badnews { jace norman }

forty-seven

I honk my horn at him in attempt to lighten the mood. But he turns with a glare on his face, just before dissapearing into Corner Coes, our towns local gas station.

I rest my head aginst my hand as I wait. Remaining in the heated car, warming my uncovered skin by a loose tshirt.

I watch nonchalantly at the teenagers, sitting on the bench besides the door. Puffy jackets and a blunt stuck between their teeth. Laughing and giggling at the conversation between then.

It was good to know that teenage years aren't so stressful for most people anymore. Or was it? Was my situation just like theirs? Did their mom leave them, after they got out of juvie? Or was their mom a runaway who's being chased after by their ex- drug addicted self?

It was doubtful, but it lead to think what their life is actually like. Distraught parents who didn't mind where their kids where or what they were doing at any hours of the day. Maybe hard working. maybe immarure, drug inflicted people just like their kids.

And then I wonder. Would people in the 80s ever picture our problems like this? Did anyone at any point? Because growing up i was promised to depend on my parents, to ask for help, to be responsible. But did it end up in the result that we had pictured for ourselves? All of us?

I hazily watch Jace back to the car, two coffees within hand. Managing to open the door and hand one to me as he got in.

I nod a thanks, taking a cautious sip and setting it into the cup holders between us. His remains between his legs.

I sit still, wondering if maybe now was the time to bring up how he was feeling. Just to know what was actually going on in his head for once. For him hiding behind his emotions and not letting the real ones out, to be over with.

"Are we gonna go, or?" He glances over at me, an annoyed feeling laced within his tone.

I nod silently, turning the ignition over from half. Backing up out of the parking lot. Only to frame an awkwardly quiet car ride onto the freeway.

"Homes the other way"

"I have to stop at Planned Parenthood"

He nods, watching out his window without prying anymore.
He flips on the radio to relieve the tension within the car. But the formally spoken lady on the other end only strickens it.

-on the look out for missing persons Veronica Norman. Last seen at the CR State Police Station two weeks ago. Picked up by a navy blue Sierra pickup. Police offer an award for any tips leading to her finding. If you have any information on the missing person. Contact Missing Persons hotline or call 911-

He quickly presses it off again. Sighing at the thought that he's been trying to push out of his mind for weeks.

The news about his mom missing had blown up around our small town. Sprouting outwards to all of North California. Drifting to the middle of the state.

Search teams had fled the area. Looking within the woods and outskirts of rural areas. Two weeks, going on three weeks straight.

97.9% of people are found dead after seven days of kidnapping. It had been almost nineteen. And no matter how many times we had convinced each other that she wasn't kidnapped. We kept coming back to it.

I exit off the highway. Stopped at a stop light with a long line of traffic ahead. Nothing to concentrate on.

"Hey..."

"Hmm?" He watches over at me.

"Do you know where your prescription information is?"

"Why?"

"I just thought- if you have it with you, we could pick you up a new perscription. Find one that doesn't make you feel as shitty?"

His eyes light up for a spilt second, liking the idea, before sinking again.

"My dad has it"

"Shit" I mummble.

"We can go get it"

"Youre up for that?"

"I have off this coming wednesday" he nods.

"Sounds good to me. We'll drive out here. There's a pharmacy right down the road from the plaza"

"Alright"

"Alright" I take my turn to cross at the yellow light.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah" I watch over at Jace, taking turns to glance at the road.

"Where do you think my mom is?- be honest."

"I think, she's somewhere out there, alive, fucking up and acting like a teenager again. I think that, when we do find her, you finally need to let her know how you feel"

"How do I feel?"

I hesitate for a second, finding my concentration fade from the road to my thoughts. Finding myself wondering the same question. What does he feel?

"Youre tired. Not tired of her but just tired. Physically drained from keeping up with this secret love affair that you have with the shit your mom does. Because it keeps you on your toes. You love that, but you're tired, because eventually even the biggest problem chasing junkies needs to sleep. And you don't even get a break."

"Jesus Margo"

"What?"

"That should be on a Hallmark card."

"I dont even know why I bother trying to keep a conversation with you."

He chuckles lightly. Sending waves of warmth throughout me. I smile at the action. It's been so long since I've heard something so genuine come from him.

His laugh that would tear me to a million pieces everytime it rings through the room. Because it was one of those laughs. Contagious, but not as much contagious as it was perfect. And after seeing someone with a laugh like that, so sad for months, it draws you back. Surprised you to think that there still is happiness in that person's life. And it makes you happy. Because that's all you've ever wanted for that person.

》》》》》》》》》》》》
The car rolls back centimeters on an incline as I throw it to park.

"What are we doing here anyway?"

"Just have to pick something up"

He glances up at the Planned Parenthood sign, then to me. Questioning with a look as to whether I wanted him to come in with me.

"I'll only be a few minutes, stay here"

He nods. I leave the keys in the ignition, pulling my way through the cold air up to the building.

So much going through my mind, I allow the looks as I walk in. Although everyone around didn't have room to give those looks.

We were all here for the same reason.