Chapter After the Last One

I felt drained, empty, like the substance that had been filling me up was now gone, and a hundred other things were rushing to take that space. I slipped Mohawk back into his cage, hoping that Grey wouldn't notice my hands quivering.

"Eff it," I whispered quietly to myself, realizing how much I was trying to control what he could already see. My hands shook and my feet danced restlessly, I couldn't get the lid to Mohawk's cage back on, tears were beginning to form and I was constantly sucking blood from an aching lip.

Grey stood up, gently moved my hands and did the latch on the cage. He handed me a tissue from my desk, which I took gratefully, first wiping my tears then my lip. Small patches of red appeared on the tissue. I sucked my lip, salty blood mixing with saliva.

"Alice? Alice, let's go out. Take a walk."

"Okay," I didn't have the energy to resist. He took my hand, squeezed it for a minute. "If you go tell your mum that we're going for a walk, I'll go out the window and ring the bell. I don't want her to be suspicious about me being in the house after she just sent me away."

I nodded, sniffled. My mother was surprised to see me, awkward, not quite sure what to say. I didn't want to talk about what had happened, I wasn't ready, not yet. She let me go out, with promises to be back within the hour. The doorbell rang.

~~~~~~~~~~

We didn't speak. There was nothing left to be said. I held his hand, and that was comforting. A sudden and vicious wave of exhaustion had hit me. His hand was warm, warm and gentle and strong, and I needed it, I needed it to stay up.

I paused by the entrance to the pond. I wondered sleepily if I wanted to enter, really wanted to go in. "They found a piece of his shirt here." It was the first word that either of us had uttered since leaving the house. He squeezed my hand. A large white sign hung on the gate.

CLOSED FOR CONSTRUCTION

So they were redoing the pond. My senses were dulled, I didn't have the energy care. Tomorrow, I would. But not now. Beyond the wire fence the construction didn't seem to have really started, the benches had been pulled out and stacked, a small bulldozer parked in the corner. The pond though, and the trees and the bushed, had been left untouched for now.

Grey glanced over at me. He stuck a shoe into the fence, tested the wire's strength and hoisted himself up. "You coming?" I smiled, still licking tears that fell to my lips. The fence dug into my palms, but we were soon at the top, where we tumbled down back down on the other side.

Brushing ourselves off, he reached for my hand again.

I felt calmer now, softer almost, if one can feel soft. Sleepy, relaxed. I glanced up at the small tree, the tree where I had, five years ago, found a torn piece of cloth. I didn't know what they were going to do to this place, tear it down maybe. I wondered if the tree would stay. Grey led me to a large boulder near the edge of the pond. Resting on the boulder, I closed my eyes and leaned against his shoulder, the sounds, the sounds that were so alive, crickets and birds, small animals that rustled in the undergrowth, licking in and out of my brain. My lips were sore and chapped, but they no longer bled.

I peeked at the tree again as Grey wrapped his arm around my shoulder. Maybe, I thought, Grey's smell and the exhaustion from what I had finally done taking it's toll on me, maybe it's time for them to rebuild this pond. It needs some cleaning up. The last thing I saw before I fell asleep on his shoulder was Grey's faded red shirt, and I smiled.

Chapter Twenty Seven (sorta, I think)

He hoisted his arm up so that he was holding on by his armpits, bare feet most likely gripping the drain pipe. I know. I could get up and down that gutter pipe with my eyes closed.


"A hand please?" Grey grunted, shifting.


"Oh I'm sorry, what did you say?" I thought briefly of smiling innocently, but I didn't feel like smiling in any way, shape, or form, so I didn't.


"Help up. Please," he was going red.


"I really think that I have something in my ear. Let me go wash it out. One minute."


I chuckled bitterly, walked to the bathroom and back.


"Okay better. What did you want?" He was still struggling.


"Hell-" he grunted.


"You bad boy." I didn't say it with any enthusiasm.


He made the 'p' sound. "HELP!"


"Oh. Why didn't you just say so?" I hauled him in. He brushed himself off. "The door," I pointed, "is that way. I highly recommend that you use it."

He ignored me, kicking aside plates of stale pizza and bags of crisps that had spilled across the floor. He sat down on the bed and surveyed the room.

"Want to talk?" I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

"What do you think?"

"That you need to get your butt out of this room." I shot what I hoped was a piercing glance in his direction.

"Grey, I have stuff to do. I would love you to stay, but that's just not going to happen. Thanks for stopping by."

He didn't move. I wriggled my toes inside my socks, listening to the silence. It was quiet, and the quiet hung like a barrier between us. It reminded me of what I needed to do, what I had needed to do for the past five years, what he knew I needed to do.

"I should have told not to get on the bus. We had dentist appointments, and our parents were picking us up." I shifted. Grey waited.

"But he got on the bus, because I forgot to tell him not to. When we found out that he was on the bus, we drove to the bus stop. We met one of the kids on the way, he rode that bus," I paused, walked over to Mohawk's cage. I glanced at Grey. He was watching me.

Picking Mohawk up, I continued,"He told us that yes, he had seen Jimmy on the bus. The bus had just stopped at our stop. So we drove along the roads that Jimmy and I walked every day," I stroked Mohawk gently. He moved his bad leg awkwardly. Grey smiled encouraging. "My mum had this look on her face. It was as if someone had drawn wrinkles on her forehead. In ten minutes she looked ten years older. 'He's probably at home. Yes, he is.' She started arguing with herself. My dad was all business.

"He wasn't at home. He wasn't anywhere. An hour later, we called the police. An amber alert was sent out. The entire community flooded us with flowers and cards. They formed search parties."

I bit my lip. Mohawk sat contently in my palm. I examined his back as I continued, "But they didn't find him. They didn't even find a suspect. No one knew, no one does know, if he was taken or if he just wandered off and couldn't get back home. After a year we sorta gave up hope.

"My mum, she just stopped everything. She got a new wardrobe. No more flowy skirts, no colourful jewelry. Just business suits. She quit going to feminist meetings. She stopped cooking. She hired a maid to do that, so that she could spend all day cleaning. Don't ask."

"My dad, he just left, not as in got a new house, but he might have well of. He got promoted. He stopped playing pool in the basement. He didn't always come home for dinner. He still doesn't."

"This family didn't pull together. We just separated. I still remember lying on the floor in my room, and everything that I didn't want was in my head. The tears were pouring down my cheeks. And I knew, Grey, I knew that my mum was in her room, doing the exact same thing. But I couldn't go to her. I just couldn't." I glanced up at Grey. His head was down, staring at his hands, fidgeting in his lap.

He looked up at me. "What about you Alice? What happened to you?"

I smiled bitterly. "After a year, no one wanted to face it. No one has even now. Jimmy was dead. He couldn't still be alive." I bit my lip violently, my jaw quivering with strngth, gentle tears forming. My teeth broke the skin and small droplets of blood flowed into my mouth. I kissed Mohawk gently, swallowing the blood. "After that time in my room, I realized how pointless this was. I hated it. I friggin' hated going home every day and sobbing alone on the floor of my room. So I stopped. I just stopped. I kept my mouth shut. I stopped trying to tell my parents that I was sorry. I went quiet. I stopped believing in people. In life. I just gave up.

"But I still blamed myself. I still do."

"Why?" He brought his head up and waited.

