chapter three
find something, find anything/say something say anything
(author's note the dance above is the solo that evan mentions later in the chapter)
mia pov
trigger warning: some conversation about suicide
I honestly was a little shook after finding out about the article. I don't really know why... I mean, so what? My dad had a friend who committed suicide, and he helped two other kids build an apple orchard. Still, it felt like a bigger deal that it was. Sure, I had already known that Susan's aunt and my dad were friends in high school, but I felt like I was finally getting more pieces together to the big puzzle of who my father was. My father never really told me anything about his past, and I kind of had to go to my grandma. Even she didn't give me every detail. I finally realized that I could learn more about my dad that what he or Grandma would tell me.
However, when I told Susan, she didn't exactly have the same amount of excitement.
"Well, that explains a lot..." she said, "But are you taking Aidan?"
"No," I told her, "But, I mean, isn't this exciting?"
"I mean, if I wanted to know more about Aunt Alana, I would just ask her. She's never said anything about the orchard, but I don't care... No offense..." Susan replied.
It kind of sucked, though, because Susan doesn't understand what I'm going through with this. She never had to wonder who her parents were, or what her father's mental health state was. She never had to worry about her dad going through something awful before her own eyes, and she would barley know. Nonetheless, I kept quiet. I didn't want my friends to get too annoyed by my personal matters.
Therefore, when I got home, I took it upon myself to do a little research. I, of course, wasn't going to ask my father all about this stuff. He wouldn't answer any of my questions. I don't even know how he would react? My dad never really got mad or anything, and I don't think he would this time. Then again, I never got into trouble that much, but I used my better judgement and decided to keep quiet.
I quickly took out my laptop and Googled "Connor Murphy" and the name of my city, just to be sure.
Teen's Suicide Prompts a Student Group, Dedicated to Keeping his Memory Alive...
You Will Be Found" Teens Create Organization to Show that Everyone Matters...
The headlines and articles were all the same. No real interviews or anything. Just quotes from their videos. I figured my next search should, be "The Connor Project". I Googled "The Connor Project", but all I could find were articles and stuff. I couldn't find the official website or anything. I couldn't find any of the videos that were mentioned in the articles, either. The only evidence of the Connor Project ever existing was in the articles. I found that a bit odd, but then again, it was 20 years ago. Websites from that long ago are pretty hard to find.
Chris is probably one of the most tech savvy people I know. He fixes computers during the summer, and he always worked the audio for school events. It's actually kind of cool, because he was given a key to the school, so he could really go whenever he wanted. Sometimes, when there was nothing else for the three of us to do, we would just walk around the school and talk. I'm sure Chris would find something about The Connor Project.
When the doorbell rang, indicating that Chris was at my house, I took my computer from my room, and into the living room, which was connected to the front hall. I set the computer down on the couch, and opened the door for Chris to come in.
"Is your dad home? Because I don't know if he would appreciate us researching his dead best friend..." Chris said, as soon as I opened the door.
"No... He's getting home at seven..." I told Chris, "And if he was here, I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate you screaming about his 'dead best friend.'" I lead Chris in, and he sat down on the couch with me, as I opened up the laptop.
"Here," I said, as I gave Chris the laptop. Chris quickly opened up Google and started digging. He started by googling "The Connor Project", as I did before. I actually did look over his shoulder for a while, but he hit the same dead ends as I did. When he couldn't find anything else, he cursed under his breath, but then he had a lightbulb go off in his mind, I could tell.
"Does your laptop have virus protection?" Chris asked, waving the cursor over the search bar.
"I think so... Why?" I replied, getting a little worried.
"Because I might head to the dark web... I could see if any of my hacker friends can find it..." Chris said starting to type something into the search bar.
"You know what? I think I'm good..." I said, taking my laptop away from Chris.
"If you have virus protection, though, it should be fine..." Chris told me.
"Well, sketchland-dot-com isn't going to have information on a memorial foundation..." I retorted.
"You never know..." Chris said.
"I don't know if I want to risk that, though," I told Chris.
"Okay... I'll try to get more information, though. If I can't search anything, then maybe my followers can..." Chris said, typing a website I've never heard of into the search bar. A website popped up, that didn't look too sketch. It looked like it had a pretty good budget, but not enough to make is the most professional website.
"Is this your... blog?" I asked, unsure of what to call it.
"Theoretically, yes. It's like a bit of a forum and a blog. I don't usually post this stuff, but I can tell how much this means to you, so I'm just going to post something and ask my followers if they know anything..." Chris said, as he typed out a new post on his blog/forum.
