Blitzed(33)

"How long?" I ask, desperation in my heart. "How long?"

"Troy . . . it's been three hours," Dani says, sobbing again. "I kept hoping she'd come back, that it was all some joke or something, but . . . she's gone."

I stood there, in a stake of shock for a minute.

“NO!" I yell, pushing Dani away and getting to my feet. Leaving my helmet behind, I sprint to the locker room, ripping my shoulder pads off to get my wallet and keys. Fuck the pants and cleats. There has to be a chance. I drive like a madman, running a red light to get to Whitney's house. Screeching to a halt outside, I run up to the door and begin pounding on the door. "Whitney! Whitney! Open the door! Tell me it was a prank!"

The door opens, and Ms. Nelson stands there, ice cold and uninviting. "She left on the bus an hour ago, Troy. She's not coming back."

"Please, Ms. Nelson. I need to talk to her again—tell me where she went. Tell me how to get in contact with her."

Ms. Nelson shakes her head, still cold. "I promised her I wouldn't. Goodbye, Troy. Please leave before you cause any further hurt.”

She closes the door in my face, and I step back, dropping to my knees in the grass again and sobbing. I won my dream and lost my heart, all in the same night.





Chapter 11





Whitney





November 27

Dear Dani,

Thank you for your email. I'm sorry to hear that Silver Lake lost in the semi-finals. I know that it was something the whole school was fired up for. Thank you also for not telling me specifically about what Troy did. That wound is still too painful for me.

Most of all, though, thank you for keeping your questions about my leaving to yourself. I’m sure you have your suspicions—you're too smart not to—but let's just leave it at that, okay?

Life here in Europe is, well, different. I'm staying with a couple of family friends who are in the military, and no, I won't say where. No offense, Dani, but you've got a big heart, and even though you promised, I also know that if Troy is still heartbroken enough about it, you'd tell him where I am. It's enough of a danger just sending you this email.

There I go, saying I'm not going to talk about Troy, but doing it anyway. Fine. Yes, I'm still crying myself to sleep about half the time. I dream about him a lot, and no, it's not the hot dreams either. They're the sweet kind, like when the two of us went down to the River not to do what I'm sure you thought we were going to do, but instead, he taught me how to fish. Or the time he explained football to me so that I could follow the action on the field better.

Maybe some day in the future, I'll be able to get through an email without crying. I don't know.

All my love,

Whitney

PS-Thank you for telling me that you rescued the letter. It hurts to know he kept it, but thank you anyway. And also, Happy Thanksgiving.

W



December 25

Dear Dani,

Merry Christmas! Okay, okay, yes, the cat's out of the bag with that last photo I sent you, not that you didn't figure it out already. I'm about three and a half or so months along now, and I'm starting to swell. Not so much that I'm going to look like a blimp, but I'm bigger. I couldn't have hidden it from you for long anyway.

I looked over the photos of the Winter Formal, just like you asked. So you and Pete are still together, huh? I'm glad for that. Like I said, he's a sweet guy, but you know that by now. And no, that doesn’t mean that you can give me details on what you guys do when you're alone, thank you very much!

It hurt, of course, seeing Troy at the formal. He looked so lonely, going stag. I know there had to have been at least a hundred girls who wanted to have him take them, but still . . .

Anyway, it was nice that you said you danced with him. I know six months ago, you'd have rocked his world, but I guess childhood's over for all of us, kind of. That makes me kind of sad, but maybe just because I feel like for me, childhood ended just when I was making some of the best memories. Don't ever think that the silly little things that everyone's doing aren’t important. It's all important, and I wish I could still be there with you all . . . and him.

I'm getting along well here, learning the local language. The friends I'm with have already gotten me placed under their military health care, so I'm getting excellent care here. I'm keeping up in school, and who knows? I may be in college before you at this rate. The Europeans have really awesome university systems, if worse comes to worse.

Take care over the rest of winter, and know that I love you.

Whitney



March 12

Dear Dani,

So you've decided that you're going to go to State, huh? That's awesome! I know they've gotta have something that'll pique your interest, and let's face it, you're going to raise some hell there too, I just know it.

Yes, you guessed right, I'm in Italy. I guess the picture of me in front of the Colosseum was too much of a hint, huh? I'm not upset that you figured it out. I wanted to let you know, and you're my best friend. I realize I can trust you. No matter what happens, Dani, I want us to be friends.

The guy? That's Lorenzo. He works on the base, and his parents are friends with the people I'm staying with. He's teaching me Italian, and before you ask, no, he's not teaching me any French techniques! Actually, most of the time, he ends up escorting my rapidly swelling ass around to the various sites and art galleries. I think I'm going to go into the art business, actually, once the baby comes. It's so beautiful, and it moves me in ways that very few other things have.