Above

16

Estelle
"You planned the party?" Annaliesee asks proudly when I walk in her room.
It was true, I poured my heart and soul into the petty little party.
I simply nod.
"That's actually awesome." She grins.
"Thanks." I say, sitting on the edge of her bed.
Loud music filters through the crack in the window, which was cooling Annaliesee since she had a bad fever.
"Why aren't you at it?" She asks.
I pick at the sequins on my sparkly dress. "I don't want to be."
"Why not?" She asks.
I touch her cold hand. "Are you cold?"
"I'm fine." She says. "Estelle, don't change the subject."
"I don't know." I sigh, pushing myself back against the wall. "I think I'm going through a sad patch."
"Why?" She asks, trying to push herself up, only to fail.
"My first holiday season was spent with August, it feel weird to be enjoying it without him." I admit, bringing my knees to my chest.
She nods understandingly. "Make new memories. Closing yourself in a room with your injured sister isn't the neatest holiday memory."
"Well watching a bunch of plastered Pangaeans grind on each other isn't the best either." I say, smirking and looking over at her.
"It's better than thinking of your dead boyfriend all the time." She says.
I go quiet, biting my tongue.
"Was that insensitive?" She asks. "Sorry."
"It's whatever." I say, leaning my head against the chipped wall.
"Can I say something, without you getting offended?" She asks.
I nod and look toward her, still not used to her glasses-less face.
"You guys weren't right for eachother." She starts. "I don't know what set alarm bells off in my head more, when I heard he said 'I love you' when you had been seeing eachother for a few weeks, or that you moved in with him before that."
"But--" I start.
She holds up a hand, signaling she wasn't finished. "As cool of a guy he was, he got a flare of jealousy in his eyes everytime you talked to another guy. Which isn't okay. Plus, you only dated him for a little less than a year, but I guess puppy-love is common."
I stay quiet.
"So could you at least try to get over him? You aren't making any effort." She says.
I look over at her. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you felt that way. I guess I'll try."
She nods. "Thank you, now get to that party."
***
It was nine and everyone was either drunk, drinking, or clinging to the wall.
I look around for anyone I distinctly recognize.
Luca waves, and approaches.
"Hey." He drags on the 'ey' at the end.
"Hi." I fake-smile.
He grins. "Where were you?"
"I was with Annaliesee." I answer. "You smell like booze, are you drunk?"
He shakes his head. "Logan spilt on my earlier, so I'm wet and booze-y."
"I guess." I say.
He seems to take onto my sadness. "You good?"
I nod. "I'm fine."
"What did you and Annaliesee talk about?"
"Pea soup." I reply sarcastically. "We talked about pea soup."
"Oh, cool." He nods.
My eyes scan the crowd.
Gabrie and Leeciy were dancing, Cirus was doing some rock rendition of the Hokey-Pokey dance, September was laughing at her, Logan was dancing platonically with Ned, and Felicity and Fran were drink punch awkwardly next to eachother.
"It's weird, all our friends are having the time of their lives, and we're just talking." I say.
He nods in agreement. "We could dance."
"I can't dance." I say. "Two left feet."
"Oh." He says. "Well, as much as I love the scent of booze and sweat, do you want to step outside?"
I nod. "Of course."
***
Luca was wearing a slightly tattered suit, which looked crisper in the moonlight than it did in the half-lit mess hall.
"How have you been sleeping?" He asks, his lips pursed.
"Uh, okay I guess." I lie, keeping my eyes locked on the floor.
"I feel like you forgot we shared dreams." He mentions. "I can see what you dream about."
I look up at him. "I didn't forget."
"You cry in your sleep." He says. "Well, you have recently."
"How can you tell?" I ask.
"It's like a heavy sinking feeling in my chest." He explains. "I feel like I shouldn't have to be thiss worried about Estelle Ziveri."
"What do you mean?"
"You're so strong and so brave, and all of us think that." He says.
I look at the floor. "I'm not that strong, and I'm kind of a coward."
"That's the furthest thing from true." He says. "If anything I'm the weak and cowardous one."
"You aren't weak, you got through thirteen years of Hell with a smile."
"That's because I was going insane." He says.
"You were perfectly sane." I object. "I was going crazy."
"You are going crazy!" He says.
I crinkle my nose. "How?"
"You're always sad." He says softly. "You're always sad and pretending you're happy and it hurts to watch."
"My boyfriend is dead." I murmur.
"He is, and you've been depressed ever since." Luca says. "I miss you and I want my best friend back."
My hands quiver. "I want to get over him so bad, but he's just clung."
"What do you mean?" He asks.
I lean back against the wall of the mess hall. "Sometimes, it's like he's there, sitting next to me, talking about his books."
"But he's not."
"It feels like he is! And I'm so sick of it! The little things scattered around my house just remind me that he's gone!" I say loudly.
"Estelle." Luca says, taking on that pitiful tone that makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry.
"I want my life back." I say, holding back tears. "I'm so sick of being this way!"
Luca looks off into the distance, thinking. "I have an idea."
I look over. "What?"
"I don't know if it'll work, but it requires a little psychic."