Lying down on her bed, Kris stares up at the ceiling fan above her and watches as it slowly rotates clockwise. She grabs her phone, which lies on the sheets next to her, and lifts it above her head to glimpse at the already lit up screen.

Still no word from Jesse.

Concerned, she drops the phone back to the sheets and rubs at her forehead. What if he lost interest in her? Or worse... what if something happened to him?

Feeling a sudden chill run through her body, she sits up and lowers her bare feet to the floor. Regardless of whether it's the actual temperature in the house or just her nerves getting the best of her, she finds herself grabbing the chain that dangles from the inner metal frame of the fan and pulls it. Already standing up, she turns to walk toward her bedroom door as the wooden blades of the fan ease to a slower rhythm.

Kris steps into the dark hallway and leaves the door to her room cracked open behind her. Trying not to make too much noise, as she'd rather not wake up her parents in the middle of the night, she practically walks on her tiptoes past the top of the staircase and into the restroom. She flicks on the light and slowly closes the door behind her until she hears a light click from the latch.

As she turns around, she pauses and takes a moment to thoroughly look at herself in the mirror. From her messy hair to her raggedy jersey and house shorts, then to the dark circles weighing in under her eyes, it looks like she hasn't slept for the past couple of nights. And, with everything going on, she really hasn't.

Just one day. Sure, that doesn't sound like much. But when you're used to speaking with someone several times throughout just one day and then, out of the blue, they suddenly quit responding to your texts and calls. It's not normal. Especially in this town where it seems like every other day a new body arrives at the morgue. She figures that the least he could do is respond with a single word to acknowledge her. Something just to let her know that he's still alive.

But instead, she gets a day of silence. Something that is completely unlike Jesse. Surely, if he was able to, he would reach out to her as soon as possible. Perhaps he had a family emergency come up, or maybe he dropped his phone and cracked the screen. She could just be jumping to conclusions.

After turning the faucet marked with the letter 'C', she leans down to splash the running cold water onto her face. Almost instantly, she feels more awake than before and closes her eyes to splash another handful across her cheeks. She turns the handle to cut off the water and tilts her head back up to look in the mirror. Grabbing a small cloth that is folded on the handle of a nearby drawer, she uses it to dab at her face until her skin feels dry. She flicks the light back off before stepping back into the hallway and pauses.

Kris stands still for a few seconds before she begins to walk but, instead of heading back to her bedroom, she heads the opposite direction toward another room further down the short hall. Centered on the white door is a cardboard sign, really the inside of a ripped shoebox lid, that reads the words 'Keep Out!' poorly written with a permanent marker. She grabs the door handle but finds herself hesitating, not sure of whether or not she's emotionally prepared to step into her little brother's room.

Although she's found herself wandering in there several times after his death, each time ends with the same result. Her curling up on his bed, leaning against the wall, or dragging her feet back to her room sobbing. No matter how much time passes, when she sees just a glimpse of any of his belongings—let alone his actual bedroom—she can't help but feel as if her heart is being ripped out from her chest all over again. She imagines that, at one point or another, she will eventually be able to numb the pain. Maybe not overcome it, but learn how to suppress it. She twists the doorknob, just as a sudden noise comes from her own room. Although she can barely hear it through the walls, it still startles her to the point where she nearly jumps.

It's her phone ringing.

She spins around and heads back down the hall toward her room, this time not caring much to keep her steps steady and quiet. As she pushes her door open, her eyes immediately focus on her phone illuminating from the tangled sheets on her bed. Even from a few feet away, she can recognize Jesse's picture flashing on the screen and immediately walks over to snatch up the phone.

Sliding her finger across the front of the device, she answers the call and quickly lifts the phone up to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hey." Jesse's voice is as calm and normal as ever although, muffled through the receiver, she can hear the faintest sounds of his unsteady breathing on the other end. He's clearly anxious about something.

"Hi." She speaks, not quite sure of where to start the conversation. She doesn't want to just abruptly ask him where he's been, as that may come off as obsessive, but she can't seem to think of anything else to say. "Where have you been, Jesse? I've been texting and calling all day."

And with that, she successfully hit the 'Obsessive Girlfriend' switch. Although, technically, they're not even dating at this point.

"I'm sorry."

She waits for him to say something else but he doesn't. Taking a deep breath, she tries to calm her voice. "It's okay. I was just... Well, you know, with everything going on... You had me worried."

"I know." He takes a brief moment to clear his throat uneasily. "I'm sorry."

Kris still senses that something is wrong, even more so by the way he is now talking. She's never heard him sound nervous before.

"I got all your texts and calls." He gulps. "I wasn't ignoring you."

"But you didn't reply?" Kris shakes her head, not fully understanding his point here. "If that isn't the definition of ignoring, then I don't know what is."

Jesse sighs heavily and she can hear him set the phone down for a second, as if to rub at his face, before lifting it back up to his ear. "There's something I need to tell you. It's something I've been keeping from you and, well, I have to get it off my chest."

"What is it?"

"I'd prefer to tell you in person."

"Tell me what?" He can sense the irritation in her voice. "Jesse, if there's something you want to say, just say it."

Silence comes from the other end, as if he is taking a moment to contemplate on whether or not to tell her right now what's on his mind. "I'd really prefer to speak to you in person. Tomorrow morning—let's discuss this over coffee."

Already knowing that she'll be up all night wondering what it is that he wants to talk about, she shakes her head. "Jesse..."

"Please."

She's never heard him beg before either.

Pressing the phone closer to face, Kris takes a deep breath as she finds herself sitting down on the edge of her bed. She stares at her guitar, which rests on its stand a few feet across from her. "Okay."

"Okay." His tone sounds somewhat relieved. "I'll call you in the morning."

"Alright. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He says softly and, after a few seconds of hearing the phone shuffle around, the call ends.

Sighing, Kris lies further back on the mattress as the phone slips from her hand. Again, she finds herself staring up at the ceiling fan as it slowly pivots one last time before coming to a stop.

♫ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴏʟᴅ sᴛᴏʀʏ / ᴊᴏʜɴ ʟᴇɢᴇɴᴅ ♫