I know, I was supposed to update yesterday but it's better than nothing XD
Long chapter for y'all!
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«DAY 8»
Luke
I had trouble falling asleep that night. How could I, when I finally had something? When I was so close to finding her?
Every time I closed my eyes, my heart pounded in my chest and rang in my ears, making it impossible to sleep. Finally I settled into a state of half-consciousness of tossing, turning and thinking. The longest night I'd ever had.
As soon as the clock strikes 7, I stumble out of bed and shake Lissa awake.
"Mmmm," she murmurs, rolling over in exhaustion.
"Get up!" I tease happily. I haven't felt this alive in months, years, even. There is a stupid grin on my face I can't knock off no matter how much I try.
I wait impatiently as Lissa sluggishly gets up and heads to the washroom. She doesn't wear any makeup on a usual day, but today she puts on an effort to look nice, I guess. I find myself knocking on the washroom door twenty minutes later, asking her to hurry up.
Then with a sigh, I fall back on the bed, my insides tingling.
Blond hair. Chocolate colored eyes. I fell in love with her smile. And if I find her nurse, I can see that smile again. I'll find out what happened to that girl I met two years ago, one I've only met for a few days without even learning her name.
Eunice. What a beautiful name, what a beautiful memory.
The washroom door opens and Lissa walks out wearing a button up and jeans. She throws me a glance and then opens up my laptop, sitting down next to me on the bed. I sit up, watching her.
She opens up the database again and clicks on the name Eunice Denby. The last I remember of the owner of the name is a pudgy-looking woman with sharp, strong eyes, who fed Jane her meals and occasionally laughed along to her stories. She was kind enough, but didn't speak a word to the awkward, lanky boy who sat next to her bed.
On the last day I saw Jane, she stared at me for longer than usual.
"Who are you, boy?" She asked, as if noticing me for the first time.
"L-Luke," I said, startled.
"Friend?" she asked, gesturing to Jane, asleep and moaning in her bed. She'd been in extreme pain for the last two hours, as she'd underwent yet another surgery. This time to re-stitch a deep cut in her leg. She came back crying, and I'd held her hand until she fell asleep.
"Um, yeah," I told the dark-skinned nurse. I guess you could call me that.
"How long have you been coming here?" She asked, checking Jane's tubes and making sure she is comfortable.
"It's only been three days," I replied.
The nurse wiped her hands on her white scrubs and stood up. "Well. Come back tomorrow," she said, as if she'd been thinking of a way to discreetly get rid of me. "She's quite tired."
Then she turned around and left without another word.
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"Luke," Lissa says, interrupting me. She closes the laptop and taps me on the shoulder. "This address is over two hours away."
"It's fine. I have a credit card, there are taxis, nothing else matters," I reply.
She bites her lip, looking down at my figure on the bed. "What are you planning to do if we find her? Jane, I mean."
I know what she means by the question. Will we be taking her back to Motion Records? Will she stay home? What will happen to us?
I think of the mental beating Ben will give us, the hard time she'll have fitting in, and to explain it to the staff and even to hide her from the fans...my brain hurts already.
"There's no choice but to take her home," I conclude, and Lissa's eyes go soft.
"She'll be unhappy," she says.
"I know." But I'm selfish, I want to say. I doubt she'll remember me or even feel the same way I feel for her. But I still want to take her with me.
Is that a bad thing?
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"Take a left here," Lissa says to the taxi driver, peering into the map on her phone screen. We're sitting next to each other in the back seat to Eunice Denby's home address.
Like a movie, I'm already imagining the nurse, and I'm imagining her recognizing me on her doorstep, embracing me in a hug. "I know who you are," she'd say. "She's here with me. It's okay."
The city is beautiful. So is the wide blue sky, and I'd never noticed. For a second I even consider being a compassionate human being. But then I think, nah, rather not.
"I think today might be the best day of my life," I turn to Lissa, beaming.
She looks up from her phone and smiles back at me. "I hope it is."
"You have dimples," I tease, poking her left chin. She pauses in surprise.
"W-what?"
"When you smile. You only have one dimple," I tell her, grabbing her chin and turning her face sideways with a grin. "On the left side."
