When Lana Walden had first heard that her best friend-her only friend-had been declared missing, her first reaction, of course, was that she hadn't heard correctly. The teacher was talking about a different Cassidy Myers, not the one she had known since the beginning of middle school. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation for why she hadn't shown up today. "From the evidence the police have gathered, she probably ran away willingly, rather than being kidnapped," Mrs. Beaumont said. "She was last seen coming home yesterday."
"No. No! You mean..." Lana tried to say as her teacher came up to her desk.
"Yes, I'm afraid so," Mrs. Beaumont said sorrowfully. "I'm really, really sorry. I could tell how close you and Cassidy were."
"But why? Why would she just run away like this?"
"No one's really sure, Lana. But you know that she was always sort of...well, unstable."
"Were?! Was?!" Lana spat out. "You're saying it like she's dead! And like she could HELP being 'unstable!'"
Normally her teacher would have set her straight and made her stay after school, like she usually did when her students raised their voice or spoke aggressively, but today she was more understanding, aside from the fact that it was the last day of school before summer break. She sighed a sad, empty sigh. "I'm sorry, Lana. I really am. But who knows? Maybe the police will find her alive and healthy."
"M-Mrs. Beaumont...I have to call my mom. I just...don't think I can make it today." She didn't think anybody could calmly do class work while their only friend could possibly be taking their last breath.
"I understand," Mrs. Beaumont nodded, but then paused. "But what about your sister? Isn't she in school today too?"
"I think I'll ask anyway..."
Lana ran through the hallway and into the girls' bathroom, dialing the house number with shaky fingers.
"Hello?" came Mrs. Walden's pleasant voice. For the first time in years, she wanted to do nothing but curl up in her mother's arms and cry. "Mom? I...just can't today."
"You can't do what? Shouldn't you be in homeroom about now?"
"Yes!" she said impatiently and a little too loudly. Lana sighed and lowered her voice. "I mean, I don't think I can make it through school today. I know April's got her classes and everything, but I really just want to go home."
"Why?" her mom pressed. "Your grades are getting bad enough!" That voice was rapidly careening from pleasant to nails on a chalkboard. "And besides, your grandma isn't expecting to have to pick you up until 3. Why can't you just make it one more day? I don't think I should make Grandma waste all that gas in her car to pick you up and then have to go back for your sister a few hours later. "
"Look, I just don't feel well today, that's all."
"Oh...do you have a fever or nausea or something?" her mom asked, finally showing a little concern.
"No..."
"Then what's wrong? Why are you calling me?"
"Nothing is wrong!" Lana snapped. What a big fat lie. Why had she said that when she felt like she was being suffocated inside? Should she tell her mother about the friend she had kept secret for years? The one she was sure her parents would have told her to just stay away from?
"Then get back to class! I'm so tired of all this!"
Lana screamed into her cell phone before slamming a fingernail on the "END" button. That button seemed to describe what her world had turned into today with that one word.
"Tired?! Tired from what?" Lana sneered under her breath, some of her spit dotting the door of the stall she was in. Then she remembered how her mom had broken her arm two weeks ago and, instead of properly recuperating, was trying to watch over her and her younger sister while their dad was working. Lana and 9-year-old April could be a handful sometimes when they were around each other, but still, Mrs. Walden had had plenty of hours to herself while they were in school.
She thought about leaving the school anyway-as long as she had the teacher's permission, she probably wasn't breaking the law. She would just wander around town and chill until 3:00, like she did once when she was eight-before her mom found out from the teacher and threatened to send her to juvenile for truancy. Lana remembered how she'd cried and trembled, afraid her own mother really would let her be locked up from how mad she'd been.
She finally just decided to stay; at this point she could care less how upset her either of her parents got if she didn't, but this grief hurt just as much as, if not more than, any broken bone; she needed a distraction, even if it was studying. Besides, if she lost track of time and didn't show up at the usual place where her parents would come to pick her up, they might think the same thing had happened to her that had happened to Cassidy; the last thing she needed was more 2-hour speeches on how she should always let them know where she was going.
She smiled joylessly as her phone buzzed. Her mom was trying to call her back. Lana shook her head and switched her phone off, then proceeded to jerk the stall door and then the bathroom door open.
Her teacher met her in hallway. "So is your mom coming to get you?"
"Hardly," Lana answered, surprised no tears had come yet. They probably would once her mind had fully accepted the news.
"Oh..." Thankfully, Mrs. Beaumont didn't ask any further questions.
"If she really cared, she would take her broken arm and drive to school and get me," Lana said, mainly to herself.
Her teacher suddenly stopped, taking Lana's hand gently but firmly. "Look at me. You know that's an awful, awful thing to say. There's counselors who can help you through this, if Cassidy really is..." She decided not to attempt to finish that sentence. "What I mean is, you won't improve your own pain by making others' pain worse. Now I know your mother. She's outspoken, but she would do anything for you."
Lana only shrugged in response. She couldn't tell her teacher what all she really knew about Cassidy and how it was much worse than people thought. Everyone knew Cassidy had struggled with depression and anxiety, but only Lana knew why.
The teacher looked off to the side, unsure of what else she could say as she released Lana's arm. "Well, let's get to class. Maybe you can at least try to make it one last day."
