Forever Friends

Monday was a blur.

Tuesday was a blur.

Wednesday, I rode a greyhound bus to Illinois for the Big Ten Championships for tennis.  I stared out the window watching the flat, not-yet-sprouting corn fields of Iowa flying by, lost in my thoughts, unsure of how to manage my emotions.  I had offered to not go to Illinois to be at home with my family but my dad had told me over the phone he didn't want me to stop living, because he sure hadn't. 

I hadn't cried since leaving my parent's house.  I was numb.  Sarah, Elena, and Maddie had all questioned me multiple times if I was alright, but I brushed them off, telling them I was fine.  I avoided them for the most part, because I wasn't ready to talk.  I was in bed by 9 p.m. (though not sleeping until much later), attended all my classes, and consumed my thoughts and time with studying, writing papers, and tennis practice.  Luke had also called and texted me multiple times, but I had giving him the exact amount of time and attention that I had my friends.  It's not that I wanted to avoid them, or pretend like everything was okay, but I wasn't okay, and I wasn't ready for the sympathetic questions and questioning glances, eyes shifting away when I look at them.  I had a friend from high school whose mother had passed away, and that's what she had told me it was like.  She had appreciated my ability to speak to her like a normal human being, not focusing on her pain or sadness.

But speaking of Luke, it had reminded me that I had a missed call from Detective Stratton's cell phone, and he had left me a voicemail Sunday evening, when I was at my parent's house.  I still hadn't checked it.  All else had faded away, except for thoughts of my family when I allowed myself to think.  I also was avoiding the stress of whatever Detective Stratton may have to say, because I didn't know how much more I could handle.  Or how much I wanted to even know at the moment.  I think I had subconsciously decided to wait until tennis was over, so it was one less thing on my plate.

I decided to listen to the message.  I didn't have anything else to do except watch bare cornfields and think.  Detective Stratton had stated that Monday wouldn't have worked for him, but Tuesday would have.  Clearly I missed that.  I didn't want to have a conversation with Detective Stratton where the rest of the team could hear me, so I shot him a text, hoping that wasn't too weird.

Hey Brad.  Sorry about not calling you back.  Had some things going on.  On my way to IL now.  Not sure when I'll be back.  Can we meet up next week sometime?

I hit send, satisfied that I had at least reached out to him.  I took a deep breath, pushing my shoulders back and down, aware of how tense I was, and holding all the stress in my shoulders and neck.  I reached up to the right back and side of my neck to start rubbing at the knot I could feel forming.  I closed my eyes to fully focus my eyes on the knot when I felt the seat bounce next to me.

I looked over to see Cara, my doubles partner, had plopped down.  She stared me right in the eyes.  "What's wrong."  She didn't ask, she demanded.

"Nothing." I closed my eyes to go back to focusing on the knot, willing Cara to leave.

Silence.  I counted to 30, waiting for her to say something.  When she didn't, I figured she had slipped away.  I sighed and opened my eyes to see Cara still sitting there staring right at me.  I jumped.

"Okay, creeper."  I tried to make it sound like I was joking, but my voice was flat.  Emotionless.

"Aleah, come on," she said softly.  "You can sit there and pretend like nothing is wrong to everyone else.  You can lie to your boyfriend, your best friend, your roommates, whoever.  But not to me.  I'm your DP.  We've experienced good and bad together for 2 years.  We traveled together, laughed, cried, fought, and carried each other.  We need to be in sync on the court and off.  If you shut me out, we can't."

I looked at her blankly.  I knew she was right.  Although Sarah was my bestest of best friends, Cara and I had a bond that I didn't have with anyone else because of being in that athletic partnership so intensely.  After our first school year playing together, we took that summer and traveled around the United States almost every weekend playing in tournaments, to become better tennis players, and better partners.  Living in hotels together every weekend for a couple of months made us dear friends, too. 

My face fell, and a tear slipped out, and I felt it trail slowly down my face, over my cheek bone, down the corner of my lip, to my chin.  I felt it coming on.  The ugly cry.  My face scrunched up and Cara quickly wrapped me in her arms and I silent-sobbed on her shoulder.  Snot and all.  But I kept it as quiet as possible, to not draw attention to myself.  I stayed like that for awhile.  I don't know how long.  When I finally sniffled and sat up, I saw out the window across the aisle that there were still flat cornfields and windmills.  Iowa.

