Never Forgotten

by Kelly Risser

  ***

  I didn’t mean to let the door bang into the wall when I came in. I was so angry. Why wouldn’t my parents talk to me? How awful was this big secret? What could my father be? Was he an alien? I couldn’t imagine any other kind of non-human being. Werewolves and vampires didn’t exist, and nor did mermaids or pixies. Evan had to be right. It had to be a figure of speech. I could agree with that. He was an inhuman jerk for leaving us.

  I ran down the hall, kicked off my shoes, and flopped on my bed. I heard pans rattling in the kitchen as I passed. I didn’t stop to talk to my grandmother. I was feeling sorry for myself. Today, misery did not want company.

  I put my hands behind my head and stared at the ceiling, not thinking about anything in particular. Eventually, my eyes wandered to the pictures on my dresser. I rose, grabbed the frame, and went back to the bed. I stared at my parents and Evan’s parents. They all looked so happy. My mom was so pretty, and David was good looking. They made a nice couple. What happened? What was the reason why he couldn’t stay?

  My phone rang. I didn’t feel like talking. Kim’s name appeared on the display. I missed her. We’d been exchanging texts and emails, but we hadn’t talked in weeks. She was busy having fun, and I was busy…well, busy.

  “Hi Kim,” I said. I tried to keep my voice cheerful so she wouldn’t hear how I felt. I shouldn’t have bothered—she was crying.

  “H-he, he dumped me,” she managed to get out between her sobs. I didn’t have to ask who she was talking about. I’d hoped they would break up, because I figured Mike was cheating on her anyway. I didn’t like to see her sad.

  “What happened?” I asked her.

  “He left me for Sally Paulson.”

  I knew Sally. She was rich—beautiful and a cheerleader—not nice though. When we were in eighth grade and she was in seventh, she got in trouble for bullying another girl. I was sure that Sally was making the breakup even harder on Kim, and I wished that I could be there to help her through it.

  “I’m sorry, Kim,” I said. “Mike’s totally slumming it.”

  “No kidding,” Kim said. “I think she got a boob job over the summer. That’s totally got to be it.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” I said, although I didn’t think so. It wouldn’t surprise me if Mike had been seeing Sally on the side for a while, at least for the past summer while Kim was gone. I couldn’t tell her that.

  “You’re terrible at emailing.” She sniffed, but the drama was over. That was the great thing about Kim. She vented and moved on. I didn’t answer her; I knew she was right. I wasn’t one for including a lot of details. “So, spill, Quinn. What’s going on in your life?”

  “Besides what I sent you in my last email?” I asked sweetly. She snorted in reply, and I laughed. “What would you like to know?”

  “Come on, Meara! Do I have to beg? Dish on that hot boyfriend of yours. You’re together, right?”

  “Right.” I recounted almost the entire last month. By the time I was done, Kim sounded happier. And, she perked up considerably when she told me she had a date tonight. I was happy that she wasn’t going to be sitting home and moping.

  “So….” Kim said. “I have news.”

  “Besides your date?”

  “Better than my date.”

  I waited, but she didn’t say anything. “Well?” I asked.

  “I’m coming to see you!” she squealed.

  “What? When?” I asked.

  “The second weekend in October. I’m flying in on Friday,” she said. “We don’t have school that day, so my parents said okay. I called your mom, and she helped me arrange everything. I was going to surprise you, but I—”

  “Can’t keep a secret,” we said at the same time, and then laughed.

  “That’s the best news,” I told her. “I wonder if Mom will let me skip out of school early on Friday?”

  “Uh huh,” Kim said. “That’s what she told me.”

  “Sweet!” I’d be able to meet her at the airport. “How long can you stay?”

  “That’s the best part,” Kim said. “My parents are letting me skip two days of school. My flight home isn’t until Tuesday.”

  “Then you get to celebrate Thanksgiving with us,” I said.

  “I’m coming in Oct-o-ber…”

  “I know. Canadians celebrate Thanksgiving in October.”

  “That’s weird,” Kim said. “Do they eat a big turkey dinner with the fixings?”

  “I think so.”

  “I’m good with that. I get to have Thanksgiving twice this year then.”

  “Lucky you,” I told her. Kim promised to email me her flight information, and after I helped her decide between a blue sweater and purple blouse for tonight’s date—which was not easy to determine over the phone—we said goodbye so she could get ready.

  I flopped back down on my bed, considerably happier. My best friend was coming to visit!