"Because it was my fault. I should have told Jimmy not to go on the bus. I never did. If I had, he would still be here. But I didn't, and he's not. I killed him Grey, it was my fault."

There was a long pause. I watched thoughts running through his head. I held a proud face, but tears were streaming gently down my face. I rubbed Mohawk with the back of my thumb.

Grey looked up at me. I looked, gazed, stared into his eyes. I didn't know what he saw in mine, but I gave it to him. I let him see, I let him have whatever was there for him to take.

"I'm sorry," he said finally, looking back down at his hands. I looked back at Mohawk, ran my tongue along the cuts on my lip.

"I am too Grey. I am too."

Chapter Twenty Six

I counted the dots on my ceiling. I connected them. When I had finished that, I made up stories for the dot creatures. And when I was done that, I stared at the ceiling some more.

There was a knock on the door.

"No!"

"Alice."

"I'm changing," I didn't move.

"Grey is here." My mother sounded anxious. I could imagine her on the other side of the door, leaning back, wondering what to do with her screwed up daughter. Well, she could do whatever she darn well pleased. I wasn't moving.

"Alice, please unlock the door and let Grey in." I didn't say anything. She sighed heavily and her footsteps sounded away from the door. I imagined her telling Grey how sorry she was, but Alice is feeling sick right now, why don't you come back another time thank-you-very-much. I felt a little sorry, but I got over it.

The ceiling was an off white cream colour. There were small little scratches and a few little dots. There was a mark from where I had thrown a sticky frog up there a few years back.

Pling.

I jumped and swiveled my head around. A face peered in at me from the window. I rolled my eyes angrily, getting up. I threw open the window.

"What'd you want Grey?"

Summary for New Readers

Yeah, I know, there's a whole lot here, and chances are, you'd look at it all, say, "Oh I'll read it later," and never come back.

So here is a quick summary. Details are not included.

When Alice Hayes was ten, her brother, who was five, got off the school bus by himself. Alice had gotten a ride but forgotten to tell her brother Jimmy. After getting off the school bus, Jimmy never reached home.

No one knows what happened to him. However, five years later, Alice's life isn't all fun and games. Her father is always at work and her mother has grown tense and believes that each and every speck of the house should be spotless. Alice is sarcastic and cold, she would rather run away than stick around.

Alice and the new kid on the block rescue a frog off the middle of the street and help him get better. Alice however has recently discovered that she wants to be more than friends with the 'new kid' Grey, but she's still struggling with guilt over her brother.

Please read as much as the story as you can, because I assure you that it is a lot better than this summary!

Enjoy and please comment!

Chapter Twenty Seven (I think)

"Alice?" I jumped as I swung around a crowded corner, Grey's face inches from my own.

"Oh, Grey, sorry," I apologized, embarrassed, and dodged around him, merging into the throng of students pressing to get to class. The moment replayed itself in my head, a stupid collision, nothing that really mattered.

Yet I couldn't stop thinking about him. I wandered toward my class, my mind replaying the scene and replaying and replaying. It was working, my mind, pushing, asking for something.

"Really, just try to work through this stuff."

I could feel my heart thumping against the binder that I crushed against my chest.

"You don't even have to come in."

Thump, thump. Something was slipping. Is slipping. Was, is is is was is was

Where is he? Where is he? Mum? Why isn't he home?

Students pushed pass me, one after another.

Well it won't do the little thing any good sitting there like that"

Grey, Grey.

I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, next time I'll tell him, next time I'll wait for him. Please, where is he?

No, no, Grey, please, Grey.

Where is he? Where is he? Why isn't he here?

It's rising in my throat, it's too big, I can't control it, hot tears,

"Haha yeah, how about Kermit?"

start streaming, streaming down my face,

You keep it! No, no, it's his, he found it at the beach, it's his stone, it's not mine, no

I can't, I can't, Grey, Jimmy, Grey, Mohawk, my head, no, no, my head

no, take it, please take it, get it out of my pocket, I can't take it, I can't I can't because, because

it hurts, where are my legs they are on the floor, why am I on the floor why is everyone staring at me

BECAUSE I KILLED HIM

Where am I? Jimmy? Jimmy? We're taking the bus today, please sweetie, get on the bus with me, come on, the bell just rung, we need to catch the bus, help me up I need to get up and get the bus, please

"I sure turned that smile upside down."

My head hit the floor and my eyes slammed shut.

YAHOOO!!!

IT WORKED!!!!! ENJOY EVERYONE!

Chapter Twenty Four

"Would you bring me the sewing box in my cuboard please?" Mum asked from her sewing chair in the living room.

I agreed and slipped into her closet. It was a small closet, long, but wide enough just for her outfits to hang without brushing the door. I brushed past proper buisness suits, colourless flower prints. I stubbed my toe on something, gave a little yelp. Bending down, I picked up the sewing box. It was a dark wood, with a quilted pattern on the front. As I turned to leave, my hand ran against a silky texture.

The dress was far too small to fit my mother now, it was a teenager's dress. A cascade of deep red silk flowed to the floor. The top was bunched together, two beaded straps hung down over the dress, earthy brown beads and small shimmering silver ones that would grace the wearer's shoulders.

"Alice!" I snapped out of my thoughts as my mother's voice pierced the quiet. I dashed down the steps, handed her the sewing box at the bottom.

"Mum?" She looked up from the repair she was doing to a pair of black pants. "Who's dress is that in your closet? The red one?"

She smiled ruefully. "It was my prom dress."

I smiled back and rushed upstairs, thoughts of my mother, young, smiling, free of this burden, this pressure that held her shoulders tense, the red silk flowing down her legs, a handsome young man at her side.

Before I know it the dress was gently resting in my arms, and I was carrying it carefully up to my room on the third floor. I pulled off my jeans and t-shirt, undo a zip at the side of the gown. I hadn't brushed my hair for a few hours, it hung loose and slightly puffed around my shoulders. I stepped delicately into the dress, easing it around my body.

I thought quietly of Jimmy, a teenager, wearing a tux, greeting his girl. I straightened, maneuvered my arms into the beaded strap. My chest didn't quite fill out the front, but there was a gentle curve around my hips that the fabric subtly accented. The silk didn't shimmer, but it glowed where the light hit it.

My body slowly roatating, my thoughts wandered to Grey. I thought of his hair, his hands, his deep green eyes that looked straight into places I didn't know existed. It came like the fire that flares as a match is lit, I love him, I love him, and he is, and I am, and I want us to be together, I want feel those stong arms around me. Those full lips pressed against mine, and my body is aching, aching with this thing I didn't know exsisted.

I hugged myself. I wistfully slipped off the dress, touched the fabric lightly, changed back into my clothes. I wondered if Jimmy would have ever felt this way about a girl. And I realized, I understood, that Jimmy may or may not have felt like this if he were here, yet even though he isn't, I feel this way about Grey, and I love him, and I love him, and I love him.

Whoops!

Just wanted to say a quick sorry that Chapter Twenty Two and Twenty Three are switched, that's my fault.

Chapter Twenty Two

Dr. Fortin smiled and slowly removed the cast. She ran a finger down Mohawk's back. I looked at our little frog and I thought of how I loved that little guy, the stripe down his back, the way he let us pet him.

