Grief is the last act of love we can give to those we loved. Where there is deep grief there was deep love - Unknown
Finally... the end of the school day arrived.
Jon and I waited for all the students to rush out, before gathering our things and beginning the trek to our lockers.
"What are we watching tonight?" Jon asked, taking my textbooks from me before I could protest.
"I can carry my own books, you know?" He simply shrugged. "Anyway, there's a documentary on the Black Dahlia tonight. I've been dying to watch it."
"You've been dying to watch it?" He snickered.
The look on my face clearly said 'Really?'
"I know, I know. Bad joke." He chuckled to himself. "Bakery first?"
"Of course. Do you not know me?"
After school we went to my mom's bakery. But, on the weekends before our crime marathon, we'd stock up on tons of baked goods.
Whatever mom didn't sell, she'd bring home for us to pig out on.
Of course, we still buy things from time to time.
We finally reached the bakery, he opened the door, allowing me in first.
Oooh, what a gentleman. No, I'm just kidding. Jon's always been super courteous; carrying my things for me, opening doors, and overall just being there.
"Hey mom." "Hey Mrs. Masterson." We greeted my mom who stood in the front, dealing with a customer.
"Hey sweethearts," she said, walking over to us after helping her customer, pulling up a chair. "So what's this weekend's crime?" she teased playfully, knowing full well that our idea of fun often involved binge-watching true crime documentaries.
"Black Dahlia," Jon answered.
"Ooo. Sounds fun. Well, enjoy. Do you two want anything?"
I looked at Jonathan.
1!2!3!
"Maple pecan doughnut!" We said in unison.
My mom made an array of delectable treats, but her maple pecan doughnut was hands down one of our favourites.
The sweet glistening maple flavoured caramel on a cinnamon doughnut, topped with roasted pecans. It was pure bliss in every bite. Mmm, my mouth is watering just thinking about it.
She chuckled. "Coming right up."
As she went to get our doughnuts, Jon turned to me. "Have you asked your mom if she knew or heard anything about the disappearances?"
I shook my head. "With Miranda's disappearance, I kind of forgot. Plus I only found out about them."
"Do you think we should ask her?"
I shrugged. "It's worth a shot."
Just then my mom returned with our doughnuts. "Here you go."
"Hey mom?" She turned to me. "Jon and I were doing research for a project we're doing for school. We came across a ton of disappearances that happened here. Over one hundred women and girls... gone."
She didn't answer straight away, instead fidgeting with her hands.
Finally, she took a deep breath and looked at us. "I did... know about the disappearances."
"Why would you and dad stay here?" I asked.
"Your father and I had a dream. Mine was the bakery. His was his bike shop. Plus, when we found out I was pregnant with you, we wanted to raise you where we grew up."
Before my dad died, he owned a bike shop. Everyone in town knew it was the best place in town to get your bike, or car, fixed.
"Did you know any of the people who went missing?"
"Three girls from our school went missing. Hope Walters and Chloe Brooks. I didn't know either of them personally. I only saw them in passing."
"What about the third girl?"
"Huh?" She broke free from a daze.
"You said there was a third girl. Who was she?"
I could see her looking around, as if trying to avoid the question.
"Mom?" I grabbed her hands, forcing her to look at me. "Who was she?"
A single tear ran down her cheek.
"Her name was Elena Phillips." She detached her hands from mine, wiping her eyes, desperately trying to hold back more tears. "She was your father and I's best friend."
Oh my god.
"Mom, I'm so sorry. I had no idea."
I handed her a napkin, which she used to wipe her eyes.
"It's okay sweetheart. There's no way you could have known."
"Did they find her?" I asked, hesitantly.
She shook her head. "No. They thought she ran away. No matter how much we all told them that Elena wouldn't have done that."
I got up from my seat, now sitting next to my mom, hugging her and rubbing her shoulders.
I remember one time when I was five or six, I couldn't sleep.
It was pouring down rain outside, with occasional claps of thunder and flashes of lighting.
I usually love lightning but I couldn't stand thunder.
I went downstairs to get a glass of water. Instead I was disrupted by the sound of sobbing. My mother's sobbing to be exact.
She was sitting in the kitchen looking at what appeared to be a photo album. Tears were freefalling down her flushed cheeks.
I poked my head in, "Mom?"
Immediately she perked up, wiping the tears, and putting on a smile.
"Hey honey. What are you doing up?"
"I couldn't sleep."
Just then a clap of thunder sounded, causing me to jump.
"Come here," my mom said, arms open.
I instantly ran and jumped into her arms.
"Why were you crying mommy?"
"Me? It's nothing darling. I was just looking at old photos."
I looked over at the album that now sat on the kitchen island.
It was opened to a picture of my mom and dad. Only there was another girl with them. They were all smiling really big at whoever was taking the picture.
"Who's that with you and daddy?"
"That's your Auntie Elena."
At this point, I could not remember meeting Auntie Elena.
