Hello, Goodbye

11: Saxon

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She isn’t at school the next day. Or the day after that – which is Friday. He wants to ask her so many questions about Wednesday night. He wants to talk about it with her, to laugh about it with her. “Where is she?” he asks Zeya on Friday afternoon during lunch.

“She didn’t come over my house Wednesday night, or Monday night. I haven’t really properly gotten to have a chat with her. I wonder where she was those nights. She wouldn’t tell me; she just gave me horrendously untruthful excuses. I mean, really, does she think I’m that stupid?” For a girl who seems to abhor everyone, she speaks an awful lot. “Do you know where she was? Or was she actually telling me the truth in a dumbstruck way?”

“She was over my place,” he considers telling the girl. “She was probably telling you the truth,” he says instead, in a quiet, thoughtful manner. “Look, Zeya, I’m going to go over to her house tonight and I’ll tell you on Monday what’s up.”

“She told you where she lives?” Saxon opens his mouth to respond but words don’t exit his mouth. He mentally face-palms himself, screaming stupid, stupid, stupid at himself. “Were you the person over her house on Monday and Wednesday night?”

“Uh.”

“Spit it out, Saxon.”

“Uh.”

“Saxon, come on. I won’t be angry at Grace.” She smiles a little bit. “I might be a little bit angry at you. Why? Because Grace doesn’t need a man to hang out with – particularly not you. You are careless and disorganised and the perfect example of a teenage dirt bag. But you’re letting her fall for you and you’re letting her fall pretty darn hard. So stop it before you hurt her. Because she’ll just close herself to the world again.”

“Zeya, you don’t know her. Or me. I’m not a teenage dirt bag. And I do care. I care a lot about Grace and I would never want to hurt her. And, who the hell are you to say that she’ll close herself to the world again?” He folds his arms over his chest.

“I was one of her best friends in primary school,” she explains. “She – I don’t know. She did something that offended or embarrassed our other friends. I stuck with the others and she left a sad mess. I didn’t know what to do. I tried talking to her but when someone shuts themselves out like that, talking isn’t going to do anything. I know her very well, Saxon. And I know that any pain which enters her life will shoot her down.”

“It’s easy to pick her up again, though, Zeya. That’s not your name, though, is it? Or she’d know.” She shrugs a little, her quirky and crooked smile finding its way onto her lips again.

“It’s my name for now. And possibly forever.” She pauses, biting her bottom lip. “She hasn’t forgiven any of us and I doubt she ever will. Being abandoned was one of her biggest fears and, continuously, it happened to her. Betrayed countless times, forgotten so many times. It’s a wonder she’s still alive.” An expression of sheer shock floods her features. “Alive! Saxon, she – what’d the two of you do on Wednesday night?”

“Nothing!” he exclaims, knowing what Zeya is suspecting. “We picnicked outside in the park close to her house. We watched the sunset, ate sandwiches and stargazed.” Zeya stands, slinging her bag onto her shoulder. “Wherever you’re going to look for her, I’m coming too.” He stands and pulls his backpack onto his back.

“I’m going to her house. And, yeah, you’re going to have to come. I don’t know where she lives, strangely enough.” She looks around the crowded cafeteria. “You ever skipped class without a note, Mr Fields?”

“We’re skipping? We’re sneaking out of school? We could just tell the receptionist that we think Grace might be in trouble. That’s a much more sensible option, Zeya.”