Cara didn't ask me again what was wrong.  I hunched down in the seat, propping my knees up against the seat in front of me, leaning my head on her shoulder.  We started watching Orange is the New Black on my tablet, and stayed like that for several episodes.  The battery flashed 15%, and I shut it off.

I turned to Cara and spilled everything.  I backed all the way up to Zach and my trip to New York.  I gushed about how much I loved and missed him.  I told her how my heart felt like a piece of it was missing.  I expressed how much fun I had had with Luke, and how good he was treating me, but how several bizarre things happened.  I told her about finding the pills and taking them to Detective Stratton.  I admitted to feeling deceived.  I told Cara all about how I didn't know what route to take.  That I feared they wouldn't have evidence I was drugged, even if the pills did prove to be something illegal.  I expressed wanting to please everyone and not get anyone in trouble.  I told her about my dad.  The overwhelming thoughts and "what if's" that could happen.  I told her I felt weak and helpless, and unclear about how to handle each of these situations.

She sat there, not saying a word, listening to everything I had to say.  I didn't cry.  I told her everything matter-of-factly, but with more emotion than I had expressed since Sunday.

And when I was done, I felt empty.  Not in a drained, numb way, but rather, in a "I was on the brink of combustion" way.  I felt relieved.  I laughed.  And laughed for awhile.  At first Cara smiled at me politely, probably confused at my bizarre turn of emotions, but then laughed as well.  My laugh sparked hers.  And her laughing was like adding gasoline to my already out of control laughing fire.

Finally my laughing subsided to giggles, and I took a couple deep breaths, attempting to calm myself.  Cara pulled me into a side hug.  At that moment, the bus was coming to a stop at Wendy's.  Dinner time.  And we were in Illinois.  I turned to Cara before we exited the bus.  "Thank you."

She smiled knowingly.  "You're welcome."

The rest of the trip went smoothly.  Well, except the team lost in the first round, so we headed back to Nebraska on Friday.  I had texted back and forth briefly with Detective Stratton, and we had decided to meet a week from the Friday I came back, because it was the last week of classes, and I could focus on finishing up final papers and such.

Seeing as how the next week was the last week of classes, Luke, my roommates, and everyone else I knew, was busy writing papers, attending class, buckling down for final exams the week after.  Of course in the class that Luke and I shared, he sat next to me, trying to playfully flirt with me.  I managed to act normal enough to keep him at bay, but I knew I would need to address everything soon enough.  We really hadn't spent any time together, either, so I knew that eventually he would ask me to hang out, and I would probably have to address a lot of my issues then.

The night before I was to meet with Detective Stratton, I was in the apartment writing a paper when Sarah, Maddie, and Elena marched in to the apartment, single file.  It was 9:45 p.m.  I was sitting on the couch with my legs folded under me, my laptop appropriately on my lap.  I looked up as they formed a half circle in front of me, looking down at me.  Sarah was in the middle.

She uttered two words.  "Friend intervention."

I groaned and closed my laptop as Maddie pulled out a 12 pack of Coca Cola, and Elena offered out chips and salsa.  Sarah had a pack of Phase 10 cards.  Elena asked, "Break?"

I couldn't hold back my grin.  "I was just proofreading for the second time, anyway."

I felt like I hadn't seen my dear friends in weeks.  I was reminded then, that Elena wouldn't be living with us the next school year.  I pushed that thought out of my mind, to enjoy the current moment;  I couldn't handle anymore sadness.  We sat around eating, drinking (Coke), and playing cards, sharing stories and memories, and just enjoying each others company in a way we hadn't in awhile. 

Somewhere around 3:00 a.m. I opened up and told them about my dad.  They immediately surrounded me in a 4-way hug and we tumbled over on the floor.  I knew at that moment I should have told them the night I found out.  They could be there in a way that no one else could.  We all laid on our backs on the floor with our heads touching, and took pictures, making funny faces.  Making memories with my forever friends.  They offered no advice.  They didn't ask questions.  I'm sure in time they would, but they knew that more than anything, I needed my friends to be just that:  friends.