"How come she doesn't come over?"
My mom inhaled deeply. "She moved away a long time ago." Then, she switched on a dime. "Now, let's get you some water and off to bed, little missy."
"Okay mommy."
Then she took me back upstairs and stayed with me until I fell back to sleep.
"I remember now. You were looking at a photo of the three of you and crying." I looked at her. "You told me she moved away."
"You were five. I couldn't exactly tell you she went missing in the same town we live in." She huffed. "Besides, I told myself she went off and met some amazing guy, got married and had a family."
"Do you believe it?" Jon asked.
"Does it matter?" She asked. "I've told myself that story to keep myself sane. They haven't found her body. Maybe she's still out there." Her voice sounded far away, as if she were reminiscing.
"I'm sorry for bringing it up," I apologized again.
"It's okay," she said. She stood up, patting down her apron. "Well, I'll leave you guys to it."
"Okay mom. Thanks again."
"Yeah. Thanks Mrs. Masterson."
I turned to Jon once she was back behind the counter. "I feel so bad," I told him, grimacing. "I had no idea I'd be opening an old wound."
"Like your mom said, you had no idea. She knows you didn't mean to bring up painful memories," Jon assured me, rubbing my shoulders.
As he was comforting me, the bell attached to the door sounded.
We both turned to see who had entered. Surprisingly, it was the new kid. Damon.
He only arrived here yesterday and we've only ever seen him around school.
While I've only seen him a handful of times, I have yet to see him without his black beanie. In fact, his whole outfit was black. Shirt, jeans, shoes, jacket, everything.
Looks like I'm not the only one in this town who really loves black.
He had dark brown windswept hair and crystal blue eyes. The most noticeable feature, however, was a scar on his left cheek. I hadn't gotten close enough to see it clearly, but it resembles a crescent. Almost like a fist or a ring.
We watched as he looked around for an empty seat.
"We should invite him over," I proposed.
"Are you sure?" Jon asked. "We don't even know him."
"Exactly. He's probably feeling awkward. He's the new kid in town, probably doesn't know anyone."
While I may hate interacting with anyone other than Jonathan, I also know how it feels to be by myself. Jon couldn't be with me whenever I needed him. Though it was pretty close.
Overall, he's new and you can tell he's sort of like me. Which, with history as an indication, would likely make him a target of the jocks.
"Fine," he sighed.
I waved my hand high, trying to catch Damon's attention.
Finally, his eyes met mine and I waved him over.
He looked around, almost as if trying to see who I could be talking to.
When he pointed to himself, I nodded, letting out a small laugh.
Jonathan sat up straight as he made his way towards us at a snail like pace.
Jon's super protective state wasn't anything new. It's simply how he is, even more so with Miranda's disappearance and finding out about all the other women and girls who went missing.
I elbowed his chest, causing it to deflate and him to rub it, mumbling, "Ow."
When Damon reached our booth, I gestured for him to sit down, which he did.
He looked between the two of us, as if he were waiting for one of us to speak.
I decided I'd make the first move. "Hey Damon," I waved, with a smile, trying to allow him to feel more relaxed. "I'm Harley and this is Jonathan."
"I know," was all he said, fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He looked up, seeing me with furrowed brows. "I mean I heard both of your names before. We're in the same English class."
Right. Now that I think about it, I remember him being in our class this afternoon.
I went to answer when through the corner of my eye, I saw someone staring at me.
Turning my body, I noticed it appeared to be a freshman girl from our school.
As soon as our eyes met, her eyes darted to her lap.
I rolled my eyes, turning back to Damon and Jonathan.
What? Hasn't she seen someone with lip piercings before?
Chill, I reminded myself. She's probably just curious.
"Sorry." I told Damon. "I remember now. So, when did you arrive in Willow Creek?"
"More importantly," Jonathan chimed in. "Why?"
His tone was almost passive aggressive. I've never seen him act like this, not even with the jocks at school who loved to tease me.
I looked at him, silently asking him what was wrong. He only shrugged.
I brushed it off, turning my attention back to Damon.
"I think he means, what brought you to good 'ol Willow Creek?"
"Um... My dad grew up here. He wanted to show me where he grew up."
"Even with all the disappearances?" Jonathan asked, his voice less aggressive this time.
"Disappearances?"
"You mean, you don't know?" Damon shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah, over the last near two centuries, over 100 women and girls have gone missing from dear old Willow Creek."
"Missing? As in gone?"
"As in many of them never turned up. Those who did, were never alive."
I could see Damon was trying to put on a front, acting like he wasn't perturbed. Though I saw him gulp, his adam's apple bulged.
I pushed Jon jokingly. "Jon. Quite trying to scare him." I looked at Damon. "I'm sure you've heard about Miranda Hutchins."
"The name sounds familiar." He said, clearly wracking his brain.
"She's a girl from our school." Jonathan paused, letting it register. "She's just been reported missing."
