The Girl With Stars In Her Eyes

Then Fade To Darkness

One day, a few weeks after our relationship sparked, I looked for Isabella, but I couldn't find her. I went out to where she always parks in the morning, but her car was gone. She had been in English class. I wondered if she ditched again, but she would have told me. I was about to call her when Fleur and Caleb came up behind me walking their bikes. "Hi, Jaime! Do you want to come start on that chemistry project at my house? We can go see a movie later, and you can invite Isabella if you want." Caleb's voice cracked at "want." Fleur laughed. "Yes, I'd love to," I said. We arrived at Caleb's house quickly; he lives the closest to school. Fleur and I live on the same street about a mile apart; her house is closer to Caleb's, which is on the same avenue as the school. When we entered the house, we were instantly greeted by Caleb's German Shepard, Eden. "Why hello there, Eden," Fleur said in a baby voice as she bent down to greet the dog.

"Hey, guys," Caleb's father called out from his office.
"Hello, Mr. Ackar," Fleur and I responded. He came out fully dressed in a suit and tie.
"You're leaving, dad?" Caleb asked.
"Yes, I'm sorry. Mom will be home soon though."
"Alright."

We started on our project as soon as Caleb's father left. We all wrote our names on the provided "Observations NoteBook." It struck me that our names, or handwriting rather, said much about us: "Fleur La Pierre" was neatly written in cursive followed by a scribble that read "Caleb Ackar," and lastly, "Jaime Briar" in tall printed letters.
We worked for a few hours before taking a break, and we decided to eat dinner at the new restaurant that had just opened, a Chinese buffet. I called Isabella, but she didn't answer.

After dinner, I tried to call Isabella again, but she didn't answer. I wondered then if something could have happened. I tried not to worry too much about it, but it sat at the back of my mind the whole rest of the day. Fleur went home around seven o'clock, but I stayed at Caleb's. We walked Eden and watched a series of scary movies that prevented us from sleeping most of the night. I tried to call Isabella again before going to bed. Still no answer.
At school the next day, Isabella still wasn't there. I went through the day worrying about her. It isn't like her to miss school or not answer me back for two days.

The weekend went by very slowly, and I still received no response from Isabella. She returned to school on Monday. "Isabella, I tried to contact you all weekend and you didn't answer. What happened?"
"I know, I'm sorry," she responded, "I just... listen, can we talk about this later?"
"Yeah... I mean yes, but just, are you okay? I'm worried about you."
"We'll talk about it later, Jaime."
She kissed me, preventing me from saying anything else. It made me feel better, but I was still worried. Something had to have happened. I just hope she's okay. She walked away from me but paused after a few steps. I thought she was going to turn around, but she didn't. She continued to walk away. I wanted to talk to her, but I knew she would refuse.

"I see your girlfriend is back," Caleb started at lunch. "Caleb," Fleur scolded before turning to me, "is she okay? She missed Thursday and Friday last week. Do you know what happened?" Fleur's hair was no longer straight; it rested wavily on her shoulders. Isabella was right, Fleur is pretty. "Jaime?" Her voice snapped me out of my admiration. "What? Oh, no. I tried to talk to her, but she said we could talk later."
"Hm," she looked at me like she thought I was withholding something from her. "Jaime, she looked miserable. I-" She stopped when Isabella walked up behind me.

"Hi," she said shyly, "can I sit here?"
Isabella usually sat with her coterie outside. I realized this is probably what she wanted to talk about.
"Of course," I said signaling to the open spot across from me next to Fleur.
She sat down and whispered a thank you. Meaningless small talk ensued.

Caleb and Fleur got up to go to the school library (and to leave us alone). When they left, Isabella seemed to take off her mask. She put her elbows on her legs and rested her forehead on her fists. "You okay, Bella?" I asked. She shook her head, "no." I went to her side of the table and sat next to her putting my arm around her. She leaned into me and rested her head on my chest. She eventually sat up and told me what I had already assumed: her friends ditched her. It was a little more than that, though. They ditched her for dating me, and they, according to Isabella, used much more profane language than "we're ditching you." As did I to the school as we pulled out of the parking lot. I drove us to my house in her car with my bike in the back.