.
Charlotte: “Hey Dom! Meet me out front in 5. We’re going to be late!”
I really don’t understand why we need to practice walking in a straight line for tomorrow's official commencement ceremony. It’s not like we haven't all attended a graduation ceremony before. That may be my sleep deprived brain speaking, but it’s true. They’re lining us up alphabetically by last name and telling us when to show up and when we can leave. I mean we are college grads. If we can't get this together, we shouldn’t have a college degree.
Walking through campus with the caffeine finally kicking in, I round the corner and see Dominic’s building just as he is walking down the steps. I meet up with him and hand him one of the coffees.
“Are you excited to finally learn how to walk?” I joke as I shoulder bump him. Dominic and I met in my freshman year. He was an RA on the second floor of my dorm. We found out we had a lot of classes together, and the rest is history. He puts up with my horrible humor and I put up with his high maintenance personality. For whatever reason it works, and he doesn’t push for anything more than I can give him which is an added bonus. He laughs deeply and wraps an arm around me.
“Oh, you're one to talk, C.C.!” He exclaims, going to ruffle my hair, but I’m faster and duck before he has a chance to mess up my already frizzy curls. We laugh as we walk and talk about what we will be doing after graduation. He is off to travel Europe for the summer, the lucky jerk, while I move into my very lonely, one-bedroom apartment downtown.
“I still can’t believe you are going to visit your family in Italy this summer. I am so jealous!” I sigh. I would love to have the money to travel and see the world, but priorities.
“It’s just so I can learn some things about the family business. I will be in Chicago working just like you before you know it.”
I roll my eyes knowing full well there is no way he will have time to see me, let alone actually hang out with me once he moves. He has a great job lined up with his family's business. He’ll be going to fancy society parties and hanging out with fancy people while I’m writing boring articles about fashion week or the latest diet trend and watching old movies to pass the time.
Stop being so jealous Charlotte. You’re going to be a world-renowned journalist, eventually. I chastise myself for my intrusive thoughts as Dominic and I continue our walk to commencement rehearsal.
“It should be against the law to have to endure a two-hour-long, stuffy graduation practice past the age of eighteen.” I joke as we walk through the North Entrance of the Lincoln Arena and are assaulted by the humidity and cacophony of voices.
We’ve arrived right on time and the organizer is corralling everyone to their seats. I quickly put my hair in a messy bun to stave off the heat as she drones on and on about which row starts, how to walk, and when to stop to take a picture. I cannot focus on anything she is saying because my mind keeps circling back to Yuri. Where is he? I know I'm obsessed, but I cannot stop thinking about what happened. It’s been years but people don’t just disappear from one night to the next. We might have been young, but he would have said goodbye to me before he left. He would have warned me. He wouldn’t have abandoned me. But he did, and I still don’t know why.
I’m thrust back into the present when a random girl next to me nudges my arm. It’s our row’s turn to walk up and practice. I go through the motions for the rest of the practice, my mind in a haze.
Two hours later, two hours that neither of us will ever get back, Dominic and I both head to our dorms. His are closer to the Lincoln Arena than mine, but it’s only a twenty-minute walk. I don’t know why they had to schedule practice so late in the day. It’s now well past dusk.
Dominic and I part ways and he gives me a wave, “See you later C.C.! Remember not to trip tomorrow!” He teases.
“Thanks for that douchebag! See you later!” Laughing, I head back to my dorm room and put my earbuds in to distract my overactive imagination.
After walking about a block, I swear I feel someone watching me, so I do a quick scan but no one is there. I honestly feel crazy sometimes.
Calm down Charlie. No one is following you. No one is watching you.
I take a deep breath and continue my walk. I told my therapist about my paranoia, but she just says I’m projecting … whatever that means. One hour of talking to a random woman, one-hundred and twenty dollars later, and I still felt like I am losing my mind most days.
Listening to music and writing in my journal have always helped me make it through the day, so it made sense to go into journalism for school. What other job can I do something I enjoy to keep my brain focused on more than just my missing friend? Journalism + Charlotte. It’s a match made in heaven.
I was lucky enough to land a paid internship at the Chicago Times right out of school. I’ll be writing puff pieces and helping a few lead reporters with their research, but it’s something at least. The fact that I get to work at a newspaper - let alone the Times - right after graduation is unheard of! I plan to take any opportunity I can to prove myself as a writer. I want to move up so I can write about what is important to me.
I had this amazing English teacher in high school who told me about a reporter who traveled all over the world investigating and writing stories about missing women and kids. The reporter then ended up helping the police find many of the people who had been kidnapped and sold. As soon as I heard that, I knew that that was what I wanted to do. No one should have to spend their entire life wondering what happened to someone they love. I would know.
Yuri disappeared when I was twelve and just about to celebrate my thirteenth birthday. He was… is… he is one year older than me, but he didn’t let that come between us being friends. Some of his guy friends, as we got a little older, would make fun of him for hanging out with me, but he put them in their place right quick. His family was very nice to me every time I went to his house. He would have to translate for me because his dad and mom were from Russia and mostly spoke Russian, but he and his brothers were born in the US.
They moved to the suburbs when I was in kindergarten and we quickly became inseparable. Every time I spent time at his house, his mom would give me a big hug the moment I arrived. The last time I saw Yuri’s mom was the morning of our bike race.
“Have fun Solnyshko!” She said as we sprinted out the front door.
I always loved that she called me sunshine! They treated me like a daughter. There is no way they would just leave without telling me.
To this day, I have no clue what happened to him or his family. My mom and dad wouldn’t tell me anything, not that I think they knew what happened. They just kept saying I was too young . I guess they figured I would forget about him as I grew up and move on, but I wasn't going to let it go.
The fact that I still dream of that last day is totally nuts. We were kids then, and memories are fickle, but those memories keep creeping back in more and more these days. I miss him. He was my best friend; I loved him, not that he knew that, and I am going to find him! Even if finding him breaks my heart. He would do it for me, at least that is what I tell myself.
In all likelihood, if he is still alive, he probably doesn't even remember me. I mean who remembers the little girl down the street. I remember him though. Our childhood friendship shifted for me the summer he disappeared and I can’t help but feel it changed for him too. The lingering hugs and the way he looked at me? Friends don’t look at friends like they own their heart, but that, that is how he looked at me. He protected me and…I know I seem crazy still stuck on a boy from grade school but until I know he is safe and alive living his best life somewhere nothing will stop me from searching. I have to believe he’s alive. It’s fuel for me to keep going and focus on finding him. Once I graduate on Friday, I am moving to Chicago and I’m going to find out what happened to Yuri Volkov!