Used

[blatentlyobvious]

This story is darker than the rest of mine. It's not related to the others, so you know ahead of time. It gets dark quickly. I tried to cut back on the descriptiveness, but it might be hard to read. There is language too. I do hope you like it though.




One-

We pulled up to the massive house. My heart was beating rapidly in anticipation
for this awesome grad party. DJ parked the car and got out. I turned to Jen in the
back seat.

“Ready?” I said.

“You know it!” She answered. We opened the door and walked inside with DJ
behind us.

A little background history on my two best friends and I. DJ, who is eighteen and
probably one of the most attractive guys in the graduating class, has been by my
side since third grade. His real name, which he hates, is Desmond Junior Klein. His
dad named him after Desmond Beatty, a baseball player whose career ran one year
with the New York Giants. His parents were both fans of baseball and found the
name before DJ was born. Even though he might be damn good looking, I have
never been able to see DJ as more than a friend.

Jen has been with me for two years. We met in our creative writing elective in
grade eleven and after getting to know her, found out she was like my long lost
counter part. She was humble and sweet, but loved to have fun. I don’t remember a whole lot about how we started being friends; I’ve just always remembered that we were.

As for myself, I wish I could say I was a little more interesting. I had my
eighteenth birthday two weeks ago to the day. I'm an achiever; not over, nor
under. I just achieve. My family only consists of my parents and myself. My mom
is an executive at an architectural company. My dad, who I wish I knew better, is
a history teacher at Edgemont University. I have one dog. My life is simple and I
planned on keeping it that way, except for tonight.

The place was packed with everyone I had spent the last four years of school with.
A few faces I didn’t recognize were scattered here and there, but I knew that
everyone who was here had formal invitations, which were only provided by the
host, who was well respected. It was the big “after-grad grad.”

Jen tugged on my arm, pulling me away from my thoughts and to the dance floor.
She, DJ and I spent a good couple of songs dancing together before DJ was swept
away by Claire Gregorvich from our Spanish class. Jen stayed with me while Video
Killed The Radio Star blasted through the hidden speakers.

“Hey Jen! You up for a dance?” We both turned to see Mike Thomas standing
beside us. Jen threw me a questioning look. I nodded my head smiling. There
were lots of people here that I could hang out and talk to.

“Yeah, alright.” She replied blushing. I also wasn’t about to stop her from having
an awesome time. I waved and walked away, leaving the floor to them. I was
wandering around the house, occasionally stopping to talk to a few people, most of
who were already drunk, when I bumped into a familiar face. A guy from my
Advanced English class, Noah Rauflee.

“Noah.” I said with a faint. He laughed at nothing and all I could smell was beer. I
rolled my eyes and stopped smiling. I tried to walk away and I was unsuccessful as
he tried to start a conversation.

“Hey Chelsea.” He said looking genuinely happy to see me. His words weren’t
slurred yet and I assumed he wasn’t as drunk as he smelled. “It’s really nice to
see you. You look beautiful.” He said grazing over my body with his eyes. I
blushed and looked away, pretending I was searching the room for someone else.
I felt his hand rest on my arm. “You want a beer?” He asked. I nodded and he
pulled me to the kitchen. I watched as he popped open a can and poured it into a
red cup. I looked out from the kitchen and could see DJ. I met his eyes and
waved. He nodded and started towards the kitchen but was held up when he ran
into a few girls. I sighed and returned my attention to Noah. He gave me the cup
and I took a sip.

This party had not been what I expected. There was no excitement and by the
time I downed my second beer, everyone around me was drunk. Noah wasn’t as
bad, but it seemed like he was trying to stay focused on me. I wasn’t sure exactly
how much he had to drink, but he was ahead of me. I hadn’t seen Jen or DJ for at
least half an hour, but I really hoped they were having an awesome time. I hoped
I would be too, but right now I was ready to fall asleep.

“You-“ Noah started as we walked down the crowed hall. There were so many
people that to get by you had to be pressed against the wall. “You wanna uh go
up-“ He paused for a second trying hard to get over his stumbling. I think he
finally gave up and pointed to the stairs. I looked around and saw DJ and Jen
dancing together, but also scanning the room. I nodded to Noah thinking that it
had to be better than hanging out down here, squished against the walls. Noah
took my hand and guided me up the stairs and he tripped a few times causing me
to jolt a bit. He was laughing by the time we reached the top.

“You’re so…” He trailed off running a shaky hand threw my hair. I felt him press
me up against a door and felt the knob press into my back. He was a bit unstable
himself as he leaned close to me. “You’re so pretty.” He said grinning. I started to
get chills, and not the good kind. My level of comfort was way below normal and I
looked around frantically for someone, anyone to get me away from here.

“Oh!” He said turning the doorknob behind me, laughing again. “What’s in here?
Oh, look Chels we can sit down.” He said as we walked into the dark room.

“Noah, I should go find DJ and Jen. They’re my ride home.” I said eying the bed. I really hoped that he didn’t have anything in mind.

“No, no, no, no, no, no. No.” He said. Yeah, he was definitely drunk now. He
pushed me gently onto the bed and I sat. He was big, and I was starting to get
scared. “I want to talk to you.” He said quietly as he shut and LOCKED the door
behind him.

I swallowed hard. He sat down beside me and I tried to stand up, but he grabbed me harshly by the shoulders and pushed me back onto the bed. “Don’t go, come on. I want to get to know you. You’re so wonderful.” He said as his fingers dug
into my skin. I winced and he saw it. He wasn’t fazed as he reached to my chest
and started unbuttoning my shirt. I froze. The alcohol running threw my blood
made my mind stop. I didn’t know what to do. He reached for me and pressed his
mouth to mine. It wasn’t nice at all and his teeth were clashing against mine. He
started to move me, pushing me down onto the bed and leaning over me. I tried
to push him off, but he fought back and started to take my clothes off. I struggled now trying to find an ounce of strength to fight this guy off. He was too forceful as his removed his own shirt and pants. I was bare in front of him and I started to cry.

I was still resisting as he lowered his bare hips to mine. I tried to scream but he
placed his hand over my mouth. He moved his hips back and forth sharply
pushing himself into me. It burned and stung and it felt as though he was ripping
me apart. He ground into me as I did everything I could to fight him through the
searing pain. I continued to scream into his hand and managed to bit it making
him wince.

“HELP!” I screamed as loud as I could, shoving Noah. He was in me and I wanted him gone. It hurt too much. I needed to be free from his weight, from him. I felt a sting across my face that shut me up. He hit me hard enough to stun me and
started thrusting himself between my legs again. I could feel tears streaming down my face as the pain increased along with the sound of Noah’s moaning.

All I could do now was cry. I felt weak and hopeless as I looked into Noah’s eyes,
seeing the brutally. I knew he wouldn’t stop until he was finished. But it hurt so
much that I strained myself to fight back with the last bit of force I had. He had my arms pined above my head with one hand and the other over my mouth. I shook my head back and forth, trying again to free my mouth so I could call for help.

Suddenly the door was kicked open and Noah was pulled away from me. He was being beaten on the floor. The room was dark and through my tears I couldn’t see who the person was, but I was happy to have him away from me. I pulled on my skirt and top, forgetting about my panties and ran out of the room in piercing pain
between my legs. Jen was right outside the door with a terrified look on her face.
I ran to her arms and felt my whole body shaking.

“It hurts.” I cried into her shoulder. She held me tight for a moment and then loosened her grip. She yelled over my shoulder into the bedroom.

“DJ GET OUT HERE NOW, BEFORE YOU KILL HIM.” She yelled. There was no one
but us around to hear her booming voice, and the music was too loud to hear
anything downstairs. DJ was in there. He was the one who stopped that Bastard.
I could hear him yelling now at Noah, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn my head
and look. DJ finally came out and walked Jen and I downstairs.

“Don’t look at anyone, just go to the car.” He whispered in my ear. Still on edge, his deep voice made me shake harder. We all exited the house and stepped up
the pace when we were out. I would have run to the car but the pain inside me
was too great. Jen climbed into the back seat with me and wrapped her arms
around me.

We drove in silence the whole way to Jen’s house. It was pre-arranged that I would be sleeping at her place tonight, which was better than being with my parents right now.

Driving, I realized how I felt. I felt disgusting and dirty, and used. I didn’t have
my virginity anymore, which I had planned to keep for a lot longer, and I felt like
second hand now. No one would want me ever again. People would shun me for this. Does this make me a slut? That I was stupid enough to even consider going
upstairs? I felt my body begin to shake again. We were at Jens house and for the first time I could see DJ’s eyes. He was staring at me, frightened and shocked,
through the rear view mirror. Jen took my hand and we got out of DJ’s car. She
said something to him and he drove away.

We went inside and right up to Jen’s room. I could still feel the pain between my legs and right then, I wanted more than anything to get out of these clothes and
burn them.

“Can I borrow some clothes?” I asked Jen looking at her bedroom floor. I felt
ashamed for what had happened. It kept replaying in my mind.

“Yeah, go ahead. I’ll go get some blankets.” She said quietly. She left her room
and closed the door as I grabbed underwear, sweats and a sweater from her
dresser. When she returned I was against her bed, soaking her clothes with my
tears. She sat down beside me and started to cry as well. She took me in her
arms, and I didn’t feel so scared.

[blatentlyobvious]

Chapter two. Sorry its short.

Two-


I woke up to the thought of Noah’s eyes, dark and vicious, as he dug into me. My
pain had subsided since the night before. I rolled over and looked to see DJ in the
chair by the closet. He looked frustrated, as he pressed his fingers to his temple.

I could feel my stomach churning as my thoughts wondered to the events of the
night before. I felt claustrophobic trapped under the sheets. I flung them off,
startling DJ and ran into the hall bathroom.

