My body

I’ll spare you the details of Travis’s sympathy.
It’s all the same anyway. ‘I’m so sorry’, ‘that’s terrible’, ‘I can’t even imagine what it must have been like’. Everyone’s always just so sorry.

I’ve never really understood why people say, ‘I’m sorry’ when something bad happens to a person. Because generally, they didn’t do anything to cause it. So why apologize? I guess it’s better than saying nothing.

We ended up on my couch watching TV, for hours. At ten he finally spoke up.
“Do you even have parents?”

I roll my eyes, glancing away from the TV.

“Yes. They’re just on a business trip. My sister Mandy will be home at any minute.”

He nods, the usual smile he has still on his lips. We sit there for a few more minutes. He stretches, yawning and his arm lands on my shoulders. I glare at him out of the corner of my eye and shove off his arm. He chuckles and I’m so relieved that he’s just kidding. I couldn’t
deal with him hitting on me right now.

“Well I better go,” He murmurs, getting to his feet.

“Alright,” I say, getting to my feet as well. He sighs, giving me a look. I don’t know what he’s trying to tell me. “What?”

He rolls his eyes.

“C’mon Ally. Can’t you at least pretend it makes you sad to see me go?”
I laugh, and then I kick in the dramatics. I reach out grabbing his hand as if he’d been
walking away.

“No Travis, please don’t leave me!” I cry, randomly adopting a slight southern accent. He plays along, looking away. He yanks his hand out of mine, walking to the front door. I follow
him. “Please! Stay, for me.”

“Alas fair maiden, I regretfully must leave. But I will return one day.”
He takes my hand and kisses it. His emerald eyes lock with mine before he quickly slips out the door. The hand he kissed is hanging limply at my side and it feels… weird. I’m left staring at the wooden door for a minute or two. Awkward. That’s how I feel.

I snap myself out of my daze, hurrying up the stairs to my room.

What just happened? She asks, suddenly appearing. I ignore her for a moment, changing into my pajamas. Hey, you with the body, what the hell just happened?

Nothing, shut up.

She’s silent. I turn off my main light and switch on the lamp at my bedside table.

You’re lying. You’re all… weird.

Shut up Brielle-

I’m not Brielle!

What are you

Brielle is dead, she has been dead for two years. I am not Brielle anymore. I am Ordell, I am what became of Brielle but I am not her. The girl you were best friends with is gone and she is never coming back. She is dead..

Her words feel like a slap to the face. A punch to the gut. A ton of bricks. Another cliché I can’t manage to think of due to what she’s just said.

What do you mean I ask, even my thoughts coming out shaky.

Obviously I knew Brielle was dead, but now that I knew that she was living through me somehow… well it was like all the closure I’d managed to obtain had been thrown out a window. It was like discovering her corpse in the frozen river all over again.

Dying changed me- Changed her. I am now Ordell..
She’d come up with a name for herself. Why hadn’t I noticed that? She was in my head, how could she hide her thoughts from me?

Shut up, is the most creative response I can think of. I switch off the lamp and immediately fall into a restless sleep.

Here we go again, I kind of wanna be more then friends, so take it easy on me I’m afraid you’re never satisfied.

My eyes snap open, the world appearing with abruptness. I feel tired, as if I’d gone to sleep at 3 in the morning instead of ten at night. My phone continues to blare and I realize I should get that.

“What?” I answer, not even bothering to check the number.

“ Why hello to you too beautiful, by the tone you’re using with me, I’m going to assume I didn’t just wake you up.”

“Travis, if you don’t explain to me why you’re calling, I will find you and I will beat you to death with a blunt instrument, possibly a tree branch,” I state, gripping my phone tightly.

“I wasn’t aware the tree branch was an instrument. Maybe I’ll learn to play it.”

I simply growl into the phone. He laughs and I can picture his expression. My anger entertains him. What was wrong with this boy? Constantly trying to communicate and spend time with me. It was plain old rude. “Alright, alright calm down. I was just calling to see if you wanted to go out for ice cream with me.”

His words stop me up short. All my irritation evaporates and confusion rains down on me. I frown, hesitating.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Generally my first response would be to roll my eyes and hung up on him. But something tells me he’s being serious and by saying no I’d be truly hurting his feelings. I feel guilty just at the thought of doing it. I owe him so much.

“Um, okay sure. Sounds good.”

“Really?” It’s his turn to be shocked.

“Yeah. Sure,” I answer, still a little uneasy. What’s happening to my life? I’m going to go hang out with a stoner I’ve only known for a few weeks. I never saw this coming.

“Awesome,” I can hear the grin through the phone lines. “See you in an hour.”

He hangs up.

I sit up, sliding onto the floor. I cross the room going out into the hall.

“S’that you Ally-Pally?” Mandy calls from the kitchen.

“No, it’s a strange man that broke into the house last night,” I respond, walking down the stairs. Mandy’s at the kitchen counter, sipping at orange juice. She’s wearing a violet blouse and a pencil skirt. “You got work today?”

“Mmhmm,” She says absently, reading a magazine.

“So why exactly have mum and dad got you babysitting me?” I ask, sitting at one of the kitchen stools. I take her juice, drinking some down. She glares at me before answering.

“Because you went crazy and stabbed a student and then mum came home and you were in bed crying and disturbed.”

“Oh yes. That,” I say casually. She rolls her eyes, then she becomes serious.

“What’s up with you Ally? Talk to me.”

I didn’t talk to her. I lied, saying I was just stressed. That I’d had a freak out and I was fine
now. I don’t think she believed me. At eleven the door bell rang. Hell, he was exactly on time.

I walk over to the door and just as I’m reaching for the handle, something happens. I’m nervous. There’s butterflies in my stomach and my palms are sweating. My jaw drops and my arm stays extended, fingers barely touching the cool metal of the door knob. What the hell is happening?

I shake off the feeling, pulling the door open.

What I see almost knocks me over.

Travis looks good.

Instead of wearing his usual black hoodie or plain tee, he’s wearing a navy blue polo shirt. His pants don’t have giant rips in them. His hair is still messy, but slight swept out of his eyes. He’s not wearing a beanie, or anything that might suggest he’s a stoner.

He looks nice.

“Hey, don’t show how shocked you are, I might notice,” He says, winking at me. I smile, looking down.

“Sorry. You just… you look different.”

“This is my, ‘I promise I’m not a hooligan’ outfit,” He explains and I grin.

I glance back and Mandy is standing in the archway between the living room and kitchen,
watching us. I give her a curt smile for being nosy.

“I’m gonna hang out with Travis Mandy, see ya later.”

I shove Travis back, getting outside and shutting the door before she can say anything. We start walking to his car when the nervousness returns. Something’s been nagging at me ever since he called this morning. “This isn’t a date right?”

My question brings us both to a halt.

He smirks, “Do you want it to be?”