"Yeah...it's probably better that I do," Lana said, but not for the reason her teacher thought. The truth was, if Lana didn't get her mind on something besides Cassidy, she really might hurt someone, and she knew what good that would get her.
Somehow Lana managed to do it, although she couldn't promise anyone that any of the work she'd done would earn an A, or even an A-. Her mind had pretty much stayed on "autopilot," as she liked to call it, all day, and had managed to eat lunch alone, which she hadn't had to do in years. Of course, several kids and staff stopped by to say how sorry they were about Cassidy, but no one actually sat down with her. Up to now, it seemed like there had always been either Cassidy or Joline, who had been her usual partner when doing school projects until she'd failed 9th grade but never really became a close friend.
After that bell finally rang, she dragged herself to her usual waiting spot and met April outside, and when their grandma pulled up next to the sidewalk, Lana didn't even try to claim the front passenger seat like she usually had to do around April.
"Shotgun!" April laughed, climbing into the seat next to their grandma. Lana just quietly got into the back. "Hey!" her grandma greeted them with a friendly smile.
"Hi Grandma!" April said sweetly.
"Hi." Lana smiled weakly, unsure what else to say.
"You're usually pretty talkative, Lana," her grandma commented. "Something the matter?"
"Yeah, what happened to you?" April asked with more curiosity than concern, twisting around in her seat to stare at her.
"Mom and I had an argument," Lana sighed, subdued.
"Oh. Well, try to show her some grace. A broken arm is very painful, both physically and mentally, since it's hard for someone like your mom to have to be so dependent," her grandma said.
Lana didn't protest like she normally would, instead just leaning her chin on her arm and watching the world pass by. The world was actually getting pretty good at doing that to her, she thought.
Once they pulled into the driveway of their house, Lana barely mumbled a "bye" and "thank you" before getting out of the car and trudging into the house with April in front of her. The door had been unlocked for them, and she prepared to hold her own if her mom was planning on a round 2 of scolding. Maybe not, though. Her mom was actually a very forgiving person--once she got all of her rant out.
Fortunately, this was one of her more forgiving days. "Were you able to survive today?" Mrs. Walden asked as she heard the back door close. She was relaxing in the living room with Sweetmeat, April's cat.
"Yeah..."
"Lana, why did you scream at me? Something was obviously wrong, but when I tried to call back and you didn't answer I figured you'd already gone back to class."
"Not exactly," Lana retorted. "I went back to the classroom, but I'd also had just about enough of your help."
Mrs. Walden set her mouth in a thin line, knowing her daughter had cut the phone off solely to avoid her. She rolled her eyes in frustration but just said, "Well, that's behind us now. Just get it over with and tell me what's the matter."
Lana opened her mouth to speak, but noticed that April was still standing there expectantly, backpack and all. She had a this-oughta-be-good look on her face.
"Can't you watch a cartoon or something?" Lana said to April. "Leave us alone."
April gazed at Mrs. Walden for confirmation. Sometimes it was hard for her to take her big sister seriously.
"I think that would be best," Mrs. Walden said tactfully to April. "Go on now."
"Nobody tells me anything around here," April complained.
After April had flounced off, Lana decided she should just tell her mom; keeping it inside would only kill her. "Well, I never told you this, but I had this friend, ever since middle school...her name was-is-Cassidy. Cassidy Myers." Now her chin had started to quiver. She couldn't finish.
"Oh, honey..." Mrs. Walden took Lana into her arms-her good arm, that is. "Don't hold it in. Just let it all come out now."
Lana finally hugged back, forgetting all about their previous phone conversation, and when she was able to stop crying enough to talk, she continued. "T-today at school, the teacher said she's missing. She could be dead right now. There's nothing I can do about it."
Her mother stared at her, her eyes like white saucers with small aqua-blue middles, shaking her head. "Lana...Lana...why? Why would you have possibly kept her a secret for so many years? We could have tried to help her!"
"You didn't let me finish, Mom! It was because she'd begged me not to tell anyone, even though she told me..." Lana paused. This was the part she wasn't supposed to say.
"Told you...?"
Lana took a deep breath. "That her parents were witnesses of a shooting in the town where they used to live. They're really paranoid about Cassidy trusting other people too much, so that's why we had to meet secretly." She wasn't sure whether she was possibly saving Cassidy's life or putting her into further danger, but now she'd said it. "Please...you can't tell anyone else."
"Oh...now I'm starting understand. Oh Lana, if I had known any of this, I would have by all means let you come on home. Why couldn't you have at least told your own parents instead of waiting for something like this to happen? It would have been okay for you to tell us. We could have tried to help them as much as we could, without them having to give their information to us."
Lana glared. "Why do you think? You and Dad were always threatening to send me to juvy because I hung out with the wrong kids, so eventually I just gave up on having friends, until I met her. And now she's gone!"
"Who's gone?" April pushed open the kitchen door and looked at her weeping sister.
Through her heavy breathing and the internal noise inside her head, Lana could still hear the animated voices from the TV in the other room. How she wished she could be in that happy, animated world instead of this one.
ns18.119.132.21da2
and then Add to home screen.