b r i g h t o n *
"Hey, Brighton." Drew's voice says as it comes through the speaker on my cell phone. "I'm coming over, and I hope that's okay. We need to talk. I'll be there as soon as I can. Bye."
He doesn't give me the chance to say anything. I feel anxiety plummet from the sky and onto me; what's wrong?
"Brighton, honey, Drew is here!" Mom calls up the stairs. "I'm sending him upstairs!"
"Okay! Thanks, Mom!" I call back.
A few seconds later, Drew is opening and closing my bedroom door, walking in and sitting on the bed. He looks scared...distraught.
"What's wrong?" I ask him, touching his shoulder.
He looks at me. "Brighton," he begins, a quiver in his voice. "Don't freak out, okay?"
"Oh no, things that start with that are never good..."
"Brighton, everything is okay! It's going to be fine, alright?"
He looks down and finds my hand, taking it into his. I look down, at our hands.
"I'm getting deported," he says simply, looking into my eyes.
"What?!" I say. "You're not even--"
"I am," he says softly. "My father signed me up and didn't tell me."
"What?! No, he can't do that! Can't you back out?!"
"I'm trying, Brighton. Mom, Uncle Bryan, Aunt Carrie, and I are trying, but we don't think it's possible."
"No, Drew, you--you can't. You can't go. You can't leave me!"
"I don't want to, Brighton, but I've got to! I don't think I can get out of this."
"No, Drew--"
He puts a finger against my lips. "Ssh, Brighton..." he whispers. "I'm so sorry,"
He gets off of my bed and walks out of my room. A few seconds later, I hear the front door shut. I fall over onto my side and start to sob. A little later, I feel Mom's comforting arms around me, whispering that it's going to be okay.
"Did you know?" I ask her, trying to take deep breaths.
"Yes, honey, I'm sorry, I just found out a few minutes before you did," she says, stroking my forehead. "Natalie (his mom) called me and told me that he was coming over to tell you."
I sob harder into her chest.
It's been three days.
I haven't heard from Drew.
I've texted him, called him, Facebook messaged him, Instagram DM'ed him, Snapped him, and even emailed him. He hasn't replied to anything. He left me on 'read' on Facebook, Instagram, and Messages; he left me on 'open' on Snapchat. I called his house; I've talked to his family. They all tell me that he's absolutely torn up, but he hasn't said anything to me. I'm not even sure when--if he is-- supposed to leave. He avoids me--both in real life and on social media.
It's been three weeks.
"Get ready, Brighton," Mom says, popping her head into my room.
"Why?" I ask her, looking up from a photo album with photos of me and Drew from our Kindergarten year to last month. "Where are we going?"
"Just get dressed, Brighton. We've got some things that we need to do. Dress nice, sweetheart,"
"Mom, I--"
The door closes before I can say anything else. I throw the picture album aside, and get off the bed, going to my closet. I choose a light-blue plaid short-sleeve button-up shirt and khakis (what are you wearing, 'Jake' from State Farm?), pairing them with my Black hightop Converses. I dress quickly and take the stairs two at a time. No one else in my family except for Mom is ready.
"Aren't they going?" I ask Mom, pointing to my brothers, sister, and Dad.
"No, sweetheart," Mom says.
I'm confused as we drive down the road, but mom refuses to answer any of my questions about where we're going.
Mom pulls the mini-van into a parking lot, where there are a bunch of other cars. We've parked in front of a building that looks like an activity building. Mom and I get out.
"Mom, what's--" I start, but she turns to me.
"It's all going to make sense in a few minutes, okay?" she says. She grabs my hand and squeezes it. Did someone die? Are we at a funeral? When we walk into the building, there are a bunch of people, mostly around my age or a little bit older standing with their families. I don't know where we're going, but Mom seems to know. I follow her and she guides us through the crowd. We stop in front of Drew and his family.
Drew offers me a small smile.
"That's it?!" I snap. "Nothing for THREE WEEKS and all you want to do is smile?!"
His mouth opens and closes as he tries to stammer a reply.
I whirl around on my heels, fighting my way through the crowd and out of the building. I hear Drew and Mom calling my name, but I don't stop. I keep pushing through the people until I reach the door.