Damon's eyes widened slightly. "You mean it's still happening?" We nodded. "Why don't you guys just move?"
"Everyone has their reasons," Jonathan said, shutting him down. "I'm sure you understand."
What is up with him today? He's been acting really weird. Ever since... Damon joined us.
"Damon. Would you excuse us for a second?" Not waiting for an answer, I grabbed Jon by the sleeve of his t-shirt, dragging him to the back of the bakery.
I spun around, punching his shoulder. "What is up with you?"
"First, ow." He said. "Second, we don't know him. Anything about him."
"That was kind of the point of inviting him to sit with us. To get to know him and make him feel welcome."
He sighed, looking down dejectedly at his sneakers.
"I know."
"Then what's wrong? You don't usually act like this."
"I guess I'm just worried if you got to know him, you'd find things in common, and we may not get to spend as much time together. It's the one thing that makes sense; you and me."
Ohhhh. Now it all makes sense. He's afraid of losing me to other friends, or rather a new friend.
He hasn't had to worry about this before. I was the town "weirdo", so it's not like I had people lining up down the block to be my friend. He hasn't had any competition for my attention.
Maybe he thinks because Damon and I have similar styles, fashion wise, we'll become best friends and he'll be forgotten.
"Is that what you think?" He nodded, not meeting my eye. I placed my hand on his cheek, rubbing it, causing him to look into my eyes. "I couldn't forget about you even if I tried. Not when you've been the only person who'd talk to me, the only one who celebrated my birthday with me. You've protected me... from everything and everyone."
I saw a smile slowly form on his face.
I removed my hand from his cheek, sliding my hands into his. "You don't have to worry about losing me, okay? If anything I'd have to worry about losing you."
"I wouldn't leave you."
I smiled. "I'm glad to hear you say that. Now, come on. Let's go back inside. Please try to be nice this time."
He raised his hands mockingly.
I leaned on my tippy toes, planting a kiss on his cheek and tousling his jet black hair, before heading for the back door.
I turned around, realizing he wasn't behind me. He stood in the same spot, holding his cheek.
"You coming?" I shouted.
He shook his head, before running over to me and we walked back inside.
When we arrived back at our booth, it was empty. Where'd Damon go?
I took a quick look around for him, but he was nowhere to be seen.
"Great job," I jokingly pushed Jon. "You scared him away."
"You really need to stop hitting me." I looked at him with an expression that clearly said 'what'. "I mean, sorry."
I nodded before hearing hushed whispers. Only they sounded heated.
Whoever it was, was clearly angry but was either trying to keep their voice down or reel in their frustration.
"Do you hear that?" I asked. He nodded and we began searching for the source of the voices.
As we neared my mom's office, the voices got louder.
Her door was cracked, and we peered inside.
There was my mom. She appeared to be arguing with another woman.
"Don't act like you cared about her Karen." My mom spewed, her voice laced with venom.
I can't remember the last time I saw my mom this angry.
But, Karen?
"Isn't that Kirsty's mom's name?" Jon nodded.
What was she doing here?
"You and Harry weren't the only ones who cared about her. You weren't her only friends."
Could she be talking about Elena?
"Ha! You were never her friend. All you did was get her into trouble."
Trouble?
"Is that what this is about? You didn't like that she was spending time with me instead of you?"
"You know that it's much deeper than that. You introduced her to him."
Him? Who is him?
"She never had to do anything she didn't want to. She could have left at any time."
What in the world are they talking about?
Just as we continued to listen in on the conversation, we heard a voice behind us. "Oi. What do you two think you're doing?"
It was Jenna. One of my mom's employee's.
"Um... nothing. We were just going to talk to my mom. But it seems like she's busy. We'll talk to her later."
With that, we rushed back to our booth once more.
We watched as about ten minutes later, Kirsty's mom exited my mom's office, heading for the exit.
Not before stopping at our table.
"I'd watch my back if I were you," she leaned in. "I know what you're doing. You'll only get yourself into something you can't get out of. Just ask your mother."
Then she simply walked away, taking her leave, getting into her car, and skidding off.
Once she left my mom approached us. "Are you two okay? I saw Kirsty's mom over here. She wasn't bothering you, was she?"
I fidgeted, wrestling with asking her about the conversation in her office.
Looking at Jonathan, he discreetly shook his head.
I turned back to my mom.
"No. She was just asking if we'd seen her daughter."
"Okay. Make sure you two tell me if she bothers either of you. Alright?"
We nodded.
"I'm going to get back to work. Do you want anything else before I do?"
We looked at one another before turning back to her and shaking our heads.
"Okay. Enjoy your night. I'll be home around ten tonight."
We nodded as she walked away.
All I could think of was that conversation between my mom and Kirsty's. What was it about? Why was it so heated?
By the look on his face, I could see it was all Jon could think of too.
Finally, we decided to do a little work to get a head start ahead of our weekend marathon, which meant... No work! Only crime documentaries.