AN: Well, this makes for four chapters in one day, my personal record.
Snickers Flavored Kudos to BIGGERimagination for guessing the two references.
There's another two references in here, also. One is spelled out, but one is a little harder.
A Cagillion gold stars to whoever finds them.
Sara's POV
We brought Alena home from camp three weeks ago, and she's barely talked to anyone since then. I saw her cell phone bill, and she's only sent text messages to one person, and even though he's not in her inbox, I'm pretty sure it's this Caleb kid.
It's weird to think about it, but my child might be depressed. Meanwhile, I'm just the opposite. Literally. I'm bumping into things, and I'm getting the snooze button.
"Hey Sar," said Nick, strolling into the living room. "I'm worried."
"About Alena?" I asked. He nodded. "Me too. I don't think this is normal teen behavior."
"Why could this be happening? Ever since she came home from that camp, she's acting like those emu kids she used to talk about."
I laughed. "Emo, Nick. Short for emotional."
"I'd know that if that girl ever talked these days! We need to get her some help, Sara. Or else she might be one of our cases," he said, sitting down next to me on the couch.
"Don't. Don't say that. She wouldn't do that. She knows we all love her. What we need is, I don't know, some sort of intervention."
Nick helped me call some of Alena's friends, and they all said the same thing. Alena needed us to remind her how much we all loved her. We were going to slap her out of this with the hand of love.
Alena's POV
Not much to report. I think it's been a couple weeks, but it might have been longer. Caleb still hasn't been able to get his parents to let him visit Greg. It's still such a small world. Who would have thought that he could be Greg's nephew.
I think my parents are planning an intervention. I heard them talking downstairs the other day. I really don't do anything anymore, so listening to their conversations has really become what I do to pass the time.
I'm laying on my bed, looking at the ceiling. I smelled my armpits a couple minutes ago. I really should shower. I can't remember the last time I did. I pulled myself up and grabbed a towel. Walking into the bathroom, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I was wearing his sweatshirt again. I haven't washed it because it still smells like him. I took it off and folded it carefully, setting it on the bathroom counter. The rest of my clothes I striped off and threw carelessly on the floor and climb into the shower. The cold water hit me, but I can barely feel it. I don't really feel anything these days. I'm desensitized.
After getting out of the shower, I pull on some fresh clothes and his sweatshirt, and then throw my hair in a ponytail. I walk to my bed and see a small package on it. It's about the size of a grapefruit, only square. I look at the return address.
Caleb Greene
6882 McCarthy Ave
Sacramento, CA 95818
I ripped open the package violently. Inside, there was a Mix Tape, a real cassette tape that said 'Mix Tape' on it in fabric paint! And a small ring box. I opened it slowly and gasped.
There was a plane ticket. Las Vegas International Airport to Sacramento International Airport. Happy tears streamed down my face. I grabbed the mix tape and shoved it forcefully into my cassette player. I only keep it around to listen to Harry Potter tapes.
I collapse on the floor as I hear the sound of his voice.
"Hey Alena. It's me. Well, you probably know that already. But I made this for you. And if you got the present, then mail me back. It's more fun." I crumpled as his voice stopped, but my breath caught as I heard a song. Two Weeks in Hawaii by Hellogoodbye. But it started in the middle of a verse.
I felt so bad when your mom
Caught us eating ice cream in your
Room at three in the morning
'Cause I'd hate for her
To not want me around her daughter
I stared down at the plane ticket clutched in my hand as the song switched again, and all the air was wiped out of my lungs. I closed my eyes and imagined I was sitting on my camp bed at night, listening to him playing outside my window as I listened to his song. To our song.
We watch the season
Pull up it's own stakes
And catch the last weekend
Of the last week
Before the gold and the glimmer have been replaced
Another sun soaked season fades away
You have stolen my heart
I had to get to Sacramento. Now the only thing was getting my dad to let me go.