Grey smiled at me. I ignored my blushing cheeks as Dr. Fortin handed me the frog. I kissed his head gently. The cold, slightly clammy flesh sent small goosebumps up my spine, but I kissed the frog anyway before raising my hands up to eye level.

"Hey hot shot! You got your cast off little one," I cooed.

Chapter Twenty Three

I smiled sweetly at Blair and my mother. "I won't go anywhere, I promise," I pleaded as I fingered the phone in my pocket. I needed to get out of here, even if it was just for a minute. These people were frustrating me, I needed, craved, another person to talk to, just for a minute.

"You be back in five minutes or else." My mother glared mildly at me.

I slipped out of the door and into the restrooms, locking myself into one of the stalls. I leaned up against the wall and dialed Grey's number. It rang once, twice. Pick up. Please, I willed into the phone, I need you. His answering machine asked me to please leave a message after the tone. I didn't.

I strode back into Blair's office. They both smiled at me. "So Alice, how does it make you feel when your father misses dinner or an event important to you?" I had a burning desire to ask how much this quiz was worth, but I bit my tongue.

~

When I looked around the classroom before presentations, I had to admit that our project was one of the best. The poster was colourful and bright, the well-taken photos of Mohawk adding a nice touch.

I smiled at Grey. He smiled back. Alice! I yelled at myself as my stomach flipped, this is Grey you're looking at. I commented weakly on how well our project had turned out, how hard we had worked on it.

Looking at the project, I thought fondly of Mohawk, the brown stripe down his back, the little spot on his face. I felt the clammy way his skin was when you kissed his back .

Ms. Ven looked up at Grey at I, "Your turn to present Miss Hayes and Mr. Fortin."

Chapter Twenty One

I ran a finger along Mohawk's back, cooed and smiled before placing him back in his page. Grey looked up from the project and asked me how the family counseling went.

"Horrible thank you."

"Will it get better?"

"Yes, I think it will." I closed the frog's cage and smiled at Grey. He smiled back, one of those soft, warm smiles. I felt the blood rising to my cheeks and turned away, confused. I gingerly ran a finger along the side of my face. I couldn't honestly like a boy, like like him.

He stood up, putting away a pair of scissors as he did so. I pushed away any romantic feelings I had and walked him down the steps and out the door. The sun had set went I waved goodbye.

I went back upstairs, said goodnight to my mother and brushed my teeth. My father was still at work.

I snuggled, smiling, comfortable, into the thick duvet. The warm swallowed me, and I let myself fall into the bed, into the lure of the blankets, the Closing my eyes, the cozy moment of climbing into bed overwhelmed me. Smiling to myself, I tried to push away the thought of Grey's smile. I couldn't.

I went to sleep that night thinking about a boy different from the one I had spent many years dreaming about.

Chapter Twenty

I was still fuming Sunday morning. I banged a plate of toast down on the table, being careful to side at the opposite end of the table as my mother. I chewed the toast viciously, titanic bites that bulged at the side of my cheeks. My mother quietly asked me to stop. I chewed harder.

I stood up to put another piece of toast in the toaster. Crumbs were scattered about my shirt, my mouth speared with jelly. My mother pursed her lips, watching the dreaded crumbs fall onto her spotless tile floor. It made me wince chewing like that, I hate messy eaters, but I pulled it off, and my mother was, though she didn't show it, thoroughly disgusted.

Slipping out of the shower, I pulled on a sweater and a pair of jeans. The doorbell rang. I ran a brush through my hair as I dashed to get it.

"Oh. Hi." Grey stood in the doorframe, his strong, slender build perched on the top step.

"I was going to run down to the supermarket at the end of the road, my mum needs some baking soda. Do you wanta come?"

I smiled, yelled over my shoulder at my mum, and, without waiting for her answer, Grey and I set off.

"So what's up this weekend?"

"Not much. I have some junk to do on Monday, but other than that just boreing old week."

"What kind of junk?"

"Oh, this family counseling. My mother wants us to go."

"That sounds intresting." I glanced up at him.

"It sounds like crap." He questioned me as to why. He was getting on my nerves again. I hated it when people asked me how I felt. I glanced at his grey eyes.

"Because," I say, "my family is annoying. I haven't seen my dad home from work for more than two hours since," I paused. I didn't tell him the bit about running away from the last appointment I had with Blair, "a while. My mother is too prim and proper to admit that she has a problem. My dad doesn't care."

"Why don't you go?"

"I'll just blow it off. We should go out with Emily and them Monday night."

"No." I looked at him, surpised. Grey continued, "You should go. Really. Just try, you know, to work through this stuff."

I didn't say anything. He did. "Please. Just this once. I know that familes suck, my parents divorced when I was ten, and when my mother remarried I thought that I'd hate my stepdad." I didn't know this piece of infomation, we rarely talked about familes, I avoided it. He smiled and me. "But now, he's one of the best guys I know."

"Please just go. Just this once."

Chapter Nineteen

I sifted my peas around my plate with my fork. Dad stuffed the mashed potatoes hungrily into his mouth, while Mum delicately placeed a pea in her mouth.

"We had a call from one of your teachers this afternoon," Dad started.

"Oh really? Which one?" I knew perfectly well the who what where of this situation, but caring was a different matter.

"Mrs. V something."

"Yep."

"Alice."

"Mm?" I ignored the warning in his voice.

"Your teacher says that you are falling behind. She's had your study periods changed so that you'll be with her. We also talked to your guidance counselor. He thinks that you should drop art until you can pick up your English grade."

"Okay. My art teacher has issues anyway."

"What kind of issues?"

"My guidance counselor encouraged you to talk to me about this didn't he?"

My father ignored me, proving my point. "What kind of issues?"

"Stuff." He encourages me to explain. I don't.

"Alice, your guidance counselor Mr. Blatt also recommends that we take you back to Blair, the psychiatrist. We have an appointment Monday."

"We?"

"Yes," my mother picked up from here, "Family counseling."

Chapter Eighteen

Grey gently places the frog back into his tank. "We really should name the little thing you know. It's been about a month."

"Yeah you're right." I handled the bag of insects carefully, made sure that the opening was fully in the tank. I slid the cover shut as far as I could. The crickets fell into the frog's home as I shook the clear plastic bag. The lid firmly shut, I trashed the waste from that day's tank cleaning.

"It's sort of pointless to call him Hoppy with a broken leg isn't it?" I squirted Purell onto my hands.

"Haha yeah. How about Kermit?" Grey suggested.

"Jefferson?"

"George Bush?" I laugh.

"Mohawk. You know, 'cause of that stripe down his back."

Grey smiled and agreed. We both paused and looked at the little fellow. He was a faint brown, small splashes of darker brown floating about on his body. His little leg, wrapped in a baby splint, looked awkard and out of place. A deep expresso stripe ran down his back.

"Oh shoot. I've got to get home." Grey checked his watch. I nod, waved him off when we reached the front door.

Going back to my room, I picked up the little brown frog. "Hey sweetie. Do you like your new name?" Mohawk didn't answer. He squirmed slightly, but soon stopped. I stroked his back gently, moved him closer to my face. Smiling, I touched my lips gently on his back. "You're a cute little frog aren't you?" I smiled at him as I drew my head away. I placed Mohawk delicatly back in his cage and went downstairs to finish up my homework.

Chapter Twenty Four