The vomit came up and I leaned over the toilet. I could feel myself shaking, cold,
but sweating at the same time. Something wet pressed against my neck and I
gasped.

DJ was holding a face cloth.

“Thanks.” I said taking it from him. He avoided my eyes. He stepped away from
me and leaned against the entrance.

“What are you doing here?” I asked wiping my forehead.

“Jen ran out to get breakfast. She asked my to come over.” He said quietly. I
stood up. I wasn’t a baby. Yes, last night had happened, but I didn’t need
someone to watch me.

I pushed the thought out of my head.

“I'm not too hungry.” I said weakly. DJ half smiled.

“That makes two of us then.” He said. I could see through him, and saw the
concern.

I grabbed my toothbrush. I had one here, because I slept over so much. There
were only two toothbrushes because Jens parents and little brothers were in New
Hampshire visiting relatives.

“I wanted to ask last night, but you were in such a state…” He trailed off. I knew
he was going to ask about the rape. “Are you okay?” He asked looking down.

I looked at DJ. This would be one of the hardest things to do in the next year, little
did I know. I forced myself to open up to him.

“DJ, I was so stupid.” I said breaking down. I just about feel over on the floor of
the bathroom, but he caught me. I cried hard.

“Chelsea, it’s not your fault.” DJ said holding on to me. I cried harder.

“It was. I took the drink; I went upstairs because I was lonely. I should have
known better.” I said through gasping attempts at air.

“Chelsea.” He said. “Chelsea. It should have never happened. No body deserves
that.”

I took a few deep breaths as DJs arms stayed around me.

“Thank you for stopping him.” I said hugging him. He rested his head against
mine.

“If I ever see Noah again, he won’t be so lucky.” He growled.

I heard the front door unlock and we stood up. DJ gave me a concerned look and I
just nodded. I knew what he was asking. ‘Are you ready?’

We walked down into Jen’s kitchen and saw her putting the bags from McD’s on
the counter.

She saw my red face and ran to me.

“Oh no. Are you okay?” She asked hugging me. “I told you to watch her.” She said
to DJ.

He shrugged and dug into the bag. He pulled out an Egg McMuffin.

“I'm okay.” I said. Jen turned back to me, listening intently. I still felt like shit.
Mostly I felt used, and disgusting. I was missing something. I was missing my
purity.

“She threw up right out of bed.” DJ informed her. Jen threw her hand up and felt
my forehead. I looked at my toes. Jen and I had given each other manicures the
night before the party. It felt stupid now.

“I'm fine now.” I said again. “DJ helped me out.” I said thankfully. Jen walked
over to pat him on the back and thank him.

“So, I don’t want to ambush you with all this stuff, but you have a lot of stuff to do
today.” She said tossing me a muffin. I put it on the counter. I still hadn’t gained
my appetite back.

“I do?” I asked confused.

“Well, yeah. You need to go down to the station and do a police report. DJ I don’t
know about you. If Noah comes forward before we get the thing filed they could
charge you for battery.” She told us.

I was still confused as I listened to them. I had to do what?

“What?!” DJ said outraged. “I was defending her!” He shouted. Jen put her hand
on his shoulder to try and calm him down but it didn’t work.

“If I hadn’t of been in my right mind, I would have killed him.” He shouted. Jen
and I were both shocked at his aggression. DJ was normally very calm and
collected.

“Exactly, and you almost weren’t. I talked to people from the party last night, to
“catch up” and they said when they found him he was beaten unconscious.” Jen
said, adding in air quotes.

I tuned them out from here, as they bantered. I thought about last night again.
When DJ had come in, pulling Noah off me. I could hear the beating. I could hear
DJ shouting at him; cursing. I remembered seeing blood on DJ’s hand when we
were driving home, and the scared look in his eyes. If I tried to charge Noah with
rape, he could turn around and charge DJ. I wasn’t going to let that happen.

“No.” I said.

“What?” They said simultaneously.

“No, I'm not doing a police report. I want everyone to drop it. This is my choice
not yours.” I said angrily.

“Chelsea, he RAPED you.” Jen said. I closed my eyes tight to block out the vision
of Noah’s dark, vicious eyes.

“I'm well aware of what he did to me!” I screamed standing up. “I want you do
drop it, NOW.” I said quieter.

“Chels, we’re sorry. We only wanted to help.” DJ said. They came over to me, and
I felt the wave of anger pass.

“I'm sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” I said softly.

Jen put her arms around me.

“Do you want to go home now?” DJ asked.

“No, not yet. I'm not ready.” I said. “Jen, could I stay here a few days?”

“Yeah, of course. We could swing by and pick up some clothes later today.” She
said sympathetically.

When I did go home, I knew that I would have to face my parents. I ran over so
many different scenarios of me telling them in my mind, before I found the one
that would work.

I would go home, after a few days here, and pretend like nothing happened.

It would be easy.

…Right?

[blatentlyobvious]

I realize that chapter two was short, but it needed to be in there. This is a little longer, and I really hope you like it. =) And Meghan, yes it will get happier soon. <3

Three-

You would think that someone who had to deal with a rape, would be in a condition with much less stability than my own. The only feeling that struck me
hard at all was guilt. I felt terrible that I had let it happen and I couldn’t allow
myself to put aside the feeling of culpability which sat like stones at the bottom of
my stomach; stones that knocked around each time I remembered that night.

Even though I was sound of mind, I was withdrawn from any major socializing. I
would sit alone on warm days and stare out at David Lam Park in Vancouver from
my little room. Our apartment was spacious outside my walls, but when I was
cooped up and snuggled into my chair, I felt safe. Jen and D.J. would call me every
day, and ask me to do something with them. I declined, as had become my
nature.

For a month and a half things had been like this, until I got a phone call that shook
my senses.

“Grandpa?” I asked when I answered the phone. My grandparents lived in San
Diego, California, hardly what you would expect for a retired couple. I was
surprised he was calling. My mom and my Grandpa had a strained relationship
that dated back to when mom moved to Canada to attend U of Vic. She grew up
in Delaware, on the Atlantic Coast, and far from where we were now. You can
imagine how distraught Grandpa and Grandma had been. Grandpa never forgave
her.

“Chelsea I need to talk to your mom.” He said quietly. I sensed the urgency in his
voice. I walked to my mom who was sautéing mushrooms over the stove.

“Mom, it’s Grandpa.” I said and handed her the phone. She took it cautiously and
motioned to the mushrooms. I nodded and took over, but I kept my attention on
the words that came from my Mom’s mouth.

“Hi Dad.” She said as she pulled a cushion from the couch against her stomach. I
could see her staring out at False Creek. She listened a while, until her breath
caught. She nodded her head, her face growing pale. Without saying goodbye,
she hung up the phone. Tears poured out of her eyes as she hugged the cushion.

“Mom.” I said turning off the burner and moving the pan to a dead one. I walked
over to her and placed my hand on her arm. It was as cold as she looked.
“Mommy?”

She didn’t answer me but instead stood up and gathered her jacket and car keys
and left with tears streaming.

I immediately grabbed the phone and dialed my dad’s number.

“Dad?” I said when he picked up the phone.

“Chels, what’s wrong?” He asked concerned.

“Grandpa called and I don’t know what he told Mom, but she grabbed her keys and
booked it out of here crying.” I explained. I waited for the silence from his side to
end.

“I’ll call your mom. Just, don’t concern yourself with it right now.” I said all right
and hung up, but really, how could I not.

When someone you hardly ever spoke to called, and your mother left without a
word of explanation but instead, tears falling everywhere, it was insane NOT to
concern yourself with it.

My mom came home three hours after she left, her face read and blotchy from
crying. Dad had rushed home at five to be with me after he couldn’t get a hold of
Mom.

“Jules?” Dad said when she slouched down in the chair by the patio door.

“My mom is dead.” She says turning to us.

In that moment, I forgot about everything that had been eating at my mind. All I
could think of was my Grandma. She wasn’t dead. Mom hadn’t said that.

But she had, and so had Grandpa. Mom didn’t cry this time. Instead, she pulled
her legs up underneath her and stared out at the sky. It was dark now and the
reflection of the stars spread across the water.

I couldn’t hold my own tears back and I walked away from both of them. I walked
to my room, closed the door, and sat in my chair. Looking up at the sky I decided
to try God for an answer.

“Is this my punishment?” I whispered through my tears. “You take her away from
me?” I said hoarsely. “Ever night I prayed for redemption, for your forgiveness…”
I trailed off. I gave up on God for the moment and I fell asleep cradling myself,
eyes swollen and sore.

The mornings after had been quiet, and the feeling of dismay and sadness was
thick amongst the three of us. When Jen called, I felt an obligation to tell her.
She told me that she was going to be there for me, to help me cope with
everything. I told DJ and he rushed over to our apartment.

As soon as he stepped through the door, he wrapped his arms around me. I
flinched but he never let go. We walked down to David Lam Park and sat together
on our bench.

It really was our bench. We had our names carved into the wood. We did that in
grade seven after a long discussion over the stupid legacies that live on from
cheesy chick flicks. It was actually an idea from one of my favorite books, where
the girl and her boyfriend closed the story by writing their names on a chair at
Fenway Park. Well, the bench was no Fenway Park seat, and DJ and I were not a
couple, but it meant something special to our friendship.

“God’s punishing me.” I told him as I looked to the vast sky. It was overcast and
dark blue clouds were creeping up on the grey.

“Chelsea, God’s not punishing you, no one is. That was not your fault. You know
that and you need to admit it.” He reasoned.

“I can’t help but feel like it was though DJ. I mean I was the one who got drunk.
If it wasn’t for you who knows how much damage could have been done. You
understand how stupid I am?” I told him.

“No matter what you say, you’re not stupid, and Noah is still the one to blame for
this.” He said calmly. I watched his fists clench and unclench and I could sense his
hatred towards Noah.

