Unwritten Pages

Chapter Thirty-Three: Losing It

     Alan hadn't gone hysterical. He hadn't looked like he was on the verge of losing it like Drew was. His expression had been...neutral. Almost like he had expected Winter to be dead.

     I had driven back home with Desiree and Alan. Alan hadn't spoken a word in the car. Desiree kept quiet too. It hadn't been like the car ride to the cemetery. When we had finally pulled to a stop, Alan had muttered a quick goodbye. He left the car and hurried away without even looking at us.

     I squint at Alan's retreating figure. “Is that normal?” I ask Desiree. We're still in the car. She looks out the window and shrugs.

     “I don't know,” Desiree says. “I don't even know him. He probably deals with grief this way,” she adds.

     “Did you see?” I ask her, “or hear? He stopped stuttering at the cemetery,” I say, feeling slightly stupid for saying this. Alan had told me he didn't stutter when he wasn't nervous. But still—wouldn't Drew have made him nervous?

     Desiree shrugs and she starts to get out of the car. “So? Maybe it's normal for him,” she says, giving no second thought to it.

     “I'm just saying,” I say as I turn off the engine and get out of the car along with Desiree. “I found it weird that he didn't just...lose it. Drew looked like he was about to cry, but Alan stood there like everything was perfectly fine.” I think about it for a while. “Actually, he didn't look like everything was fine, but he didn't seem surprised.”

     As I close the door and lock the car, Desiree says, “maybe he already knew.”

     For some reason, that sends a shiver up my spine. Desiree doesn't notice my shiver and continues on with what she's saying. “Maybe he knew and wanted us to confirm it. It was a pretty rude thing to do, if you ask me,” she says.

     “Well,” I say, “you weren't acting exactly what I would call polite...” I say, trailing off, thinking of when she had told Alan to shut up.

     “He wasn't being polite either. Well, in my view, he wasn't,” Desiree says simply. “And how did he know where you lived?”

     I shrug. “Today's the first time I've seen him,” I tell her. Now that Desiree had mentioned it... How did Alan know where I lived? How did he know that we knew Winter? I had a feeling that he hadn't been just randomly selecting houses and asking about a girl named Winter.

     It's silent between us for a while. The bright sun is bearing down on us and there's a flutter of wings as a bird takes flight. I look up to see the pigeon soaring in the sky until the sun swallows it up. I can hear children's laughter from further along down the road. I realize that Chris isn't posing in front of his yard anymore.

     “Why are we just standing here?” Desiree says, interrupting the summer's melody. “Let's go inside.”

* * *

     December 18th

     So Christmas is a week from now. I haven't bought any presents for any yet... Maybe I'll just go shopping during Saturday. I have to buy stuff for my parents. I might have to buy stuff for my friends to... But I actually don't want to...

     I'm so selfish. I mean, I'm just scared of losing more money. Sheesh.

     So today, I moped around like usual. Desiree invited me to go shopping, but my mother wouldn't allow me to go. Unfair. It's not like I love shopping, but I would rather get some fresh air than just sit around at home.