"Oh," she blushes, turning away from me. "Yeah, it was always like that. I guess I'm some sort of a defect."
"I think it's cute," I tell her mindlessly.
She proceeds in giving me strange looks the whole ride there, as if she's never seen someone act someone act so weird. I laugh to myself.
Lissa
If there was one thing I'd never have expected, it would be the fact that I just saw a black Mercedes, just like the one I saw in the alley so long ago: Michael's car, pass by on our left. I almost missed it; it was obscured by the hoods of other cars beside us and was racing the opposite way as us. My breath catches.
What was Michael up to? Where was he going and where was he coming back from? I just hope to god I'd mistaken another car.
And then my heart starts to pound. I think back to our meeting at the hotel yesterday, right before Luke had woken up. I need to tell Luke he's here. In California, with us. I just need to get him somewhere alone.
"Can we stop for coffee?" I interrupt suddenly, feeling stuffy inside the small vehicle. I point at a Starbucks I see a few blocks down. "Please, Luke? Can I get something? I'm really thirsty."
"Maybe later, Lissa. We're almost there, aren't we?" Luke says distractedly. He's only looking forward, his eyes focusing on the scenery outside. We pull into a quiet neighbourhood with Victorian-style houses and windy alleyways. "1268," Luke repeats the house number to the driver.
I gulp. "Luke, I have to tell you something important. Michael is-"
"Don't talk about Michael." Luke shudders. "You're totally ruining my mood."
"No, really, Luke, I just saw him-"
"We're here!" Luke announces. He nearly jumps up from his seat and eagerly hands the driver a fifty dollar bill. "Keep all of it," he says generously, getting out of the car. I follow him out, and the taxi drives away. Luke and I look up at the wavering white house in front of us.
"Are you ready?" He asks me, taking in a deep breath.
I nod reluctantly, and we head up the stairs together.
Luke is the one to ring the bell.
When no one opens the door on the first try, he tries twice more. The sound rings through the house. No sign of anyone inside.
Luke's lips turn down.
Our eyes meet.
Then suddenly we hear the sound of the lock opening.
The door swings open to reveal an African-American woman with curly hair. Immediately, I take a liking to her soft eyes. There's something about her that's just comforting for no reason.
"Hello," she says curiously. "Who are you?"
It takes Luke a second to get the starstruck look out of his eyes and start talking.
"Uh, Luke." He laughs nervously. "Of course, you don't remember me. I'm sorry." He sticks out a hesitant hand and the nurse shakes it.
"We met briefly two years ago, in January. You were the head nurse for a little girl, around fourteen years old. I visited a few times, but now I've come back looking for her," Luke explains, making me suspect he's practiced this line.
The woman stares at Luke for a second, then shortly at me. "Come in," she says.
The two of us follow her inside the house, into a living room with two plush couches and a tacky purple carpet. She appears with a pot of tea and some cups, motioning at us to sit down before settling in herself.
Luke is too anxious to sit down properly. He can't stay still. "Do you remember her?" He asks as the nurse busies herself with pouring the tea.
"Just a second," she says to him. Looking up, she glances at me in a strange, sad way that makes me feel like crying.
Feeling awkward, I start to blush.
"I'm sorry. You just remind me of someone I used to know," she says soulfully.
Whoever it is, I guess she holds a memory for. A sad one. I don't question it.
I smile at her as she hands me the cup of tea and start to sip it nervously. Luke says no to the drink, so she puts it to her own lips instead with a shrug.
"Now, honey, I'm going to need a name," she says to Luke in a levelled voice.
"We don't...know, exactly. She was about this tall, chubby, a little on the round side. Shoulder-length blond hair and brown eyes. Needed a wheelchair. I saw her for less than a week before she disappeared. You were always with her. You would know where she is. Right?" Luke's voice takes on a strangely desperate tone.
"Yes. I know who you're talking about," she admits, making Luke jump forward a little in his seat.
"And?" He asks.
The nurse takes another painfully long sip from her cup.
Luke grows anxious at the woman's unresponsive state. The weirdly ecstatic mood he was in before is gone. Now he's replaced by a desperate, childish expression. "Please, what happened to the girl?" He begs, his voice breaking.