Okay, so I know I normally don't post these, things, but I need a little bit of help, for my friend... A little more than 20 years ago, there was a student group, called "The Connor Project, which was a memorial for a teenager, Connor Murphy, who committed suicide. My friend and I were trying to find the official website, but there is no trace of the official website or any of the videos that articles have mentioned. If anyone has information, please contact me by commenting down below, or personal messaging me. Please, this is really important for my friend, and we would really appreciate the help!~Cool Chris
"Did you really just call yourself 'Cool Chris?'" I asked, as he posted the message.
"I will delete this, Mia. I swear..." Chris said.
"Thank you, Cool Chris..." I said, laughing.
"No problem," Chris said, getting up, "I kinda have to go, but I'll let you know if anyone says anything, at school..."
"Okay... Thanks Chris..." I replied.
"Anytime," Chris said as he left the house.
☼☼☼
evan pov
Mia quit dance when she was fifteen. I remember her talking to me about this one day. Although I supported this decision, I kind of didn't want her to quit. She said she still loved dance, but she wanted to focus on her studies, and I couldn't exactly say no to that.
Mia's teachers let her perform a solo at her final recital, since she had spent 11 years of her life, dancing at that studio. She was never on the competitive team, though she was offered a spot. She choreographed the solo with one of her teachers. I was never given any details about the solo. All I new is that it was a contemporary solo. I wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but I was still excited to see my daughter dance.
Over the years, I had asked and begged Mia's mother to come to one of her recitals. Mia's mother, however, told me that she could never bring herself to see Mia dance. This was my final chance to get her to come, and probably the last chance Mia's mother would get to see our daughter dance.
I never exactly knew if Mia's mom was going to go to the recital or not. I tried not to think about it, whenever Mia was around, but it's always hard not to think about Mia's mom whenever I saw Mia. I saw some of the resemblance in Mia's face and personality. Along with her mother's nose, Mia had her mom's spunk and determination. Mia's hair was the perfect mix of mine and her mother's. And Mia's smile... Gosh, I saw Mia's mom is that smile. It was subtle, and perfect, and just... real...
The day of the recital, I dropped Mia off at the stagedoor. I never really went in with Mia, mostly because I wasn't sure if dads were supposed to go to the dressing rooms. Mia was always alright, though. She learned to do her makeup when she was 8, and before that, the other moms would help her. Now that Mia was a teenager, I didn't have too many worries. She had her costumes, her shoes, and her makeup, and if she needed anything, she could text me or ask one of the other moms. I always trusted Mia. She was smart, and careful.
I still was unaware of whether or not Mia's mother was coming, until around 10 minutes before curtain. My phone started to rig, so I, picked it up, knowing who it was.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Hey, um, I just got here, and I was wondering if you miraculously had a seat next to you?"
"Yeah... Way ahead of you," I said, glancing over at the empty seat, that I put an extra program on.
"Great, I'm headed in now..." Mia's mother said.
"Okay, I'll see you," I told her.
"See you..." she said, as the phone call ended.
When Mia's mom finally got to my seat, she gave me a giant hug. It was more friendly than romantic at the time, but it took me back to our actual relationship. Mia's mother and I hadn't really put a label on our relationship since Mia was born... As I saw it, we weren't exactly Friends with Benefits... we were... PG Friends with Benefits, I guess. I honestly was just happy that we decided to see each other at Mia's dance recital, since there wouldn't be too much talking required.
Mia's solo was toward the end of the recital. We saw her tap number first, then her jazz and ballet classes next, with some other classes in between. I felt a bit bad for Mia's mother, since she was watching some of the classes for little kids dance, and Mia's mom missed that opportunity to see Mia dance like that. I didn't feel too bad, though, because Mia's Mother had the opportunity to see Mia at her best.
When Mia came out for her solo, Mia's mother instantly grabbed my hand (despite it being only slightly sweaty). Tears started to form in my eyes, as Mia started to dance, and I could tell the same thing was happening with her mother. Her solo was absolutely beautiful. As Mia's father, this was one of my most proudest moments for my daughter.
When the solo ended, Mia's mother and I started a standing ovation, and the rest of the audience was quick to follow. I don't know if people knew Mia was leaving or not. She was pretty well-known around the studio, despite not being in their company.
As the applause started to die down, and Mia left the stage (I couldn't tell if Mia was crying or not, as she exited), her mother looked to me and smiled. I could tell she had been bawling her eyes out.
"That's our daughter..." Her mother choked out.