Mess To Be Made

57

"Smile, Allie."

            Smile.

            Like that was easy.

            It should be. It should be easy to smile, as I stood there surrounded by my closest friends, in the midst of a milestone that I was supposed to look back on, reminisce on, for the rest of my life.

            Smile.

            That single word was like a slap in the face. Like I had a choice. As if I hadn't spent the last nine days swinging on a pendulum, back and forth between complete numbness and uncontrollable emotions.

            As if I hadn't watched HJM3579 leave my sight, only for a cop car to enter it a few minutes later. As if I hadn't hysterically recited the license plate number to the cop, explaining every detail I knew as best I could, begging him to just help.

            As if I hadn't sobbed in Sean's arms when he pulled up soon after, explaining to me that he was so concerned he called the cops, even before I asked him to.

            As if I hadn't driven to the hotel Tris worked at, only to scream at him for allowing any of this happen and be escorted out by security. 

            As if I hadn't spent my entire Sunday—from 5 in the morning all the way into the early morning hours of Monday—staring out my window. Watching the street below. Waiting.

            "I'll be back Sunday."

            But Sunday came. And left.

            So did Monday.

            And Tuesday.

            And Wednesday. And Thursday. And Friday.

            Every day came.

            Tyler never did.

            Smile.

            As if I hadn't spent every waking second of the past week wondering where he was and if he was okay. Imagining the worst scenario, yet still stupidly holding onto some positive outcome. Like maybe, just maybe, this was all just a misunderstanding.

            And then, the anger.

            As if I hadn't spent the past week so consumed by him that it enraged me, to a point that I threw my phone against my wall through blurry tears. Pushed Cory away when he tried to hug me. Yelled at Lindsay when she attempted to comfort me. 

            Right. Smile, Allie.

            It should've been so easy. Wearing a dress that hugged my every curve and landed just above my ankles to show off the nude heels slipped on my feet. A deep Mediterranean blue that matched my eyes and highlighted my golden hair, lightly curled and pulled up in a loose ponytail, with wisps hanging around my face—framing my cheekbones while hiding the puffy corners of my eyes.

            "You okay?" Cory's voice echoed in my ear as I was blinded by another flash of light. Another picture being taken. Another moment captured that I was supposed to look back on with fondness.

            Ha.

            "Yep," I managed to reply to him. He caught my tone, his hands tightening around my waist in response as he pulled my back deeper into his chest. A small gesture of comfort.

            "They're almost done," he murmured.

            A truth and a lie. They were almost done with photos. But the night was far from over... the worst hadn't even started yet.