Standing By

Unreachable

(Kevin)

The ride home was a relatively quiet one. Avi didn't seem to want to talk, so I let him rest his eyes. Poor guy had been through an awful lot the last couple of days. After I pulled into our apartment complex, he was already halfway up the stairs before I could even get out of the car. Dude can move fast when he wants to. I jogged up the stairs, hoping the unlocking process wold slow him down some. He didn't have to spill his guts to me tonight if he didn't fee like it, but some casual conversation would be nice. He was just stepping in when I got to the front door.

"Avi!" I called out before he could slip down the hall and into his room. Which, based on the angling of his body, was exactly what he was fixing to do.

He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it on the back of the couch. "Kev, I'm tired and just want to go to bed."

"Want me to make some tea and we can watch TV together?" I asked hopefully.

He gave me a sleepy half grin. "Sounds nice, but I really just want to go to bed. Thanks though."

I nodded slowly, only somewhat satisfied with his answer. I knew he was tired. I just hoped he'd talk when he was ready. He disappeared around the corner and I slipped into my own room. Pulling on my 'jama bottoms, I curled up with my iPad. Twitter check. Made a quick update, trying to pull myself into a positive state of mind. Read through my private messages and issued a couple of prayers for friends. Pulled up Facebook and did the same thing. Then I went to our Soundcloud and moved around in there, playing with Kirstie's idea of hacking into FP. It wouldn't be the nicest thing in the world to do... or the most honest. I really shouldn't. But by golly, I was worried about him. How worried was I, though? Worried enough to compromise on the right thing to do? What was the right thing to do?

Feeling very conflicted, I bowed my head to pray about it. By the time I lifted my head, I was just as conflicted as before. And now hungry. I got up and made my way to the kitchen hoping to find something to eat, being that neither of us had made it to the grocery store yet. I rummaged around in the pantry for a minute, figuring it'd be my best bet. I pulled out a package of crackers and a jar of peanut butter. Peanut butter crackers could be good. Opening the refrigerator door for a drink, I found a fresh-looking block of cheese. Oh, but cheese and crackers sounded even better. I stashed the peanut butter and pulled the wrapping off of the cheese. Smelled fine. I opened the silverware drawer and rummaged around for a sharp knife. Spoons... forks... butter knives... where was our good knife? I pulled the drawer divider out and peered underneath it. Nope. Dishwasher? We really shouldn't put it in there; it was more of a hand wash item, but either one of us could have stuck it in there by accident. I just found a couple of bowls and a few spoons. Hmm. Maybe it'd been misplaced in a different drawer. I opened drawers trying to locate it, but it seemed to have totally disappeared. Dang it, where could it have gone? Now we're not the neatest people in the world, but we're not really slobs either. We generally put things back in the vicinity of of where they belong. I gave the kitchen one last once-over before walking down the hall to Avi's room. I knocked lightly on the door, wondering if he was still up.

"What?" he grunted sleepily through the door.

"Did I wake you?" I asked guiltily, reaching down and twisting the knob to let myself in. My hand slipped right off. Locked. It was locked. We never locked our inside doors. Closed them, but not locked them. I frowned at the knob. What was he doing? What was he hiding?
"Not yet," Avi answered hoarsely, sounding distinctly like he had been asleep.

I wiggled the knob. "Well, I was making myself a snack but I can't find our good knife. Do you know where it is?"

"Nope."

"Can I come in?" I fiddled with the knob some more.

"Nope," he said again.

"Why?" I asked concernedly.

"For one thing, I'm half asleep. For another, I'm naked. For a third, I don't know where the knife is. And for the fourth, I don't want to talk right now," Avi rattled off.

Peculiar. Avi was being peculiar. And, although I couldn't quite put my finger on it, I felt slightly uneasy.

I sighed softly, trying not to let my irritation show. "Good night."

"Good night."

I made my way back to the kitchen, tossing the block of cheese back into the fridge and going back to the peanut butter. I grabbed a butter knife and bottle of water and retreated to my room. Sitting down on the bed, I spread the peanut butter over a few crackers, munching away as I picked my phone back up. Should I? My mind flipped back to the locked door. Well... I paused, my finger just above the icon, and checked with my heart, with my gut, with my brain. Two out of three told me to do it. I pushed my finger down on the icon and quickly navigated to FP. Password. OK now, what would Avi use as a password? I tried a couple of the more usual ones—the home security system, the safe, our Wifi. His phone lock screen. Exhausting the typical ones, I tried a few of our Pentatonix passwords. Nope. OK, now some commonly-used ones. His birthday, his family's birthdays. Our birthdays. I had no clue what Jessica's birthday wold be. I tried some of our names, then different permutations of our names. Twenty minutes later, I determined that to not be right. I tried his family's names, then for kicks and giggles, Jessica's. I didn't know her last name. Maybe words of things he liked? Nature. He was, first and foremost, a nature lover. I tried as many trees as I could think of. Flowers. Plants. It spun for a minute after I entered 'aloe vera' and I held my breath hopefully. Could I have... nope, false alarm, dagnabit. Groaning, I tossed the phone to the side. This was foolish. Avi's password could be anything. My chances of accidentally stumbling on it were slim to none. I was worried sick about my best friend; he was keeping things from us, and the more I reached out to him, there he was pulling away and isolating himself. Right now he was behind a locked door. I couldn't get to him. Six years invested in this friendship, but he couldn't—wouldn't—let me in his heart, his mind. I knew how unhappy he'd been lately; he'd let me know that, but I can't help him or be there for him if he won't let me. You can't help a person that doesn't want help.

Feeling a bit hopeless, I texted Tim, asking him—no, really, pleading with him—to tell me what Avi had told him, then sent one to Chance, saying the exact same thing. Then I sent out emails to Scott, Kirstie, and Mitch to keep their ears open and to try to be extra nice to him, to keep his spirits up. The next thing I wanted to do was pray—pray for Avi, pray hard. I put a lot of my heart and soul into it, concentrating on each thought. It's the one thing I could do for a friend who was pulling away from me.