My Last Regret

December 11th

Snow pelted down as I walked along the sidewalk on the way home from school. It was only 9am, but there was a scheduled severe snow storm today so our school was dismissed early. I was happy because it was Friday, and snow days were great.

I just loved snow.

I didn't expect feet and feet of snow, like in Baltimore during the winter, since I was further down south, but I didn't care how deep the snow was. Snow days meant no school and school was a drag recently.

For the past few months, I only made two friends and they still barely even know my name. It doesn't bother me because I try hard to just focus on my school work and keeping my grades up, and that's it.

Also, the majority of the past week, I had been thinking about my birthday coming up.

I was going to be seventeen.

It was a big deal, to me at least.

The whole walk home, I was trying to get my phone to defrost by putting it in my pockets and rubbing it between my glove-clad hands.

God, it was so fucking cold, my phone froze in first block.

I sighed and gave up, putting it in my back pocket and focusing on keeping myself warm.

I pulled my beanie down onto my head, partially covering my face, and squeezed my fingers into my jacket pockets and pulled my jacket, tight, around me. I adjusted my bag on my shoulder slightly and walked on, managing to see in the snow falling in my face.

-

Making it inside my dad's apartment, finally, I tossed my bag to the side and immediately jumped on the couch. I rubbed my hands together furiously, trying my best to keep warm because the heater decided to stop working this morning before I left to go to school.

My dad had a fire in the fire place and was in the kitchen making an Italian pasta TV dinner thing for him to eat.

I leaned into the couch some and looked over at him. He picked at the small black, plastic tray with a fork and a small frown was on his face.

"These things taste so gross." He stated subtly and opened the cabinet, probably in search of some type of spice to make it taste better.

"I can run down to the convenience store at the end of the block and pick up something to eat, if you want?" I suggested and he shot me a glare.

"I wouldn't send you out in weather like this. What kind of parent do you think I am?" He raised an eyebrow and then sighed.

"The storm isn't supposed to hit us until after noon."

"I'm still not sending you out, Alex." His words were stern.

After a few moments without words, he spoke up again.

"Do you want one? I've got ravioli and another one with broccoli or something..." He made a gesture with his fork toward the freezer.

"You just told me those things were disgusting." I pointed out.

"I said they were gross, not disgusting. There is, in fact, a difference." He laughed slightly and I shook my head.

"No, I'm fine. I'm not really hungry anyways." I shrugged and he padded over to the couch and sat down next to me.

Setting his TV dinner on the small coffee table, he watched me for a minute.

"Your mom called today. Just before you got home, actually." He said, smile sliding down his face and replaced with a half-frown.

"Don't look at me like that." I laughed nervously, punching his shoulder. "You're making me feel like something tragic happened."

He looked at me briefly, hurt in his eyes, and I was starting to get worried.

"Did-"

"She called to tell me she missed you and to wish you a happy early birthday." He said, lifting the mood a little bit. "She also said that she was going to send something in the mail...but the weather and-"

"I understand."

"She left a number." He gestured to the counter in the kitchen. "In case you wanted to call her back."

"I have her number in my phone." I stated bluntly and earned a look from my dad.

"She told me she'd try to call you earlier this morning."

"My phone was off." I sighed.

"Well I think you should call her back some time, because I bet she would love to hear your voice."

With that, he picked up his dark tray and picked at it lightly with his fork.

-

It was a few minutes before noon when I decided to call my mom back.

I had fallen asleep on the couch after my dad was finished eating and I had been woken up with a really strong need to pee. I did, and then glanced at the clock, seeing that I had taken a two or so hour nap and thought it to be a good idea to call my mom.

I wandered into my room and sat on my bed and discarded my jacket to the floor, shaking my arms free from the thick sleeves. It landed on the floor in a pile with the rest of my jackets from this week and I stood up briefly to dig around in my back pocket for my phone.

I scrunched my face into a confused expression when I didn't find it right away, and automatically started to freak out. I dug around in my other pocket, not feeling it, and decided to check my jacket pockets. I reached down to retrieve my jacket from the ball on the floor and dug around in the pockets, still not finding anything.

I threw the jacket back down and exited my room, re-entered the living room and looked around for my dad.

"Hey, dad?" I called and he poked his head up above the coffee table. He was messing with the fire because it was so fucking cold.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"Have you seen my phone anywhere?" I asked and he raised an eyebrow.

Biting his lip slightly, he stood up, dusted off his pants and looked around the room.

"No, not recently. Are you sure it isn't in your room?" He looked at me and I shook my head.

"I've already checked everywhere where it would have been." I sighed. "Fuck."

"What?"

"I probably dropped it on the way home from school, because it was pretty hard to see and I tripped up a few times. That's just great." I threw my arms up in the air dramatically and let out a groan. "Fucking great."

And then it hit me.

I didn't have Jack's number anywhere. No where, except on that phone. I hadn't memorized it yet because I didn't think I'd need to.

I was so fucking screwed.

"Dad, mom's number's still on the counter, right?" I asked and he nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I jumped into the kitchen and picked up the small, white piece of paper and read the number off of it. I grabbed the cordless phone and dialed the number. It rang and the ring was so slow and loud in my ears and finally someone picked up.

"Gaskarth residence, who's calling?" A voice that I didn't want to hear rang into the phone and I rolled my eyes.

"Get the phone to my mom, I need to talk to her now." I said sternly and heard a laugh come from the other line.

"Alexander, is that you?" he asked and I groaned.

"Let me talk to my fucking mom, it's urgent." I growled and he laughed again.

"Still, with the language, son?"

"God, don't fucking call me that and let me talk to my mom." I yelled.

I looked over at my dad to see if he was staring, but he wasn't even in the room.

"What do you need to talk to her about? Because, surely, you can tell me first. What if she isn't home right now?" He asked me and I wanted to hang up the phone so fucking bad.

"Please, let me talk to my mom?"

There was a pause, a deep, phlegm-y cough, and a shuffling noise.

"Alex, are you okay?" My mom's voice filled my ears in a few moments time and I couldn't be happier.

"Oh god, mom! I haven't heard your voice in forever and dad gave me your message. I miss you too." I sounded like a girl, talking so fast and whatnot.

"Alex, I have never been so happy to talk to you. Is everything going well?"

"Sort of. I lost my phone this morning and I was wondering if you could do me a favor. A big favor." I was ready to get on my knees and beg, even though she wouldn't see it.

"What is it, sweetie?" She asked, her voice soft and caring.

"I really need you to help me get in touch with Jack."