Paragon (n.)

Ryan 1: The House

June: one year A.G.

Sian McAndrews had dropped off the face of the Earth a day after graduation. And for the two days after that Ryan Shelby had been keeping an ear out for any rumors as to why Sian had upped and left. There weren't any, Sian’s disappearance had caused little if any rifts in her classmates lives.

It had however caused a tsunami in Ryan’s life. She now stood on the familiar porch, facing a familiar green door, anxiously hovering over the broken doorbell. A year was a long time, what was even longer was a year with no word from the person she called her best friend. She'd stood in the same spot for a countless amount of times a year ago. Everytime the door would open, and Laila Jean-McAndrews’ bright smile would greet her. Only to fade when the question neither of them had the full answer to popped up.

“She needed some time darling. She'll be back soon enough. So are you excited for Stanford? All packed and ready? I love California, the beach, the sun, it's just great. You'll have such a good time.” That was the last time Ryan stopped by with her persistent question.

When September came around, she found herself sleeping with the sun rising on the wrong side of the ocean, and not a peep from Sian.

This time when the door swung open, she wasn't greeted by Laila's bright smile, she was greeted with what she could only describe as a stranger. The girl on the other side was wearing Sian's clothes (her favorite jean cut offs and a t-shirt she could barely recognize) but the girl only had a small aura of the Sian that was there last summer.

“Oh, Ryan. You're here.” Her voice was still the same, surprisingly deep for a girl her size.

“Where in the world have you been?” What was meant to be a question full of rage, came out as a weak plea for answers.

Tears boarded both of their eyes, and no matter how hard she tried, Ryan couldn't get Sian to meet her eyes.

“I had to figure some things out. I'm sorry.” She told the ground, her voice clear and strong. Almost as if she'd conditioned herself to make it through the inevitable conversation.

Ryan’s patience was already wearing thin, and she for sure was not planning on leaving without something other than an I'm sorry. Which is why she found herself pushing past the stranger and into the home, aiming for the sofa in the living room.

“You're sorry? That's all you're gonna give me, Sian? No, I'm not leaving until you tell me what in the world happened. What was bad enough for you to just disappear. Did you even get my texts? I spent all summer wondering if you were okay. You didn't call, you didn't text, I sent you fifty emails! Fifty! All you had to do was reply, I'm fine or it's okay or just anything, Sian. Anything.” Her face must have looked beet red by the time she finished telling her friend off.

Sian stood there, staring blankly at Ryan, unsure of what to do next. So she did what she knew best, she walked upstairs to her room. And waited until she heard the front door slam closed.