Ash:Okay, I would say you are now officially late. Please tell me there is a reason.
Ash:You’re not coming, are you?
Then, finally, her voicemail. Her father had described her as being distraught. That’s not what she sounded like.
I listened to it again.
“Hey, Marc. I don’t know if this was intentional or not. If this was you finding another way to lash out and making me the target. Or if you’re sitting in a ditch somewhere unconscious…could you just…could you just let me know? I’m worried and hurt. If you’re safe, I would rather just be hurt. Anyway, your loss. I looked really nice tonight.”
She was worried. She’d been in the process of being stood-up, but she was still worried about me. Not angry. Not distraught. Her message didn’t tell me to go fuck myself. Her texts didn’t call me out for being an asshole.
I’d ruined her prom and still she’d been worried for me.
Staring at my phone, I thought of what I might say. How I could make this right. The most important thing I needed to know was where she was. I couldn’t stand the not knowing. It’s like, suddenly, my world was off kilter, and everything was crooked.
Me:Ash, call me. I didn’t stand you up. It was a series of fuck-ups, but I didn’t not come on purpose. I came to the house to apologize, but your dad says you’re gone. I need to know where you are. That you’re okay.
I waited a while, but there was nothing. Then I remembered she was on a plane. Taking her someplace far away from me.
I didn’t like it.