"Would you bring me the sewing box in my cuboard please?" Mum asked from her sewing chair in the living room. I agreed and slipped into her closet. It was a small closet, long, but wide enough just for her outfits to hang without brushing the door. I brushed past proper buisness suits, colourless flower prints. I stubbed my toe on something, gave a little yelp. Bending down, I picked up the sewing box. It was a dark wood, with a quilted pattern on the front. As I turned to leave, my hand ran against a silky texture.


The dress was far too small to fit my mother now, it was a teenager's dress. A cascade of deep red silk flowed to the floor. The top was bunched together, two beaded straps hung down over the dress, earthy brown beads and small shimmering silver ones that would grace the wearer's shoulders.

"Alice!" I snapped out of my thoughts as my mother's voice pierced the quiet. I dashed down the steps, handed her the sewing box at the bottom.

"Mum?" She looked up from the repair she was doing to a pair of black pants. "Whos dress is that in your closet? The red one?"

She smiled ruefully. "It was my prom dress." I smiled back and rushed upstairs, thoughts of my mother, young, smiling, free of this burden, this pressure that holds her shoulders tense, the red silk flowing down her legs, a handsome young man at her side.


Before I know it the dress is gently resting in my arms, and I am carrying it carefully up to my room on the third floor. I pull off my jeans and t-shirt, undo a zip at the side of the gown. I hadn't brushed my hair for a few hours, it hung loose and slightly puffed around my shoulders. I stepped delicately into the dress, easing it around my body. I thought quietly of Jimmy, a teenager, wearing a tux, greeting his girl.


I straightened, maneuvered my arms into the beaded strap. My chest didn't quite fill out the front, but there was a gentle curve around my hips that the fabric subtly accented. The silk didn't shimmer, but it glowed where the light hit it. My body slowly roatatin, my thoughts wandered to Grey. I thoughtof his hair, his hands, his deep green eyes that looked straight into places I didn't know existed.


It came like the fire that flares as a match is lit, I love him, I love him, and he is, and I am, and I want us to be together, I want feel those stong arms around me. Those gentle lips pressed against mine, and my body is aching, aching with this thing I didn't know exsisted.


I hugged myself. I wistfully slipped off the dress, touched the fabric lightly, changed back into my clothes. I wondered if Jimmy would have ever felt this way about a girl. And I realized, I understood, that Jimmy may or may not have felt like this if he were here, yet even though he isn't, I feel this way about Grey, and I love him, and I love him, and I love him.

Chapter Seventeen

I racked through the jeans, looking for a medium. Small, extra small, large. No medium. I sighed.

"He likes you." I jumped. Emily smiled at me, rows of straight teeth sparkling between cherry red lips. Her curly black hair fell in ringlets around her shoulders. "What?"

"Grey. He likes you."

"No, he doesn't."


She snorted. "Yes he does. Look at the way he flirts with you!"

"We're friends. We're partners in the science fair together." I thought of the little frog, wondered if he was okay. The little guy was doing better, his splint would come off next week. He still wasn't ready to go out into the wild, but he was on the mend.

Emily interrupted my thoughts, "He's so been flirting with you. Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

"Yes. He was a jerk."

"They often are." We sniggered. I gave up the search for jeans. We left Macy's, huddled in a group, chatting, giggling. I had never felt such a part of anything, never been the one to smile stupidly or laugh at a pointless joke.


But it was a Yo Mamma joke that set it off. My thoughts rushed to my own 'mamma,' her shoulders, her super clean life. Then it was Jimmy, it was Jimmy, and I was laughing, and Jimmy wasn't, Jimmy was gone, and I shouldn't laugh, I couldn't smile. Jimmy wasn't, and I was, and why should I have fun when it was my fault, all my fault.



They continued laughing. I slipped off into the restroom. The door bolted, I slid down into the corner, my black hair sweeping over my shoulders, obscuring my view.



"Where's you brother?" She has on a light, flowy dress, patterned in magenta flowers. I don't know, I tell her. I think back to the morning, it was a rush, I don't quite remember. Fifteen minutes tick by. My father offers to go ask one of the teachers, I see his back as he heads toward the school. A thought trickles into my head.



"Mum! Mum, I forgot to tell him. We were rushing to school, and I forgot to tell him that we were being picked up. He's on the bus." Mum smiles, a worried smile, and tells me to run after my father. I do. I crash into his tall legs. He turns around, a loose, strong face trimmed with a goatee. He looks down at me as I explain and he pulls my hand as we turn to jog to my mother. My lunchbag whacks the side of my knee with each stride.

They whisper quietly as I tease a loose thread in my shirt. Daddy runs back into the building, he is quick.


"No," he says when he comes back. Creases of worry line my mother's face. The thread is now all the way out, I put it in my mouth and chew. "His bus left twenty minutes ago."

Chapter Sixteen

Rod, Max, Sammy, Emily, Grey and I sat down at a table, our trays heaped with a variety of junk food. I nibbled quietly at a slice of pizza. They discussed what shop to go to next. I kept a distance from the conversation. "Alice, where would you like to go?"Rod questioned.

"Nowhere."


He looked taken back, but returned to the conversation. Grey kept glancing over at me, made eye contact quickly then looked away. It was annoying. The group ditched their trays and headed, laughing, to the next shop. I slowly put my trash in the bin. Grey stopped to tie his shoelace again. This was annoying me. His shoelace didn't even need tying.

I walked ahead. The group had already gone on, the boys telling dumb jokes, the girls giggling just as stupidly. Grey caught up to me. "Smile."

"What?" I shook my head, questioning this demand.

"Smile." My lips curled up slightly, but my eyebrows furrowed at him with a look that said, "This is stupid."

"That's not a smile."


"Okay?"

I glanced at his tall frame. Then suddenly, his hands were around my waist, and I was in the air, upside down, my hair hanging loose and waving gently against the floor. I didn't notice the quizzical stares that took in a tall boy holding a shrieking girl upside down. "PUT ME DOWN! GREY!"

Ahead of us, the group turned around. "Grey!" Emily giggled, "What are you doing? Put the poor thing down." He smiled. Grey put a hand under my back, cradled me for a quick second. Had I been madly in love with him, I would have kissed him, right there, nesting in his strong arms. However, I was not madly in love. And anyway, I wasn't nesting in arms. In fact, I was shrieking. He let go of my legs, set me gently on the floor.


"WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?" I was on him instantly. The group had already headed toward the next shop.

He grinned, "I sure turned that frown upside down didn't I?" I couldn't help it. My lips slowly formed a smile, and before I knew it, for the first time in five years, I was laughing. Laughing because something was funny, laughing because laughter felt right.

Chapter Fifteen

The phone rang, once, twice. "Would you get it?" Mum yells from downstairs. I didn't reply, continued to stare at the ceiling. She sighs and answers, "Hayes' residence." She can't just say hello? She calls up, "Alice, it's for you!"

Groaning quietly, I pulled myself up and trudged to the phone. "Hellooo?"

"Alice?" I was too bored and tired and sick to figure out who this was.

"No. It's her twin sister." Silence on the other end. "Yes it's Alice. Who is this?"

"Oh. It's Grey. Some of us from school are going to the mall. Do you want to come?" No I don't want to come. I don't like shopping. I'm depressed. I don't like people today. Go away. Anyway, who do you know from school? You just moved here. No, I'm not going.

"Yeah I'll go, what time?"