I felt a few drops of rain pelt my skin and looked at the cement to see it growing
darker.

“Come on Chelsea. We should head home.” DJ said standing up and holding his
hand out to me.

When we got up to the apartment, Mom and Dad had dinner going. Trout with
asparagus and mashed potatoes was served up ten minutes later.

It was already understood that DJ would be eating with us, but with a terrific
storm now hovering around the top of Yale Town, he would likely have to stay the
night as well.

“DJ you should call your parents and stay the night. This surge won’t let up soon.”
Dad said as DJ and I cleaned the dishes. I scrubbed off the food and handed the
wet plate to him. He wrapped the cloth around it and dried it quickly.

“Sure Keith.” DJ answered.

He dug out his cell phone and dialed the number for his house.

“Hi mom.” He said quietly. The room was silent as mom and dad sat on the
loveseat. My mom’s unfinished glass of wine was in front of her and her head was
on Dad’s shoulder. She didn’t cry anymore, but she never smiled or laughed and
in the past week I found her behavior similar to mine the weeks following the rape.

“Yes it was an invitation.” DJ explained into the phone. I looked at him and he
rolled his eyes. I didn’t smile, though I normally would. It didn’t feel right these
days to be happy.

“I love you. Tell Dad I love him too. And Beth. Okay, goodnight.” He said finishing
up the call. He pushed his cell phone back into his pocket and hung the towel on
the rack.

“Should we get the sleeping bag?” He asked. I nodded and we walked down the
hall to my room. Inside my closet and at the top of the shelf was an old sleeping
bag with plaid stripes of green and blue across the inside. I yanked it down and
threw it to the floor with a pillow. I told him I would be right back and walked
down the hall to the living room.

“Night.” I said quietly looking down at my feet.

“I love you.” My mom said turning to look at me. Her eyes were tired and baggy,
much like my Dad’s.

“Goodnight sweet girl.” He said and smiled weakly. I walked away. I wasn’t sweet.
If only he knew.

I walked to my room, closing the door behind me. DJ had unrolled his sleeping bag
and set the pillow against it.

“I have to stop doing this. If the guys ever knew, I would never live down my
reputation as a full on fag.” He told me as I opened the window. I crack of
lightning flashed across the sky, the thunder fast behind it. I didn’t jump because I
had grown accustomed to it.

“I don’t believe she’s gone.” I said staring out at the sky. “I never had enough
time with her.”

I looked at DJ who was deep in thought.

“DJ what’s wrong?” I asked sitting cross-legged on my bed.

“Everything.” He said. I knew that he was right. It really was. “What happened to
you, and you’re Grandma, none of this is right. One person shouldn’t have to deal
with this all by themselves and so close behind one another.” He added with
frustration.

“I'm not alone really.” I lied. I knew that I was by myself on this, because no one
close to me had experienced what I did. The only people I had to talk to about
anything were Jen and DJ. Even around Jen it was hard to bring up.

“You could tell your parents Chels. You could talk to someone about it.” He said
after a silence filled only by the rumble of God’s skies.

“I'm not doing therapy, Desmond.” I snapped. I looked at him and narrowed my
eyes. I fell back into my bed and pulled the covers over me.

“I think you should at least tell you parents.” He said getting up to turn the light
switch off.

“DJ, if I tell my parents, they will send me to therapy. I am not doing that. Please
just let it go?” I said and turned to the window. DJ sighed and ruffled the sleeping
back as he slipped under it. We were silent for a while before anyone spoke.

“You remember that time in grade ten when you sat up with me all night,
watching the storm?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah, after your Uncle passed.” I added.

“Well, I'm not sure if you remember what you told me, but I haven’t ever
forgotten it.” He said. I paused, thinking back to that night. It was similar now,
with the storm and a death, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t rack my
memory for the words.

“I don’t remember.” I admitted turning and folding my arms underneath my chin.
I was facing him again.

“You said that when God took people, it was for a good reason, and even though
you didn’t see it right away, those people were watching out for you. You told me
that I didn’t lose my uncle, but that God had taken him so he could guide me
throughout my life.” He reminded me.

“So now my Grandma’s watching me.” I said closing my eyes.

“She’s guiding you.” He concluded.

He decided that he was right.

But if my Grandma really was guiding me, I was curious to know what exactly her
intention was.

Because it ended up that I was being guided right down to California.

[blatentlyobvious]

So, I realize that JB has not come in yet, but I assure you they will. For now, enjoy the story.
=)

Four-

Mom sat at the breakfast table with the newspaper spread out in front of her. She looked
worse today, with her hair combed down, flat against her pale skin; eyes dark and circled with
stress.

I cried for my Grandma when I got up.

There is a line in a Big Yellow Taxi that goes “don't it always seem to go, that you don't know
what you got 'til it's gone”

I can relate now. She’s gone, and I never really got the chance to know her. I’ll never know
what life was like for her when she was a kid, or when she was raising my mom and uncles.

“So,” I started. Mom didn’t look up from the paper, but I watched as her eyes stopped.
“Have you talked to Grandpa again?” I asked softly. I pushed a fruit loop around in my bowl.
It was the last one, the straggler; protesting by falling off my spoon and sliding around on the
sides of the porcelain.

“He’s arranging the funeral in California.” She said quietly, eyes moving again across the
pages.
“Are we going?” I wondered as I put my dishes away. My Dad looked up from the couch and
strained to hear my moms response. She looked up at me and shook her head.

“No.” She stated.

I started to feel my temper rise. We weren’t going? Her mother died, for God’s sake.

“What do you mean?” I questioned leaning back on the counter. My hands were pressing
hard into the edges.

“I mean exactly what I said, Chelsea. No, we aren’t going. “ She snapped.

“Fine.” I said and stormed off to my room. I closed the door behind me and turned the lock.
I stared at the laundry-ridden floor and sighed. I threw my hamper on my bed and shoved
the clothes in. I shook the sheets on my bed and let them billow down, practically making
themselves.

“It doesn’t make sense not to go to her funeral. It’s the least you could do for her!” I
grumbled as I flopped down onto my bed. I sighed in frustration and felt tears sting my eyes.
I let them roll softly down my cheeks. This was almost unbearable. I lost my virginity, my
purity, and my grandma. What more was there to let go.

The muffled sound of my phone stopped my tears. It rang again as I reached to answer it.

“Hello?” I answered, trying to sound half cheerful.

“Hi Chels. You want to spend some time with your bud and the mall?” She offered.

“Jen I'm really not up to it today. I'm sorry.” I said. Really, I wouldn’t have minded going
shopping, I could use some new clothes, but I didn’t want to run the risk of seeing Noah. The
thought of his name brought me the vision of his eyes, dark and menacing.

“Chelsea you need to get out. DJ said the farthest you’ll go is David Lam. If you don’t want
to press charges and get some personal compensation, then at least try and move on with
your life. Though, you know telling your parents, getting some help to deal with it would be a
really good thing.” She reasoned.

“Jen, I appreciate it, but I'm not getting therapy. And I can’t tell my parents, there’s too
much to deal with right now.” I explained. I was done with getting upset about the topic of
“help” when DJ and Jen brought it up. My new approach was ‘thanks, but no thanks.’

“You know, Chelsea, I’ve been really generous about this lately.” Jen said.

“About what?” I asked confused.

“About you. You’re wilting away. I'm losing my friend and this lifeless, pale girl who refuses to
do anything is replacing her. I hate to be cliché, but I really don’t know you anymore.” Jen
said. I felt my throat tighten.

I didn’t say anything. I let tears fall and I crawled under my covers.

“And don’t tell me you want time, because you’ve had nothing but it for the last two
months.” She added.

“You don’t know shit about what I’ve gone through!” I shouted. “You can’t expect me to just
move on because YOU think I should!”

“I’m not commanding you to move on, but YOU can’t expect things to get better by sitting in
your little cocoon! It’s up to you to take the first step. No one is going to do it for you.”

I heard yelling coming from the living room and forgot about my call with Jen. I hung up the
phone, because I was tired of her lectures and I needed to know what was going on between
my parents.

I walked out to see my mom and dad face to face, caught up in a yelling match. This was
something I had never seen before. My parents didn’t fight, not like this, they just didn’t.

“You can’t stay here and ignore the fact that she’s dead!” My dad screamed. My mom bared
her teeth and narrowed her eyes. She looked ready to attack him.

“He wouldn’t want me there anyway!” She said, probably referring to Grandpa. “It’s just
some obligation that Jacob” My Uncle “forced on him!”

“You really want to make this about you?” My dad said turning and walking into the kitchen.

“I'm not making this about me Keith? It’s about HIM! It always has been!” She screamed.
They obviously didn’t notice me tucked around the corner, listening intently.

“Well let him make it about him then, but what about our daughter?” Dad asked her. Mom
stopped. Her eyes turned sad and she looked down. Dad kept going. “Doesn’t she deserve to
say goodbye to her Grandmother?”

Mom was silent for a long time, before she looked weak and collapsed on her knees, crying.
Dad rushed over to her and gently pulled her up by her arms.

She mumbled something into his arms and he nodded. He stroked her hair, and seeing them
both, especially mom, so fragile and weak, made me cry again. I ran back to my room, shut
the door and laid face down on my bed. I cried, long and hard, but still, I found no relief.

We were having dinner on Sunday and it’s uncomfortably silent.

“Chelsea will you say grace?” My Dad asked I shake my head. I have never liked saying
grace. My dad did it most of the time. Now especially though, I don’t feel like thanking God.
I feel betrayed by him. My dad sighs and says it quickly. “Dear Lord, bless this food to the
nourishment of our bodies and us to thy service. In Christ's name we pray, Amen.” Of course
I join them when they say Amen, but I make a mental note to talk to God later about my
“punishment.”

“I have something to talk to you about.” Mom said taking a bite of her potatoes.