My heart breaks at the sound. We both look at Eunice, as she sets down the cup of tea with shaking hands.
"I'm not sure I should disclose that kind of information to you."
"Please," Luke says again. "We traveled here from Canada. I've been waiting for two years. We finally found you. Can't you please-" he takes in a shuddering breath. "Forget where she is. Just tell us if she's alive or not. That's all I want to know. Please."
Eunice takes in a deep breath.
"She's dead, child. She has been, for a long time."
My heart drops. Luke's body freezes over, his eyes going misty.
"On the last day she was with us, she showed an unresponsive state to the medication. No one knew why. She delved into a coma, and we were pumping air through her lungs for hours. Nothing could stabilize her. There was more internal bleeding, and by the time she was taken to emergency aid, she was dead."
Dead silence fills the room. Luke's face twitches. His entire face is red.
I reach over, overcoming my shyness, to find his hand. I don't know what else to do.
He pushes it away and stands up, his knees shaking.
"She's dead," he says quietly, as if questioning her.
"I'm sorry," the nurse replies, unable to meet his eyes.
"No. No, you're lying," he says, his face crumpling. "No. No. No. No."
"I'm afraid not," she says nervously, afraid that Luke is about to burst.
Red-faced and not knowing what to do, Luke runs out of the room in a fit of emotions.
"Luke," I call desperately. Turning to the nurse, I give her an apologetic look. "Thank you for having us." For as long as two minutes, actually.
"You're going to need this," she says quickly, her eyes flashing. She puts a folded piece of paper in my hands and I chase out after Luke.
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He holds it in all the way home. But on the elevator, the sobs begin.
"We're going back home," Luke declares. "Tonight." He's crying, and he's bawling, and he doesn't know what to do with himself. He won't look at me, and I can only imagine what kind of hardship he must be going through to have dedicated his life to finding someone, only to find that he never will. And for Luke to be so vulnerable in front of me, out in the open, it's making me so terrified I'm shaking.
The elevator door opens and Luke runs out into the hotel hallway.
"Luke," I say tearfully, chasing after him. "Wait!"
Running down the carpeted hallway of our floor, I grab Luke's wrist. He twists it harshly out of my grasp and turns around with a harsh look in his eyes. "Get the fuck away from me," he threatens, and I stop in my tracks, suddenly feeling small. His eyes are bloodshot and there are tears in his eyes, down his cheeks, rolling down his chin.
"I...I just want to make sure you're okay."
He scoffs loudly, hastily dragging his hands down his tear-streaked face. "God, Lissa. You're pathetic."
Tears well up in my own eyes as Luke puts the key in for our room and then slams the door behind him. There's no explanation on how I'm supposed to be gathering my belongings, and if he's ever going to let me in. Nothing. There's nothing.
I glance at the clock on my phone.
It's 9:54. Almost time to see Michael. He'd asked me to see him in the lobby at the same time as yesterday.
Feeling lost and useless for not being able to help, I walk down the stairs, wiping the stupid tears from my face, wondering why they're there when it's not like anything bad happened to me. God, I'm so weak. Luke's right. I'm a pushover and I let everyone else stomp over me. I can't even handle my own emotions.
Michael is already there, waiting for me. This time he's wearing a similar outfit as mine, covering his bright hair with a fedora and a dark jacket that cloaks his figure.
He smiles mysteriously as I approach him.
"He's going back home," I say.
"I figured as much," he says smugly, putting his hands in his pockets.
"Why were you at the nurse's house?" I demand first thing, as loud as my small voice can go. Michael grins lazily, as if he was expecting me to ask all this time, and grabs my wrist. Then he takes me out of the lobby and into the narrow hallway to the left, where a janitor has stored his cleaning supplies.
"She's not dead. I don't believe it," I keep telling him, as Michael takes off his hat and tucks it under his arm. There's something rising in my gut that began all the way back at Eunice's house, and it was doubt. As if the nurse's eyes told me something different, while her mouth told another. And it wasn't a feeling I could just ignore. All my years of being the background figure and an invisible has taught me to observe, and to study someone else. The only person that was impossible to see through was Luke. But he is the type of person who expresses his emotions and thoughts so clearly to me it's not needed. When he is angry, he strikes out in a fit of rage. When he is sad, he cries. Luke is like that.
