Lost

1

"No." I bark into my phone, my camera dangling from my neck as I glare at the ground.  "I'm not interested."

"Julia.." my dad's voice is stern, like I'm a little girl again and he's trying to right my wrongs.

Not that he was there for that.

"I'm not coming." I repeat a little more firmly.

I haven't been home since I left nor have I met my parents at any of their various locations. It's a trend that seems to run in the family.

"Your mom and I thought it might help..." He starts but I'm not about to dive into this topic.

Not this one.

Any one but this one.

"I have to go." I cut him off and hang up, pocketing my phone.

The park is busy, kids playing in the warm summer air, parents parked underneath the trees, shading themselves from the sun. A constant flow of joggers and bikers, their breathing loud, footsteps heavy, the whine of their tires as they glide past. Laughter bubbles up around me as people soak in the vitamin D and the fresh air and all that summer used to be for me.

Lounging out around the pool, the sun shining through the glass windows, throwing parties on the weekends with my friends. Hopping on planes to meet my parents at their latest vacation spot while my dad worked remotely at his whim.

Life was beautiful and bright and everything was fine.

There's a guy walking past, a dog at his side, some short, fat, long thing that hobbles about, tongue out and panting like it was sprinting rather than walking. But the dog isn't what catches my attention. It's the man. With his blond hair combed perfectly and the trendy clothes and the easy way he carries himself.

I bring my camera up, zooming in on the man's face. It's not him. It'll never be him.

But I snap the man's picture anyway.

                               ————————

Senara and Amy meet at a coffee shop near my apartment. They both love to talk, fighting for the microphone as if they were some sort of celebrity. I just lean back in the yellow chair I'm parked on and sip my coffee, letting them have at it.

"So what're you doing for the weekend?" Senara finally asks me.

I peer at my two friends from over the brim of my cup, Senara's round face perfectly done up like always with ruby red lips. Amy goes for a more neutral approach but I've seen the girl without makeup and let me tell you, she might as well be another person. Not that Amy isn't beautiful, with or without makeup, but she's a pro at contouring and she contours her face straight into a different shape.

And then there's me.

Maybe some mascara if I'm feeling ambitious. I'm lucky enough to have my clothes washed and wrinkle free these days. My parents did me a huge injustice having maids. Laundry sucks. So I only do it when I'm forced to.

I'm the hobo of the group.

Senara and Amy don't even know I'm loaded, thanks dad for the money. Sarcasm.

"The usual." I say, my eyes flicking to the tv.

It's a previously aired Bulls game and I instantly look away.

"You're so boring." Senara whines. "There is more to life than work ya know?"

I do know. There's also pain. And grief. And guilt.

"I mean, poor Charley." Amy says. "You're so boring."

Tossing a flat look at Amy, I can't help but catch a glimpse of number 12, the white lettering bright against the red fabric of the jersey as he darts between players with super sonic speed. And I know if I were to continue watching at some point they'd show the dog with the split face, one blue eye and one brown eye. But I don't continue watching because just seeing his jersey is enough to make a pit open up in my stomach.

Sometimes I wonder how he's doing. I've even gone so far as to bike by his place in Lincoln Park. But I don't know what I'd say.

"I'm not boring." I defend. "I just don't see the point in staying up all night, getting drunk just to feel like shit the next day."

I do see the point. It's fun for the time being. While the alcohol is still coursing through your veins, lowering your inhibitions, clouding your judgements, hiding your pain.

But at some point, my thoughts drift and suddenly the good time I've been having plummets and my chest rips open and my heart bleeds all over showing just how broken and lost I really am.

It's easy, to walk around as though you're fine. I finally get that now. People don't actually want to hear the truth when they ask you how you are. They want clean and tidy, minimal fuss, everything's great, nothing could ever be wrong.

Except everything is.

Everything has been wrong.

For four years.

Ever since that day.

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What are we all thinking? How we feeling about hearing from Julia? She was a pretty backseat character through this whole series and she didn't really step up for our boy Drew when he needed her.

How's everyone surviving quarantine? Gone insane yet? I have 🙋‍♀️.

But no seriously guys. My hair is getting long, which isn't that long like maybe almost to my shoulders but if I don't get my god damn hair cut soon I'm just gonna shave my mother fucking head! It's already half shaved anyway, what's the other half? Ya know?

I'm about to pull a fucking Britney here folks.

For real, this is about to be me.