Please Understand

Chapter 26: Obsession

"University of Washington? The Huskies? What are you thinking, Mason?" Dad gruffly asked as he stabbed at his scrambled eggs. For once, I had his full attention during a conversation. "You'll never make it to the pros with a football team like that."

I sat there, drinking my milk, and feeling a sense of normalcy, like we were back in time. "It's a good school, Dad. Plus, if I'm good enough to be in the pros, then they'll see that no matter what team I'm on," I insisted even though I wasn't sure if I wanted to play football anymore. Maybe I could go to law school. Maybe I could become a detective. "Kellen Moore put the Broncos on the map. Now they suck without him."

He rolled his eyes at me because I was dissing his favorite team. "You're not as good as Kellen. You need good coaches and a good team behind you," he retorted with a small smirk, clearly enjoying our friendly banter.

"Hey, Coach Pete is with the Huskies now, so I have a pretty good coach," I replied with a shrug. "And I'm sure I can get a team rallied behind me; I did that here."

There was a small, proud twinkle in his eyes. He always gets this way when we talk about football. "You're right, but don't cross the Ducks off your list yet, or the Broncos. I'd love it if you were here, so we can come to your games," he hinted as he shoveled his breakfast into his mouth.

I smiled back, and avoided looking at my mother. "I'm meeting with the scout sometime today. I told him I couldn't go until this afternoon. I want to see Mom's broadcast," I cheekily replied as I tried my best to bring her out of her dark cloud.

She sat there, stirring her oatmeal, but she didn't look up. Her trademark red lipstick was long abandoned, and I hardly recognized her without it. "It's not a big deal," she whispered to the table.

Dad glanced at her, and then back to me. "Yeah, she hasn't even rehearsed her speech like she usually does. I'm sure she'll do great."

I nodded my head, and we ate in heavy silence for a few moments. I wished it would've lasted longer.

"I hope your meeting with the scout goes well. I always knew one of the Maxwells would amount to something," Dad muttered under his breath in a weak attempt to fill the unbearable void.

Mom's eyes were finally on him, but she didn't say a word. Her eyebrows came together, and her lips were tight, making her look like she was holding back her words.

"You amounted to something," I interjected with a smile. Can't we be normal for one meal? "You have a family, and a nice job. There shouldn't be much to complain about."

He shrugged his shoulders, and looked at Mom again. "Sometimes I think I should've stuck with football. Maybe we could all have more."

Suddenly, Mom stood up from the table, grabbed her belongings, and strode out the front door. She never leaves without saying goodbye. Either her speech is really getting to her, or Dad pissed her off.

He rolled his eyes as he cleared the table, cleaning the mess she left. "She's a little off her rocker these days," he grumbled as he headed towards the sink.

My body felt heavy. Breathe in and out. "Well, it must be hard for her. She's trying to help the detectives find Amelia, and they still have no idea where to look next," I flatly stated as I grabbed my plate and cup. Talking about Amelia was slowly becoming easier with the help of my therapist, but my heart still ached.

Dad stalked passed me to grab his jacket and keys. "It's hard on all of us, Mason. Good luck today," he grumbled as he followed Mom's lead. He left the house in a hurry, leaving all of the negative energy here with me.

I sighed, but did all I could to distract myself from my thoughts of Amelia. Dr. Keshner keeps telling me to stop obsessing because apparently I'm addicted. I need to keep my thoughts on the tasks in front of me, so I flipped on the TV to wait for Mom's debut. The station thought it would be a good idea to update the town on the insanity of their case, but hearing a few of the details from Mom left me feeling empty. They weren't any closer to finding her. I tried playing on my phone, and maybe I shouldn't have. Maybe I should have stayed away from social media all together, or maybe I should have been thinking about what I want to say during my meeting.

But obsession isn't easy to simply stop.

The University of Washington was still calling my name, over and over in my head, so I went to their Facebook page. They had pictures of their massive campus, bigger than the ones here, a giant library, and updates on their students. All around, it seemed like a great school. The one Amelia always talked about. That library, it was something I'm sure she dreamed about.

I went through their posts, looking at the people who liked them, feeling my heart race as my insatiable obsession increased. There had to be something to appease my insanity. Obviously, my therapist's words were the last things I was thinking of. Instead of acting on my impulses, I'm supposed to write them down in the journal, so we could talk about it at our next meeting.  This was something I had to do, and then maybe I could move on. Maybe I could quit obsessing after this one relapse. 

The TV got louder as a special announcement appeared, so I abandoned my phone, and leaned forward, feeling slightly guilty. Detective Nix stood at the podium with my mother on the right, and his new, super buff, partner stood to his left. "We have been working tirelessly to find Amelia Jackson," he stated in a clear, confident voice. In a small corner of the screen, her picture sat, and I couldn't stop staring at her fake smile and big eyes. Her senior portrait. "We have a lead, but we still need your help. If you have any information on her whereabouts, please call the number on the screen. We have solved seven missing person cases, and more to come this week. While this is a major break in the case, we want to bring Amelia home." He stepped down to trade Mom places.

"Three of the girls we found are safely home with their families. Seeing them reunited has given us all hope and reestablished our determination to find Amelia," she announced with a shaky smile. She's done so many of these before, so why is she visibly nervous? She looked down at her papers, and tears streamed down her cheeks. "Amelia, honey, if you're watching this, just know that we are going to bring you home. Hang in there."

She can't do that. She has to stay impartial, so the footage was cut, and Amelia's picture took over the screen with her description, and the number to call. I rubbed my face with both of my hands, and leaned back on the couch. Why can't any of the Maxwells keep it together?

The news went back to their regular anchors, who discussed the details of the case, showing the three living girls they were able to rescue. They even went as far as to say this case was beginning to gain national recognition. Melody and Bryn were going to appear on the Today Show for a special interview, so they could release details of the torment they went through. I would do everything in my power not to watch the program. If Amelia was really there with them, then I don't think I could handle hearing what she went through. Hasn't she been through enough as it is?

I went back to my search, and on the next post I clicked on, I found my answer. A picture of their expansive library with fifty likes, and one name stood out among the rest. Rose Cooper. The name jumped off my screen, so I clicked on her profile. Her privacy settings were as high as they could possibly be, no profile picture, but I could still see the five people on her friends list. My heart was racing as I clicked on a red haired girl's profile. Allison Collins had perfectly curly red hair, bright amber eyes, and a septum piercing. The best part about her? Her profile was public. Immediately, I went through her pictures of college life at UW: parties and her boyfriend. Normal. Finally, there was a picture of her posing with two of her friends, their arms were wrapped around each other in sloppy drunkenness, but the background caught my attention.

My heart stopped beating.