I'm silent, waiting for her to bring up the rape, even though I know she won’t. My parents
don’t know. I wonder if they’ve even noticed a change in me.

“We want to fly to Milford next week.” She said. All the way to Delaware to see our relatives
and a burial. Mom and Dad both watched me, obviously anticipating my reaction.

“That means we’re going to be at the funeral then.” I stated. They nodded their heads and
smiled weakly.

“Okay.” I said. That was more than enough between the three of us to bring a little comfort.

~

The funny thing about Comfort is that it’s only an illusion when it’s between people.
Sometimes, its reached, and the concept is understood and felt, but other times, it remains
the illusion; and a very misleading one.

There was no comfort in the next few weeks. Instead, I found displeasure, fear and
uncertainty hanging above our heads as we prepared for our travels.

I called DJ to talk things over with him. I hadn’t mentioned that I was leaving for two weeks.
After leaving things on a bad note with Jen, I wasn’t sure I could force myself to pick up the
phone and call her.

The Saturday of our departure, I found myself struggling to make then phone calls; one to DJ
and one to Jen.

I sat on the patio, staring out at False Creek. I wondered if Milford had lakes like this. My cell
phone was in my hand and I closed the screen door, shutting out the noise of my parents
packing. I looked up at the sky.

“I don’t want to call.” I told God. “I really don’t think it’s necessary.” I added, contemplating
the scale of Jen’s annoyance and/or anger towards me. I didn’t expect an answer from God.
I had decided three days ago that DJ had been right, and God hadn’t betrayed or punished
me. Rather, God was someone for me to cry and talk to when I felt alone and scared. He
had become an outlet for me.

I felt my phone vibrate, and I flinched. I looked down at the call display. It was Jen.

I looked up again before answering the phone. “Funny.” I said.

“Hi.” I said quietly. An astonishing amount of dismay was creeping over me. I sat in the patio
chair.

“I'm sorry.” Jen said sniffling.

“Are you crying?” I asked.

“I'm a terrible person. I don’t understand, and you’re right. I just want my best friend back.”
She explained with cracks in her voice. She had definitely been crying.

“I win.” I said. She paused for a long time and I clarified. “I'm the terrible one because I
didn’t tell you that I'm leaving for Delaware today.”

“Grandma’s funeral?” She asked.

“Yeah, on Monday.” I told her.

“I’ll miss you. I’ll pray.” She said. This surprised me. Jen didn’t have a faith, nor did she do
anything related to faith.

“Really?” I asked curiously.

“Well, I'm not sure how to exactly, but I’ll figure it out. Need all the help you can get right?”

“I love you.” I said smiling.

“I love you too. Be good. Pack cinnamon. My Grandma says it brings luck.” She revealed and
we said goodbye. I could tell she was serious, which made me consider it. I would need luck
for this trip, if I were going to survive my relatives and the stress of a funeral procession.

I heard the front buzz twenty minutes after I hung up the phone and snuck three sticks of
cinnamon in my bag. If it didn’t bring luck, it could at least serve as a freshener.

“I’ll get it!” My Dad yelled across the apartment. I heard his rushed footsteps travel down
the hall to the front. He came back a minute later, lightly tapped my door and told me the
door was for me

I walked out, naturally, curious to know who was there. I smiled when I saw DJ standing at
the open fridge, arms crossed.

“Hi.” I said and hopped up on the counter.

“I don’t do goodbye’s on an empty stomach.” He said turning and frowning. Jen must have
called him. I sighed and walked into his arms, knowing how much harder it would be without
him there.

[blatentlyobvious]

Hey! Alright, so this mystery guy...gee I wonder.
=) I hope everyone enjoys this!


Five-

Goodbyes are hard on everyone, but most of the time you get to see the person you’re
bidding farewell to again.

Funerals are for the final goodbyes.

~

We had a layover in Denver for two hours. My mom and dad were set on staying in the
terminal, but I had different ideas. I was taking a step to recovery, believe it or not.

Walking around the Denver airport felt like a mall, and while I walked, I kept my hand
wrapped tightly around my cell, with the notion that, if someone came near me, I could call
for help. If nothing else, I could use my phone to knock them senseless, right?

I looked around with a tight feeling in my chest. The best thing I could do was to remind
myself to breathe. Noah wasn’t here, and no one was going to hurt me and, though the

feeling was still palpable, it felt good to be out by myself again.

There were shops on either side of me, and streams of people passing. I saw a sports shop
and made a sharp turn into it. Only a small group of people stood looking at the souvenirs
with various team logo’s on them. The store was big, and it reminded me of Sports Check
back home. I walked to the bag, after waving off an employee and started to browse through
the jerseys.

I pulled my phone from my jacket and checked for service. Full bars. I dialed DJ’s cell and
waited for him to pick up. This call would cost a lot of money, but I needed to talk to my best
friend.

“Hello, you’ve reached DJ incorporated, we’ll take care of all your dirty business.” Said a deep,
exaggerated voice.

“Who is this?” I asked leaning against the back wall of the store. I glanced at the other
customers.

“Who ever you want us to be…” He said. He voice was normal again and I recognized it.
Shawn, DJ’s cousin must have gotten a hold of his phone.

“Shawn, give DJ the phone.” I instructed.

“It’s not Shawn.” He said dumbly.

“I'm not an idiot. Please I need to talk to DJ.” I implored.

“DJ! It’s your girlfriend.” Shawn yelled. I rolled my eyes, and heard DJ yell at Shawn to give
him his phone.

“Chelsea?” DJ said curiously.

“Hi. I know this is going to run up your phone bill, but I wanted to say hi. We landed in
Denver.” I told him.

“Where are you?” He asked.

“I'm in a store in the Denver airport and I'm freaking out a little bit.” I admitted.

“Chels, this really isn’t good for our phone bills. Take a deep breath, buy a magazine and go
back to the terminal.” He instructed me. “Wait. Can you get me a jersey? I can pay you
back.” He added quickly.

“DJ.”

“Please?” He asked again.

“Fine, for what? They have football, baseball, some hockey…”

“Do they have a Bronco’s one?” He asked.

“Is that football?” I asked blankly.

“Dude…”

I smiled and flipped through the rack, looking for a Bronco’s jersey. They didn’t have any.

“No Bronco’s.” I reported,

“Can you get me a Rockies cap?” He asked quietly.

“No way!” I said shaking my head. I hated the Colorado Rockies. “You’re not serious are you?
”

“What’s wrong with them?” He asked offended. There was so much wrong with their team,
but I didn’t have the time, or money for a long drawn on argument with DJ about their
problems.

“I should go. I’ll find something for you.” I promised.

“Goodbye best buddy. Stay safe. Just breathe okay? And call when you get to…um…” He
trailed off. I smiled again.

“Milford best buddy, Milford.” I said and closed the phone.

I walked to a rack with little key chains. There were logos of teams underneath a glossy
covering. I spun the triangular rack. One side was dedicated to Football, another to Hockey
and a third to baseball. I browsed through the MLB teams, looking for the Jays.

I found Toronto’s key chain and grabbed a Cubs’ one for DJ. He would live without a Rockies
souvenir.

After paying, I wanted to get back to the terminal. The flight would leave in an hour, and
Mom had told me to be back before 2:00. It was approaching 2:10 now.

In my rush to get out of the store, I tripped over myself and dropped my purse and the bag.
Embarrassed, I grabbed the key chains, receipt and stood up. To my surprise, I bumped right
into some tall guy with straight, dark hair and piercing eyes.

“Ah!” I exclaimed as the bag fell, yet again. My heart was racing as I bent to pick it up.

“Sorry.” I said at the same time as the guy. He laughed while my blush deepened.

“Sorry.” I repeated. I saw my purse, rolled my eyes and swept it up off the floor. Was this
some kind of intense bad luck, or did I suddenly grow another left foot.

“Are you alright?” He asked moving his head to look at me. I nodded and walked off as fast as
I could manage.

I felt something grab my shoulder and I turned around swiftly to see the Sport’s shop guy
staring at me.

“What?” I said frightened.

He held out my book, American Cars by Andrew Montgomery and eyed it critically. I
snatched it away and tried to calm myself down. He was just returning my book.

“You dropped it.” He offered.

“Yeah, thanks. I have a flight to catch.” I said and ran off in the direction of the terminal. I
shoved the book in my bag and looked up for a brief second. You couldn’t have helped me
through one hour? I asked God in my thoughts.

I saw Mom and Dad in their spots, waiting patiently.

“Hi.” I said sitting down beside Dad. Mom didn’t look up. She just said Hi and turned her
attention to her magazine. They were both anxious for this trip. Dad wasn’t on super good
terms with Mom’s side, and really, Mom wasn’t either.

My mom has one brother; my Uncle Jacob. I can’t ever remember calling him “Uncle.” Since
I was little, he’s been Jacob. He’s ten years younger than my Mom, putting him at 30, and
more like a cousin than an Uncle. That’s the other reason why I see him like that; I don’t
have cousins on my mom’s side. I only have Jacob. You see where I'm going.

“Flight 147 to Milford boarding. We’ll ask that anyone with small children or wheelchairs go
first.” The woman at the counter said. My parents and I stayed put while first priority riders
boarded. Next were rows 12-18. Then us in the 5-11 section. We stood up, with our carry-
on’s, passports, and tickets. I began to regret coming.

I would have to say my final goodbye, and I wasn’t sure I could face that.

My parents were on the outside seats of row 7. I had asked for the window, so I could watch
the clouds and not think about what was to come in the next few days.

I leaned back in my seat as the safety video came on. I watched without absorbing any of
what they were saying. We waited another twenty minutes before the plane started to roll
away from the terminal and down the tarmac. I loved the feeling of the plane’s wheels lifting
above the ground and turned to watch the ground below.

