I swear there is some sort of force field surrounding her dorm room. I stand there for at the very least five minutes just staring at it unable to knock. I don't know what to say when she answers. Do I act as normal as though everything is ok? Or do I force the subject of a doctor's appointment? Then for some reason, unbeknown to myself, my fist clenches and knocks on the door, breaking the force field around.
She opens the door a little and peers shyly out but as soon as she sees me she goes to shut it again. The look in her eyes when she saw me cut through me. Almost killing me. There was too much pain and panic for me to describe. I force my way into the shared dorm, not giving her a chance to protest. Once in silence washes over us completely and everything is still.
She squirms on the end of the bed and I try so hard not to look at her, a task that has always been very difficult with Josephine Potter. Only this time I am trying to answer the questions in my head, like why she hasn't returned my calls or if it's only my calls she is not returning.
This is much harder than I anticipated it would be. Joey has always been the sensible one. I would have thought the first thing she would have done was booked a doctors appointment. But all she is done is shut herself away from the world, refusing to see anyone. Talking to her is like talking to a brick wall or asking Doug for relationship advice. I don't want to force her into doing anything she doesn't want to do, like going to see a doctor or at least talk to our friends, but I only have her best interests at heart.
With my head buried in my hands I try to fight back the tears. I don't feel comfortable crying about this in front of her especially when she clearly is not thinking about or coming to terms with the issue. As I look up all I see is blank staring eyes. I only wish I knew what she was thinking, there is no guessing where her eyes or body language is concerned. She is completely shut off.
I rise and pace around the room for a moment. From my pocket I pull and unfold a pile of paper, Internet printed information on breast cancer. I thought it might encourage her seek medical attention. It is only when I reach the door to leave that she speaks, begging me to not tell anyone yet. I promise how can I not?
The resident hall corridors are silent like her room, but the tension has lifted and I feel slightly freed. It is not until I reach the last step of the two flights that I realise Audrey wasn't in the dorm room and that I have no seen or heard from her in three days.