Chasing William Read online

  Chasing William

  by Therese McFadden

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2012 Therese McFadden

  IBSN-9781476224527

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Chasing William

  by: Therese McFadden

  To my “William,” gone but never forgotten.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  “Storm clouds are ahead, but every cloud has a silver lining.”

  Have you ever actually sat down to think about fortune cookies? I don’t mean the cookie itself, although I guess you could get into some pretty serious discussions about whether the cookie or the wrapper has more flavor. I’m not sure which one would win. I normally just throw away both. Fortune cookies are kind of like people, in the sense life is like a box of chocolates. “It’s what’s on the inside that counts” to borrow the line my mom always likes to use (one which I’m fairly certain she’s contractually obligated to say through the fine print in her parent contract). This is the truth behind the fortune cookie. To a world that doesn’t know any better, it’s just a foreign little dessert that comes with Chinese food, but to the trained fortune cookie connoisseur it’s much more than that. Fortune cookies are like a box inside a box present; you open the thin cellophane wrapper and think you’ve arrived, but actually, the real present is inside the cookie. It’s a glimpse into your future. Just like when you wish on a shooting star or sprinkle on fairy dust, you have to believe it will come true before it works. Don’t get me wrong: fortune cookies aren’t for wishing on. They won’t make your dreams come true no matter how hard you try. Instead, the fortune gives you a glimpse down your path, tells you what you need to do to make the dream come true, or gives you some advice or foresight about problems in the future. Almost like a detailed and accurate magic 8-ball. Some fortune cookies are better than others, but I’ve seen their magic work enough to know it’s true.

  Chinese food was a thing we shared. We’d discovered the truth of the fortune cookie together after months of experimenting, and then used it to stay together when we had to be apart. I knew well enough to never throw away a fortune, so I collected them in a box on my desk, pulling one out whenever I was looking for an answer to a question I couldn’t solve.

  The fortune cookies stopped talking to me the night he died. I hadn’t even officially found out he was dead when I knew. I just had this feeling. My dad had brought home take-out for dinner and when I opened my fortune cookie the slip of paper inside was blank. My dad said it must have been missed in quality control at the fortune cookie factory (or wherever fortune cookies come into being), but I knew something was wrong. The next morning the cop came to the front door to break the news. Three weeks before I was going to start my senior year of high school the fortune cookie failed me.

  His name was William and he’d been my secret boyfriend. Not so secret at first, but a painful freshman break-up with the “bad boy spiraling out of control” had made any future relationship forbidden. I probably should have listened, but never having taken a risk in my almost-over adolescence left me thinking it was about time. So I followed the magic of the fortune cookie only to find myself at a dead end.

  I wasn’t sure what to tell my parents so I just went to the funeral alone. If there was ever a time to tell the truth about a relationship this was probably it, but it didn’t seem right. I wanted to be a little selfish with my memories of him. Not telling people seemed like one last secret we could share. At least that’s what I told myself to keep away the guilt gnawing at the inside of my stomach. Everyone except William himself would think I was nothing more than that bitch who dumped him freshman year when things started to get bad. He was the only one who could prove it was something more, and without that I’d just look like someone using his death to get attention. I went because I knew it was the last time I’d ever be able to see him. Screw what the other people thought. I was doing it for him.

  I took hours to get ready that morning. I tried five different hairstyles before finding one I thought he’d like the most. I tried on every black dress, skirt, and top combination I had in my closet. Nothing looked good enough. It was the last time we’d ever be together. The last time we’d ever be in the same room together. I had to live up to that. I had to look my best for him. At least that’s what I kept telling myself. It seemed to make things easier somehow. Thinking about the funeral as my last chance to be with him really helped to calm my nerves. It also gave me the courage I needed to go. I wasn’t doing this for anyone else. I wasn’t even doing it for myself. I was doing it because I knew he’d want to see me one last time (at least I hoped he did). I settled on a dress, a hairstyle, and after another hour of decision time, make-up and shoes. I felt like I looked as good as I possibly could. All for him.

  Everyone knew who I was the second I told them my name. I guess I hadn’t been as much of a secret to his people as he’d been to mine. His mom was the nicest. I thought she’d hate me, but she kept giving me hugs and telling me to be strong. It meant a lot to be acknowledged as a real part of his life. At least someone knew what he meant to me. The longer I waited, though, the less possible it seemed for me to tell my people. My parents probably figured it out for themselves, but it was everyone else who wouldn’t understand. I hadn’t told my friends about the secret relationship and letting everything come out at the same time as the news of his death would just make me look like I was starving for attention. I kept hoping someone would ask me about him, but no one else noticed. I told myself all my friends were too busy with family vacations and college visits to notice but eventually someone would come around. It was easier to believe than the truth, that no one cared. It was a harsh reality knowing William was dead but the rest of the world was still turning.