We reached our altitude of 32,000 feet and I unbuckled and leaned forward to grab my purse. Inside was American Cars. I thought back to the guy who saved it from the floor of
the Sport’s store.

The details I blanked on in my moment of supreme paranoia were pretty detailed. I'm
surprised I was even able to remember the finer things while I panicked about being
attacked.

His hair, dark brown, almost black was half straightened and just above his shoulders. His
eyes, rich, chocolate brown eyes that looked kind and surprised. He was wearing an open
black vest against a crisp white shirt. He had black jeans, tight against his legs and shiny,
Italian shoes. It was obvious he was rich. He was also pretty built and attractive.

Past that, I think he was with his family. There were two other young guys, and an older
one, who were with him in the store. I didn’t really notice too much about the way they
acted, or spoke.

I ran my fingers against my book. It was heavy, and had some of the most amazing
American cars from 1907- 2003. Countless numbers of my dream cars were in there. I
flipped to the Doge Dart Phoenix of 61. This was the model with the beautiful tapering tail
fins. The industry was trying to get rid of tail fins in 61, and keeping them made this car
stand out.

I read a few more pages, flipping around from year to year. I felt my eyes droop and I put
away the heavy encyclopedia of autos. I leaned against my arm, and the window, and let
myself drift off into a world of silence and safety.

I woke with a jolt. The plane had landed on the tarmac, and the rumbling of the Boeing-747
shook my out of my safety. I looked at my mom and dad, who were fully awake. They both
looked like they would rather be anywhere but Milford, and I didn’t blame them. I wasn’t too
keen on being here myself.

“Jacob’s meeting us outside of customs.” Mom said as we grabbed our stowed away bags.

“Alright.” I said quietly. I wasn’t sure if it was from the plane ride, or the earlier rush at
Denver’s airport that had me feeling so nauseous.

We walked through the doors together, to meet Jacob. He was standing looking stressed and
flustered, but when he saw us, smiled genuinely.

I walked to him first, wrapping my arms around him. He held me tight until I let go. My
mom did the same and pulled away with both of them looking ready to cry. Jacob opened his
arms to my dad, surprising us all and gave him a comforting hug.

I knew that the next few days would be the hardest on all of us, but with each other, we
could muddle through.

“So Jacob, where is the car?” My dad asked after we grabbed our luggage.

“It’s out here.” He said as we stepped through the doors. They opened and we saw Grandpa.
He was tense and stiff when his eyes met my moms.

“Jules.” He said affectionately. I saw tears in his eyes as he reached out to hold my mom.

I looked up as they hugged and thanked God.

I looked inside and saw Dad at the doors, struggling to get the bags, and walked back to help
them.

“Thank you Chelsea.” Dad and Jacob said when I grabbed a bag from each of them. I smiled
briefly before glancing to the luggage carts.

My eyes stopped on a boy. He was staring straight back at me and smirked. He was the guy
who I bumped into in the Sports store all the way back in Denver.

He waved and I blushed. It was terrible that he had even seen me that clumsy in the first
place. I wasn’t going to acknowledge him now. Maybe I could get away with him thinking I
had been the wrong person. I looked away and caught up with my family.

[Sunshine93]

more!

OH! I Thought DJ WAS Joe until you said his name!!! you know? DJ Dnager??!?!?!!/ did you do that purposly? LOL

[blatentlyobvious]

Sorry this took a while. =) I hope you like it. I'm sorry there isn't much discription of the funeral, but I couldn't put much in there. & Sunshine93 --- DJ came from DJ Danger, but he's definitely different.

Six-

Jacobs house is a small little bungalow in the middle of Milford. It’s down the street from Grandma’s church. This is the community where my mom grew up. It’s not the same
house; that place came down five years ago when there was expansion and new
developments. Jacob’s place is one of the new homes that replaced the others.

I have been here before, when I was eleven and again when I was fifteen. Jacob took me to
a little minor league baseball game the last time and we stayed out late to watch the stars.
Truth be told, I really missed this place.

It was late now, almost 2:00 in the morning, but I couldn’t force myself to sleep. All night I
stayed up, thinking of my Grandma. When we got home from the airport, Jacob cooked
dinner, and we sat, simply enjoying each other’s company.

My Grandpa had talked about California, and the house, but he never mentioned Grandma.

Neither did anyone else, but it was nice to see my family getting along again. Maybe things
could stay this way.

The sound of my phone ringing snapped me wide-awake. I jumped out of the guest bed Jacob
had set up for me and searched around in the dark. I stumbled over my bag and found
myself staring at my phone. It was peeking out my side pocket on my jacket. I pulled it out.

“Hello?” I said quietly.

“You didn’t call.” It was DJ.

“Sorry. It’s just been really stressful with everything.” I explained.

“No, that’s alright. Was the flight okay?” He asked.

“It was fast. I slept through it all.” I said getting up. The bed squeaked when I sat on it, my
legs crossed. I grabbed a pillow and pulled it into my lap because since I was young, it had
brought me comfort.

“Really? So you didn’t get to feel the landing?” He asked, disappointed.

“Oh I felt it.”

DJ was silent for a moment. “Everything else was okay, you know, at the airport?”

“I had trouble as soon as I hung up with you. It was embarrassing.” I divulged.

“What happened?” He asked interested.

“All I know is that I tripped, dropped my stuff, and when I stood up knocked into some guy.”
I said leaving out the part about him returning my book, and seeing him at the Milford
airport.

“You’re okay though?” He asked sincerely. I knew what he was getting at.

“I think it will get easier. I'm just taking the first steps, you know?” I enlightened.

“For your sake, let’s hope it does.” He said in a lower voice.

“Now what does that mean?” I asked. He didn’t reply for a few minutes. “DJ.”

“Sorry, someone was in the hall. You know it’s really expensive to be calling from the other
side of the world.” He said, excusing his moment of silence.

“I'm not on the other side of the world stupid.” I clued him in. “I might as well be though. I
miss home.”

“What’s Milton like?” He asked.

“Milford is really nice. The trees are full of leaves, and they’re huge. There’s these really nice
purple ones outside-“

“Purple?” He cut me off. “Like, purple trees?” He asked enthused.

“Not the bark genius, the leaves.” I explained slowly.

“Oh. What was that?” He asked. I shook my head, even though I knew he couldn’t see.

“What was what?”

“Sarcasm. It was like, a glimmer of the old Chelsea.”

I smiled. Maybe the walk by myself had helped a little. “I wish it never happened.” I said
toying with the edge of the pillowcase. I leaned back and rested my head against the wall. I
was uncomfortable almost immediately and fell down to my mattress.

“I know.” He said trying to comfort me.

“But you don’t. You only know what you’ve seen. You can’t understand how…disgusting I
feel. I lost something that I wasn’t planning on losing for a long time, and now, now I'm
just… Used.”

“Don’t talk yourself down like that.” He said sternly.

“You know as well as me that it’s true.”

“I'm sorry I don’t understand how you feel, okay? I can’t help that. But you have to stop
thinking of yourself as some discarded, useless piece of junk.”

“Sorry.” I said a little hurt.

DJ sighed. “Don’t apologize. Just don’t forget how amazing you are, no matter what
happened. You’re still my Belle.” He said bringing memories from our childhood.

In eighth grade, our school put on the theatrical version of Beauty and the Beast. I wanted
to act in the play, but I refused to try out unless DJ came with me. We got the leads.

Which, in turn was beyond awkward. I had to kiss DJ. I loved DJ, but I couldn’t kiss him. At
least, when we were rehearsing I couldn’t. I mentioned that he’s one of the hottest guys I
know, but you don’t kiss your best friend. It was against all laws of boy/girl friendships, at
least in our books. DJ felt the same but we weren’t allowed to perform unless we were willing
to share the kiss.

You probably think that we just ended up kissing, but I was dead set against it. I quit the
play. DJ got mad at me and said it was stupid to make him try out if I wasn’t even going to
do it. We fought for three days, and he even tried to make me jealous by getting Hannah
Roberts, the girl I hated the most in eighth grade, to play Belle. Finally he gave up and
apologized, and so did I.

I did kiss DJ, but that’s our secret, and a story for another time.

“You’re still my Beast.” I said smiling.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” He asked, bringing me back to the business of misery.

“We have to start preparations for the funeral. Contact everyone and all that.” I stated.

“You should get some sleep then.” He said knowingly.

“Alright, goodnight Desmond Junior Sampson.” I smiled as his full name hung in the air. DJ
grunted.

“Goodnight Chelsea Estelle Baker.” He threw back at me.

I closed my cell phone and tucked it under my pillow. Having a best friend who would call
you at 2 in the morning, and ignore the fact that one call will end up costing upwards of forty
dollars, is pretty amazing.

~

It’s the morning of Grandma’s funeral. Her body is waiting for us at Avenue United Church
while we all get ready to head over there. The minister, Rev. Henderson was there, preparing
for the ceremony.

Mom came into my room, dressed in a simple, conservative black dress with matching black
sling backs.

“Are you ready sweetheart?” She asked. Something came across her face; look of despair, or
fear, maybe both. Something else was haunting her eyes though. It was like she knew
something, which scared me.

“Uh, yeah.” I said smoothing out my black silk dress. My fingers ran against the beaded
embellishments along the sides, scratching the skin.

“Good.” She said and took my hand. “Can we talk later hesitantly?” She asked. My stomach
churned because the kind of “talk” she was talking about didn’t seem like just talking.

“Yeah.” I said trying to hold composure.

We walked down the stairs, where my Dad, Grandpa and Jacob stood solemnly. The car ride
to the church was just as glum and my eyes started to well up. I blinked back the tears and
steadied my breathing to avoid breaking down in front of my family. They didn’t need that.

When I stepped outside the Jacobs’ 73 Ford Torino, I looked to the sky. It reminded me of
the storm cell the night DJ slept over. Coming in from the west clouds were thick and dark.
Surprisingly, the song “White Wedding” popped into my head.