~~~

A few minutes later I hung up the phone, explained to my mother, who was scrubbing the pipes under the bathroom sink. "They're ugly when they're dirty," she explained when I asked. I washed my face in the other bathroom, changed out of my pajamas and slipped into my pocket a small rock, smooth, black.

I answered the doorbell, shoving flip flops onto my feet as I did so. Grey smiled, that childish yet mature grin. I yell bye and head out the door.

Halfway up the driveway, Grey bent down to tie his shoelace, I continued toward a crowded mini van. "Alice?"

I stopped and turned, but kept my mouth shut. He however, did not. "What's up?" I raised an eyebrow, asked him, "Nothing, you?"

"No, I mean, what's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing." I continued to the car, puzzled. How does he know I'm tired, angry, depressed, fed up, hateful and so not in the mood to get out of bed today? He stood up and ran to catch up to me. As we climbed into the car, and he whispered in my ear, "I'm a good listener." I turned away and greeted the mess of teenagers wedged into the van.

Chapter Fourteen

I gently scooped the little frog into my hand, an eyedropper cocked in one hand. Grey held the camera out, zoomed in. He smiled the way that someone smiles when they take a picture, the way he'd smile if the picture was of him. The camera clicked. I pushed the eyedropper into the frog's mouth, hand feeding him as I'd been doing since he'd come home. His cage was small, to restrict movement so that his little leg would heal.



