Today

Chapter XII

"I should probably go."

I turn to Andy when she speaks, the swing still creaking beneath me. "It is getting pretty late."

She nods, standing up. I do the same, and my legs feel funny beneath me from sitting down for so long. We walk together towards the front door of the house, trying not to trip in the darkness. By now, a few people are standing around around in the yard; talking, making out, smoking. Typical party activities.

Andy stops, turning back to me. "Did you come with Michael?"

I smile. "How did you know?"

"You don't really seem like the kind of guy to show up to a party by himself," Andy replies.

I nod, laughing. "Well, I should probably go find him in there." I gesture towards the front door.

"I'll come with you," Andy says.

I nod, heading towards the house with her close behind. I push open the door and find the party almost exactly how I left it. People are still dancing, drinking, talking, kissing. The music still thumps, shaking the floor with a low, thumping bass beat. It moves up my body, blending with my heartbeat.

I take a few steps forward, looking around, hoping that Michael will be within sight of the front door so that I don't have to venture any deeper into this black hole of a party. I search the crowd for him and sigh when I come up empty. I suddenly realize that he could be anywhere in the this house, and it seems to grow huger by the second.

Andy and I search for him for several minutes, checking every room and asking people if they've seen him, but the people who answer us haven't, and everybody else seems to be either too drunk or too busy to help us. We make our way back out the door, sitting down on the front steps.

"I guess I'll just wait her for him to leave. You don't have to wait with me if you have to get home," I rest my elbows on my knees, and prop my chin up on my hands. "I have no idea how long it's going to take Michael to show up, or if he even will."

"That's okay," Andy shrugs. "I'm not in a rush. I'll stay."

"Thanks," I smile. She has no idea how glad I am that I don't have to wait alone.

Fifteen minutes of silence later, someone nearly walks into me from behind. I stand up, and see that it is Michael. I sigh with relief, despite knowing that this dilemma is far from over.

"Someone said you were looking for me," Michael slurs.

"Michael," I say, as he stumbles down the front steps.

"Yes?" He smiles innocently at me.

"How much did you have to drink?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, slurring slightly. "Who keeps track of that stuff?"

"Did you forget that I can't drive?" I cross my arms, my annoyance building by the second.

"I'm fiiine," he insists, holding onto me for support. "You're barely blurry at all."

"I can drive you guys home," Andy offers.

"Would you?" I ask, ignoring Michael.

"Of course," she nods, smiling.

"Thank you so much," I breath.

"No problem," she turns, and I grab Michael's arm, forcing him to follow us to her car.

Like Michael and I, she parked a block away from the house because of the sheer volume of cars parked on the street of the party house. We walk in silence, the breeze chilling my skin and causing Andy's hair to flutter. When we are about halfway there, something catches my attention, and I stop walking.

It's a sleek black car parked across the street, its windows tinted so dark that they're impossible to see through. Something tugs at my memory, but I just can't place it.

"What's wrong?" Andy asks, noticing me stop. She follows my gaze, her brow furrowing.

"Nothing," I shake my head.

It must be nothing.

°°°

Andy's car is a cherry red Volkswagen.

As Andy drives, the car is silent. Michael has fallen asleep in the back seat, his head resting on the empty seat next to him, his arm bent at an awkward angle.

"This may sound really creepy," I say suddenly. "But I like watching people sleep. They look so peaceful, like nothing is bothering them."

Andy glances over at me before returning her eyes to the road. "You're right, that does sound kind of creepy. But I agree with you. I do that too."

There is another brief moment of silence before Andy turns to me again. "Do you...dream?"

"Yeah," I reply. "But I only remember the dreams that I have after 3:24. And even then, I usually don't write them down."

"Oh," she nods.

"Why?"

"I was just wondering," she replies. "It would be sad if you couldn't dream. Dreams are the best part about sleeping."

I laugh a little. "They're not that great."

She looks a little sad. "I used to love dreaming so much. I would be so excited to go to sleep because dreaming would give me a break from reality.

I realize that, the whole time we were talking back at the party, she had hardly talked at all about her past. I wonder what it was like, but I don't know how to ask, and I don't want to pry.

I still wonder about her past to myself, though, as I watch the dark city pass by my window.

Andy is a mystery, and I'm going to try to solve her.

°°°

Saturday April 19th

What is her favourite colour? Does she like ice cream? Does she like to read? What is her real hair colour? Does she like school? Does she play an instrument? What are her parents like? Does she have any siblings? What's her favourite band? What genre of music does she like most? Does she like photography? What is her favourite thing to do? Does she have a boyfriend that she left behind in New York? Is she a good liar?

Does she ever wonder about me like I wonder about her?