The church was filled, but not crowed, with our family. Some distant, most close. I looked
around, putting names to faces in a group of 35 people.

Distant cousin’s from my Grandpa’s side stood around an area of the pews, while my
Grandpa’s only living siblings, his two sisters, stood by the doors, ready to greet him. He
reached his arms around each of them, before they hugged the rest of us.

His youngest sister, Dora, was in her seventies and I remembered meeting her when I was
eleven, at a barbeque with my cousins.

The older sister, Trina was closer to eighty and looking frail and tired. It dawned on me that
all these people knew my Grandma better than I ever had. It was too much to see them so
sad, and try to comfort my family when we didn’t spend more than seven weeks with her
and my Grandpa in the past three years.

“Dad, I’ll be right back okay?” I said touching his arm. He nodded solemnly, and I walked to
the back of the church. The large oak doors led into a small hallway with bulletins. I looked
around, in search of a bathroom. The door to the women’s was the second on the right. I
shoved the heavy door open and looked around. No one was here so I let myself cry.

Today was the day that everyone who knew and loved my Grandmother said goodbye, and
that was hard to face. Her body was at the front, and I knew that it was an open casket
ceremony. After the speeches, from my Mom and Jacob, Grandpa, and myself, and the
blessing said by Rev. Henderson, the procession would close. Everyone was allowed to say
their goodbyes to Grandma at her casket.

I wasn’t sure I could handle any of it, but as the funeral started, I didn’t have time to back
out.

“Today, we’re here because we’ve lost someone who was close to us all.” The reverend
started. The assembly of people was silent and tentative. “Estelle Noma Green was an
amazing women. I can remember back to our Sunday school classes, and how boisterous
she was…” He went on to tell stories of growing up with my grandma.

My mom, uncle, grandpa and I all stood to the left of him, listening and smiling. When he
finished my mom stepped to the podium, shaking.

My Grandpa was next, and he shared stories of meeting Grandma. He shed his tears, and left
the stage.

“Hi.” She said softly into the microphone. She cleared her throat and shuffled her papers.
“When I was little, about five years old, my mom taught me to ride a bike. She said ‘the best
way to learn is to fail.’ I lived with those words. My whole life, my mom has been with me,
even when I left home, she was there.” She stopped, wiping away tears. “Um.” She started
to lose her train of thought and looked flustered. “Thank you for coming. My daughter…” She
trailed off and held her hand in my direction. Her eyes pleaded with me to take over. I
grabbed the piece of paper with my own words written and unfolded it gently.

I looked in front of me and saw the people who knew my Grandma, who loved her, staring
back. They were waiting for me to speak as they dabbed at their eyes with handkerchiefs.

“Um.” I started feeling a guilt knocking around in my stomach. All of these amazing people,
they came to say goodbye to Estelle Roberts, the women they all knew and loved. I didn’t
know her, not like they did. I didn’t deserve to stand here, and tell them what it was like to
know her, because I didn’t know her. I shook my head and started to cry hard.

At that point, I walked silently out the church, not looking at anyone and letting my feet
carry me faster and faster out the church. It was pouring now and lightning was covering
the sky. The thunder rumbled as I looked around. I wanted out of here and now. In this
tiny town, I could only think to go was that baseball park where Jacob had taken me three
years ago.

So I ran.

[blatentlyobvious]

Just so you know, if it slows down at the end, its because I had some trouble writing it. For some reason, i just couldn't put myself in that position to expand on it.


Seven-

I ran for five blocks until my chest hurt and I felt like dropping. I saw the green of the park and the dugout, empty and waiting for me. I stopped, breathing heavy, and took off my soaking wet flats. I ran as the cold ground pierced the soles of my
feet and fell against the bench with a thud. My hair was wet and drops of water
were mixing with my tears as they fell down my cheeks. I rested my head against the back of the dugout and cried. I could feel my body shaking hard as the tears
burned my eyes.

“Grandma I’m sorry. Come back.” I whispered. I looked to God, asking him why
with my eyes. I would better off not to have to deal with any of this; everyone
would.

I heard steps come closer and looked up frightened. In the dark sky, it was hard to
see the person standing in front of me. My breath caught as the similar darkness
haunted my memory.

Who would be crazy enough to be out here? Well, besides myself.

“Are you okay?” A voice said concerned. I saw another figure encroaching on my
space.


“Who’s that?” I asked alarmed and panicky. They came a little closer and I got
tense.



“I'm Nick.” The first boy said. He was the one who asked in the first place. “This is
Kevin.” He said gesturing. I slowly pushed myself further away. I could see a little
more clearly. Nick was obviously young and had a dark blue t-shirt on that clung
to his chest. Kevin was taller and dressed about the same. They both shared the
same curly, dripping wet hair.

A rumble of thunder nearly shook the ground and made me jump back further.
Kevin and Nick jumped as well.

“What are you doing here?” Kevin asked. His eyes were curious as he waited.

“I'm sitting.” I stated flatly. I didn’t want anyone to talk to. I looked up again and
saw them exchange glances.

“It might not be a good idea to be here. You could get sick.” Nick said thoughtfully.

“I'm fine. If you don’t mind, I came to be alone.” I said looking into the field. Yet
another someone was headed in this direction. The last thing I wanted, was to
spend time with strangers, especially after my last encounter with the opposite
sex…

“You sure? We can give you a ride if you need.” Kevin offered. I inhaled deeply,
quietly.

“No. Please just…” I trailed off and wiped my cheeks. The other guy was still a
ways away from Nick and Kevin. I watched as they turned to go. It sounds
strange, but they seem in some way familiar.

“Take care.” Nick said and the walked away. There was comfort in his words,
which confused me. They stopped the other guy, as they grew distant. There was
an exchange of words and they turned to go.

“CHELSEA!?” A familiar voice called from behind the bleachers. I turned to see
Jacob waving me over. I walked out of the dugout and started towards him. I was
surprised to see the third guy watching me as I took one last look at the boys. I
looked closer and saw that it was the same person who I bumped into in the
Sport’s shop, and the same guy who was at the airport. He looked confused,
shook his head and turned around. Did he recognize me too?

I ignored the feeling, as I got closer to Jacob. He was waiting by the car looking
flustered and distraught.

“Why’d you run?” He said wrapping his arms around me. I tensed up for a
moment before returning this gesture.

“Because I couldn’t do it. I never really knew Grandma and I couldn’t stand there
and let everyone know that.” I said looking up at him with sad eyes. He nodded
and there was another rumble of thunder, farther away this time.

He opened the car door for me and I slid in.

“Who were they?” He asked as he started the ignition.

“Um, they just came to see if I was okay…” I trailed off. What I really wanted to
know was who that guy was. He was a mystery to me, fully, yet I kept running
into him everywhere I went. For now I could call him Caché. He was my secret.

“Are you?” He asked slowly.

“Do I have to go back?” I asked.

~

Mark Twain said: “All say, ‘How hard it is that we have to die’ - a strange complaint
to come from the mouths of people who have had to live.”

Living when someone you love dies is harder than dying. Living with the guilt of a
rape glued to your skin is harder than dying. Living with the notion that
everywhere you go, and everyone you pass can see how used you are is harder
than dying.

So right now, dying seemed like a good option.

~

“Jen called.” My mom said quietly as we sat in the guest room. We were talking,
because that’s what she wanted to do. So far, we had cried about Grandma,
discussed my abrupt departure from the ceremony and the plans for when we got
back to Vancouver (which were to go on with life.)

“She called you?” I said surprised. Best friends don’t normally “call” parents.


“What for?” I asked suspicious.

“She told me some things, that really disturbed me.” She said. Her hand reached
out, but she drew it back almost immediately. The look on her face explained
everything. Mom knew. She knew about the rape. What I need to see was how
much she was actually aware of; the details.

“I’m sorry.” I cried. I had shed so many tears today, and the volume that my tear
ducts produced was astonishing. Here I was, crying again.

She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me against her chest.

“What happened?” She asked in a raspy voice. I could tell she was crying. A
violent burst of guilt came over my mind.

“I don’t know.” I told her. “What did Jen tell you?”

“She said it was a lapse in judgment. Is that right?” Mom asked softly.

I nodded. That was enough for her to know. She didn’t need to know who raped
me, or that I was drunk. This was as far as I would ever go. She stroked my hair,
silently.

“I think we should look at therapy.” She said hesitantly. I sat up.

“No.” I said shaking my head. “I'm fine now.” I lied. I wasn’t fully recovered, I
wasn’t positive I would ever be. But I refused to do therapy.

“Oh, my baby.” She whispered.

I didn’t want to be her Baby. I wanted to be my own individual. I wasn’t a child,
and if I was strong enough to deal with this alone until now, then I could continue
to.

“I think I need some time alone Mom.”

She looked pained, but left without another word. She closed the door behind her.
I should have asked her to not to say anything to Dad, or Jacob, or Grandpa even.
Maybe she wouldn’t bring it up for a long time. Maybe she would let it go and
forget about it all.

Or maybe not.

~

“Chelsea, come help me clean up.” Grandpa said pushing his chair back from the
table and clearing a few dishes off. I nodded and copied his motions.

“Can I ask you something?” He said when we dropped the plates into the
dishwasher.

“Alright.” I said. I hoped that he wasn’t going to talk to me about the rape as well.

“What are you planning on doing now?” He asked.

“What do you mean Grandpa?”

“Well, you’re finished high school now. What are you planning on doing?”

“I guess I’ll apply at U of Vic.” I said looking at the sink. It wasn’t really on my
mind much. I had really planned to take a year off to work. My job babysitting
wasn’t paying much though.

“Well, you know you have a dual citizenship…” He trailed off, playing with a fork. I
pulled it gently from his hands and placed it in the dishwasher.

“Grandpa, where are you going with this?” I asked smiling dully.

