Chapter Three: "crazy"

Receiving a note from Spencer is probably the best thing that can ever happen to me right now, but that doesn't stop my hands from shaking and my heart from pounding.

I can't even focus enough to read the familiar handwriting on the note without my vision blurring. Closing my eyes, I back away from the tray that sits on the kitchen island until my back hits the refrigerator.

Deep breaths.

"Elliot?"

My eyelids fly open and my head turns to the source of the voice, finding Jarret hovering in the doorway to the kitchen. He looks tired as he furrows his brows in confusion. "Are you okay?"

I blink slowly, trying to make my brain comprehend the question. It's hard to keep my mind from spinning in every direction.

"Yes," I push out, trying to ignore my breathy tone. I glance at the box to make sure it's completely closed. It isn't. "Just...thinking."

He eyes me for a second. For some reason I feel guilty under the young boy's gaze. Eventually he eases up and rubs his eyes. "Me too. I couldn't sleep."

"Oh." I look at the box again. Trying not to look suspicious, I close it and place it into the fridge like I intended to before. I'm itching to read the note, but something makes me hesitate. Besides, Jarret seems troubled.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask.

Jarret suddenly looks much older than he is. "Not really."

Fear. Fear is what makes me hesitate.

I grin. "Me either."

We end up in the living room on the couch, playing video games on my old Xbox 360. The excitement in his big eyes almost makes me forget about the note, but in between the levels of the games we play, Spencer clogs my mind.

When Jarret's mom knocks on the door around midnight, relief and anticipation attack me at the same time. The mixture creates an odd pressure at the bottom of my stomach.

Under a battered black umbrella, Mrs. Krynick blinks up at me. The yellow glow of the porch light emphasizes the tiredness in her face. Even so, her lips stretch into a kind smile.

"Elliot, Lainey told me everything over the phone. I can't thank you enough."

Of course Mom called her. How else would she know to come here? My jumbled mind didn't even think about contacting Mrs. Krynick. I make a mental note to thank Mom in the morning.

"It's really no problem. Spending time with Jarret was more of a gift than a good deed," I say. She continues to beam as I invite her inside.

Once she enters the living room, Jarret stands and gives her a hug. "You have to be more responsible with your keys, Jarret," she scolds, although her tone remains light. A sigh escapes her lips. "Heaven knows I can't keep buying new ones forever."

My mouth opens without my permission. "Jarret can stay with me on school days."

What?

The mother and son watch me, matching brown eyes wide in surprise. I take a breath. "You won't have to worry about him. And we'd both have someone to keep us company." My voice drops in volume at those last few words. I clear my throat.

Jarret surprises me with a smile. "That sounds fun."

Sudden relief makes my shoulders relax. Having Jarret around somehow made things better today, especially with the news I received. I pull another smile.

"Mrs. Krynick?"

She nods slowly, looking down at her son. "Sure, if that's what you want." The gratefulness in her eyes penetrates me. "Did you eat, Jarret?" She asks.

"Yes. We had Coco's."

"That reminds me..." My voice trails off as I step into the kitchen and open the fridge. I open the lid of the first box, snatching the note from inside and stuffing it into my pocket. I check the second box too, just in case, but it's empty. I'm quick to return to the living room.

"For you guys."

Mrs. Krynick looks confused as she lifts the lid to one of the take-out boxes. Her face falls at what's inside, and suddenly I'm afraid that there's something else in there from Spencer that I missed.

"Elliot, you really didn't have to..."

I sigh in relief. This constant cycle of panic and relief is taking a toll on me. "It's fine. Take it, please."

With one last 'thank you', Jarret and his mom make their way to the door. I stand in the doorway, watching as they walk down the driveway under their old umbrella. Jarret twists around right before they hit the sidewalk.

"See you Monday!"

I smile. "See you!"

Once I close the door, my fingers immediately dip into my pocket, fishing out the neon blue note. I stumble over the couch as I scan it on my way to my bedroom. The handwriting is definitely his - it's meticulous and small. He's even organized it into paragraphs.

Once I've traveled up the stairs and into my room, I've already read the whole letter, but my mind was spinning far too much to comprehend any of it.

I kick my bedroom door closed, joining Cheeto on my bed and trying to calm my breathing.

