WHERE THE LOST ONES WILL GO

three

Neither of us speaks.

The city I once loved falls behind my eyes, replaced by barrens, grassy lands and empty skies. No longer do we hear the sounds of cars and people. It is just us and the roads.

Dylan ignores my silent treatment. He turns on the music to drown out the tenseness. When this doesn't work, he begins talking about this marvellous new life he is forcing me into.

"They're excited to see you," he tells me. "You won't remember, but you've met Parker's younger siblings before."

I know Parker. Not that well. He's a year older than Dylan, but he repeated first grade, and they've been attached by the hip since those fortunate first few days of elementary school. My memories paint a tall boy, with dark black hair and dark eyes. High cheekbones, and pale skin. The last time I saw him was before, well, everything. So I was fifteen, which would have made him nineteen.

I cannot remember Parker's younger brothers though.

I pretend to not listen to Dylan as he explains, "Kieran's sixteen; a good kid. He's class president. Plays a bunch of sports. He helps around the house a lot. He tidied up his old room for you, so thank him for that–"

Dylan is trying. I can see that. I just don't care.

He could have told me. He could have stayed. Sure Chicago burdens us with everything that has happened, but I refuse to run away from it all. Dylan doesn't care. I have to follow him. I'm not allowed to stay.

"Soren's eighteen," Dylan goes on to explain. "Nice kid. Has a lot of friends, he'll show you around, I hope." That is all my brother explains. He goes on to explain the town. Only it's not a town. "It's considered a village. No one calls it that though."

Great, I think.

"Everyone knows each other, it's a very friendly neighbourhood, I promise, Jude. It's better than what you think. We live pretty far off, maybe a few miles, from the town square, so you can bike there or we'll take the truck. There's something of everything – great food too. Uh, the school doesn't have many students, but you can do online school if you want. They don't have many teachers, so most of their classes are online anyway."

"Why?"

This is the first word I have spoken to him in hours.

Dylan is shocked. He stutters out, "What do you mean?"

I turn to him. My frown deepens. I am stuck in the passenger seat, screw his two-seater. "Why here? Why move so far? To somewhere like this?"

"Care to elaborate?"

I roll my eyes. "You know exactly what I'm saying, Dylan. Why move to somewhere so quiet? Unknown?"

"It's not unknown." Dylan smiles, even though I can tell it's forced. I'm pushing him to his limits. He's growing frustrated; he expected my compliance quicker than this. If he did, he does not know me well enough. At all. "We get a few tourists a year, you know."

I swallow. "How many months?"

"For what?"

"Till I can go."

The smile slips off Dylan's face. "Give it a chance, Jude. That's all I ask."

"You're being inconsiderate."

"I'm being inconsiderate?" he scoffs.

"You didn't tell me," I mutter. "Not once over those two years could you tell me. You knew, all I thought about was going home. And now you're shoving me into this new place with a few guys I barely know."