  I’ve spent the last few weeks picking up as many extra hours at work as I can get. I just want to stay busy and out of the house. Whenever my cell phone rings I think it’s him, whenever I get on my computer I check to see if he’s online. Just all of these ridiculous little rituals I realize there’s no point in wasting time with anymore. Of course it’s just the universe’s way of kicking me when I’m down. I can’t even turn to my fortune cookies for help. It’s like the magic
only worked with him. Even though I’ve been trying to stay busy (and this generally keeps me around people in some sense) I’ve never felt more alone. I’m not sure how I’m going to face school tomorrow. I guess I just have to pretend like nothing’s wrong. I should be going back excited about senior year, talking about colleges, and getting ready to leave high school. Excitement doesn’t seem possible. None of it seems all that important now.

  My room has become my sanctuary even more than ever. It’s a safe place to cry without being constantly bothered or hearing my mother whisper “I just don’t know what to do.” Like anyone expects her to be able to fix this. I just want some time to process on my own, to make sense of things, but there’s always someone mouthing “grief counselor” over my head like I don’t know what’s going on. William’s dead and unless all these people with my “best interest at heart” can bring him back I wish they’d shut up and let me grieve.

  The only thing that really seems to help is Facebook. I know how strange that sounds, usually all Facebook is good for is wasting time, but it’s keeping his legacy alive. I can go on his profile and still hear his voice in a bizarre kind of way, and that’s something I wouldn’t give up for the world. All these people have been posting goodbyes on his wall, and I tried to join them, but everything I have to say to him seems too personal to let the rest of the world read. Not to mention I have something new to say to him every day. One goodbye just isn’t enough. Instead I’ve started a new ritual to replace all the ones I lost when he died. Every night I get on Facebook and send him a message about my day or about one more thing I wish I’d said when he was alive. It helps.

  I get ready for bed and look at my packed backpack for awhile. I still don’t know what’s going to happen at school. Everything seems new all of sudden, even things I’ve done every day for years. Like my life started over the day he died. I guess that’s another symptom of grief, how I think about time has changed. Instead of thinking of it as my senior year, I keep thinking of it as the first time I have to go to school after William died. It doesn’t really matter how I think about it in the long run: tomorrow will still be here in a few short hours.

  To: William Davis

  Message: Hey Will! Nothing really exciting happened today. Spent a lot of time missing you. Have to go back to school tomorrow. I’m not really sad about the summer being over. I’m actually looking forward to a change of scenery. I’ve just been overanalyzing what’s going to happen with people. I mean, you not being here anymore is the biggest, most life-changing thing that’s ever happened to me and yet I don’t even feel like I can tell my friends. How do I just act like nothing changed? Everything changed. You always gave me good advice. You were probably better at helping me make decisions about my life than you were at making decisions for yourself. Can you send me a sign about what I’m supposed to do? That’s what ghosts do, right? You send the people you love signs to show them you’re okay and help them get back on the right path. Where’s my sign? Oh well, sign or not, I love you. Miss you too.

  “A journey rarely starts at the beginning.”

  I leave for school early because I’m nervous. It has been awhile since I’ve been around my friends and I’m not sure how it will be now that everything changed. There are a lot of different friend-groups in high school and that’s not even counting the cliques. There are the groups who are only in it for the status, the groups bound together by love of a common sport or hobby, the groups who travel together and will probably be friends forever, and then there are groups like mine. We were substitute people, plain and simple. We’d found each other freshman year because none of us could find a place anywhere else and for awhile that was enough to keep us close. As the semesters went on and the future came to meet us the group started to fracture. We realized there weren’t many common interests, our goals weren’t shared, and when it came to college we would all start to go our separate ways anyway. Staying close didn’t seem important anymore and we’d all drifted into our own worlds over the summer. Still, these were the best friends I had, so I force myself to believe I could trust them with the pain of losing William. I have to believe they’d understand.

  “Crissy!”

  I haven’t even made it to the door and I’m being attacked from behind. It’s always funny how enthusiastic people are on the first day of school. Of course, it’s also nice to know everyone you cared about survived the summer. I wasn’t usually a touchy-feely person, but that was enough to make me want to go around giving hugs.

