Part Three: Chapter Six: Flawless

It had been a year to the day since Lia’s death. Just like any other day, I waited at the corner for Ashton. I waited and waited, but he didn’t show up. Where could he be? I wondered. After glancing around one last time, I headed off towards the school alone, pulling my phone out of my pocket as I went. “Where are you?” I texted him. No response. I figured maybe he just hadn’t heard it, so I called him. *Ring ring ring.* He didn’t answer.

Ashton didn’t show up at school that whole day, and didn’t respond to my texts and calls. So I went home, dejected.

“Hey, dear,” my mom called up the stairs from the basement. “I’ll be up in a minute.”
“Nah, it’s okay,” I shouted. My head hanging, I thumped up the stairs and pushed open the door to my room. After dumping my backpack on the floor, I fell across my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I never really realized how dependent I was on him.
Across the room, something white caught my eye. I stood up and walked to the mirror. Taped to it was a piece of paper. On the piece of paper were two words in Ashton’s handwriting: “I’m sorry.”
What’s he apologizing for? I wondered. He didn’t do anything.

* * *

The next chance I got, I went to visit the man investigating Lia’s death. His name was Bruce Sherwood. He was tall, with red and bushy but graying hair and a beard. His light blue eyes seemed to pierce straight through me. He knew me, since I had visited him before.
“What’s wrong, Nicole?” He could tell immediately when I walked in the door that something wasn’t right. “Sit down,” he gestured to the only open chair - the rest were covered in papers.
“It’s this kid I know.” He looked at me, expecting me to continue. “He’s been going to my school for a bit over a year. He came in the middle of the year, a couple of months before Lia... you know. I suppose you could say he’s my boyfriend.” I glanced up at Sherwood hesitantly. I was afraid that he’d think whatever I was saying was stupid and not worth his time.

From what I could tell, I couldn’t have been more wrong. He was watching me with concern in his eyes. He gestured for me to continue.

“He just... vanished. A week ago. The first day he was gone, I found a note on my mirror that said ‘I’m sorry,’ in his handwriting. I’ve got no idea what he’s apologizing for, and I haven’t seen or heard of him since, and neither has anyone else that I’ve talked to.”

Sherwood leaned in. “This kid... what’s his name?”
“Ashton. Ashton Johnson.”
“What’s he look like?”
“Well, he’s got these brilliant green eyes. He’s kinda tall, with curly blond hair. He’s thin, and he always wears this leather jacket. He’s kind of... strangely flawless.” To my surprise, I noticed he was writing down what I was saying.
“I’ll see what I can find out. Anything else I can do for you?”
I glanced at the clock. “I gotta run, man. Thanks, though.”
He smiled at me and showed me to the door.
“Nicole?”
I turned around to face him again. “Yeah?”
“It’s gonna be okay.”