Chapter 13
I’ve been sitting on this Greyhound bus for over ten hours.
Two, or maybe it’s three hours to go.
Either way, the farther I travel away from Kit, the less he feels real.
It feels as if I imagined him.
But the feelings I have for him confirm that he is very real.
And I am running away from them.
In no universe does this make any sense.
But here I am.
The last time I saw Kit, we showered and both slept in his bed. We sat down at the kitchen counter and ate breakfast together. There was no awkwardness. Just sadness on my part because I knew what was coming.
Kit kissed me goodbye and went downstairs to work.
I cleaned the dishes, tidied up, and packed my things into a plastic bag.
I told Kit the orphanage had called, and I had to go. I left it at that. He didn’t ask any questions because he trusted me. And I repaid his trust by jumping onto a Greyhound bus and leaving.
I rub over my chest. This sinking feeling is getting worse.
Pressing my forehead to the glass, I watch the night pass by, remembering why I’m here. It’s hard to believe that in a couple of hours, I’ll be back in Hollow Banks.
There’s no plan, so I’ve decided to hang back until Jupiter makes contact. I know that she will. The power was taken away from her. And she must take it back.
This game of cat and mouse will hopefully end soon.
And then…that I don’t know.
“Miss, this is your stop.”
I wake to the kind voice of a Good Samaritan, telling me we’ve arrived in hell.
I nod a thank-you to the older man and grab my bag. I have no idea what day or time it is. But the moment I set foot off the bus, memories threaten to drag me under. I measure my breathing and don’t make a scene.
Nothing has changed.
Hollow Banks remains as miserable as I remember it. It’s like I never left.
There’s a nearby motel that rents rooms by the hour, suggesting who its typical clientele is. But it’s exactly what I want. People go there to be forgotten. No one will remember a runaway. I’m a dime a dozen.
I commence my walk along the deserted street. Cars pass by, but I keep my head down, not wishing for anyone to pull over and offer me a ride. I arrive half an hour later.
If possible, the motel is in worse condition than I remember.
I approach the small, glassed office window. There isn’t even a door to enter. The woman behind the window has an ’80s hairstyle and bright blue eye shadow. She’s reading a tattered Harlequin novel, popping her gum.
“How long?” she asks, her eyes never leaving her book.
“I’m not sure yet. Maybe a week?”
“Two hundred dollars.” She turns the page, still not making eye contact.
I slide two one-hundred-dollar bills through the gap in the window. She slides me the key.
“Tha—” She spins on the swivel chair, turning her back to me.
Seems neither of us wants to be here.
I grab the key and head to room 15, assuming it’s mine since that’s the number on the maroon leather key chain. The lock clicks as I turn the key. The room smells musty, and I’m afraid to imagine what might have caused the big brown stain right in the center of the carpet.
The linens on the bed are threadbare. And the pillows look flatter than pancakes.
“Home sweet home,” I mutter, closing and locking the door. For good measure, I place a chair against it.
My shoes stick to the green carpet as I head to the bathroom. It doesn’t look too bad in here. Has all the essentials and doesn’t smell like something died in here.
I’m desperate for a shower, so I strip off and stand under the spray for what feels like hours. I’m exhausted, both mentally and physically.
I turn off the faucets, dry off, change into sleep shorts and a tank, then put on my sneakers before walking on the carpet. No way am I walking around barefoot.
I pull back the covers, half expecting to find a bug or maybe a stain. Luckily, there’s nothing there. I get into bed and, despite the pillows smelling of cigarettes, I fall asleep right away.
I wake to a text message.
My eyes feel heavy.
My body sore.
Surely, I’ve only been asleep for five minutes.
I fumble for my phone, crack one eye open, and try to make sense of the barrage of messages.
They’re all from Kit.
Are you okay?
I’m worried.
Do you need anything?
Where are you?
Did I do something wrong?
Just let me know you’re okay…
His last message breaks me.
I should delete his number, but I just can’t bring myself to do it.
I switch off my phone, too drained to handle this now.
Or ever.
My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I need to eat at some stage.
I get dressed and decide to go to the diner down the road. It’s nine o’clock by the time I walk there. The place is like a time warp, stuck in the ’60s. I order a burger and fries from the server wearing the iconic baby-blue uniform dress.
I sit quietly, listening to Elvis on the jukebox. No one bothers anyone. It seems we’re all running from something. My burger comes ten minutes later. I don’t realize how hungry I am until I take my first bite.
I sit, eating mechanically.
It’s all a means to an end.
This bleak outlook is because I’m not where I want to be. And I’m not with who I want to be with.
The bell above the door chimes, alerting me to the boy and girl who walk through the door. They chat incessantly as they take a booth, laughing hysterically. They are clearly best friends. They order milkshakes, reminding me so much of Dandy and me at their age.
How times have changed.
I can’t help but watch with sadness and envy, wishing to return to simpler times. I had it good back then. I didn’t realize how much so.
Nostalgia hits.
“No,” I internally berate myself because that is the worst idea I’ve had.
I continue watching the two best friends, laughing and gossiping, living vicariously through them.
I can’t stomach another bite.
Tossing my cash onto the table and leaving a hefty tip, I leave, the joyous laughter of the friends following me out the door.
The night air feels colder, crueler even. I know this is merely my mind playing tricks. Coming here was always going to evoke these feelings of helplessness and loneliness, but seeing those friends, it hit hard that that could have been Dandy and me.
I miss him.