By the way Michael doesn't reply to my question right away, I know something is up. I grab his sleeve and force him to look me in the eyes. And I see something in his blue-green eyes that I shouldn't have. I see right through him.
I step backwards with a gasp.
"Was this your plan to bring Luke home?" I ask, raising my voice. To test my accusation, to see if it's true. "To follow our search, to pay Eunice to tell him that she's dead? All this time we spent searching was for nothing?!!"
Michael opens his mouth in slight surprise, furrowing his brows. He hadn't expected me to accuse him so quickly. Then he sighs, grabbing my shoulders.
"No, no, no. I'm going to tell him," I say, pushing him away.
"Listen, Lissa," Michael pleads. "I needed a way to get him back home, quickly. Ben was getting anxious. His father was, too. You don't know how much trouble I would've been in if I didn't have him home by this week. His father...he was...angry, and he was about to burst if I didn't do something. And he's really something else."
"What?" I ask, taken aback.
"He used to beat Luke. Just a few times. But I think it was bad. Luke won't talk about it," Michael admits with pressed lips.
Oh god.
Luke, poor Luke.
Before I could react, Michael grabs me by my shoulders again, protesting. "I needed him home, Lissa."
I move out of his grasp, my emotions spinning out of control.
"But this is wrong," I tell him firmly, already forgetting his previous words. "Where is Jane, really?"
"I don't know. No one knows. But it doesn't matter. She's in love with someone else."
I pause, staring at him.
Michael smirks. "I asked Eunice. She's grown up now. She moved away to another city, met someone, fell in love. There's really nothing simpler than that."
I try to speak but he interrupts me with a hand over my mouth. New-found tears stream down my cheeks and onto his skin. "What'll be worse? Telling someone, so full of hope for a love together, that the person they've been searching for years is alive but they can't have them...or to simply tell them that they're gone?"
I can't answer that question. But I do know one thing.
"If I could bring my parents back, I would do it in a second," I say, pulling his hand away from my mouth, tears streaming down my cheeks. "Death is the worst thing that can happen to a loved one. Even to think, for a second, that they're gone-"
"This is different. You haven't felt love, for a boy, for that matter. Or heartbreak," he hisses. "I'm trying to protect him."
"This is wrong."
"Then tell him yourself, Lissa. Tell him she's alive and that she can never be with him. It's better to cut it off like this. It's easy and he'll get over it. But as long as Jane is alive and she's not with him, he'll eat himself alive." He squeezes my wrist tighter. "Sometimes when I see Amber, I think it would've been better not to have even met her. Rather than to feel this way, to know for shit she's never going to be with me. How could she, when she's in love with Luke?!!" He screams. "Sometimes, Lissa, I wish she was gone. Forever."
"Then that's not love, Michael," I tell him, looking into his passionate eyes.
Michael sighs. "Never mind that. Forget everything I said, okay? This isn't about me," he says. "Do you want to protect Luke or not?"
My heart is weak. I can't answer that question. But he knows of course, my answer is yes.
"This is for him, Lissa. I promise you're doing the right thing. You need to trust me," Michael says, stepping closer towards me. Then he adds hastily: "Just a week. Hold it for a week. If he's not better in a week, I promise we'll tell him. Okay?"
"A week," I repeat.
"A week. I promise," he replies. pulling me in for a surprising embrace. "Okay?" He asks against my ear.
My fingers curl up on his shoulders, but I don't have the strength to push him away.
"Okay," I whisper in defeat.
"Then I'll see you tomorrow. In Canada," Michael says, stepping away from me. With a wistful look towards me, he grabs his hat and cloaks himself once again. He opens the door, and walks out without looking back once.
When he leaves, I sink to my knees right there on the floor, amongst the array of mops and chemicals.
How am I supposed to look at Luke again, when I know such a terrible, dirty secret?
What am I supposed to do?
Might be making the chapters shorter from now on depending on how busy I get because hell-o I have to update 4 stories every week and I ain't going to have time for 3000 words :')
Anyway, please vote/comment if you liked this! I'll try to update more regularly. And Merry Christmas everyone xx
-Kate