I put the frog back in his cage, and moved towards Grey, leaned over his shoulder. The picture was just one of my hands and the frog, nothing big. He had a red shirt on, a Product Red. I leaned over his shoulder studying the picture, and as I was there, a foot away, his smell drifted toward me. It was sharp yet gentle. It smelled good. I backed away from him, pretended I was finished looking at the photo. Grey was a boy, I was a girl. But to me, that didn't mean a thing.

One Hundred Mark!

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Chapter Twelve

I strolled home, the sun slowly fading behind a horizon of trees. My head shot up, the sound of rackety wheels on concrete shooting through my ears. Pushed by his mother, a small boy rode in a plastic toy car. He beat his fists against the steering wheel. The mother, her brown hair cut short around he shoulders, smiled at me, an understanding smile. I stared at her blankly.



With a dull thud it settled in me, the gravity pushing it down into me, ignoring anything in it's way. The pain, the dead weight of this thing that had been snatched away from me threatened to open up, to leave me sobbing on the street, my eyes red and my face blotchy.



I weaved my hand inside of me, groped the stone, grasped it, and chucked it as far away as I could. This was better. There was no pain, no tears. There wasn't anything.

Chapter Eleven

"Grey Fortin and Alice Hayes," Mrs. Darvis glanced up, then looked back at her paper and called out the next pair. Grey looked over at me, raised an eyebrow. A small smile played at the edge of his lips. I looked away.

At Grey's house the next day, we laid out the rubrics for the projects. Science fair. A month and a half to do it. Three days to determine our subject and have it approved. Grey yanked a few library books out of his backpack. Electricty, 101 Science Projects for Kids, The Sun and You.



"So." He paused. "What are you intrested in?"



"I don't know."



"Cummon."



"Whatever, you can pick. Tell me what to do, I'll do it. I really don't care much."



He leaned forward, "So how about I do all the real work but let you do something small and stupid, so that you still get the grade?" Wow. He sounded sincere. No one ever made that offer.



I accepted his offer happily.



"Well if that's what you want, get over it," he smiled as he talked, joked. I sank back against the wall.



"Whatever."



Mrs. Fortin poked her head into Grey's bedroom. The room was painted a deep green, his brown bunk beds giving a forest look. Selves lined the top of the walls, and various toys and booked collected dust upon them. Mrs. Fortin asked if we would like some snacks, nachos, crisps, anything? We accepted, and five minutes later munched away on a bag of BBQ crisps.

Grey started quizzing me, trying to pull out a subject that I would find interesting. I replied to each one with a careless, 'sure,' 'if you want to,' 'whatever.'

"What about the frog?" He smiled slightly again. "You know, we could study how it heals over the next month."

For the first time that day, I smiled and agreed wholeheartedly.

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Very nice writing, she's just started, so there isn't much, but what there is is very well written.


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Chapter Ten

"Should we go in?" I quizzed.

"She's fine, she likes company, but not when she's working, if she can help it," Grey replied. I glanced again at the examination room door. I stacked my fists on my knee, switched the bottom one to the top. "Did you see the new Bean movie?" Grey asked.

"No, is it good?"

"Haven't seen it, just wondering if you had."

"Oh." Conversation terminated.

He started up again thirty seconds later, "Do you have brothers or sisters?" I ran a hand through my hair and nodded.

"Brother or sister?"

"Um, brother," I bit my lip, uncomfortable. "And you?"

"All alone," Grey smiled. "Do you want to play a game of cards?" He pulled a deck out of his back pocket. I smiled quietly and suggested Slam. We moved onto the floor, poised over the coffe table. Our hands flew, back and forth. Here, there. Card, card. I darted my hand in, whacked it onto the smaller pile. Game over, I grinned.

The door swung open. Dr. Fortin held a cardboard box, air holes punched in the top. "All yours." She handed it to me. "Bring him back in a week for a checkup." I thanked her. "Grey'll be going into ninth grade this year, same as you, right?" I nodded.

"See ya around then," I said bye to Grey and thanked Dr. Fortin. They watched me out to the road, then closed the door. I started the walk home.


Ten minutes later, sitting in my room, I pulled open the cardboard box, decided that I would get a bus down to the pet shop later on. The little green thing had a splint and bandage on it's leg. It looked so pathetic, so vunerable. Just like Jimmy. He could be dying right now. He could be dead. Maybe he too has a broken leg, but no cast. I checked myself. Alice, stop this! You are not to imagine. Don't think about it, Alice.

Chapter Nine

I paused at the gate. Grey's house was small, a cape cod with a white picket fence. Classic. A swinging sign read 'Fortin Animal Clinic.' The front door swung open, revealing a petite woman, her blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun. She wore a white jacket, a vet's jacket. "Oh my!" she exclaimed, quickly scanning me, the frog, and Grey. "Who've you brought home?"

"Alice. She has a wounded frog that needs some help." Grey smiled. The lady stepped confidently toward me and gently took the frog from my hands. "I'm Dr. Fortin. Grey's mother." I wiped the frog juice off on my hand onto my jeans and introduced myself. "Come on in," she invited as she turned toward the door.

I gave up on my doubts and headed inside. Grey followed. I glanced around the room. It was neat, tidy. Beautifully decorated, I felt as if I was in a shore house, vacationing. A stack of magazines rested on a coffe table. Grey inturupted my thoughts, "Doubles as a waiting room on weekdays," I nodded my head knowingly. Dr. Fortin turned to a brown door on the right. A sign reading, 'Patients This Way!' I glimpsed an examining room. She turned around, halfway through the door. "Oh, there's a phone on your left, why don't you give you're mum a call? I don't want her worried."

"Um, sure," I mumbled. I glanced around, spotted the phone.

"Hello? Mum?"

"Alice? Where are you?"

"Urm," I glanced at Grey, "a friend's." Grey raised his eyebrows.

Chapter Eight

He wasn't tall, wasn't short. His blonde hair spiked up, short. I glanced at his hazel brown eyes. Whistling, he came strolling down the street, paused when he saw me standing with a wounded frog in the middle of the road. He raised an eyebrow, not moving. Twenty seconds pass. Nothing happened. This was really annoying me.

