Face the Music by Stephanie Jean

Author:Stephanie Jean [Jean, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Birdcage Ink
Published: 2024-03-21T00:00:00+00:00

18 – Eric – Then

It was the fourth day of the festival, and I was anxious to see Connie. We didn’t get to see each other at all yesterday, since we were each busy with our own workshops, but today, today was going to be a full day of hanging out.

We had been hanging out at Chris’ house with a bunch of people from the festival—not quite a party, but I don’t know what else to call it. I had noticed she was withdrawn throughout the day, and honestly, I couldn’t figure out why, so I asked Lilli if something had happened.

“No, Connie just has low days sometimes. I never really know how to navigate them, but she wants to be alone during them, so I let her be,” she said.

I heard her say that Connie wanted to be alone, and I thought about listening to her advice, but I couldn’t keep myself from looking for her. I think it was unintentional, as in I never made the decision to find her. I just wandered throughout the house, subconsciously methodical in the way I started on one side of the house to the other.

Connie was nowhere inside, nor out in the backyard. I looked up at the sky growing more and more brownish gray, and I went to text her, but my phone was dead. There was a park across the street, and I finally saw her in a swing through the front window.

I didn’t think twice. She seemed dimmer somehow. Maybe it was the slump in her shoulders, the way her spine curved as she lazily pushed herself back and forth in the swing. She looked defeated. My shoes made a crunching noise as I walked over to her on the wood chips, and her head snapped up before her eyes locked on mine. Recognition was the closest thing to a spark in her normally-bright eyes. I didn’t know what it meant, but it scared me. I wanted to make it better, whatever it was.

“There you are!” I said, trying to brighten her spirits. She managed a small smile, and I took the victory. I sat next to her on an open swing facing the opposite direction. “Are you doing okay?”

She looked at her shoes, the toes buried in the wood chips before she shrugged and pushed the swing gently. “Yeah, I don’t know. I’m just… in my own head, I guess.”

Connie’s voice sounded dry and small, as if she hadn’t really spoken yet today. She was closed up, like a barricade holding back an onslaught of soldiers.

“Talk to me, Connie.”

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