December Boys (BxB) | ✓

Chapter 19 - Letters to the Ones I Hurt

Eight days into October and Lily's Instagram was still barren. Her posts had stopped the day before our disastrous evening, and no new posts appeared since. Her nearly 3-week absence caused a stir in the comment sections, which ironically seemed to make her even more popular than she was before disappearing. Dozens of her fans were posting their suspicions. The theories ranged from highly implausible to straight up crazy. Some thought she was dead, others were convinced she'd eloped with a multi-millionaire. All of them agreed on one thing: Lily's disappearance was a mystery.

The reason I knew about these theories was because I snooped on her account just as often as her fans did. I'd allowed the app to notify me whenever she posted anything - so I knew she was still gone - but I couldn't help but check her page anyway. The last picture she'd posted depicted a tray of delicious looking muffins. My heart did a sick lurch every time I looked at it.

I knew Lily wasn't dead, and she certainly hadn't left the country. In fact, I'd seen her several times since the Incident back in September. She showed up at school and did well on her dance rehearsals. She was also shopping like normal, spending several afternoons at the stores on main street. This I knew because Seth kept me posted.

"You really need to talk to her," he mumbled, in the midst of devouring a crepe. "I don't know what you did, but avoiding it forever is not a solution."

I gave him a grunt in reply. I was scrolling through the comments on Lily's muffin picture. A few girls seemed to think she had found a new boyfriend. Huh.

"If you want to know how she is, all you have to do is ask."

"I know how she is."

"Then why pine over her social media?"

"I'm not pining," I huffed. I let the screen fade to black on the bed in front of me.

"Whatever, man." Seth hummed and flipped the page of his magazine.

We were lying around in my room, spread out haphazardly like we owned the place and the world was ours for the taking. My bed was a mess, littered with magazines, DVDs, and various food items. An empty pizza box was in the process of sliding off my comforter. I'd turned the radiator on, which bathed the room in a comfortable haze of warmth. I never wanted to wait for the bus in 6-degree temperatures again.

Avoiding the Lily issue was not a solution, as Seth had stated so aptly, but confronting her wasn't as straight-forward as you'd think. Ever since Fort Violet, I'd spent my evenings writing letters to her, trying to get down on paper what was on my mind. Explaining exactly what had run through my head as I bolted off on her proved difficult, especially since I was hard-pressed to even explain it to myself. All I knew was that we wanted different things and that I'd hurt her. I'd hurt her a lot.

"I don't know what to say to her," I muttered to my bedroom wall.

"The truth is a start," Seth answered.

I rolled onto my side, facing him fully now. He had shaved his head and was sporting a buzz cut. Apparently, it made him more susceptible to spiritual energy, or so he said. A black, cotton t-shirt hung off his limbs, and his jeans were ripped across his knees.

"What if I'm not sure about the truth?"

Seth was side-eying me over his magazine. The headline read: "Haunted Celebrity Houses - You Won't Believe What We Found in Oprah's Cellar!"

"You did what you did for a reason, right?" He smiled, a careful tilt of the mouth. "The longer you wait, the worse it'll be. Like I said, I don't know what you did, but an apology can't go wrong."

"Yeah," I said, sighing. "I guess you're right."

Seth closed the magazine and flung it to the ground. It landed in the general vicinity of his backpack, a reminder that he should bring it with him when he left.