Annaka

was really concerned with the mannequin’s well-being, or she just really didn’t care about my “art project” because she added, “Tia was wondering where you went this afternoon. Did you get her text?”
“Oh. Yeah. I got it. I just felt sick. Had to leave, and—”
“And go bully the mannequins at Wade’s Clothing?” She waved her arms.
“Yeah, and go bully the mannequins at Wade’s Clothing….” I sighed.
I wondered when this would get back to Tia. I knew it would, but this was about Clay. I loved Tia, but the last thing I needed was her looking over my shoulder. Holy shit, this was going to be awkward to explain.
“Well, since I’m working I’ll give you the twenty percent discount I can give to pals,” Taylor said. “As long as you don’t bother any more of these guys, okay?” she grinned.
“Woah, seriously?” I raised my eyebrows. “Thanks, Taylor! I appreciate that a lot.”
“No worries.” She smiled. “If anyone deserves support right now, it’s you.” She took the dress shirt off the mannequin, and headed for the cash.
Okay, forty dollars wasn’t bad.
Once I got back to the truck I threw the bag of clothes on the passenger seat and hoped Tia wouldn’t find out I had skipped class to buy men’s clothes.
Later that evening, I sat near the firepit in the backyard. It had been a while since I heard the crackling of wood and the warmth of flames, so I grabbed some kindling and started a small fire. I could hear crickets in the distance and I let my lungs fill with the smoke.
I looked in the journal again and skipped past all of my entries to the back, with the older parts that were Grampy’s. That’s when I noticed there were pages missing. The jagged edges meant they had been torn out, which was weird. Other pages were filled with cursive. I set the book down for a minute and made sure the fire was secure. I walked the short distance to the lake, my mind drifting to Clay.
Clay could recreate whatever was written inside the journal. Maybe that meant he could recreate what Grampy wrote about, too? I hadn’t tried speaking to Clay in two weeks, so I wasn’t even sure if he still liked me after I let him down big time. I hoped that getting him a new wardrobe would at least be a start.
I skipped a rock and thought about Halifax. I remember at some point I had been sure all the magic had left my heart. I think living in the city surrounded by loud cars, obnoxious people, and light pollution makes you forget there’s a whole galaxy above our heads. And it was moments like this—far away from the rest of the world, skipping rocks across water, near crackling flames, with constellations stretching across a dark blue sky—that made me realize the magic never left. I did.
I knew that the only way to make sense of any of this was to dig into it. So I bit my lip and said, “Hey, Clay?”
Nothing.
“Hey, dude. Um, it’s been a couple of weeks. Are you still upset?”
Of course he’s upset, I thought. He has every reason to be. There would be no moving forward in this friendship until Clay and I found some common ground. It was going to be long and difficult, but it had to be done.
“Come on, you gotta give me something. I know you still care, Clay. If you didn’t care then you wouldn’t have taken me back to that memory in the park. If you didn’t care then you wouldn’t have given me the journal to take care of.”
I took a breath and looked across the lake. I was bad at this. But I knew it was necessary.
“There’s so many things I want to say to you, but you know as well as I do that words aren’t always my strong suit. Please, come here.”
“I’m not your pet.” He revealed himself behind me. I jumped, but caught my balance.
“I know,” I said.
“So, what? You think I’m just your genie in a bottle? An imaginary friend in your journal? That isn’t how this works, Anna.”
“Well you’re not explaining it well.”
“Let’s make one thing clear: I don’t owe you an explanation,” he said. He sounded frustrated. “I don’t owe you—”
“You don’t owe me anything,” I cut him off. “I know that. I know you don’t owe me an explanation, a conversation, or even what you did the other night. You chose to do that. I’m trying to figure out why, Clay, and I think I know.”
“Oh, do you?” Clay crossed his arms.
“Because you still care.”
Clay shook his head and started walking towards the firepit. I followed him.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“Of course I still care about you, Anna,” he growled. “Why would I wait if I didn’t? Why would I have faith for so long? I knew after the first five years that you weren’t coming back. But I stayed, and I grew resentful towards you. I don’t know why I stayed—I felt like I had to, I felt like I owed you…and now that you’re back, I see clearly that I don’t owe you a damn thing.”
That hurt. Why hadn’t I just taken the damn journal with me?
“I didn’t know I would be away for that long,” I reasoned feebly. I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact with him. “Mom just…I wanted to stay here. I didn’t want to go to Halifax anyways; Mom made me go with her.”
“I know it wasn’t your choice. But you made me stay here. And that’s the part that hurts.”
I nodded. “I know. And I can only apologize in so many ways, but sometimes an apology isn’t enough. I have to prove it to you.”
“And how are you going to do that?”
“You gotta let me try.”
We just stood there not saying anything for what felt like forever. I could see Clay cross his arms again. I just wanted him to let me in,