I Did(n't Do) It

Chapter 18: Baking Soda and Rubbing Alcohol (2/3)

"It's not like to her to just up and leave." Alex said, wringing her hands nervously. "I don't know what to do."

"Alex, you need to eat." Joe said, pushing her tray of food towards her. "These lunch ladies did not reheat these week old left overs for nothing."

"I can't eat!" Alex pushed the tray of food away, checking her phone for the millionth time. "Where did she go?"

"Alex, I'm worried about her too. But you need to take care of yourself."

"Yeah, Alex." Jason agreed.

"Come on." Emily groaned, staring at Alex. "You're literally killing yourself over her - has she tried to make contact to you? Any calls? Any emails?-"

"Emily, stop." Joe interrupted.

"No. No, Joe. She needs to hear this." She turned back to face Alex. "She doesn't text you, call you, interact with you in ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM. And here you are, starving yourself, puking, and crying all hours of the night. For what? So she can go live her life and have fun and be who she wants to be while she leaves you - leaves ALL of you - in the dust? That's not fair. Not at all."

"We don't even know if she is alive." Joe pointed out.

"It's Violet." Alex said, staring down at her untouched plate of food. "She's alive. She's a fighter. She may not like confrontation, but she won't back down if her life is at stake."

Joe rubbed Alex's shoulders and she put her head in her hands.

"She'll be okay." Joe whispered, rubbing her arms reassuringly. "Violet's strong."