Mezzanine

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Carter and I hung out for another hour or two playing video games. Eventually, we got bored and started scrolling through his phone, mostly watching videos of dogs doing stupid shit and people making weird food on social media.

It was around four in the afternoon when I finally decided it was time to head home and deal with my problems. I was a protégé of procrastination, so I managed to spend most of the afternoon avoiding my messages.

Instead, I sat cross legged on the floor of my room working on my painting. The deep black shading highlighted with hues of bright red captured the emotions I was going for perfectly. Usually, I only painted in black and white, but with this painting, I needed more.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed, stirring me from my trance. My heart thudded in my chest, and my hands slicked with sweat. I couldn't put it off any longer.

After setting down my paintbrush, with a shaking hand, I picked up my phone. "Shit," I muttered under my breath, the clock catching my eyes. How was it already ten at night?

My gaze went to the push notification next. It was a text message from the same number I'd been avoiding all day—Lola.

Fine, ignore me, jackass. I'll just talk to you at school tomorrow.

I bit down on my lower lip. I couldn't blame her for being angry. She was actually being pretty tame. I would have given myself some more choice insults than jackass.

I opened the messages and scrolled to the beginning of the one-sided conversation. I could ignore them all I wanted, but it wouldn't change that they were there. I was only fueling my anxiety by avoiding her.

9:07 a.m.: Hey Jay, it's Lola. I'm sorry about what happened last night. It was scary for all of us, and the last thing you needed was me pushing you to talk about something like that. I feel bad about how I acted. Are you okay?

9:15 a.m.: Also, you left your jacket in my car. I can swing by after dance class and get it back to you, and we can talk if you want. I can bring coffee. :)

I pushed my tangled hair out of my eyes. That was not what I was expecting. I thought she would be mad at me. Why was she being so nice? And what had she even done to feel bad about?

I continued reading the messages.

10:34 a.m.: Just finished dance. Are you okay? Can you please message me back?

12:45 p.m.: I get that you don't want to talk to me right now, but I really need to talk to you.

3:47 p.m.: Look, this is important. It's about what you told me last night. About your brother. I think I figured something out.

I paused for a second. What did she mean? What had she figured out about my brother? Was it something to do with the Ouija board he made? Maybe she'd come to the same conclusion Carter and I had about the symbols.

But she said about my brother, not about the board. Was there something more? Something I was missing?

6:04 p.m.: I really need to talk to you. Please answer!

6:06 p.m.: And I checked with Carter, so I know this is really your number.

And that led me up to the most recent message:

10:05 p.m.: Fine, ignore me, jackass. I'll just talk to you at school tomorrow.

Yup, I definitely deserved an insult worse than jackass.