Trace Your Shadows

THEN

A week passed after that, and she saw nothing of Pete, nor much of his family. She spotted Hilary once, standing out on the front porch, phone to her ear and looking frantic and close to tears. Fiona couldn’t figure out what she was saying but got the impression it had something to do with the current events in her household. The rest of the town seemed to have given up on what had been their favourite game, guess why the Wentz kid tried to off himself, and had returned back to their menial lives.

There were still whispers, stares, the occasion slow drive by down the street, but for the most part, people had begun to leave the Wentz family alone. Almost too alone. If Fiona hadn’t know any better, she’d almost believe they’d been exiled for being involved in such a taboo subject. It made her sad to think that a family that had always been so lovely, so friendly, could be so easily turned against for something they hadn’t even known was coming. Or maybe they had. Fiona couldn’t tell from the outside.

It was a Saturday morning when Fiona ran down the stairs, two at a time, dressed up in her training gear and buzzing with excitement, all thoughts of her neighbours vacant from her mind. She’d recently made try outs for her school’s track team which she’d dreamed about forever, she loved running and couldn’t think of anything better.

She smelt something sweet and heavy in the air, and made her way into the kitchen to find her mother wrist-deep in cookie dough, flour streaked through her hair and a frustrated look on her face. Fiona raised an eyebrow at this, her mother’s not exactly a domestic goddess in the kitchen so to come across this scene was a bit of a surprise.

“Ma?” Fiona asked, an amused expression coming across her face when her mother gave a little huff in reply. “What cha doing?”

“Sewing a dress, what does it look like?” her mother’s quick answer came, before she let out a little sigh. “I wanted to do something for the neighbors. I just, I think what they’ve gone through is so horrible and I just want to, I don’t know, help in some way.”

“By giving them baked goods?” Fiona questioned, giving a sympathetic look when her mother grimaced.

“I couldn’t think of anything better,” her mother responded, looking down dejectedly at the abandoned cookie dough.

Fiona felt for her mom, knowing she only had the best intentions and that maybe a little act of kindness is what the Wentz family needed to let them know they’re not entirely alone in this. With a small smile, she crossed over to her mom, wrapping one arm around her waist in a half hug and kissed her cheek gently.

“You know what, I think it’s a nice idea, mom. Even the gesture itself speaks volumes, and I think they’ll appreciate a little kindness,” Fiona said knowingly, untangling herself from her mother to swipe her finger through the mixture for a taste. “And who doesn’t love cookies?”

Fiona’s mother laughed, pretending to swot her daughter out of the kitchen dramatically. “Out with you, can’t have your fingers all through the neighbors’ treats now, can I?”

“Whatever! Anyway, I’ll be home later, I’m off for training now!” Fiona said as a goodbye, grabbing her bag from the dining table and giving a short wave as she headed for the door.

“Okay sweetie, have fun! Good luck!”

Fiona smiled at this, shutting the front door behind her and jumping the three steps from the porch to the footpath, humming to herself. She was about to make her way down to the gate before jogging down to the school fields as a warm up when she realised she was being watched. Turning quickly, she found herself face to face with the youngest Wentz boy, his face blank and distant until he realised the person he’d been staring at was looking right back at him.

For a moment, Fiona considered just carrying on down her front lawn and saying nothing to the boy, after all, what could she say? But she’d never really been one to listen to her first instinct so instead she turned to face him with what she hoped was a comforting smile on her face.

“Hey,” she called out, watching as he realised she was speaking to him and straightened himself out.

Andrew cleared his throat awkwardly, looking more than a little confused. “Uh, hello.”

“You alright?” Fiona tried, suddenly very aware that she didn’t know what to say now that she had his attention. Andrew shrugged one shoulder, casting a glance over to his house before looking back. “Just trying to get away for a bit?” Fiona asked, feeling sympathy rise in her when Andrew nodded slowly.

“Yeah.”

There was a prolonged silence between them, one neither could seem to escape from when suddenly Fiona couldn’t help herself and she asked the forbidden question that’d been plaguing her for a while now.

“Is your brother okay?”

Andrew looked startled by the question, frozen by the thought, and Fiona worried that she’d crossed the line. Of course she had, she’d touched up on the one subject that everyone else had tried to avoid. But before she could backpedal, Andrew returned to himself and blinked slowly before giving a small nod.

“I think so, I don’t know,” he said finally, and he sounded exhausted. Fiona couldn’t imagine the situation he was in right now.

“Oh,” Fiona answered because what else is there to say?

There was another silence before Andrew nodded again. “Yeah. I should ah, go back in,” he said, more to himself than to her, and then he was gone, leaving Fiona alone in her front yard suddenly feeling rather despondent.

She tried to shake herself from the encounter, to continue on her way before she was late to her first ever track practice when a movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Fiona glanced up at the Wentz house and noticed the curtains moving in the bedroom that faced her own. Pete’s bedroom. She watched for a moment more, maybe expecting to see the pale face of the boy himself but she was met with nothing. Knowing she wouldn’t even know what to do if she did see him, she pushed herself into a jog and made her way down the street, knowing a good run will help clear her mind and get her focused on things other than the boy next door.