Focus

Finally Some Time To Think

Thud.

Calum's old soccer ball hits the ceiling and falls back into my hands. I extend my arms above my face lazily and push the ball away from me again.

Thud.

This is pretty much how things have been going for the past couple weeks. I wake up and make coffee every morning, and I sit alone at the breakfast table since Sarah is at the community college full time now. Afterwards I read a couple chapters of my English lit book, highlight some things, then pull out my guitar and strum a few chords. It's been slow going since the boys left. Aisling is also back in Fort Lauderdale until the party in a few days, which she says is going to be a huge turnout but public events have kind of lost their appeal to me - it's not just because of everything that went on with Brandon but also because I've lost the will to try new things if I have no one to share the memories with. Calum has called me a few times since he left - enough for me to know that they've hit Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana so far, and their next stop is Texas. They've even gained a few fans along the way; people are starting to follow their work now, which is huge news. However, not all of us can be so fortunate as to get discovered. Most of my time is spent wandering around the city looking for songwriting inspiration but for the last few days, I've found the buildings completely dry. Nothing I'm seeing is sparking a single idea for me. This is kind of surprising, since city lights and crowded plazas almost always give me inspiration; there's just something about a group of busy people that gets my creative juices flowing.

I'm about to toss the ball upwards again when my phone buzzes underneath the blanket next to me. I pause and perk my ears up to listen. It's been so long since my phone has rung that I almost forgot what it sounded like. I toss the soccer ball onto the floor next to me and reach under the blanket to pull out my phone. "Hey," I say with a grin. "Hey," I hear from the other end of the line. It's Amanda. A rush of happiness floods my body. "How is, uh, how's Vienna?" I ask. She gasps. "It's incredible! You should see the buildings here, just absolutely gorgeous. And the food? Ohhh myyy goddd." I giggle. Of course she's having a blast. It's just what she does. It's so nice to hear someone else's voice, for a change. I haven't really talked to anybody yet, and June is almost over. The boys seem to be having the time of their lives and I'm so proud of them, but I miss when it was just a small jam session where the five of us would grab our guitars and sit on my back porch.

"How come you haven't..." I begin, a lump forming in my throat. I swallow hard. "How come you haven't called?" She coughs. "I thought you were busy." "I'm never busy, Amanda. You know me better than that." I trace my finger along the seam of my bedsheets and wait for her reply. "Wait," she says. "You're not with Calum?" This is the first time I've heard his name out loud since I last said it four weeks ago. My heart skips a beat. I want to see him again. After clearing my throat, I respond firmly, "He left with his band to go play around the country for a while." I hear a scoff from the other line. "You mean he left you all alone?" She asks indignantly. "What about Aisling?" "Also gone," I add. "Went back to Fort Lauderdale for a bit, but we're planning a party down in the Keys if you wa -" "It's not right that they all left," she interrupts me. Anger clouds my head. I've been alone the entire summer. Not once has anyone bothered to worry for my safety or well-being, except now, when it makes Amanda look bad for not being here. "You did the same thing," I blurt. Saying this feels good at first. Satisfying. But the silence on the other end of the phone makes me regret it after a while. Neither one of us speaks for a few moments. "This isn't the same thing," she says quietly. "I would never do to you what Aisling did. You knew I was leaving. She abandoned you."

"Okay, don't talk about her like she's some sort of heartless animal," I say defensively. "She came back. She...she's trying." Amanda lets out a long sigh into the phone. "Just because you're still mad at her doesn't mean I'm not allowed to move on," I continue. "I just wish, after all that I had to go through this year, maybe someone would have stayed just to make sure I was okay. Because even though every day I look in the mirror and try to convince myself that I'm fine, I still don't know how I'm supposed to feel. Is it okay to still be scared of Brandon? Is it normal to be worried about Calum? Why am I so sad all the time?" I let these words hang in the air for a little while. Another thing that's been difficult about my summer solitude is not being able to speak my mind. I feel all these emotions but I can't really quite put my finger on what I'm thinking, so I just push it away and bury my crap with more crap until I don't feel anything at all. For a while it was easier that way. Now that I'm finally speaking with someone else, it's almost impossible for me to stop talking. She sniffles quietly. "I'm sorry," she says finally. "But Han, you're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for."