  “Hey, Mars!” Marissa was by far the happiest of my little group. Sometimes we’d make fun of her for being too naïve or stuck in Neverland where she could never grow up like the rest of us. Looking at her now, genuinely happy to be alive and more excited about the future than anyone I’d ever met, I felt a little jealous. See, another thing William’s death had made me start thinking about was how short life was (and how little I’d done with mine). Say what you will about Mars, you couldn’t say she wasn’t living life. I’d give anything to trade places with her and live in her bubble where the world was good and full of potential.

  “Hooow was your summer?” Mars has a habit of stringing out her vowels when she’s really excited. She grabs my arm and skips me to my locker. I feel a sudden twinge of pain in my heart as I think about what the world would be like without her. I wish I’d taken the time to really get to know her, but any extra time I could’ve spent with my friends would have had to come out of my time with William and I couldn’t imagine giving that up, especially now. Funny how life works sometimes.

  “Alright. Lots of work, saving up for college, you know.” It’s strange how contagious Mars’s energy is. I haven’t felt this happy for weeks. I can tell it’s an artificial boost, though, like a chameleon taking on the characteristics of its surroundings. I know once Mars leaves I’ll go back to feeling miserable. I wish I could be the kind of person she is and I’m almost tempted to follow her around all day just to keep that happy feeling around. “And how was your summer, dear?”

  “Fantastic! I had this internship at a doctor’s office and got to work with all these sick kids.” Mars continues to ramble on about her summer and that good feeling keeps building. She’s just so happy. I used to find that annoying: it was actually the reason I didn’t spend much time with her outside the group. I thought I’d find her exuberance even more frustrating now, and there was a part of me that had trouble understanding how she could be so happy when my world was falling apart. More than being upset by it though, I just want to soak in as much as I could. She isn’t being happy for my benefit or trying to cheer me up. She’s just naturally happy and that’s something I could use more of in my life.

  “That sounds perfect for you, Mars!” Now, as grateful as I am for a little of Mars’s extra happiness it’s still hard to keep up with everything she’s saying and I really only catch one in every ten words.

  “It was just so great! I can’t wait to do this for the rest of my life!” That was another thing about Mars: she knew what she wanted to do with her life. She’d had her top five schools picked out freshman year and every one of them would probably fight over her. I’m jealous of that too. It was hard enough trying to figure out what I wanted to do when things seemed normal. Having to deal with that and losing William was a lot to swallow. I’m trying to just push college out of my mind. It’s not the best strategy, but it works for now.

  “You’re so lucky you know what you want to do…” I stop as the bell rings and Mars skips off to class.

  “Hey, why weren’t you at Amanda’s this weekend? We all missed you!” Mars calls over her shoulder.

  I don’t know anything about a thing at Amanda’s place. Every year our friend Amanda has the group over for an end-of-summer party. I hadn’t heard from her this year. I thought she was too busy to have anything. Maybe I’d just misheard. Guess I’ll figure it all out at lunch. Everything usually gets resolved at lunch. That’s like, the high school code.

  I
have to say that very few classes seem important to me now that William is dead. It makes more sense that we should all be out doing something we love instead of learning about things that really don’t help us live life. I’ve always liked English though. I know there are plenty of people who’d consider it one of those useless classes, but it makes sense to me. All these authors wanted to do was create a place for people to escape to, and probably escape themselves. I can see how having a place to escape to might come in handy out in the real world. I could use one. That’s why I’ve been spending so much time reading. It keeps my mind from thinking about William. English makes sense to me. I can hide behind it. Maybe I’ll go to school for English. I’m not sure what I’d do though. You can’t exactly get a job in escapism and I’m not sure I’d be a great teacher. My English teacher, Miss R., she’s great. You can tell she wants all her students to succeed, she doesn’t have favorites or people she hates, and the classroom is fair. I don’t think I’d be able to do that. There are people I’m not sure I’d be able to stand.

  I see Amanda sitting over to the side so I go over to join her. I’m not sure I really want to sit by her but I feel obligated. It’s weird how you always feel like you have to sit by someone in your “group”. I hate sitting off to the side, especially in Miss R.’s room because there are only three desks over there and whoever sits in them sticks out. I’d rather sit in the center of the classroom with everyone else. It’s not that I really want to hide. It just makes class easier when I don’t feel like everyone is staring at me. Some people are front row people, like Amanda. They like to be singled out and want to share their opinions as often as possible. I’m one of those people who’d rather sit in the second row. I pay attention, but I only talk when I have something to say. I’m not too crazy about always being in the line of fire. I sit by Amanda anyway. It’s like the unspoken rule of high school: you sit by who you know.