Still Falling

11 | confess

Amanda

*

My fingers drummed on the steering wheel while I watched the entrance from behind the windshield. The school had a large parking lot, half of which was infact empty, so it wouldn't be very hard for someone to spot me here. I didn't worry about staff or parents, they could think I was just another parent myself, but I worried she would recognize me in a heartbeat if she spotted me.

With that concern in mind, I pulled open the glove compartment and riffled through until I found what it was I was looking for: a crusty pair of sunglasses I hated and hardly ever wore around. Today though, it would be the star performer of the show and I slipped it on. I undid the zip of my bookbag on the passenger seat, got out a head tie and sleeked my hair into a ponytail. And then I sunk into my seat, wondering when the hell the school was going to let out.

I'd come here straight from lectures after they ended an hour ago, and have been listening to myself breathe in the confines of my air conditioned car since. My eyes went to the clock on the dash and slid back to the front doors. Any second now. I laid my head against the steering wheel and sighed. What am I doing? This is just plain weird. Weirder than all the other things I've ever done.

I turned on the radio and turned down the volume until the talkshow host was reduced to inaudible muffles. A little noise to fill the void.

I was unsure how long I stayed in that position, but when I lifted my head up the front yard was crowded with students in maroon and grey colored uniforms. Some of them got into sleek cars that drove off, while others waited around. It looked like a pretty posh private school. That explained why the security at the gate were extra scrutinizing of me. At least my car did the fitting in for my sake.

I kept my eyes at the entrance, at the faces in non uniformed clothes that went in and out, hoping I hadn't already missed her. And so I waited, alert, as the number of students and staff dwindled, for her familiar face.

And then I saw her, coming out the doors with an older man by her side. They were talking, and she had her back to me. She remained that way until they parted ways and she began a walk in my direction. I stared at her unabashedly, stuck in place at the sight of her golden brown hair and delicate features. I kept staring, until I realized she was getting closer and closer to my car and hers might just be the one closest to mine. I whipped my head away so fast I got whiplash, but focused on finding some nonexistent item in my bag for as long as it would take.

I pushed the radio off so I was better attuned to my surroundings, and felt a car roar to life. I allowed myself a moment to peep and saw her car drive out of the parking spot. As her vehicle got closer to the exit gates, I reversed my vehicle and- as crazy as it was- tailed her.

I didn't remember the way to her house anymore. It had been years, and New York was a freaky labyrinth of streets and apartments that tended to test your memory. The information I needed was all in her Facebook bio, and thank God she was one of those who still used that app or finding her would have been a lot trickier.

With a great deal of effort, I followed Tilly Emerson as she took turns and made stops in traffic. Her grey Toyota came to a stop at a fastfood joint, and I slid my car into a parking spot with a direct view of the entrance. She got out and went in. I took off my sunglasses and watched her join a table with a woman who got up and embraced her. They both got seated and I brought my head down on my steering wheel again.

What am I doing?

I harboured suspicions about her since I met Finn, especially as he didn't mention her to me. Our meeting at the wedding had been so overwhelming and blindsiding that it left little room for me to remember the letter that I'd left for him. His reaction to it- or rather, lack of, made me think he hadn't read it.