Bitter

twenty-seven - lydia

We were twenty minutes into our search for West when I decided to say anything to Cal. I had "kept up" with Cal like he'd told me to do and I think that made him angry for some reason. Like it was supposed to be impossible for me to jog around a neighborhood.

The full moon helped me see him a little better a few feet ahead. He was still drenched from head to toe after getting Marco and as we walked in the middle of the street in the cool, autumn air, I thought I could hear water sloshing with every step he took. He didn't say anything about it though. He actually didn't say anything to me the entire time, acting as if I wasn't right behind him. So I figured it was useless if I tried telling him about somebody grabbing my leg in that dark room at the party.

   We had both silently opted to just take the road instead of hopping any more fences. I sighed, kicking a rock into a ditch, as we neared the edge of the neighborhood and came to a crosswalk. This was where I mumbled, "I don't think we're going to find him." I was just thinking realistically. I was looking down as I walked, shoes crunching the leaves that littered the ground. I didn't know what time it was now and I definitely didn't check. I think it was safe to say West Haley was nowhere near us and he'd probably laugh if he knew we were still searching for him.

Cal either didn't hear me or ignored me and crossed the street, coming up to a church. I hesitated at the curb as he strolled away. I was debating on turning around and letting him go on alone since he'd like that better anyway, but I eventually hurried after him and this made me realize just how weird tonight was. I was following Cal Warrick of all people at (I finally checked the time) 2 AM, looking for a guy with a switchblade that almost killed me on a playground. West would never listen if I tried to explain to him that it wasn't my fault my dad did what he did. And then left Mom and I.

Trailing Cal, I passed the church while the crickets chirped in the trees that lined the sidewalk, swaying softly in the breeze. Occasionally a car would hum by and stoplights would flick from red at the intersection, dousing pavement in a green glow. It was a quiet night, a nice night. That is, it would be nice if I wasn't looking for a potential murderer with a potential murderer.

I wasn't even thinking about where we were until I saw the familiar two-story building in front of me. Children's artwork hung in the windows and I could tell, even in the light of the moon, the front doors were still an ugly shade of yellow. Cal didn't stop walking. He kept heading for Landon Elementary, disappearing through the gates to the side of it that led to a set of monkey bars, a swing set, and a couple platforms with ladders and slides attached. Reluctantly, I followed.

When I arrived at the playground, I found Cal standing in the middle of all of the equipment, glancing around as if expecting West to jump out and attack him. I was now standing beside him and I saw him narrow his eyes. "Not here," he said, his voice low and somewhat disappointed.

He shoved his hands in his sweatshirt pockets and scanned the playground one more time. Then with a huff, he trudged over the mulch and dropped into one of the swings. He sat there, soaking wet in the shadow of the tall maple tree behind him. I couldn't even see his face from where I was, but I didn't have to to know he was mad. I also didn't need to see him shivering to know that he was probably cold.

I almost didn't do what I did next. He just wanted attention, that's all it was. Sitting all miserable in the swing. But then I thought about what happened to Marco and how that could happen again and West had gotten away with it. I definitely couldn't take down West alone and Cal and I both seemed to hate him.

And maybe that bruise around Cal's eye made me grimace and feel bad for him. Just a tiny bit.

So I did something I hoped I wouldn't regret.