At Last

  2

  I hung out at my room, not realizing I’ve been lying on my bed for almost an hour now. My mom rapped at my door, asking me if I was okay. She must have heard what happened. Not wanting her to worry, and not wanting to go over that episode again with her, I simply told her I was fine.

  But of course I wasn’t. I was grumbling and tossing and turning on my bed from the thought of what I did at the church badgering my head. Why did I have to blow up like that? It wasn’t like me to do that. I’ve always been level-headed. Then again I wasn’t able to help it either, could I? Zoe divulging she’d been in contact with Dylan and I lost my temper.

  Admittedly, it was the kick of envy. So he was talking to her and not me? Who else had he been in contact with here in Woodborough? Was it everyone but me?

  Jerk. Jerk, jerk, jerk!

  “Alright. So you’re okay to take a visitor?” my mom followed up. “Because you have one.”

  I bolted up from the bed, ran to the door and opened it. “Who is it?”

  My heart pounded inside my chest, making breathing a little strenuous. Please let it not be the person I didn’t want to see right now.

  “Martin,” my mother said, and I sighed in relief.

  “Okay.” I climbed down the flight of stairs, noting Martin perched on the sofa. He was agitated, I could tell as his left leg wiggled mechanically, hysterically. Obviously, something happened. Something bad.

  “Hey, is everything alright?” I asked when I made the last step and walked towards the spot next to him.

  Martin turned to me and his worried expression became much more discernible. “Zoe’s missing.”

  “What?”

  He started to illuminate, hands brandishing frenziedly in front of him. “Not more than a minute when you walked out of rehearsal, she did, too. I—I thought she was just going to follow you. I thought you’re just both outside the church, talking. So—so after ten minutes, when you two weren’t back inside yet, I thought I’d check on you. Only to find that both of you weren’t there. I tried to contact her, but…but she isn’t answering her phone. Did she try to call you or something?”

  I was deeply reeling from astonishment from what I just heard, but I managed to shake my head and responded with, “No.”

  Oh, my God. Zoe’s getting married tomorrow and she’s missing?

  Martin went on. “I went around town, been to places I know she would hang out at, but I can’t find her.” Then he ran his hand all over his face, perhaps trying to swipe out the marks of frustration that appeared there. But if anything, the gesture just made them more palpable. More severe.

  Had this been my fault? For ruining the rehearsal?

  Shoot. I instantly slapped my forehead when the answer cropped up in my head. “I’m so sorry, Martin. Listen, I’m going to find Zoe, okay?”

  “But where? How?” Martin asked as I scrambled to my feet to get out of the house. “God, this town is small and I can’t find my future wife!”

  I can. Because I had a feeling that she’s not really missing; she’s just hiding.

  “Just keep calling her, okay?” I pressed before I completely left, bracing for a sudden search mission for my friend.