Author's Note: I own nothing, and I'm working on part 4 now :)
Chicago was boring. Every year, Andrew's father took him to at least one Cubs game, then out to dinner, and his mother – after suffering through both – forced everyone to attend a ballet or opera. Normally he didn't mind so much, but this year he missed Allison horribly. He couldn't even call her, or he would be subjected to another long rant about how "that girl" was ruining his life.
He was never happier than when he was with her, though. She didn't tell him what to think; she waited patiently while he figured it out for himself. She was funny, cynical, intense. She saw through the world's bullshit. She knew her own mind, and he loved that.
Andrew picked up his walking pace as her garage apartment came into view. She had a beautiful body and a beautiful soul. She had --
-- a trashed apartment.
He stopped dead in the doorway, aghast. It looked as though her closet had vomited empty hangers all over the floor. Her cassettes were scattered around and, most worrying of all, most of her art supplies were missing. But one thing caught his eye: his own name on an envelope taped to the stereo. Feeling as though his body was moving independently of his mind, he took the envelope and removed the single sheet of paper. His leaden legs gave out and he sat hard on the floor as he read.
Dear Andrew,
This is hard. This is so hard. By the time you read this, I'll be on the road. I can't stay in Shermer anymore, I can't be with you anymore. You have college, and a place to go, and a future. I have to find all this for myself, and I can't do that here. Life is more complicated than we've been lead to believe.
Don't worry about me. I have money and a place to stay. Watch out for yourself, Andy, and don't let anyone rule your life but you. Don't hate me, please. I love you. I'll always love you.
Allison.
He sat on the floor, reading the letter over and over, willing the contents to change. But the meaning stayed: she was gone. He suddenly felt lost; the apartment was too large, too empty, and he was utterly overwhelmed by the world. Exactly how he'd felt his entire life until being with her had given him both courage and direction. A bump in the envelope caught his eye, and he dumped it out into his hand.
Cold and sparkling. Her school ring. It had her name emblazoned on it, along with the symbol for art on one side, and writing on the other. He flexed his own fingers, aware that she still had his ring. She ended the relationship, but kept the mementos.
His head snapped up. She wanted him to know himself, think for himself, then expect him to sit placidly here while she walked out of his life? Fuck that.
Her apartment was already such a mess, he figured that digging into it wouldn't hurt that much. He went into the closet, under the bed, into every possible corner. He examined every piece of paper he came across, hoping for – something. An address, a sketch, something that could tell him where she'd gone. But there was nothing. He sat on the bed, knocking aside hangers and a few socks. He loved this room. He'd lost his virginity here, on this bed, with her. And now he was sitting her alone. Closing his eyes, he willed his brain to work. To think. Stop feeling for a moment, and plan.
Bender! John would know where she was. He might not want to tell, but eventually he would. John would be worried about her, he wouldn't want her out on her own. At the beginning of the summer, John had bought a junked up van for a few hundred bucks and worked every spare minute to fix it up. Last week, it had been declared complete. No matter where she was, they had a way to get to her.
At a dead run, it took Andrew only ten minutes to reach Bender's job. Typically, if he wasn't at Allie's, he was at work. Andrew ducked his heat into the garage, but Bender was nowhere to be seen.
"You!" a man called. "What d'ya want?"
"Where's Bender?" Andrew gasped as he regained his breath from his run.
"Damned if I know! Didn't show for work today. His old man said his room's cleaned out. Guess he took off."
Andrew stopped breathing entirely. She hadn't just left him. She'd left him for Bender.
No. No. That didn't make sense.
"I love you. I'll always love you."
His hand drifted to his pocket, where he'd stored the letter and the ring. She wouldn't lie, not about that. She'd left with Bender, not for Bender. As if that made anything better.
So now what? He thought as he walked slowly home. Now what? Just go to Rice University without her? Between the two of them working, plus the stipend from his parents, they could have shared an apartment. She'd worked the numbers a hundred times before graduation. It was a plan. It could have worked. They both could have been free -- free from parents, free to be together.
Could, could, could.
Where the hell was she?