Isolation (Book #1 of the Taylor Series)

Twenty-Nine

When lunch time rolls around, I'm shocked to see Stella and Sienna sitting at my lunch table. With my food in one hand and a water in the other, I slowly walk over to them. I could just turn around now. I could go home and wait until Monday to see them again. Yet, my feet bring me closer to them against my better judgement.

I sit down at the table, and they share the same facial expression. Frantic, anxious, agitated. A sense of curiosity envelopes me as I wonder what was important enough for Sienna to stop being pissed at me and pretending that I don't exist. What could've been that severe that she'd set aside her differences with Stella and come within two feet of her?

"Have you seen him?" Stella asks, deep breaths exiting her mouth as if she'd just ran a marathon, "Have you seen Graham?"

I shake my head, taking a sip of my water, "I didn't know he was missing." 

Sienna takes my water bottle away from me and hands it to Stella. Stella gratefully takes it from her and gulps down everything except the bottle. Geez woman.

"Eve, this is serious. Stella broke up with him last night, and we don't know where he is. I saw him earlier before, and he was really fucked up. Like really fucked up." Sienna explains, and I shrug my shoulders.

"I haven't seen him, but I can help you guys look for him," I mutter, standing up from my seat. 

Stella, with tears in her eyes, hands me back my empty water bottle. We walk in the direction of the empty hall with Sienna leading us. Passing through the double doors, I catch a whiff of raunchy body odor. It's amazing how high schoolers don't know how to shower, or at the very least drown themselves in perfume and deodorant. The girls stop, and I wait for them to tell me what to do.

"Alright, I'll look for him in the Band Room. I looked in there earlier, but he might be there now." Sienna says, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. Her voice brings me comfort, makes me miss how everything was before, especially when she isn't yelling at me.

"Okay, I don't mind going to the gym or the auditorium." Stella wipes her dripping eyes.

I feel a sense of numbness. How dare she cry about him now? Isn't she the one who broke up with him because he quote-unquote 'couldn't satisfy her anymore'. The nerve of her.

"I suppose I'll look around the parking lot or something," I conclude, and they both nod, walking in the direction of their assigned rooms to investigate.

I sigh, pulling out my phone, checking to see if Graham left me any messages. None, zilch. How am I supposed to look for someone who probably doesn't want to be found? He just went through a bad breakup--a terrible breakup--and these two girls won't give him space. I decide to be just like them.

Clicking on his contact picture, I began typing out a short, to-the-point message. 

Where are you? 

I know that Stella and Sienna aren't dumb and I'm nearly positive that they tried calling him and texting him already, but it doesn't hurt to try. I begin walking in the direction of the same parking lot I spent my first class. Then, my phone vibrates in my pocket, and butterflies erupt in my stomach. 

Not good butterflies. The nervous kind, the kind of butterflies you get when you're waiting to see if the fox eats the little rabbit babies on those Nature shows. I hate those butterflies.

Football Field Bleachers.

It's a brief message, a message very unlike Graham. I walk outside and shiver, but I'm not too sure when it actually became cold again. It's bright and the chill of the afternoon air bites at my skin, forcing me to wrap my sweater around me tighter.