Strictly Forbidden (Student/teacher relationship)

Chapter Twenty: Nine Years

"Not here!"

"Here either!"

"Where the hell is she Greg?" I asked, running my fingers through my hair.

He placed his hand on my shoulder, "I don't know man, she'll pop up soon I know she will."

"It's been almost a week and a half." I reminded them.

"Luna's gone on longer pauses then this."

"Pauses?" I asked with confusion evident in my voice.

"She does this thing. She's done it since she was six- or well as long as I've known her- whenever she needs a cooling off period she goes off the grid for weeks- months even. She always comes back man, give her time." He explained.

"I'm worried though." I told him.

"We all are."

"Hey guys?" Larson called from the bathroom of Luna's motel room.

"Yeah?" We responded, turning around.

"What's the date?"

"What?" Greg And I asked.

"The date- like, the day it is?"

"What the hell does that have to do with anything Larson?" Greg asked.

"Nine Years Greg." He said softly.

"Oh..."

"Nine years? What does that mean?" I asked them growing impatient.

"Danny check your phone, what's the date?"

I pulled out my phone, "April fifth. Why?"

"Nine years." They both whispered.

"I know where she's at." Larson said, grabbing his jacket from the bed.

We got in my car while Larson drove and it wasn't a far drive. We passed a few old abandoned gas stations until we came across a raggedy looking bus stop and a giant cemetery behind it.

"What are we doing here?"

"Come on." Larson directed.

We all hopped out the car and walked over to the bus stop.

Larson peeked his head inside the small plastic wall they had with advertisements that now have graffiti all over them.

"There's a ninth tally mark she's gotta be here." He mumbled.

We started walking towards the cemetery and this was indeed a long, long walk. We finally made it to the back and the beginning of the R's.

"Shit." Greg mumbled.

"What?" I asked, walking over to the gravestone he was huddled over.

"She's been here already." He whispered.

"Alondra Santiago-Ramirez." I mumbled to myself.

"Her mother." Larson whispered from behind me.

Oh.

I finally got it.

Nine years since they died.

"How do you know she's been here already?" I asked.

"See the tally marks in the dirt here?" He asked, pointing to a row of lines marked in the dirt.

"Yeah."

Larson came up next to him, "See these nine roses?"

I nodded.

"She does it every year. We can't stop her." They whispered.