“You know you can always come live with me.” He said looking hopeful.

“Grandpa, that’s a lot to offer and I appreciate it very much but-“

“You don’t have to decide right now. It’s just, the house will be lonely, there’s a
lot of room, and Berkley is close.” He smiled at the mention of his old school.

“I’ll let you know.” I said and smiled. Maybe he was right, so I walked back to the
table looking hopeful like my Grandpa.

~

We’re on the flight home. Ever since that night Mom told me she knew, things
have been strained. My Dad has hardly said a word to me and treats me like I'm
the most fragile glass, waiting to break. He knows.

We said goodbye to Grandpa, Jacob and Grandma one last time before we took off
for Denver. I thought a lot about what Grandpa had said before we left. It was
possible.

Our layover was super short, so I didn’t have time to visit the store again. Some
part of me was hoping that I would run into ‘Cache’ again, but I didn’t. He wasn’t
there, but it didn’t stop me from thinking about him.

I felt a hand brush mine. The plane was coming in closer to the clouds. I looked
to my right to see Mom staring at me ruefully. “I'm sorry.” She whispered. I
pulled my hand away and looked out the window, trying to focus.

“Can we not?” I said into the window.

Mom sighed and I closed my eyes. I needed something to get me past this, but it
didn’t feel like I was going to find that with my family or my friends.

I rolled my eyes. My friend Jen. What kind of a friend betrays you and tells your
mother that you were raped? I felt like biting her head off, and felt myself become
very frustrated as I sat in the tiny airplane seat. I breathed deep to calm myself. I
could talk to her when I got home.

Thinking of home, I realized that I didn’t even want to be there. For some reason,
I felt like being far from Vancouver. I wished that I were on my own, not having
to deal with anything, being left to live my life somewhere far from the places that
held any memories.

Maybe I needed California…and Berkley was one incredibly school.

“Flight attendants prepare for descent.” The captain said over the loudspeaker.
Finally. Again, I felt nauseous and was prepared to hurl up my breakfast lunch,
and dinner. I popped a piece of gum in my mouth and chewed rapidly.

The plane hit the ground and I breathed a sigh of relief.

We got of the plane.

Went through customs.

And, with silence between my parents and I, returned home.

[blatentlyobvious]

Please excuse the crappy parts..I hope you like it though! I'm sorry there isn't a ton of Joe in this right now, but there will be more to come I promise!!!! <3

Eight-


“What are you looking at?” Dad asked me cautiously. I turned the computer
towards him, showing him the home page of Berkley’s university.

“Berkley?” He asked, raising his eyebrows. “That’s ambitious.”

I looked down. I supposed now was a good a time as any to bring it up. “Grandpa
said I could go live with him.” I said and waited. I wanted to see some kind of
reaction on his face, to see it light up, or to see curiosity.

“Have you talked to your mom about it?” He said blankly.

“No.” I said. I was sort of sad that Dad didn’t seem interested. Instead he nodded
and walked to the kitchen. I sighed and went back to the course lists on the
website. I'm sure I could find something to suit my style. I was amazed at the
variation of classes available. I closed my laptop and set it on the coffee table in
front of me.

“Talked to me about what?” My mom says walking down from the hall. She still
looks nervous when she talks to me, like I’ll crumble in front of her, but I think
she’s calmed down a little. Between my parents, at the moment, she’s the
reasonable one.

“Chelsea is looking at Berkley.” Dad said quietly. He didn’t look up from the cutting
board, but just continued chopping away.

“That reminds me.” Mom said walking to the couch. She sat down on the end and
fiddled with her earring.

“Of?” I asked, letting her continue. My dad suddenly stopped, interested as well to
know what Mom had to say.

“Grandpa called. He told me he asked you if you wanted to live with him.” She
said.

“Oh.” I said looking out to False Creek.

“Do you?” She asked softly. I looked from her to my dad and nodded.

“I think I do.”

At the time, I didn’t know how much of an impact those words would have on my
life. Unknowingly, it would lead me in a direction far off the beaten path, and one
that would confuse and surprise me.

~

“They had to know!” Jen screamed. We were in the middle of her living room,
having a yelling match over her phone call to my mother.

“NO THEY DIDN’T! Where was your mind when you decided to call her up and tell
her without asking me?” I yelled throwing my arms up in frustration.

“You really think you would have said yes?!” She yelled back. I paused, and looked
away. “Exactly.” She said more calmly, reading me.

“You shouldn’t have done it.” I said narrowing my eyes. “I trusted you not to say
anything.”

“You needed help.” She reasoned.

“You didn’t help. My parents treat me like an infant now.” I said.

“Well, whatever, you can hate me know, but you know it will make things better
in the long run.”

We stood their awkwardly, staring each other down. Finally I dropped to the couch
and sighed.

“I'm moving.” I said changing the subject.

“What?!” Jen gasped.

“I'm moving to Oakland to live with my Grandpa.”

“Oh.” She said. “I'm sorry.”

Tears started to fall from our eyes and we hugged each other tight. This was
supposed to be easy. A clean break from everything, everyone. I thought that
being mad at Jen would make this easier, but really it was as hard as it could be
between us.

I knew that saying goodbye to DJ would be worse.

~

“I'm here.” DJ says through the phone. I frowned.

“I’ll be down in a minute.” I said and snapped the phone shut.

“Mom, I'm meeting DJ!” I called down the hall as I grabbed my jacket and purse
and swung them over my arm.

“Keep your phone on, don’t talk to strangers…” She continued but I ignored it.
Every time…

“I love you.” I said before closing the apartment door.

I got to the main floor and saw DJ leaning against the wall in a dark green hoodie
with the Quicksilver logo and light, stone-wash jeans I bought for him last
Christmas. I frowned. This felt like a nightmare.

“Hey.” He said hugging me. I returned the gesture but pulled away quickly. We
walked through the doors and down to the park. We found our bench and sat.

“We just going to sit here?” He asked smirking.

“I just want to talk. We haven’t talked for a while.” I said. It had been a few
weeks since the funeral, nearly three months since the rape, and four days since I
had hung out with DJ.

“We talk.” He said. He smiled but I couldn’t bring myself to do the same. “What’s
up?” He asked. He looked at me, trying to figure it out.

“You remember when I broke my leg in tenth grade?” I asked.

“Yeah. You made me your slave for like eight weeks.” He laughed. I smiled. What
could I say, he was very handy.

“Yeah, and then you stole my crutches so I couldn’t go anywhere.”

“No… I didn’t steal them ‘cause of that. I stole them to show you my hidden
talent!” He smiled and raised his eyebrows suggestively. I punched his shoulder.

“Which wasn’t your kissing.” I threw at him.

“Uncalled for.” He said blushing. I giggled.

I suppose it’s time for that story.

~

I was fifteen. DJ was sixteen, and he was playing with my crutches while I sat
miserably with a broken leg on the beaten loveseat in his basement.

“Give them back!” I groaned. “I can’t mooove. You’re making more work for
yourself.” I said and pouted.

“Oh come on. Watch this!” He said happily. He set a table up to stand on and put
his feet into the slots for grip. He grabbed an exposed two by four and stood up.
He was hunched over, too tall to stand straight up. “Stilts!” He said grinning like a
fool.

I picked up a pillow and threw it at him. He wobbled and one of the “stilts” fell. I
laughed hard as he clung to the wood on the ceiling. He kicked away the other
crutch and jumped down.

He walked over and slumped down beside me. I flipped through more channels
before I landed on Finding Neverland. My favorite. DJ hated it.

“Please?” I asked looking at him with big eyes.

“No!” He said “It’s so pointless…the story has no plot!” He rolled his eyes and
snatched the remote away. I grabbed his wrist.

“Wait. What do I have to do?” I bargained.

“Um…you have to…” He looked around, probably trying to find something horrible
for me to do, like lick the old dusty closet door.

“No repeats.” I added thinking back to Halloween two years ago. Dusty closet
doors don’t even taste good after eating a pound of chocolate. It’s like the dust
latches on to your tongue until you scrub it off with a toothbrush.

“You have to…kiss me.” He said proudly.

“Ew! No.” I said disgusted.

“Why not?” He asked. His face was serious and expectant.

“DJ, we’re friends. This isn’t going to be Beauty and the Beast again is it?” I sighed.

“I just want to know what it’s like.” He explained.

“Dude, you’ve kissed plenty of girls.” I said and rolled my eyes. “Besides, like I said
FRIENDS…”

“Please?” He begged.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.” I said. I moved over on the couch.

“I just want to know.”

“Know what?”

“If I like you.” He said baffling me.

“What?” I said taken aback. My eyes were wide and pulled my legs up. DJ liked
me? “We’ve been best friends since third grade. Don’t you think it would be weird
if we, dated?” I said spitting out the last word.

“I don’t want to date you.” He said. Oh, well that should have made me feel
better. But it was kind of a slap on the hand. I glared. “No, well, I mean, I don’t
think I want to date you. I want to know if there’s anything there.” He explained.
I was silent and uncomfortable. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like?”

“No.” I lied. There were a few times I had questioned my feelings for DJ, but every
time they brought me back to friends.

“Please? One kiss. We can leave out the tongue.” I pretended to gag.

“And then you’ll let me watch Neverland?” I asked curious.

“Yup! Promise.”

I shrugged. I leaned forward and slowly kissed DJ. His lips were soft, and wet, but
I can honestly say that I didn't feel at thing. It got awkward fast and he pulled
back.

“You could have given me a heads up!” He laughed. I grinned.

“It’s more fun when you don’t see it coming.” I smiled. “So?”

“All clear Belle.” He chuckled.

You would have thought that the two of us would have experienced some kind of
strange barrier after that kiss, but it really didn’t have any affect on us. We
watched the movie. That was that. DJ and I weren’t meant to be anything past
friends, and I that was clear after that day.

