Andy

We were all pretty quiet on the walk back, including Andy, who had been bursting with stories to tell when he'd arrived. He looked even more worn out and tired than he had before the fight. I made note to ask him about it that night when we got back to the hotel, and would be away from curious ears.

Once we’d walked back, Eva said her goodbyes to Trevor and Mike, keeping it short and sweet. There was an unspoken tension between us four. She finished up and climbed in the car to go back to her house. Andy lingered, sitting in the backseat, flipping through one of Eva’s teen gossip magazine with a concerned look.

“That was fun.” Eva said as she drove, just as droplets of rain began to fall. I nodded in agreement, except my mind was determined to only play the bad parts over and over.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“So... What happened with you guys and Mitch, and that weird rocker guy?”

“Huh? Oh... They were bullying Mike so Trevor stepped in. I was only observing. That guy came to help out.”

“Oh... It’s just that he acted like he knew you.”

“Oh... Yeah. He does. Kind of... He was our waiter yesterday when we went out to lunch with my grandmother,” I told her, wincing as I did. It wasn’t a complete lie. I peeked up into the rear-view mirror, seeing Andy’s forehead and darkly shadowed eyes peering down at the magazine he was holding, hidden from any onlookers within his bubble.

“Mitch is trouble,” she says angrily, shaking her head. “He’s two years older than me, was in my math class for two years until he dropped out to pursue drugs, and even then he wasn’t a good kid. Instead of self harming when he felt bad, he hurt and killed people...” She shivered, and her eyes froze in ancient fear.

“But because he killed his first human when he was still a minor, he only served juvie for a year. Bullshit.”

“What did he do?” I wondered hesitantly.

“He hit and killed a kid - a teenager. I remember the story...” she says slowly, quietly. “Fourteen-year-old Robbie Strandson. Killed June 1st, 2o13. Hit his bike with the grill of his car, sending him into the street. He ran over his legs twice... Before beating him with a baseball bat, leaving him to bleed out in the street. They found him guilty because he’d taken a picture of himself and the kid’s body with the kid’s phone and left it with him. He wanted to be found... He wanted people to know it was him... He got some sick pride out of it... Ugh.”

I was frozen with a nauseous fear, slowly realizing that without a second thought, that man would have shot Trevor and wouldn’t have felt guilty at all afterwards. A chill ran down my spine as I imagined how close we’d been...

“He would have...” I murmured to myself, unable to finish.

“Yeah,” she replied quietly, swallowing tightly. “He would have.”

I looked up to see us pulling into her driveway. She turned off the ignition and pulled out the key, but didn’t get out immediately. Instead, she sat there, staring at the windshield blankly.

“I’m sorry. Today was terrible,” she apologized.

“You didn’t know...” I sighed in her defence. “It’s okay. Think of it this way: stuff like that wouldn’t happen in my dull old life. So thank you.”

“You have nothing to thank me for.” She laughed with flat amusement. “Anyway, we’re late and your parents are probably mad.”

She nodded towards the clock, which was an hour after when we said we’d be back.

“Also...”

She unlocked her phone and showed me the screen. 6 missed calls from Dad.

“Check yours.”

I pulled the aqua blue iPhone from my shorts pocket and unlocked it, looking at the screen.

4 missed calls from Mom
2 missed calls from Dad
4 unread new messages

I didn’t bother reading them since we were going inside anyways. Groaning in dread, I unlocked the door and climbed out, lingering by the open door while Andy shuffled through the limited space above the console to tumble out the passenger door, sitting in the gravel, rubbing his ass in annoyance, slowly standing up and unravelling his stiff, tall frame.

“Damn backseat might as well been a steamer trunk,” he muttered, walking to the door.

“There you girls are!” Mickey exclaimed when we got in. “You weren’t picking up.”

“Just having too much fun for phones, Dad,” Eva told him, trying her best to summon the preppy cheerleader-girl attitude she’d left the house in.

