There is an ocean of silence between us... and I am drowning in it.
~Ranata Suzuki
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"I'm excited to have you come stay, even if it's only for a few days." Ryder speaks from the other end of the phone.
I sigh and light a cigarette, a habit I picked up recently, a coping mechanism for the turmoil that has been brewing inside me. As I inhale, the smoke filled my lungs, and I exhale slowly, watching the wispy tendrils dance and swirl above me. The ethereal patterns seems to mock me, taunting me with their carefree grace. I sigh again, feeling the weight of my thoughts settle back upon me like a shroud. The cigarette smoke curls up towards the ceiling, "Tell me about Dally." I rip the bandaid off. "I want to know everything."
Ryder lowly laughs, "we'd be here all night if I told you everything."
I tap my nails on the counter and take another hit from my cigarette. "How did he react?"
Ryder pauses for a moment, "Charlotte, everyone was torn up."
I knew that. I knew I should've said goodbye, it haunted me everyday. "But what about Dally?" I ask again.
"If you want me to be honest...I don't see much of him anymore. I honestly haven't seen him since you left. He doesn't come around anymore. The day you left and he woke, he turned my whole house upside down. Hasn't came back since." I could hear Ryder taking a drag from his own cigarette. "He's alive, word has it he was in the cooler last month, didn't care to ask why, only god knows when it comes to that kid...I knew that he wouldn't change, losing you should've been the thing that finally showed him the way, but it wasn't, are you surprised?"
"No," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper, the truth feeling like a weight in my chest. I'm not surprised, but a part of me, a selfish part, couldn't help but feel a sting. Why hadn't Dally demanded answers from Ryder about my whereabouts? Why hadn't he fought to know the truth? The questions swirls in my mind like a storm, leaving a trail of hurt in their wake.
"And soda? How is he?" I ask
"Hurt," he says, his voice a whispered secret. "You hurt him real bad, Charlotte."
I sigh, the weight of my regret threatening to consume me. I take a seat at the island, my eyes fixed on the countertop, as if the answers to all my questions lay hidden in the granite. Ryder's words are l a punch to the gut, "You got a lot of damage control to do when you get back." I feel a surge of anger, my response snapping like a rubber band stretched too tight. "Don't you think I know that, Ryder?" I spat, the words tasting bitter on my lips.
Ryder's calm tone was a balm to my frazzled nerves, "Hey, I'm sorry, alright? You don't owe anyone anything...truly, you can come here...no one's even gotta know you're in town." His words gentle.
"No..." I run my hands through my hair, "You're right...I just...I just can't see Dally...Not yet."
*
I stand outside Ryder's, my back aching from the seven-hour drive, my mind racing with anticipation. I clutch my bags tightly, and smooth my hair for what feels like the hundredth time. My heart is racing, and my palms are sweating. I can't explain why I'm so nervous - it has only been a year, and Ryder and I talk every day, our conversations flow easily like we're still in each other's presence. But somehow, the thought of seeing him again, of being in the same room as him, makes my stomach do somersaults. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, and remind myself that this is Ryder,my best friend. But the butterflies in my stomach refuse to settle.
The door swings open, and Ryder's eyes lock onto mine, his face a mix of surprise and relief. My nervousness melts away like snow in the sun as I launch myself into his arms. He sweeps me up in a tight embrace, spinning me around in a circle, holding me like he never wants to let me go. When he finally sets me down, his hands instinctively reach for my hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as if trying to memorize every detail. "Your hair..." he says, his voice filled with wonder, and I realize with that I never told him about my new look, my hair now short and brown. I smile sheepishly, feeling a flutter in my chest. "Do you like it?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
