The Struggles of Growing Up-Completed

Chapter 10

"You better pick up, Mave." I murmur bitterly into the phone. This is the third time I've called and she hasn't picked up. I'm still mad, but worry and anxiety is starting to take over.

I don't even know who else I should call! Where to look? Gosh, who am I kidding, she's not mature at all. She's a child, not matter how many times she says otherwise, she acts like a child. I can't take care of her anymore, I can't. She has to go to New York with Aunt Marie.

I grab my keys after another failed call attempt and race out the front door, only to collide with Zach. Zach!?

"Ow!" I mutter, rubbing my forehead. "What are you doing here?" I demand, perplexed. I almost laugh at the situation. He gives me a sheepish smile.

"I don't like fighting." He says simply, as if that fixes everything and will make me run into his arms again. Well, it might, but I suppress the urge.

"Well, too bad we're fighting." I retort. How can he just come here, all calm, as if nothing's changed since Stanford? No, this is war. War has changed me. 

Clearly, I'm not in my right mind, remember that for later. 

He chuckles, so I roll my eyes and push past him to my car. He's seriously annoying me right now, and I'm not really a violent person, but I am impulsive. Oh yeah, history has proven that.

"Where are you going?" He asks, following me, as I fumble for the remote that unlocks the car.

"I have to find Maia." I force. He gives me a puzzled look, but I don't have time for that. I don't have time to recount my day. I have to find her before anyone else hears and we all get in trouble.

"What- what do you?..." He stammers. I groan.

"Ugh, Zach I don't I don't have time to explain, she ditched school and now I have to see if I can find her because she's not answering her phone." Now saying it out loud, I know it's impossible. She could be anywhere! Then again, how far could you get with out money or a car... She doesn't have money, right...? Oh, my stress levels are rising dangerously. I don't even know if I'm even overreacting or not, I've never even been close to a situation like this. 

"Let me go with you then." He says quickly while jogging to the passenger seat. I frown.

"No, go home. Go to work." I command, and I feel like I'm talking to a child. I hate that. I hate that I receive it and I hate that I talk to him like that. I frown and try to recompose myself. I must not lose it. I must not lose it. He merely sits in the seat and fastens his seatbelt. Gah! He's so difficult, he makes it so hard to be mad at him.

"Let me help you." I roll my eyes and start the car, not saying anything else to him.

I'm mostly driving through the outdoor mall closest to the Institute and around the streets, although I'm 100% sure she won't be here. She hated the mall when I took her. I knew I wasn't just going to find her walking around. But then, where would she go? I have no idea, besides art, and she already ditched that, what she likes to do or who she likes to hang out with. I start to worry and assume the worst. It's silent the whole time I'm driving too, well, except for my occasional curse word. Oops.

I pull over into the parking lot for a Starbucks and I sigh into my hands. I'm stumped. I don't know what else to do, or how to fix it. And that goes for everything today. 

"Hey, don't stress. It'll be fine, Emma." He soothes. He doesn't put his arm around me though, like he normally does. It only makes me feel emptier. I'm still mad at him, and still stressed, but I love him so much. I'm torn.

"I sure hope so." I look at him. Thankfully, I'm not crying. I'm all cried out, even though I really want to at this point. How I wish I could just be a little girl and cry. That certainly would be easier that trying to be the mature adult and taking care of (well, once I find her) a kid. Geez, what was I even thinking?! I need to sit down with myself and have a talk. Something's gotta give, and I know it won't be Zach. It can't be, but I know we have to talk if we ever want our relationship to be real, and great.