The Wendigo's Hunger

chapter 7 The Weight of Grief

Five Days Earlier

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the mostly empty school campus. Finn and Mylo found themselves alone in the parking lot as students trickled out for the day. Mylo, finishing up his tutoring session, packed his books into his bag with methodical precision, while Finn wrapped up with his football gear.

Finn approached with a friendly smile, breaking the silence. "Hey, Mylo. I noticed you're still here. Want a ride home? I'm heading out now."

Mylo looked up, surprised but appreciative. "Oh, sure. I didn't realize you were offering. Thanks."

"No problem," Finn said, gesturing toward his car. "It's the least I can do. Let's get out of here before it gets dark."

Mylo chuckled, walking over to Finn's car and sliding into the passenger seat. "You know, you don't have to be nice to me just because I'm Hannah's friend."

Finn started the engine and glanced over at Mylo, his smile wavering slightly. "I'm not being nice to you because you're Hannah's friend. It's because you're nice and cool." He hesitated, almost revealing more than he intended.

Mylo's smile widened as he looked out the window. "Well, I appreciate it. It's nice to have someone looking out for me."

Finn, trying to sound casual despite his nervousness, said, "Yeah, well, I guess I just enjoy spending time with you."

Mylo noticed Finn's hesitation and asked, "Is there something else on your mind?"

Finn shook his head, his voice softer. "Nah, it's nothing. Just... you know, glad to be hanging out with you."

Mylo's reassurance came gently. "Same here. It's nice to have a friend who cares."

As they drove, their conversation shifted to lighter topics, but an underlying tension hinted at deeper feelings. The scene closed with Finn and Mylo sharing a look of mutual understanding, their new, unspoken connection hanging in the air.

Rachel sat in her room, the glow of her phone screen casting a soft light on her face. Her heart raced as she typed out a message to Mikey, the person who made her feel special. "Hey baby, whatcha doing?" she sent, her fingers trembling slightly.

She watched as the message disappeared into the digital ether, her hope mingling with anxiety. Mikey's responses had become sporadic lately, and she felt a pang of worry as the minutes ticked by without a reply.

Rachel's eyes flicked to her phone's screen. The message status showed "Read," but still no response. The feeling of being ignored gnawed at her, a familiar and uncomfortable sensation. Trying to shake off her worries, she focused on her appearance in the mirror app, fiddling with her hair and smoothing her clothes.

After a few more anxious minutes, she sent a follow-up text. "Are you okay? I just wanted to hear from you."

The silence stretched on, frustration mingling with her growing unease. Surrounded by friends and the virtual world she turned to for solace, Rachel felt an increasing sense of isolation. The contrast between her curated online image and the reality of her relationship with Mikey started to chip away at her confidence, leaving her feeling vulnerable.

As she set her phone aside, the unsettling thought crept in: Maybe Mikey wasn't as invested as she had hoped. She tried to focus on the mundane details of her day, but the underlying worry remained, leaving her with a gnawing sense of neglect.

Malachi sat at the kitchen table, his textbooks and notebooks scattered around him. The ticking of the kitchen clock seemed louder than usual, amplifying his frustration. His parents' voices floated in from the living room, their conversation carrying occasional bursts of tension.