Ecstasy

Chapter 57

Calla:

I was running. The wind whipped past me, pushing my tears into my hair. What had just happened?

I woke up a little more than half an hour ago to an empty bed. It was almost like last night was a dream. It didn't really happen. But I went downstairs and found the two cloudy glasses sitting on the coffee table and the tray of cookies half eaten.

It had happened. "Tyson?" I had called out into the empty house. My heart was gradually rising in its rhythm. I started to shake. I started to panic.

I had run back upstairs, checking all the rooms with urgency.

"No. No, no!" I prayed to god he was still there. I had dived for my phone on my bedside table. I scrolled, trying to find his face. I had accidentally clicked on Dad. Quickly I ended the call before it started.

I clicked on Tyson's picture, holding the phone to my ear. It rang out, both times I tried calling. I remember the tears pricking my eyes. What should I do?

Obviously he had slipped away in the night or early morning while I was still asleep. Why? Was he scared? I was glad now I hadn't said those three little words. He would have totally freaked out.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had shoved myself into black leggings, pulled a sweatshirt over my head and stuffed my feet into my running shoes. My thoughts were along one subject; I had to find him. He had to be somewhere.

I was out the door in under five minutes and it was bright. The sun had risen but there was still that nip in the air. I remember shielding my eyes from the brightness and looking down both ends of the street. Which way could he have gone?

I ended up at Nate's house. My feet took me there by memory. Tyson wasn't there though, the household had not awaken. He was too busy, standing in a coffee shop, kissing someone else.

I wish I hadn't left my room now. I wish I hadn't woken up. I wish last night hadn't happened. My chest hurt. I was suddenly home. Stomping up the stairs I couldn't hold back the hysteria. I hiccupped, tears streaming. Blurring my vision.

I collapsed down onto the bed. It was still unmade. I could smell him on my pillow. I sat up and chucked it across the room. My phone was beeping but I didn't look at it. I didn't want to hear anymore excuses from him.

I heard the doorbell ring but I didn't get up. My eye's flicked to my clock, it was only eight thirty. Mum wouldn't be home for another couple of hours. Suddenly I sat up, I heard the front door squeak open, I mustn't have locked it.

"Calla?" A voice called out. Female, familiar. Mitchie's voice.

I heard her footsteps make their way up the stairs. I didn't look up at the knock on the door.

"Honey?" Her voice was soft and plush, just as she was when she took me into her arms.

"What are you doing here?" I sniffed, my arms around her waist, my head in her lap.

"Tyson called me," her voice was quiet, she stroked my hair back from my face. "He wanted to make sure you were okay."

Her statement made me cry harder. She rubbed my back and waited.

When I was reduced to just small sobs and hiccups she spoke again. "What happened?"

I sat up and wiped my eyes. Trying to dry my face with my hands. I ignored her question. "I'm fine. I'm fine."

***

Life had been on accelerate the past few days. Everything buzzed by so fast I felt like I was the one in slow motion. I had avoided him in the halls at school. I had rejected most of his calls and let the rest go to message bank. He left messages. Many. All of them followed the same script.