The Things We Leave Behind (Chapter Two)

Sucking in my breath I scanned the room: no one moved. No one dared, for if we had the words might've vanished from their place where they hung dry in the air. "Wh-What are you talking about, Luke?" Elle asked frantically.

"I... I don't know..," He said. We could barely make out his slurred, evanesce words.

"Luke if you know what happened you need to tell Detective Presley," I said.

"Wha... Delia, who cares about Presley, you've gotta tell us, man, she was our friend, too!" James yelled. Luke looked guiltily up at us. He shook his head. "Alright... I see how it is then. C'mon, Rach,"

Rachel moved to grab his arm. "James..," She hissed. She gave him a half-shrug-half-eye-roll that suggested he stop in his tracks.

"No, not right now, I've gotta get out of this room, okay? You're either coming with me or you're not but I'm leaving,"

Rachel shook her head, her long brown hair skidding over her shoulders. "Fine," She whispered. "Bye, guys," She stood to follow James.

"Wait, you're not actually leaving are you?" Katelyn rose from her chair, looking scary in her smudged-black makeup. "Our best friend- well, ex-best friend- just died! We're all that we have left... Please," Katelyn begged. "You can't go- we've only just found each other,"

"We'll see you later," Rachel said, rubbing Katelyn's arm. She grabbed James' hand and they strolled out of the room.

Katelyn looked around, shocked and pissed. Elle wasn't paying attention, she was tending to Luke; her huge-doe eyes pinned to him, his argyle sweater and fogged-up glasses. I let out a sigh, realizing that I'd been holding my breath.

The door suddenly burst open. In walked Principal Hall followed by Detective Presley. "Are you all okay? I heard yelling," Presley asked, gesturing with his hand. "Dammit," his eyes had drifted to James and Rachel's now empty chairs. "Watch them, I need to catch up with-"

"Sir," Principal Hall cleared his throat. "It's after hours, the students must have homework. I'm sure we can pick this up tomorrow?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Oh," Presley answered, glancing at his watch. "Yes, of course, I... Thank you for your time." He nodded, and backed out of the room.

For a moment we all glanced around wide eyed. Finally, I sighed. "I should get going," I said. "Homework," I held up my shoulder bag like it was some sort of prize. "I'll... see you all tomorrow,"

I stumbled towards the door, but Luke's voice stopped me: "Delia," His voice cracked. "Guys, can we... go out or something? Just get some food together?"

To all of our surprise, Katelyn laughed: "That sounds really good, actually,"

"Yeah, I think we all need some cheering up," Elle added.

I smiled at them, like the old times. "Pizza Joe's?" I asked.

Luke laughed: a real smile, not any fake giggles. "That sounds... great," He said, standing. He took Elle's hand, and she blushed, looking straight at me.

"Let's go then," I smiled.

On the way we talked.

It was effortless, easy, but drained. We were all well aware of what gad brought us back together, and were equally as aware of the absence of Rebecca. She used to hover over Luke like a fog, jumping on his back and stealing his glasses.

It was apparent, from the way Elle never strayed from his side, that she was really gone.

Katelyn drove to Pizza Joe's and we weren't there long before Rachel showed up, red-faced and breathless. "I'm sorry," She said. "I shouldn't have left, it's just..."

"We were panicking," James said, rounding the corner behind her. "It's crazy to think of us... without..."

"I know," Luke smirked, and James waddled over to hug him. Rachel stepped over them to the seat next to Katelyn, who'd already spilled pizza sauce twice on her brown sweater.

The entire night I couldn't help smiling. We were back! We were together again! I couldn't believe it, everyone was so happy, we even had a few toasts in Rebecca's name- burying our sorrows and worries in the adrenaline high we all got when we were around each other.

It wasn't until the next morning that things got messy again.

The sun rose slowly over the houses outside my window. Rainy Seattle hadn't felt this beautiful in so long: it truly was the end of Spring.

The peace had been short lived; my memory of the day before resurfaced when my phone lit up: LUKE it read.

Groggily, I picked it up. "Hello?" I mumbled.

"Delia?" Luke cried over the receiver.

"Are you okay?" I bolted upright in my bed, almost hitting my head on the wall. "You sound... anxious,"

"Delia, you need to come to my house right now,"

"Luke, what's wrong?"

"I just got an EMAIL from REBECCA. Please, I can't open this alone, I'll call the others just come quick,"

I stumbled to my dresser as soon as he hung up. What the hell was he talking about? The dead can't talk, therefore they certainly can't send emails... Right?

Nothing in my closet seemed to fit the mood of Dead-Best-Friend-Makes-Contact-With-Ex-Boyfriend but I was able to decide on jeans and my Easy Street hoodie. I fumbled in my purse for my car keys and was at Luke's in under fifteen-minutes.

I knocked on the door with shaky hands, and it flung open. Before I could register who had opened the door, hands were around my neck. "DELIA!" Cried a small voice.

"O-Olive!" I stuttered, remembering Luke's younger sister. She was taller now, three years older than when I'd seen her last. The little eight year old I'd known as an eighth grader had changed probably as much as I had.

"What are you doing here? I thought you and my brother weren't friends anymore," She pouted her lips.

"Well, um,-"

"Olive!" Luke called from behind her, his sandy blond hair messy from sleeping. "Go to your room, I need to speak with Delia,"

Olive stood her ground.

"Alone," Luke hissed.

"Ugh!" Olive screamed, "Fine!" She stalked off, but not before turning to make a face at him behind his back.

"So-" Luke's arms were tight around my neck before I could say anything. "Luke..." I didn't know what to say. His shoulders shook silently with tears and it broke my heart- already I cared so much for this group again... Death was a powerful thing, I concluded.

"Delia, I couldn't call the others... It's probably a prank or something but..."

"Luke, I don't blame you for not being able to do this alone," I whispered, kissing his forehead as if he were a child.

"No..." He mumbled into my shoulders. "God, why does she get to me so much?"

"She was amazing," I said, and he cringed. "You have a right to be hurt,"

"I don't wanna be,"

"I know," I whispered softly. "Me neither." A tear dripped again from my own eyes and I swept it away. All at once I felt almost nervous, conservative about my emotions. My face went red and I turned away, adjusting my glasses and running a hand through my short, plain hair.

"Sorry," He mumbled.

"No, no, it's not you..." I strayed off. "I think we need to check out this email," I said, staring at the TV behind him.

A picture of Rebecca flashed on the screen, displaying the words: KIDNAPPING/MURDER VICTEM FROM CALIFORNIA.

The image flashed away and Mrs. Vaughn stood, sobbing next to her husband.

Thankful it was muted, I turned back to Luke. "Now," I said.