Focus.

After a few more breaths, I steel myself and begin to read.

Hey, El.

I'm sorry about this. I really am. You, Mom, and Dad deserved a real goodbye, and I couldn't even give you guys that before I disappeared.

It all just happened so fast. My life was changing, my facade was fading, and I was putting everything I loved at risk. That's when I knew I had to go.

Yeah, that's right. My disappearance was voluntary. I left on my own.

It's okay if you think I'm a selfish jerk. I don't blame you. Like I said, I left without even saying goodbye. But I want you to know that I did it for you.

I'm a danger to you, Elliot. I'm a danger to Mom and Dad. I'm a danger to all of Illinois, to the whole world.

I'm so dangerous that I can't even tell you why.

But this note was for closure. I wanted you to know that I'm okay, for now, and that you shouldn't worry about me. I wanted you to know that I have nothing against you, and that you're still my best friend in the world.

I wanted to say goodbye, even if I couldn't do it in person. Because if things go the way I want them to, you'll never see me again.

My heart stops. The flow of information is almost too much. Cheeto watches me with interest, head cocked to the side. I'm sure I look crazy right now.

Never see him again? What kind of danger could he possibly be dealing with?

I swallow, hard, and force myself to keep reading.

I'm sorry.

Those two little words hardly change anything, but it's all I can offer right now. Maybe one day things can be different, but right now I can't see that happening.

I know I don't really deserve it, but I need you to do me a favor: don't come looking for me.

Please, Elliot. If you respect me, if you truly care for me and my desires, then you'll forget about me. It's for your own good.

If you come looking for me, then everything I've sacrificed will have been in vain. I sacrificed my future, my relationships with my friends, my family, and you.

Don't let my sacrifice mean nothing.

My grip on the paper tightens until I'm almost tearing it.

I'm begging you Elliot. I know you better than I know myself. Stop what you're thinking right now. Stay away.

How could I?

Please.

He's Crazy.

And one last thing: don't show this to anyone. This is meant for you and you alone. Mom and Dad love me, I know they do, but the two of us had something different. I know it'll be harder for you to move on than it will be for them.

They'll be okay eventually. It was you I was unsure about.

That's why I hid this note in our treasure chest. Mom and Dad don't even know it exists, and I knew you'd find it there eventually. When you finish reading this, bury it again. So that it will have only been seen by your eyes and touched by your hands.

I'm sorry about this, Elliot. I really am.

~Spencer

The note seems to end far too quickly. I flip it over, looking for more, but there's nothing. For some reason my eyes start to sting.

My hands shake as I read the note again.

And again.

And again.

I read the note until I've memorized it, Spencer's words whipping around inside my mind like a tornado, along with countless questions.

What danger could be so bad that he has to leave his family? The way he worded it makes it seem like it's something that follows him.

And then...that one line at the beginning is bugging me.

It all just happened so fast. My life was changing, my facade was fading, and I was putting everything I loved at risk. That's when I knew I had to go.

His life was changing? If it was something so momentous that he had to leave, how could I have not noticed it? Was I really so blind?

And then he said that his facade was fading, but I didn't notice any changes those last few months with him. Everything seemed just fine. He was the same old Spencer he'd always been. That's what made his disappearance so eerie.

My head begins to ache, chest constricting.

Did I ever know my brother at all?

And then there was the biggest question of all:

Why was the note in my takeout box?

Spencer wrote that he left it in our treasure chest - a shoe box we'd colored to look like a pirate's treasure chest when we were nine years old. It's buried in our backyard, right under the tire swing. There's barely anything in it - a few coins, our favorite toys, and a picture of our dog who died of old age.

No one knows about that old thing besides us. If Spencer said he put it in there, then he did.

So why did I find it in my take-out box?

I suddenly jump off the bed, startling a dozing Cheeto and knocking the pillows to the floor. I grab my jacket and slip on my shoes, a man on a mission.

Spencer, you're my brother.

I do respect you.

I do care for you and your desires.

I grab mom's keys from the hook in the kitchen, then shoot out of the front door. I close it as quietly as possible as to not wake Mom. Facing the night, I take a deep breath, that explosive determination engulfing me once again.

But you're crazy if you think I'm just going to forget about you.