Page 141 of Withered

“He’ll come around,” I assure her.

“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow. Tell me about that dress,” she says this before hanging up.

I put my phone down and glance out the window. Jake hasn’t returned, and he is not answering his phone. Every time something like this happens, he returns home injured, and worse, he refuses to tell me who he fought. It can’t be someone from school. Nobody looks injured or bruised. If Jake got into a fight with someone, I’m sure the other guy would come out significantly worse than Jake.

I stay up longer than usual, with the clock reading half past twelve. Someone knocks on my door, and I open it to let Mom in. “I thought you slept.”

“Shouldn’t you be asleep? You have school tomorrow.” She yawns.

I scan around my room and, luckily, find a book on my desk. I must have forgotten to keep it back. “I was reading.” I point at the book.

She says, “Get some sleep. Read tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

I turn off all the lights in my room at night so she wouldn’t come in again. The clock shows fifteen minutes to one, then half past one, then two, and I lose track of time as my eyes close and I drift off to sleep.

My ringtone wakes me up the next morning, and I get ready, not caring much about the outfit. For breakfast, I skip my juice and ask for a nice cup of hot coffee.

“This is why you shouldn’t be allowed to stay up so late,” Mom mutters under her breath, but it is audible to me.

“Sorry, Mom,” I mumble, yawning again.

“I’m throwing away your books,” Mom declares sternly.

This is every book lover’s worst nightmare. My imagination runs wild as I imagine Mom packing my books and sending them in Goodwill boxes.No.

My head shoots up, and I snap out of my sleep. “You’re joking, right?”

“Try me again by staying up late.” My mother hands me a cup of coffee.

I catch Kristy and Tyler in the parking lot. “Hey, Tyler!”

Tyler waves. Kristy stomps her feet, saying, “I’ve been her best friend for more than a decade, but she greets you first.”

I almost laugh out loud at her behavior. My gaze shifts to Tyler again. “Do you happen to know where Jake is?”

“No. I tried to call him yesterday, but it went to voicemail,” Tyler says, looking at me confusingly.

I nod. “Okay, now go away. I need to catch up with this baby here.” I point my finger at Kristy.

Tyler chuckles and wraps his arm around Kristy. “She’s my baby.”

“Yeah. Now go,” I say, and Kristy teases him by shrugging his hand off her shoulder.

He leaves whining like a child. Kristy catches me up, talking about Tyler’s parents, and I tell her about my dress.

When the bell sounds, we part ways, and my eyes are desperately looking for only one person…Jake.

Ihaven’tseenJakein four days. I just can’t get through to him. I’ve lost track of how many messages I’ve sent him. Numerous calls went to his voicemail, and the only thing that kept me sane was his voice.

His voice went,“Hey, this is Jake. Wasn’t there to take your call? How about you leave your name and your message? If you’re lucky enough, I’ll call you back.”

Every time I dial him, I hope he’d pick up the phone and rush home. But every time after that, I fall flat on my face in disappointment.

Jake’s mother, on the other hand, is not concerned about what is going on. When I got home from school on Monday, I asked her where he was, and she answered, quote, “He’ll be back.”

Every day after school, I stop by his house, only to hear the same words: “He does that frequently. He’ll change his mind. Don’t stress yourself.”

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