"I'm Alice!" I shouted, though there really wasn't much of a distance.

"Grey," he intoduced, coming towards me. I'd shake his hand, but mine is currently occupied.

"Um right," I'm at a lost for words. I mean, he wasn't dashing or anything, but I had no idea what to make small talk about while standing in the middle of the road with a dying frog in my hand. Luckily, he started up again.

"What's with the frog?" he quizzes, and I quickly explain. "Well, it won't do the little thing any good sitting in your hands like that. Follow me, my mum's a vet, she can fix him up quite nicely." I'm wasn't so sure about this, owing to the fact that I've never even seen this guy. I hesitated. Grey recognized the pause, and pipes up, "Hey, you don't even have to come in." I glance at the frog and we head down the street.

Excuse Me! Announcement!!

Hello fellow readers!

I just wanted to apoligize for not posting so much recently, I'm away on vacation in Canada.

Thanks so much to all the people reading, and enjoy!

-Rosie

Chapter Seven

I quietly slipped back out through the gate, my mood low. My feet reached the street, my eyes glanced across, no cars were coming. My brain was somewhere else, far away. Which is why I almost stepped on the frog. It was a small, poor, pathetic creature, no bigger than the palm of my hand. I scanned the road, making sure that no cars were coming. It was clear. A deep gash ran along one of the little frog's leg. I moved a finger toward it, and it scrambled to get away, but failed, favoring it's injured leg. I tutted and cooed. It obviously couldn't stay here, it looked as if it was about to pass out, or drop dead. I wondered if it had lost a lot of blood.

Let me pause here and say that I have a phobia of slimy things. I can't eat oysters, tomatoes, mussels, anything that slithers down one's throat. I rarely swam in the ocean or in ponds, the seaweed and weeds just freaked me out. Picking up a moist, slimey, dying frog was not my cup of tea.

Which was why I was extremely surprised when I found the frog resting in my palm, and discovered that this was of my own doing. Well, I thought, after having gotten over the shock of what I'd done, now what? I glanced around, as if an answer would just pop out of the bushes.

When one did, I wasn't expecting it.

Chapter Six

Dr. Jones excused herself as the policeman left. Me, my parents, and a sidewalk. I watched my mother hold back her emotions. I could see her physically itching to rush forward and give me a mother-daughter hug, soppy, sweet, full of emotion. Keep itching, I thought bitterly, for if she chose to run forward and embrace me I would scream and bring the policeofficer back.

My father had creases of worry etched across his forehead. He must have come all the way from work when he heard that I had gone for walkies. His jet black hair resembled mine, but his is short, ordered, controlled. I stopped examining his hair and questioned, "Um, where's the car?"

The car was silent, dead silent. I felt it pressing in on me, pushing my skull back and forth. No longer able to bear the force of the silence, I sing, "Awkward silence!" and clap my hands to my knees. This promts my mother into action.

"Sweetie, you've got to stop doing this."

"What?"

"Running away."

"I walked Mum. Walked."

"Sorry, you must stop walking away," her voice was sweet, with a kind note in it, gentle. I couldn't stand it.

"Next year I'll be able to drive away. Oh, buy me a horse, then I can ride away."

"Alice." That was my dad, irritated.

"Mm?" I was enjoying this.

"After what happened to..." My mother began again, but I unbuckled my seat belt as she pulled up to the house.

"Later Mum, thanks for the ride," I yelled as I jogged off down the street, "I'll be back by three!" I had no desire to hear what my parents thought about the matter. As I turned the corner, I shut my eyes, my legs pumped hard across the sidewalk. I opened them, not even realizing where my legs had taken me.

I undid the latch and let myself into the pond area. It was alive with quiet murmurings, frogs croaked, birds chirped, a dragonfly buzzed from spot to spot. I tried not to think, tried to ignore the heavy weight on my chest, pushing, eating. I wandered over towards a petite tree, a new spruce. I fingered a branch, a twig really. It was only a few up from the ground. I ran a nail along each tiny knot, each little bump. I shut my eyes, but when I open them, there still isn't anything there. I don't find another piece of fabric, bright red. I don't see a peice of Jimmy's backpack. One little strip, removed, and now this little tree looks like any other one.

Chapter Five

The Center for Youth Support was seven miles from my house. Still fuming, I turned into a small park and sat down on a bench. Thoughts raced through my head, anger, fury. My stupid mother who can't talk to me so she sends me off to some shrink. My father, too busy to even acknowledge that I exist. There was nothing really wrong with Dr. Jones. I apologized to her in my head, angry at my parents, not at her. She'll call my parents, they'll find me, she'll finish her day, go home, hug her husband and make supper for her children.

I sighed and pulled myself up off the parkbench. My face lit up as I spyed a bookshop, a huge building resting in a strip mall. Darting across a busy street, I jogged across the parking lot, through the heavy doors, and into the shop. The clean smell of thousands of new books relaxed me. I'd stick around for awhile, catch a taxi home later.

"Miss, excuse me," I jumped, startled, and stared up at the policeman before me. I closed my book and scrambled up, my back stiff from sitting against the shelf. "Are you Alice Hayes?" He has a hard face, toughened, but soft hazel eyes. I could have lied, but I needed a ride home, and I wasn't sure if six dollars would do it. "Dr. Jones and your parents are in quite a fit looking for you."

"How long have I been?" I asked, groggy, still getting out of book world. He replied with two hours. I was stunned, two hours?

He beckoned to leave, I dropped my book and followed. The policecar is small stuffy. We didn't talk, but I couldn't help but wonder about the people who had also sat in this car handcuffed. It is a very short drive, and as I stepped out of the car, three faces greeted me. Dr. Jones, worried, and tearstreaked, my parents.

Chapter Four

I do not do physiologists. I do not do counseling. I do not do 'family strengthening.' I don't need to talk to some stranger with spectacles and a big nose to make 'my life whole.' No. It's called self help books. Though, I don't do those either.



