Chasing Shadows

02 Reality Bites

A L E C 

Watching Reagan slip out of my window, I frowned. I hated that she was going back home to that. To turmoil. To all the anger and all that screaming. No one should have to go home to that. That morning, just after the sun came up, my family could hear the arguments in the house next door, loud and mean and just plain ridiculous. Honestly, it baffled me that her parents had lasted for that long, the way they talked to each other. They threw around words like asshole and bitch, and one time I even heard Mr. Bell use the C-word. I couldn't bring myself to say it, not even at my angriest. I couldn't imagine talking that way to someone I loved. I couldn't imagine talking that way to anyone, really.

When Reagan and I met, things weren't that way with her parents at all. They actually seemed to really care about each other. And you could tell. They laughed and had backyard barbecues where they held hands and played games together. They were fun to be around, and Reagan smiled a lot more back then. I remember the day that her family moved in. I had been born here in good old Seaside Falls, North Carolina. But Reagan moved from New York. Her mom was a hot-shot lawyer, her dad worked for the Navy, and altogether, they seemed like the perfect family when they moved here.

It was the very end of August. I was seven, getting ready to start second grade. Back then, all I ever did was play outside. So I was out in my front yard when I saw the moving truck pull into the driveway of the house next door. First, a tall man with an austere expression got out, followed by a beautiful woman. Her mom had thick, wavy hair, and big brown eyes. Features she shared with Reagan. I saw Reagan last, and I panicked. Obviously, a cootie ridden girl was moving in next door. This was a violation of everything my seven-year-old self stood for. Girls were enemies, not friends.

My mom forced me to go over and "make friends." And surprisingly, I did. Reagan was happy and outgoing and brave, and adventurous. She was everything you would want in a best friend. Reagan laughed easily in those days and always made up the best games. Even when it rained and we were confined to the indoors, she made things fun. But as the years passed, the house next door got louder. And Reagan got quieter. She smiled less, talked less, joked less. Some of her light started to fade. And though I tried to keep her happy, it wasn't always easy.

I shook my head, trying not to think too much about Reagan. It upset me. I didn't like knowing that the person I cared for most in the world was suffering and that there was really nothing I could do to help her.

Sighing, I turned off my game console and flopped back onto my bed. The ceiling fan was on full-speed and sent a cool breeze down onto my face. Besides the whirring of the fan, the house was quiet. My parents both worked during the day, so usually, it was just me and my little sister, Helen. Who suddenly began pounding on my bedroom door.

"What do you want?" I called.

"Can I come in?" She kept pounding against the door.

"Why?"

"I'm bored."

"No, go away."

"I have nachos."

I sighed. She was a smart kid. Helen knew all my weaknesses.

"Fine, come in," I grumbled. She opened the door and waltzed in happily, a plate of nachos in her hand. They weren't exactly gourmet, they just a pile of tortilla chips with a slice of Kraft cheese melted onto them, but they were food, and I was hungry. Helen planted herself onto my bed and put the plate down before frowning. She sniffed the air, her eyes narrowing.

"Was Reagan here?" She asked suspiciously. I shook my head; the kid was worse than a bloodhound.

"She might have been." I picked up a handful of chips and stuffed them into my mouth. "Wha's eh maffer?" I said around the mouthful of chips.