Gone (Ianthony)

Two Months, Two Weeks, Six Days, and Fourteen Hours Before

Anthony:    

"I at least deserve to know why I'm helping you break into your old high school."

I glanced over at my friend Ross. I could barely make out his face in the darkness.

"I already told you. I have to get something out of my cousin's locker for her before she leaves really early tomorrow morning."

He continued staring straight ahead, driving slowly down the road. Very few other cars were out here, but it made sense; who in their right mind drives down a street only leading to a high school at four a.m. on a Sunday morning?

Me, that's who. For Ian.

"Yeah, whatever, man. It just sounds kinda jive, y'know?"

"Jive?"

I laughed, trying to cover my nervousy. Because really, I was terrified. I hadn't done anything this rebelious since high school, and that hardly compared. It was kind of sad; breaking into my old high school to search for any trace of my best friend at four o'clock on a Sunday morning was the most rebelious thing I had ever done.

"Yeah, man, jive, y'know? Like... like, jive."

"Yeah. Jive."

I sat in the passengar's seat in silence as he pulled into the parking lot. It was completely empty, of course, but I was still scared. 

Ross parked and looked over at me, raising his eyebrows.

"Dude, you're sweating."

I instantly felt my forehead, flattening my hair farther over it.

"Shut up."

"Dude, don't be nervous. Seriously. This school is poor as shit. I doubt there's a single camera in there that runs this late. I'll unlock the door, you'll run in there, get whatever, and then we leave. That's it."

"Yeah. Okay."

I took a deep breath and we got out of the car. I took extra measure to close my door quietly.

Ross approached the back door of the school with me a step behind, the little metal key in his hand. I never thought having a locksmith friend would come in handy.

"Yo, be careful, man. If anyone finds out about this, I'm so fired."

"Yeah, I will."

He unlocked the door and opened it. No alarms or sirens went off. Good start.

"I'll be waiting. Be fast."

He walked back to the car, leaving me to do this on my own.

I wish I had a ski mask or something. That'd be badass.

I walked into the building. It was dark. I never thought I'd be forced to break into the school I hated most in the world but also was so thankful for; hated because everyone hated me, loved because it was where I met the most important person in my life.

I used the flashlight on my phone to navigate through the halls. It was quite boring, actually. I was hoping to have that total badass moment I'd always dreamed about as a kid - dodging janitors, sprinting down stairs, maybe shooting a guy or two for dramatic effect. But it was really only me walking alone in an empty hallway.

The hallways were pretty damn creepy, though. But, with just the small light from my phone, I still knew my way to Ian's old locker by heart. To the main staircase, up the stairs, around the corner, and the first one by the bathroom on the left.

I shined my light all around it. It looked normal as ever.

I turned the dial on the front with a shaky hand. 

34-17-11.    

It opened.

It kinda surprised me that they didn't change the combinations on these lockers after each year. It also surprised me that they had no way of knowing when twenty-six-year old men searching for their missing best friend break in to look for a clue in his old locker. I never realized how poor this school really was.

I shined my light up and down, left and right. 

You can really tell a lot about a person from the contents of their locker. In high school, Ian and I were the same; all our books and folders thrown carelessly on the top shelf, and a pile of gum wrappers and soda bottles on the bottom. 

Whoever owned this locker now was exactly the same.

What was I supposed to look for now? What clue could Ian possibly leave for me in his old high school locker?

Another slip of paper, maybe? No, that'd be dumb. This kid now could throw it away at any time.

A picture? No. The kid could easily throw that away too.

What then?

I shifted the books around; precalculus textbooks and The Great Gatsby and at least a dozen broken pencils. Could that mean anything? Nothing stuck out.

I even sifted through the trash pile a bit. Airhead wrappers and Pepsi bottles and an empty box of cigarettes. Nothing of any sagnificance to Ian.

That was it.

Absolutely nothing.

Where did I go wrong?