Ghost Time

I’ve forgotten how to be alone, which is so strange, because I was alone for so long, until I met Cam. Now that he’s gone, I can’t remember how I used to pass the time.
    Sometime around three, I couldn’t stand being in my room anymore, so I got up and I walked outside, and I was right outside our door, staring at the spot where Cam’s car was parked—Tuesday. Karen drove over, that morning, when she came to my house, looking for Cam, and that night, someone dropped her off and she drove Cam’s car home. But I didn’t tell her I had a set of keys, because I didn’t think about it, and she didn’t ask.
    Finally, staring down at some empty, grease-stained parking lot, afraid of being alone anymore, I was just like, WTF? All of asudden, I knew what I had to do, so I went back inside, grabbed Cam’s keys and my jacket. I got on my bike and road over to Cam’s house, and I knocked, but Karen didn’t answer. I looked inside, and I didn’t see any sign of her, and her car was gone. So I pulled my bike around, leaning it against the side of their house, and I walked over to the garage, behind their house, and peeked inside the window, just to be sure. Then I went back to the front door, and I tore a piece of paper out of one of my old notebooks and wrote her a note:
    Karen,
    I’m taking Cam’s car.
    I’ll bring it back in a few hours.
    Please don’t worry.
    xx, Thea
    I pulled open the garage door—it’s an old garage, and you have to be careful, opening the door with both hands, because it’ll spring on you, but anyhow. I backed out the drive, and their driveway made me so nervous, the gravel crunching beneath the tires, like the whole neighborhood knew I was taking Cam’s car without asking permission. I made it all the way out of town, though, and pulled out, onto the highway, before it even occurred to me that I had no idea where I was going.
    The thing is, there are so many back roads, upstate, so many places a person can get lost. I just drove, like we always drove together on Saturdays, and I kept thinking I’d turn around at the next exit, but I didn’t. I was on the highway for about twenty minutes before I turned off on this road, heading north, and I droveanother fifteen minutes, taking a dirt road along this creek bed. A few miles down, the road came to an end, and I had to stop. So I rolled down the window, and I sat there, listening to the creek, the leaves, and then, for the first time all week, I started crying. I mean, I fought it, hard as I could until finally I started sobbing.
    It was at least ten minutes before I calmed down and blew my nose on a rag I found beneath the seat. Then I got out of the car and sat on the hood, staring at the creek, like it had an answer. But what can you say when there’s nothing to say, except, Where are you? Where the hell are you? It’s worthless, but I said it anyway. I shouted it, even, as if Cam could hear me: Where are you?! My throat hurt, I shouted so loud, and a few birds flew off, scared, and then the creek was still again.
    A moment later, like two seconds later, my phone rang, and I jumped—I was sure it was Cam. For a moment, I truly believed he knew exactly where I was, that he’d heard me, that he was coming to get me. Then I checked the number, but it was Karen, so I sat there, and I debated answering, because I couldn’t take her yelling at me about the car, but then I figured I might as well get it over with. I answered and she goes, Hey, you, and she didn’t sound angry, and I said, Hi, clearing my throat. She goes, Where are you? I go, I don’t know, and she said, Are you hungry? I said, No, not really, because I wasn’t at all, and she said, I’m making dinner. Do you want to join me? I said, Honestly, I don’t think I can eat anything, and she said, Me, neither. But I’d much rather not eat with you than not eat alone, she said, and I had to smile.
    All right, I said, looking up at the trees, and it was so beautiful, but I just wanted to hit something, you know? I can’t explain,but Karen goes, Good, then I told her I might be a while. And she said, That happens when you don’t know where you are, and I said, Guess so. She said, We’ll eat when you get here, whenever that is. Or we won’t eat when you get here, how’s that sound? Karen? I said, and she said, Yes? And I told her, I go, Karen, I’m just… I’m just really angry, and I meant it, but soon as I said it, I didn’t feel angry, I felt like crying