What Rose Above

Fifteen

Stalking the postal delivery truck had become a pastime. It'd become so much of a habit, my mother started letting me know when he was here. And I knew in her heart she counted on Byron's arrival just as much as I did. She hated that I was still receiving mail from an unknown possibly psychotic stalker. But there was nothing to be done.

I'd sit at my bedroom window—sometimes even the living room window—with my face pressed to the glass, my jaw ticking, and my fingers drumming in sync against my thighs. And the second he could be seen, I'd race his truck to the mailbox, always anticipating some form of mail in my name. Like now, for instance. I feared that if I blinked, I'd miss him. It'd spooked Byron the first few times, but he'd have to excuse my behavior for now.

"Tyler! The mailman's here!" Junior's announcement echoed from downstairs. My eyes narrowed down the street, where Byron was driving at minimum speed. I cheered under my breath, then bolted down the stairs.

"Thanks, Junior. You're the best!" I shouted whilst barreling out the front door. Officer's Baring and Delaney were used to my antics by now. So, when I rushed past their patrol vehicle, they hadn't told me to return back inside the house. I skidded to a stop in front of the mailbox just as Byron climbed down from his postal truck.

"Anything for me today?" My question came out in a heap of short breaths as I kneeled in front of him. I gripped my knees tightly, my legs quivering to my toes.

"Hmm, no. I don't see anything. There's something for your mom though," Byron said, pulling out a thin stack of envelopes. Looked like a bunch of bills. Nothing of interest to me.

"Darn it," I muttered, tilting my head up. Robert's house was in my line of view. The empty driveway caught my attention. "Hey, did you see our neighbors?"

"Your neighbors?" Byron's lips curled down.

I nodded to the house. "They live in that house over there. Tall guy with a brooding face and two kids. That rings a bell?"

"Oh, you mean that single father that lives over there across the street."

I snapped my fingers. "Yeah! Them."

Byron nodded, humming through sealed lips. "Looks like you just missed them. I think they headed out a few minutes ago. They were dressed in all-black like they were going to a funeral."

Surely enough, that got my attention. What was today? How long ago was it that Christian, Logan, and I ran into Yasmine and Nina? I seethed through gritted teeth.

"Shit. Loretta's funeral is today," I whispered.

"Sorry, what? Did you say something?" Byron watched me with curious eyes, his face twisted in endless confusion.

I bit back a groan. "No, sorry! Thanks, Byron. I've got to go. Catch you tomorrow!"

"Of course. Enjoy the rest of your day, Tyler." Byron climbed back into his truck, the smoke blinding me from his engine as he pulled off. I ran back into the house, locking the door behind me.

"Anything?" I heard my mother's voice from the living room.

"Nothing." I sighed loud enough for her to hear.

As I skipped back up the stairs, two steps at a time, I removed my phone from my pocket, then halted. What time was it? If Loretta's funeral was about to start (or already started), would Christian pick up my calls? Dammit, probably not. I wanted to get in touch with him now. But I'd have to wait. Patience, Tyler. I rubbed my face and flopped down on my bed. The older I got, the more I realized patience wasn't my best virtue. Nonetheless, I waited.

Ten minutes turn into twenty. Twenty minutes turned into forty. Forty minutes turned into an hour. By then, my eyes stung from having stared at my phone screen for too long. Finally, my long awaited wish was granted. Just as I began to doze off, Christian's voice lit up the room. I heard my mother's voice and the house door closing in suit.