I always have.
But coming back here has opened that wound back up, and before I can question what the fuck I’m doing, my feet are leading me toward the last place I should be.
The Hurricane, the ice creamery I once worked at, looks stuck in time.
Nothing about it has changed, and that’s not a good thing.
The sickly-sweet smell lingers in the air and the cane portion of the word Hurricane still flickers, alerting patrons to hurri the hell out of here.
Dandy and I used to say it was a sign from above.
We were so silly and carefree.
I stand in the shadows, looking into the shop window.
The usual clientele still frequents the place.
Cheerleaders and jocks. Some things don’t change.
The young girl serving the quarterback in his ridiculous jacket is clearly unimpressed.
Knowing his kind, he’s probably trying to swindle a free milkshake.
It’s a billion degrees outside, so wearing that jacket is just a statement piece to show off to those who may not know who he is.
The sight reminds me of Rebecca and her friends. They were so mean as kids. I can’t imagine what they’d be like now. I wonder if she and Bobby are still together. I honestly haven’t given them much thought until now.
During my teenage years, they were always present in my life. Now, those times feel far away and almost forgotten.
“Lucky he’s good-looking, right?” says a familiar voice.
Turning, I feel the color drain from my cheeks because who stands before me, in uniform and holding a garbage bag over his shoulder, is none other than Dandy.
He still works here?
Why does that fact make me sadder than I already am?
We had big plans to get the fuck out of here. Yet here we are, returning to the place we vowed to leave.
My tongue is heavy, and it feels as if I’ve forgotten how to speak. All I can do is stare at my once best friend and assure myself this isn’t a dream.
Dandy’s hair is a washed-out black. His lighter roots show. He has a silver hoop in his nose, and both ears are pierced. His face is gaunt. His eyes are hollowed, haunted. But something sparks behind them when he looks at me. He doesn’t just look, he studies me, and I see the recognition.
“Hallie?” he questions, but he knows it’s me.
To hear my name after hiding behind an alias for so long almost brings tears to my eyes. I can be me again.
However, I should leave and never return, but I can’t abandon Dandy—not again.
I can’t, especially when it’s apparent that he’s in pain. If he suffers from the same illness his father did, then he needs love and support. He needs to know that even though I left, he never left my heart.
We stand staring at one another, both in shock.
We have years to catch up on because I remember the Dandy he once was. This Dandy, I don’t know. And the same goes for him with me.
I knew he would recognize me. He was my best friend. We spent almost every day together for so many years. That bond is one you don’t forget.
“I-I—” He fumbles over his words. “Are you a ghost?”
Sounds dramatic to some, but I understand. I disappeared, only to reappear like this. Of course he thinks something supernatural is at play. That’s far more probable than me standing here, of my own accord, after disappearing without a trace.
“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can say.
Dandy shakes his head before bursting into hysterical laughter. “I don’t see you for years, and the first words you say are you’re sorry. Sorry for what, exactly?”
He’s angry.
He has every right to be.
I’m angry too.
“Dandy, I… There’s a lot.”
He crosses his arms, waiting.
But I don’t even know where to start.
“I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry.”
“And there’s that word again, Hallie. Sorry. You’re sorry for leaving without a word? Abandoning me in this shithole of a town when we promised one another we would leave together? Or are you sorry you think it’s okay to just show up and expect me to be happy to see you?”
He’s right.
“I’ll go.” I turn to leave, but he scoffs angrily.
“That’s right, just run away. Again. Everything we had was a fucking lie. This just confirms it.”
“It wasn’t a lie!” I cry, needing him to understand that our friendship was real.
“Why did you leave without a word then? Best friends don’t disappear like that. If you cared, you would’ve let me know you were safe. I spent so long thinking you might be dead. Do you understand how that feels?”
I shake my head.
I knew where he was this entire time. But he didn’t know where I was. And to just turn up here was selfish of me.
Ashamed and saddened, I look down, knowing I’ve hurt him—again.
“So that’s it? You’re not going to explain where the fuck you were?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Then uncomplicate it.”
“I wish it were that easy.”
Dandy wants no excuses. “Just tell the truth. It’s simple.”
Panic grips me. Telling the truth isn’t simple because what follows is my confession of what I’ve done. And what I plan on doing.
Dandy senses his questions will remain unanswered. “You know what,” he says, eyes turning cruel. “Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of. I’d rather remember who you used to be than accept what you’ve become because this person, this person is someone I do not want to know.”
He brushes past me, leaving me standing broken beyond repair.
I hear him dump the trash before the whine of the back door tells me he’s gone back inside. He’s done.
I’m choked up inside.
I want to scream.
I want to cry.
But I can’t.
I’ve not shed a tear since the night in the woods. It’s like I made a vow to never show vulnerability again.
Seeing Dandy’s face, knowing I caused his anger and pain, brings my hidden tears closer than ever.
However, I sniff them back down because crying gets me nowhere.
I make my way back to the motel, dragging my feet on autopilot. I feel as though someone is following me, but I don’t bother looking back. My mind is plagued with so many thoughts. Nothing makes sense anymore.
I arrive at my room, surprised that coming back here brings me comfort.
Perhaps it’s because I believe these disgusting conditions are what I deserve.
I strip off and slip under the covers.
My cell chimes, alerting me to an awaiting text.
It’s from Jupiter.
Tomorrow.
That’s all the text says.
I’ll deal with it tomorrow, tomorrow because right now, I just want to forget I exist.