Wrong Impression

3. It should be easier. Why is it harder?

Kay had managed to convince her parents to take Angie in without any difficulties. Mostly, as Kay pointed out savagely, because this way she'd have no further reason to get out of the house.

Angie had first thought Kay might be exaggerating with the whole house arrest thing, but after a week there, she could see it plainly. Kay only left the house to go to college and various classes, always chaperoned by Danny who seemed oblivious to the hate pouring out of her every pore. Her parents were nice, civil, stiff as a board. And William, Kay's older brother, had apparently disappeared. The family was in ruins.

And Angie tried her best to keep her mouth shut and mind her own business. Because Kay had warned her that her parents stayed civil only as long as no one disagreed with their crazy decisions. Angie disagreed, but she needed a roof over her head more.

The living arrangements were to her liking. She had use of the rooms in the house, but that was about it. She would have to fend for herself when it came to cooking and cleaning and she was okay with that. It was better than anything she could've secured on her own. And she could actually focus on studying properly.

Unfortunately, her B was still a pressing issue. She'd talked to her professor, explained the situation, offered up extra work to improve her grade. Oh, the twisted look on his face when he'd realized just how needy she was. He'd only promised to consider her statement and think of something. It made Angie shudder.

"You should report him," Kay said outraged when Angie confided to her.

"And tell them what? That he's looking at me funny? That I'm sure he's imagining me naked when we talk?" Angie rolled to her back on her new bed and stared at the ceiling. "I have no proof. And it's his word against mine."

Kay snarled as an answer, but didn't press the issue. This was one thing Angie loved about her friend. She knew when to insist and when to just drop it.

What she didn't like about Kay, was how serious she was. How quiet and reserved, locking herself in her rooms for hours. Sure, Angie did the same, but she had work to do. Kay, on the other hand, just stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling. And it broke Angie's heart.

But one fine evening, two weeks after she'd moved in, Angie heard something unusual. She was in the middle of her latest Biology assignment, trying to cross chromosomes correctly, when she heard it. Kay's voice, and it seemed like she was talking to someone.

Angie froze, listening carefully. She was pretty sure Cassandra and Jonah were downstairs watching TV. There was no one else in the house and Kay didn't have a phone. Who was she talking to? For a few seconds, Angie debated whether to butt in or not, but she didn't want Kay to get into trouble, and if she could hear her, then so could her parents.

So she put her pencil down, eased out of her chair and tiptoed out of the room. The voice sounded lower in the hallway, but Angie pressed on and opened the door to her friend's room as quietly as possible. The lights were off.

The little light coming from the streetlamp outside Kay's window showed her lying on the bed, twisting something between her fingers. It looked like a credit card.

"It sucks, you know," Kay mumbled to the card. "I still can't believe they can actually do this. And you? Where are you? Why haven't you found me yet?"

Angie squirmed. Even in the darkness, she could see the tears on Kay's face.

"I miss you so much," Kay sobbed. "It's been five months. It should be easier. Why is it harder?"

Tears filled Angie's eyes. This wasn't fair. Kay shouldn't be in this much pain. And she was going to do something about it. So she pushed the door open to announce her presence.