"I'm Dr. Jones, you can call me Blair," she held out her hand, expected me to shake it, give her my name. I didn't. Withdrawing her hand, she sat down in a poofy armchair, smiled. She wore small, delicate glasses, and her nose is a little button thing placed between two blue eyes. I sat back on the tan couch, staring at Dr. Jones. "We are here to help resolve some problems you might have. I've heard that you aren't doing so well in school. Do you want to tell me about that?"



"No."



"Why not?" She asked as she scribbled a few notes down in her notebook.



I quickly edit the first response that came to mind, one which included a few of the words that got me a detention with Ms. Ven last week. "Because I don't want to," I replied, crossing my arms.



"Okay, is there something else you'd like to talk about?" She leaned forward.



"Did your parents name you after the movie the Blair Witch Project?"



"No, why would you say that?" She took some more notes.



"You remind me of one of the characters,"



"I've never seen it," she smiled sweetly. I clenched my fists quietly. "How do you feel about your brother?"



I held back the flow of emotions that bombarded my brain. "Excuse me Mrs. Jones, but is there a bathroom here?"



"Yes, out the door, it's on your right."



I thanked her, slipped out the heavy door, and turned left.

Chapter Three

"Ms. Hayes!"

I jerked my head up, looked back up at the teacher, formidable, holding a piece of chalk in one hand, a yardstick in the other. Her long red dress swayed slightly as she made her way toward me. "Do you insist on getting detentions?" She glared.


"Yes," I replied, "More study time." I watched the blood rise to her face. She pulled her shoulders up, the way my mother does when she sees a speck of dust land on her precious glass table. I held eye contact, stared her down. Yardstick pointed at the door, Ms. Ven uttered through gritted teeth, "Out. Now. Principal's Office."


"Does this mean I don't need to take that quiz today?" I questioned, a small smile spread across my face.


"NOW!" Picking up my bag, I followed the yardstick out the door. I strolled down the hallway, whistling a tune. The endless lockers followed me to the stairs, where I met the blue metal again at the bottom. All alone, I leaned again the heavy exit doors, out into the sunshine. No reason to stay inside on a day like this.




My parents however, did not agree that I required some fresh air. My dad, home for once, glared at me from the other end of the table. I shoved some peas down my throat, eyes passing from one parent to the other. My mother remained expressionless, her high set eyebrows arched perfectly over light pink eye shadow. She wiped her mouth delicately with her cloth napkin.


"Sweetie," she began as I arched my eyebrows, "we have come to a decision after that little..." she searched for a word. My father found one.


"...stunt you pulled off today."


She thanked him and continued, "The missed homework, detentions for tardiness, disrespect, and all this other nonsense you've been at has led us to a conclusion."


Her pause gives me time to stuff another fork full of beans into my mouth.


"We are taking you to a psychologist."

Chapter Two

"Late. Detention!" My teacher's shrill voice cut through my ears. Inwardly groaning, I slumped into my seat, ignoring the stares of my classmates.

She turned back to the board. "Now," Mrs. Ven began, "the atom drawing is comprised..."

Who cares anyway? I stared at the board, not seeing, not hearing, letting my thoughts drift, drift....

He smiles at me, his seven-year old grin spreading from ear to ear. "Look!" He crys out, pointing to a muddy spot near the pond. A small frog, no larger than the palm of my hand, sits sleepily between the reeds. I smile a small smile, tell Jimmy that the frog is cute. His little finger reaches out to poke it. The deep green frog croaks and jumps away, disturbing the quiet. "Come on Jimmy, we'll be late if we don't get going. Mum'll be mad," I tug at his hand. As we scramble up, he looks back wistfully at the spot where the frog was.
"Alice?"
"Mm?"
"I want to be a frog," he tugs again at my hand. I am a big ten year old, and I know the facts, yet I don't spoil his fun.
"Why don't we try?" The trip to the schoolbus goes quickly as we hop down the streets, away from the pond. Our throats are sore from croaking by the time we reach the bus.

~

Running, I hurry him into his classroom, hugging him quickly before dashing to my own room.

That was the last time I saw Jimmy. I didn't even say bye. Just a hug, quick, only out of habit. I didn't tell him to have a good day at school. I was so rushed, I didn't even mention that we were going to be picked up that day, Jimmy, meet me in the gym, not the bus circle. I didn't mention that. Just a hug. Just a hug.

Chapter One

I stepped off of the school bus, hitching my faded blue backpack up higher up on my back. I paused, looked around. It's sunny, too sunny. It's always to sunny. I squinted, the bright light hitting my eyes.

"Yo!" The kid behind me jabbed at my neck, "Move!"

I turned and glowered. Taking my time, I strolled away from the bus doors. I didn't bother to admire the scenery around me, mostly because there isn't any. House, house, tree. House, house, tree. Tree, tree, pond. House. Once upon a time I would have searched behind every tree on my way home, examined every piece of trash, each footprint in the snow. But I'm done with that. He's not here. Get over it Alice.

Soon enough, I'd reached my house. It looked exactly like every other house, except tidier. Small stepping stones led up to the red door, perfectly trimmed hydrangeas lined the brick house. A white picket fence held in a precisely mowed lawn. Honest, when my mother has the garden done, she gets down on her hands and knees to make sure that the grass is all the exact same length.

I swung open the front door. The doorknob banged against the pale orange wallpaper. It left a small black smear. Oops. I heard my mother's footsteps. She appeared quite suddenly from the kitchen. Her back stiffened as she viewed the mark I'd left on her beautiful living room wall. "Hey," I muttered as my bag landed with a flump on the carpet.
"Please remove that bag from the floor Alice. You are not four years old." I rolled my eyes, slinging the bag onto one shoulder.
"Nice to see you too," I grumbled under my breath, heading to my room.

Prologue

Five years ago, my brother stepped off the school bus and never reached home. End of story.

Well, it's not exactly the end of story. I could tell you how my mother grew tense shoulders and became a clean freak. If I felt like it, which I don't, I'd explain about my father, who got a promotion five years back and works overtime every single stupid day. I have no desire to report on the citezens in our town who bonded together and set out to look for my brother.

And I really am not going to tell you about me. Get over it.