Franky was still in the lounge, surprisingly. He seemed like the kind of guy to hide in his room all day writing music, listening to it, and hating the world. Except now he wasn’t alone. There was another guy with him who had buzzed strawberry blonde hair and a goatee, messing around with an acoustic guitar in the living room.

“What’d you guys do?” my dad asked, trying to sound interested in our activities, but it was pretty clear he just wanted to snoop and be sure we hadn’t done anything that we weren’t supposed to.

“Went to Trevor and Mike’s house. They’re great. Then the skate park. Just hung around and got to know each other.” I shrugged, dismissing what had been a vital detail to the whole day.

He nodded, and there was disappointment in his expression because he hadn’t caught us in a lie.

“Sorry to break up your reunion, but we should probably be heading back.”

It really didn’t feel like the whole day was gone already, but surprisingly, it was. “That was quick.” I murmur in surprise.

“Yeah, it was. But it was great while it lasted. Promise me you’ll visit and talk to me often once you move out here? Oh, I’ll give you my number, too.”

She took my phone and put in her contact. I did the same for her. She hugged me then, and whispered another sincere apology in my ear.

“It’s all good,” I assured her once she’d pulled away. “And I’ll keep in contact.”

“Likewise.”

Why are parents such hypocrites? Like... They’re always in a hurry, telling you to hurry up with your makeup and whatnot, only to be the first one ready, and your parents are still drinking coffee.

That’s how now is. They continued to visit for another half hour, and I kept up the small talk until it was just amusing that we hadn’t left yet.

“Yeah, Dad we should probably get going,” I reminded him sarcastically.

“Oh! What time...?”

He continued to keep up the chit chat with Mickey as he gathered his stuff and got ready to leave. Another hug for Eva, another it was nice to see you again for Micky, and an awkward wave and a it’s nice meeting you to Franky, an effort to which he replied with a grunt. And after all that was out of the way, we were on our way.

We stopped for dinner at a McDonalds, and I shared my headphones and fries with Andy through our tradition. He talked again, but in a low-key way, like someone does after a long workday.

Once we’d gotten back to the hotel, I deviated from my parents and headed to my room. Flipping on the lights, Andy took my phone and put it on the dock next to the TV, selecting music that fit his tastes. It was like a replay of that morning, only without the arguing.

“So, what’s the plan? Are we leaving early, staying here or…?”

He yawned, collapsing on the bed. “Actually, after some experimenting, I’m pretty damn tired. Mind if we leave later, after I take a nap?”

“No problem.”

“Probably twelve.”

“Isn’t that when... Y’know, the crazies are out?”

He had his inked up left arm draped over his eyes. One vibrant blue iris peeked out from under to look at me. “Yes.”

“And that’s a good idea?”

“When has it ever been a bad idea to sneak out of your hotel room at twelve at night with the ghost of a boy you hardly know - without your parents knowing - to do God knows what in California. Not a bad idea, stop knocking it,” he says in a serious tone, closing his eyes again.

“Okay...”

I went to find some new clothes to change into, deciding on taking a shower and maybe texting some of the folks back home while Andy slept.

“Can I ask you a question?” I asked him reluctantly, standing facing away from him.

“Of course.”

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. “What did you mean earlier? What you said to Mitch? The numbers you gave him? It was a date.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“Nothing important.” He sounded somewhat upset, as though he’d done something he wasn’t supposed to. “Just something to make that asshole shit himself.”

“Well, it wasn’t just that... But the day. It’s the same day as the day that boy he killed died. Was that on purpose? Did you know?”

More silence.

“...No. I didn’t.” He finally sighed, sounding worn. I left it there, pursing my lips.

“Just so we’re clear... You’ll always tell me everything I need to know, right?”

“Yes. Always.”

“And this I don’t need to know?”

“Not really, no.”

“Okay...”

I got a fresh change of clothes, sleepwear to start, since we had a few hours ahead of us before we set out on our epic adventure. I shut the bathroom door, finding comfort in pressing my forehead against the cold wood.

I didn’t believe him.