~

“It wasn’t that bad.” I said as we watched the water.

“Still embarrassing.” He said.

“You’re face when the crutch fell was what you should really be worried about.” I
laughed lightly.

“Why are you bringing all this up?” He asked turning to carve something into the
bench. I watched as his pocket knife moved.

“I don’t know. Am I allowed to be nostalgic once in a while?” I asked nervously.

“You are never nostalgic. Ever.” He said looking up. He met my gaze and looked
back knowingly.

“Yes I am.” I argued and looked away.

“Nope. So what’s going on? Because you’re either dying, or you’re moving.
Neither one of those is good, and either way you’re leaving me.” He said
disappointed.

“I'm moving…but how did you know?” I asked surprised.

“Chelsea, when you know someone as long as I’ve known you, its really easy to
figure things out. Do you ever have trouble reading me?” He asked and looked
back at his work. It said: “she’s leaving.” In sharp letters.

“No.”

“Well, there you go.” He said smiling victoriously.

“Could you at least pretend to be sad?” I huffed and turned away.

“I am.” He said. “I promise I am. But I think that maybe this will be really good
for you. It could be what you need.”

I leaned over and hugged him tight around his neck.

“You’re the first person to understand.”

[blatentlyobvious]

I HATE THIS CHAPTER SO MUCH.. It's terrible and I'm sorry.

Nine –

“That’s it then?” Dad asked as we dropped the bags off.

“Yeah.” I smiled sadly. Mom wasn’t here. She said it would be too hard to watch
me leave. We had a long talk about visiting and everything that had happened
lately. We cleared the air. I started to think this might have been easier with her
here; for dad and me.

I felt a gnawing feeling in my mind telling me not to leave them. Of course I felt
that way. I was moving far from home, to another country and from everything
and everyone I knew. But I needed this.

“Alright Baby Girl. I love you.” Dad said smiling weakly. A look of hesitation pulled
across his face before he hugged me tight. I felt a lump in my throat and tears
stinging at my eyes.

“Daddy I'm sorry.” I said letting tears blur my vision. For some reason, I felt that,
after everything that happened, and especially the rape, I owed him an apology.
He hadn’t been the same person, and the same could be said for myself.

“Chelsea don’t be sorry.” He said leaning his head against mine. We stood for a
moment, and it was like everything was normal again. “I don’t want you to miss
your flight.” Dad said pulling away. “I love you.”

I wiped my faced and reached up and kissed his cheek. “I love you too Daddy.”

He waved and watched as I walked towards the gate.

“Chelsea?” He called. I turned to look at him. “Be careful.” He said and I waved.
I kept walking, headed towards the gate that would open my future without
hesitation. No, for once in my life, I had a sense of direction. And when I boarded
that plane, I knew I was on my way home.

~

I'm embarrassed to say that when the flight got to Oakland, I nearly knocked my
poor grandfather over. He laughed it off and he seemed just as excited that I was
here.

We were walking out to the parking lot with the luggage cart when my eyes
spotted the Doge Dart Phoenix. You remember, this was my dream car.

“Grandpa, look!” I said whispering. I felt as though it was a rare creature that
couldn’t be disturbed. Grandpa looked around waiting to see what I was so thrilled
about. I pointed to the car. “It’s my dream car!” I said smiling ear to ear.

Grandpa chuckled. “Mine too.” He said and pulled out his keys. I started walking
again, expecting to see his car somewhere close by. “Where are you going?”
Grandpa asked as I passed the Phoenix. I looked at him, expecting that he would
understand. He was waiting by the Phoenix, holding the keys in his hands. My
mouth dropped.

“That’s yours?” I asked wide eyes. He nodded as his smile grew. I ran over with
the cart. “I love you!” I squeaked. He chuckled again as I ran my hand over the
tail fins. Beautiful.

“Thank you for doing this.” Grandpa said as he unlocked the trunk. I looked at
him surprised at his thank-you.

“You don’t have to thank me Grandpa. It would make me feel bad.” I said shaking
my head.

“What do you mean sweetheart?” He asked lifting a bag in. Alternately I put one
in.

“Well, I sort of came for a selfish reason too.” I admitted. I walked the cart up to
the curb and left it by the return. I carefully opened the passenger door and slid
in. “I needed an escape I guess.” I continued. He nodded. “Stuff happens, and I
think sometimes, change is the best way to deal with it.”

“I think out of everything I’ve heard after your Grandma’s death, that makes the
most sense.” He said staring out the front.

“I love you Grandpa.” I said quietly. He faced me and I could see tears glistening
against his cheeks.

“I love you too Chelsea, and I thank God that you’re helping me through this.”
Grandpa said. He turned the ignition and we drove out to the freeway.

~

My Grandparents had bought their Oakville home seven years ago, but the actual
building was 30 years old. It was their escape when they retired. As we walked to
the old house with my bags, Grandpa and I were silent. He set one of my
suitcases down and dug out his key. The house was big and beautiful with a little
porch out front and two stories.

“Thanks.” I said as he held the door for me. I walked in and smiled.

The walls were an easy cream color with little stenciled flowers around the top.
The baseboards were bright white and followed the hall way into an open space.

“Go look around.” Grandpa said. I set my suitcases down and wondered in the
direction of the light. The hall opened up to a beautiful area.

The kitchen, on my left, had black stone counters and cherry wood cupboards. It
was raised, and there were three little stairs leading down into a wider space. A
round table with four chairs was by a sliding glass door. His backyard was small,
but it had a big white deck that definitely made up for a lack of a pool. The living
room was to the right, and down on the lower level. There was a couch and one
chair, and a big screen TV, though I knew my Grandparents weren’t much for
television.

I walked back to the front.

“Wow. It’s really nice Grandpa.” I said smiling. He nodded and picked up two
suitcases.

“I’ll show you your room.” He said heading up the stairs. I grabbed the other two
and followed behind him.

If possible, the upstairs was even bigger. The hall was wide, and three doors lined
each side with a single one at the end. The walls upstairs were a light green with
the same baseboards. Grandpa set a bag down outside the single door and opened
it. Sunshine flooded the hall. I walked in behind him and put the suitcases by the
closet. The room was big, with a patio that overlooked the backyard and past that
the river. The feeling reminded me of home, though the view was much different.
The queen size bed was smack in the middle of the west wall and an open door
gave a glance at a beautiful white bathroom.

“This is mine?” I asked gratefully. “I mean it’s the master bedroom. Shouldn’t
you be in here?” I added.

“No sweetheart. I like my room. This is the guest room.” He said. He left me
with my things and I went to sit on the bed. This was my new home. I just
needed to get things in order.

~

“Hi Mrs. Sampson, it’s Chelsea.” I said when I dialed DJ’s number.

“Chelsea darling! How are you doing?” She asked excitedly. I wouldn’t call DJ’s
mom a gossip mongrel, but she loved to know things.

“I'm doing alright. Oakland is beautiful.” I said. I smiled as she asked me more
about my flight, and how my grandpa was doing. “It’s better.”

“Good. Well, I’ll put DJ on dear. He’s missing you terribly!” I heard DJ laugh in the
background and felt a pang of sadness.

“Good to talk to you Mrs. Sampson.” I said, as I always did before she handed the
phone over to my best friend.

“Chelsea!” DJ sang into the phone. I laughed.

“Hey DJ. How’s life?” I asked smiling.

“My heart is empty.” He said in a mock-emo voice. “Ouch.”

“What?” I asked sitting up.

“Oh, well I guess I'm just so accustomed to you punching my arm after something
like that…I miss you Chels.” He said. I laughed.

“I miss you too. It’s hard to grasp the fact that I won’t see you for so long.” I said
frowning. I squinted as sun from the back yard hit my eyes. I was sitting on the
couch while Grandpa ran out to get groceries. It had been a week since I got here,
and I was pretty much settled in.

I had a bowl of cherries in front of me. I popped another in my mouth.

“It will go by faster than you know.” He said trying to comfort me. I knew he was
wrong though. Leaving DJ behind was like having a piece of me missing. I heard a
car door and with the phone in hand walked to the front. “What have you been up
to?” DJ asked.

“Not a lot. My stuff is here and I'm pretty much settled in. One sec all right? My
Grandpa is home with the groceries.” I said unlocking the door.

“Alright.”

I set the phone on the table by the door and ran out to the car to help.

“Hi Grandpa.” I said smiling.

“Chelsea kiddo. You want to give me a hand?” He asked as he grabbed a few
paper bags. I grabbed the other three, balancing them in my arms and closed the
trunk.

“You found everything alright?” I asked setting the bags down on the kitchen
counter.

“It was hard actually.” He said putting his hands on the edge of the counter.
“You’re Grandma and I used to do that together.”

“I'm sorry Grandpa.” I said hugging him. He sighed.

“I'm sure it will be easier.”

I remembered I was on the phone with DJ and pulled away.

“Sorry! I was just talking to someone on the phone. I’ll tell him I’ll call him back.”
I said and scuttled down the hallway to grab the phone.

“DJ?” I said picking it up.

“Still here.” He said. I smiled.

“I’ll call you later alright?”

“Okay. Love yah Chels.”

“You too.” I said and hung up the phone.

I walked back to the kitchen and set the phone down on the counter.

“Grandpa?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think you could help me find a job soon?” I asked quietly.

“Sure. Do you know what you want to do?” He asked as he put the tomatoes in
the drawer.

“Journalism.” I said smiling. “It’s always been a dream of mine.”

A look of delight came across his face. “You’re a writer?” He said enthused.

I laughed. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Would it matter where you worked?” He said as he grabbed the phone.

“An office I guess.” I said not understanding him.

“I mean, would you be willing to drive a little ways to get there?”

“I guess not.” I laughed. He was so happy that I couldn’t help but let it rub off on
me.

“I think I just found you one.”