Wait For You

Losing You

She’s not going to call you, his voice whispered.

     No matter how much I tried to avoid his looming words, I knew he was right. I wouldn’t hear my best friend Amelia’s light, airy voice telling me that she’d made it home safely. I wouldn’t get to hear her telling me all about her date with Jason McCormick during homeroom tomorrow morning. My best friend was going to die, and all I could do was wait.

     Sitting cross-legged in the center of my bedroom floor, I concentrated on the picture of her smiling face laying right in front of me. It was a picture of both of us, actually. It was taken during our freshman year of high school—back in our awkward, just-coming-out-of-middle-school phase. Back then she didn’t know what styling gel was, and allowed her long, springy curls to remain frizzy and free. She had an awful obsession with hot pink and insisted on wearing it as much as possible; it was a terrible combination with her hair, but she never believed me when I told her. Wearing a pink t-shirt and matching headband, Amelia looked like a strawberry. Plain and simple. During that particular era, I wasn’t so hot myself. With awful blonde highlights that contrasted terribly with my dark hair, I thought I was the hot stuff. Not to mention my braces and glasses—what a hot combination, let me tell you.

    As I picked up the picture, I closed my eyes and focused on Amelia. Let me in, let me in…

    Just like all of the other times, Amelia’s mind allowed me in. I usually asked for permission before invading her mind, but this was a different story. I could feel that something was wrong long before I began hearing the voices, the warnings. As I opened my eyes, I found that I was no longer sitting in my bedroom, but behind the wheel of Amelia’s old Volvo. While I couldn’t control her—I probably could, but never found a reason to try—I could experience whatever she felt.

    I can’t believe Jason didn’t show, she thought. Tears were swelling in her eyes as she sniffled loudly. Oh how I wished I could comfort her. Amelia was notorious for choosing awful dates; Jason was supposed to be different. He was more of the nerdy type, choosing to spend his time playing chess and studying, rather than out playing sports. He was a kindhearted guy, or so I thought.

    The snow sure is picking up. Sure enough, it was. It was early November and our town was getting hit snowstorm after snowstorm. It was not appropriate driving weather, for even the most experienced drivers, let alone Amelia. Maybe that was why Jason didn’t show up, he wasn’t comfortable leaving his house. Maybe he—

    Pay attention, Bae. Remember why you’re there, his voice instructed.

     She was driving down the interstate, far from her house. I watch as her hand reached across into the passenger seat, searching for her cell phone.

    Don't pick it up, I plead. She couldn’t hear me; she was too absorbed in her thoughts about her dateless night. Had it been any other time, she would have heard my voice. She always heard my voice, just like I always heard his. Her thick lashes begin to stick together; the many layers of mascara were running down her face, forming thick black streaks along her cheeks. She ran her hand across the seat once more, glancing away from the road every few seconds.

   “Where is it?” She whined, ducking her head to peek into the floorboard.

    Pay attention to the road! I shout at her. She tuned my screams out. Look out!

    She didn’t see the black ice. She didn’t even realize that another car is running the stoplight, coming straight for her car. Tears blurred her eyes as she accelerated the car; she pushed forward, speeding on as her tires hit the ice.