3. UPSETS

After I finished balling, I just sat there on my bed thinking of Ryan and how furious I’d become at him for not being there for me. I also thought of tonight—Ryan said he was coming back to further the transformation. But he didn’t say when he was coming. Maybe I would wake up when he came. But I hadn’t woken up the past two nights. I really wanted to see him, though. I knew he wouldn’t approve, but I had to wait up for him. I had to talk to him. Or, I had to at least see him.

I glanced at my bedside clock. It read 6:32. I sighed. I would probably have to at least wait until midnight, maybe later.

I thought of what I could do to pass the time. I decided I’d go to sleep now, set my alarm for ten o’clock, which was when I usually went to bed, then do something to keep myself awake until Ryan came at whatever time he did.

I changed into a different pair of pajamas (I still had my ones from last night on) and got into bed. I lied there thinking for a while of what I would say and do when Ryan finally showed up. I also thought about what he would say and do. I was a little afraid he would get angry with me, but I had to risk it. If I did not see him again tonight, I didn’t know when I’d see him again. Or if I’d ever see him aga—

Beep. Beep. Beep-beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep-beep-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEE—

My hand came down on my alarm. 10:00.

I did not want to fall back asleep, so I got out of bed, went into the bathroom, and splashed my face with cold water. Then I went back in my room, jumped around a bit, opened the window to let some freezing air in, and finally sat on the edge of my bed to think.

What am I going to do? I thought. The book we were reading in English wasn’t particularly exciting, so I knew I’d fall asleep again if I tried to read. Hmmm. Honestly, I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to do at the moment that didn’t involve Ryan.

All of a sudden, a gust of freezing night wind blew through my open window. I shivered. Then a thought came to me.

I wrote on a piece of paper:

Dad,

Couldn’t sleep. Went for a walk. Be back soon.

-Emma

I put the note on my bed, just in case my dad decided to check on me. Then I got dressed and quietly snuck down the stairs. Thank goodness I had left my snow boots out by the door; rattling around in the closet would run the risk of waking my dad up. Although, he was usually a heavy sleeper.

After I put on my boots, I grabbed my car keys, unlocked the door and snuck outside, quickly closing it behind me.

Luckily, it wasn’t very windy out-just a small breeze here and there. And it wasn’t snowing. That was always a plus.

I jogged down the driveway to my car and unlocked it. I pulled my heavy winter coat out of the backseat. Just because it wasn’t windy, didn’t mean it wasn’t cold.

I had to walk in the street because not everyone had shoveled their sidewalks yet. I let the streetlamps guide me to my destination.

It was only about a ten minute walk to get where I was going—the old theater. The Gunnison Theater of Performing Arts had been the highlight of the city for years. That was pretty much all there was to do—act in plays, or watch people act in plays. I never acted in any (I never did well in front of crowds) but I loved to watch plays. There would be several different plays and musicals every year, and I’d see them all.

Two years ago, when Gunnison built a new theater, the old one was just kind of abandoned. The city council spent enough money building a new theater; they didn’t have enough money to tear down the old one. So they just left it there. It’s all boarded up so homeless people or drug dealers can’t live there or anything, but I know a way in. And I use it to my advantage…

One day, about six months after the old theater was condemned, I was taking a walk (as usual) and I happened to go past it. I heard a noise around the back—a scurrying and then a crash—so I decided to go check it out. When I got back there, I saw that one of the boards blocking a broken window had been torn off. By who, I hadn’t a clue. But my curiosity got the better of me (just like it usually did) and I crawled through the opening. I stepped into the main hallway leading to the auditorium. It had been mid-afternoon, so several strands of sunlight were bursting through cracks in the poorly aligned window boards. I wandered into the auditorium. It was pitch black. I felt around on the walls near the door for a light switch. I eventually found one in a little box with an adjuster for the degree of light next to it. I pressed it and every one of the antique, ornate wall fixtures burst into light. All of a sudden, I’d heard a seat squeak up and a scuffling noise. I’d turned in circles looking for the source of the noise. It was obviously the person who had broken the board to begin with, but I didn’t know who that person was. I’d decided not to take a chance and left. After all, it could’ve been a drug dealer, or robber, or something like that. Even though I’d had a feeling it wasn’t. But I hadn’t had to worry about it—I never encountered the stranger again…

I was at the back of the building now. I crawled through the opening, into the main hallway. I walked down the hallway, taking my time. When I opened the doors to the auditorium, I heard a chair creak up and then a shuffling noise. It was just like the first time. Then all was quiet. I pressed the light button and the auditorium was once again illuminated. Instead of calling out to the person, I decided to just sit down and go about my business. I figured they’d leave, since they obviously wanted to be alone, and now they weren’t. I sat in one of the chairs in the middle of the auditorium, directly in front of the center of the stage. I put my feet up on the chair in front of me and leaned my head back. I just needed to relax and think.

I barely had time to start into one of my fantasies before I was startled by a voice behind me.

“Emma? Is that you?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin at his question. I got up and turned around to face the person who called me.

