All That's Left

Chapter 12 | Vania

Two years ago

My phone started ringing where it lay on my desk for the fourth time this afternoon. I didn't need to check the screen to know who it was.

The day after Lucas and I broke up, he disappeared. That wasn't unusual though. There were many times when Lucas and I were still together when he would disappear and no one would be able to reach him. He always showed up a day or two later though, acting as if nothing happened. 

I never asked him where he went when he disappeared, seeing as the first I asked him, he lashed out at me. I just accepted the fact that he would show up whenever he was ready and went on with my day.

But when Lucas returned to Penasco a day later, I didn't expect him to bombard me with calls and messages throughout the entire day. 

That was a week ago. 

Since then, Lucas has called me at least two times a day, and sent me several messages, all of which I have left unanswered. I wasn't ignoring him or trying to be mean, but at some point, he had to get the message.

He only lived a street away from me, and I had seen him every day at school since he came back. If he wanted to talk to me, he could do it in person. I wasn't going to talk things out with him over a phone. And if he wasn't happy with that, then so be it. 

Dad appeared in the doorway of my bedroom, his arms crossed over his chest. 

''Don't you think he's getting a bit excessive?''

''I don't think he's taking his medication, Dad,'' I respond softly, closing the recipe book I was looking through in search of new recipes Dad and I could try out. 

Not a lot of people knew Lucas was bipolar, but I could guarantee that a lot of them probably thought he was with his extreme mood swings that got noticed by the majority of people at school. 

''I called his mom this morning,'' I tell Dad, standing up to retrieve my phone from my desk. ''She told me that they would be keeping an eye on him.''

Dad sighed, leaning against the doorframe. ''Whether he's taking his medication or not is no excuse for calling you this much, Van. What he's doing could be seen as harassment, you know.''

''Should I just answer him?'' Dad understood why I wasn't answering Lucas, and he agreed on my reasoning, but I could tell he was getting worried. 

''That's up to you, Van. But if he starts bothering you or just making you a tad bit uncomfortable,  then you need to tell me, Vania.''

''It won't get to that point, but I'll let you know, Dad. You don't have to worry so much about me.''

''Of course I do,'' Dad says firmly, ''you're my teenage daughter. ''

''Oh, please,'' I say, rolling my eyes. ''You're making it sound like I sneak out to go get drunk every night or something.''

Dad huffs, shaking his head. ''If only you would  do that. Instead, you're the poster child for responsibility. But I'm not complaining, believe me. I'd rather have you being responsible than receiving a call from the cops, or worse, the hospital. I just worry you're not having fun, Van. You either spend your free time with the Lowe's, which I highly encourage, or you're cooped up in the kitchen with me, slaving away over recipes.''

''Dad, have I ever given any indication that I don't enjoy baking? I'd choose your baking lessons and the Lowe's over parties and alcohol any day.''

Dad smiled, finally accepting my answer. 

''Look, Van,'' he said after a while, a hint of concern in his voice. ''I know you have the biggest heart in the world, but I don't want you calling Lucas's mom, okay? Lucas is almost eighteen years old, it's not your job to look after him, and it's not your responsibility to call around and ensure he's taking his medication."