Disappointed (Alex Wolff)

Chapter Six: The Realization

     Alex opens the passenger side door for me and helps me in the car. He closes the door and I buckle my seatbelt. I try to ignore the fact that the last time I was in a car, my family was torn apart. I'm also kind of scared about going into my house for the first time without my dad.

     I look over at Alex, who is now pulling out of the parking lot. The drive to my house leaves us in an awkward silence, but it doesn't take too long to get there.

     Alex helps me out of the car and up the three little stairs that lead to the front door.

     "Do you have a key?" He asks me.

     "Yeah. It's up there," I say, pointing to the top of the door frame. Alex reaches up there and grabs it since I am never able to reach it. He opens the door and helps me inside.

     I am overcome with a feeling that I can't descibe. The house is too quiet. I'm used to Ariel running up and down the stairs without getting tired. I'm used to the sound of Dad making coffee in the kitchen or watching tv in the living room. I miss all of those annoying sounds that used to give me headaches. Now all of those noises would be like music to my ears.

     I am not going to let myself cry in front of Alex, again. I've already done that one too many times. His arm is still on my waist to keep me steady.

     "My room is upstairs," I say through a sigh.

     "You want me to help you walk up there?" Alex asks and I nod.

     "I've got a better idea," he says, lifting me up in his arms like a newly wed couple. He carries me all the way up the stairs and to my bedroom door, where he puts me down. I twist the door knob and I take in the familiar scent of my perfume.

     "You can come in if you want. I have nothing to hide," I tell him and he steps into my room.

     He walks over to my bed and sits on the edge. I go over to my dresser and pick out my favorite pair of cut off blue jean shorts and a baby blue t-shirt with a quote on it: Live. Laugh. Love.

     I look at Alex and he us lying back on my bed, staring up at my poster of my favorite childhood band.

     "You like The Naked Brothers Band?" Alex asks, as if he can read my mind.

     "Yeah. Why?"

     "Oh, I'm just curious."

     "Have you heard if them before?" I ask. It is a stupid question because he is a teenage boy in the twenty first century. Why would he know if they were any good or not?

     "You could say that," he lauged.

     "What's so funny?"

     "Nothing really. I must ask, who was your favorite?"

     I walk over to my bed and climb up to carefully pull my poster down.

     "You're just going to make fun of me," I say and he shakes his head as a response.

     "No. I won't, I promise."

     "Okay," I said, taking a seat next to him on my bed.

     "I've always liked this one," I say, pointing towards the younger brother, "I know I'm seventeen, but I rewatched all of the episodes and that's what helped me get through my mother's death last year. I was all sad and depressed, but I would just press play and this little guy would make me laugh."

     "That's nice. I think he had to be my favorite one, too," Alex said.

     "And now it's like they all fell off the face of the earth. I would give anything just to meet them and see what they've been up to all these years."