“Ryan, what are you doing here?” I asked.

“I could ask you the same question,” he countered.

“I just had to clear my head, so I went for a walk,” I explained.

“I figured it was something cavalier like that.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean, you shouldn’t be walking around and going into abandoned theaters this late at night. Do you have any idea what kinds of freaks are prowling around in dark corners at 10:15 at night?”

“The mysterious, blood-sucking kind?” I answered.

Ryan opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. I raised an eyebrow, daring him to challenge me.

“I’ll take you home,” he said abruptly, changing the subject.

“No thanks, I think I’ll stay here. But you’re welcome to leave.”

“I won’t leave you alone.” He started walking toward me. He reached out to grab my arm. I jerked it away.

“Don’t touch me.” I ordered at him. I was still extremely angry at him for not being there for me earlier.

“What?” he whispered, sounding defeated.

“You heard me,” I whispered back.

“Emma, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I snapped.

“Yes there is,” he argued. “You can trust me. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“No. And obviously I can’t trust you.”

“Why not? What happened?”

“Like you don’t know!” I hollered at him, my emotions bubbling up. I started quickly walking away from him, toward the stage.

“Emma,” he began.

I turned around to face him, a cold, angry accusation on my face.

“Oh, Emma,” he said delicately, but with a hint of scorn, after realizing why I was upset. I continued to stare at him. I thought the force of my anger and abandonment should literally be able to burn him.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No you’re not. You don’t care. Because if you cared, you would’ve been there for me. You would’ve held me and soothed me and told me everything was going to be alright. But you weren’t. You weren’t there, when I needed you.” I was sobbing by now.

“You know I couldn’t have come to you.”

“Why not?!” I shouted over my tears.

“Because!” he shouted back. “You know the rules! We cannot be together!”

“The hell with the rules! We’ve already broken them, what’s the point in continuing to abide by them?! It’s too late! And this is different. This isn’t supposed to be happening yet, remember? The no-contact rule can’t apply! I need you, Ryan!”

He looked at me with a pained look on his face.

“Please be there for me,” I begged.

He looked away, biting his lip. “You know I can’t be.”

“WHY NOT?!” I hollered. I was so furious at him, I wasn’t even crying anymore. He was being unnecessarily stubborn.

He swung his head back around to face me, then closed the distance between us in two quick strides. He got right up in my face and shouted, “YOU KNOW WHY, EMMA!!”

I stumbled backwards, smacking into the stage.

Ryan continued to yell at me. “WE CAN’T RUN THE RISK OF EITHER OF US BECOMING TOO ATTACHED! IT’S NOT HOW IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE! THE CONNECTION IS TOO STRONG! EMMA, YOUHAVE TO UNDERSTAND THAT! PLEASE!”

I turned my head away from him, into my shoulder. My eyes stung with the tears that were about to overflow. I squeezed them shut as hard as I could to stop myself from crying. But one, lonely, salty drop escaped anyway. I could hear Ryan’s fast, hard breathing. And I could feel it on my cheek. He was still as close to me as he was before, only he’d stopped yelling.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. I turned my head back around to face him. He looked at me apologetically. I saw his arms twitch slightly upwards, but he must have thought better of it because he just let them fall back down to his sides. I wanted so badly for him to hold me—just to touch me, even. I knew it was an irrational desire, but all the same, couldn’t help myself from wanting it. He dropped his gaze to the floor, sighed, then switched his gaze to the ceiling and sighed again. I just continued to watch him, pain-stricken. There was no noise except for our breathing and the pounding of my pulse behind my ears.

Finally, Ryan looked back at me—he stared at my forehead, careful not to make eye contact—and said softly, “Come on, Emma. Let’s go home.”

So we walked side by side out of the auditorium. Ryan shut off the lights and we walked down the long hallway together, finally coming to the broken board. He ushered me out first, then followed close behind me. We walked in silence back to my house, not once making eye contact or coming less than ten inches from each other.

When we got to my front door, he finally looked me in the eye and said, “Try to get some sleep. You know I’ll be back later, but you’ll be sleeping, so it won’t matter. Tonight’s the third night of transformation. Expect more purging tomorrow. You know I won’t be able to be there for you. Remember to hide it. Be well.” And with that, he was off. I watched him walk down the street for a way, then I blinked and he was gone.

When I got inside, I pulled off my snow boots and hung up my jacket. I snuck quietly back up to my room and undressed in the dark—after closing my window and pulling the curtains. As I lied in my bed, I thought about whether or not I should still wait up for Ryan. I’d pretty much said all I’d wanted to say at the theater, so I didn’t see much purpose in it. And, honestly, I didn’t have the energy—mentally or physically.

I lied there going over our fight once more in my mind. I wondered if things would ever be the same. If he would ever look at me the same, if he would ever touch me, hold me, or comfort me again. I wished I could at least see his face one more time before he had to be out of my life for good.

A lone tear slid down my cheek as I painfully realized the unlikeliness of my wish ever coming true.