**

The Moon mourns the lost

A constant song of sorrow 

Sun and Earth listen

**

Emil picked me up at home the next morning as well. He didn’t even tell me he was going to, he just showed up in his little black Toyota. My mom made a face, as if she was surprised I’d somehow found another friend. He is a friend, isn’t he? I don’t really remember the rules for all this stuff. Where does reluctant accomplice end and friend begin? 

I was grateful regardless. It was an overcast morning, the smell of rain, like soil and anticipation coating the air. I hated rain and getting wet for that matter. I was glad I didn’t have to walk. 

“G’morning,” he said as he opened the passenger door for me. I yawned in response. 

“Did you study for that Algebra test?” I groaned at his question. I’d forgotten, but even if I’d remembered, I don’t think I would’ve done anything about it.

“Yeah, sure. Definitely. You practice for your game later?” I muttered. He laughed. He had a bright, carefree laugh, kind of like… 

Kind of like Rachel’s.

“Don’t need it, not with my raw talent and these calves!” He slapped one of the calves in question. “And don’t worry, math has never been my strongest class either,” he admitted. That surprised me. He seemed good at everything. 

“Yeah, math sucks. I like history though,” I added.

“Me too, I like learning about leaders and kings and whatever. The ones that change the world or just mess shit up. It’s cool,” he rambled, eyes flashing with interest. 

“I like the weird ones. Like that Roman dude who thought his horse could talk. Or that guy whose wife cheated on him, so he cut off her lover's head and put it in a jar as a gross gift for her.”

“Ew,” Emil laughed again. “Why not just kill him?” 

“I don’t know, probably wanted it to last longer or…'' I paused as a chill ran up the back of my neck. Deja-vu, something familiar about the road Emil had turned on to. I’ve been here before.

 I suddenly realized where we were. What we were driving by. I was never told exactly what ditch we’d rolled into, but somehow, I just knew. This was it. 

The whole world seemed to collapse on top of me. 

Where did the air go? Why isn’t there enough? Just a little bit more, please. I’m sorry Rachel, just let me breathe.

“Seth? Oh shit,” someone spoke beside me, but I couldn’t quite figure out who it was through my film of hysteria. The car pulled over and stopped, but everything still felt like it was moving. 

“Hey, Seth? Seth! You gotta listen to me.” The voice was too loud and too quiet at the same time, but I just wanted to cling to it. It was real, everything else was not. Logically, I knew that much, though in that moment reality didn’t really seem to matter. 

“I need you to listen to me, take a deep breath.”

“I can’t!” I wheezed, choking desperately on my own words.

“You can. I know you can. It’s just a panic attack. Five seconds in, five seconds out. It works, I promise.”

“I can’t.”

“Trust me, kid.” It was Daphne. It had to be. I didn’t know how, but it didn’t matter. I felt her gripping my shoulder, as if anchoring me in place. I tried what she said. One, two, three- shit. Try again, one, two, three.

“Hey, do it with me. One, two, three, four, five.” 

I did as she said. 

“Now out. One, two, three, four, five…” 

I did it again. And again. Five seconds over and over. My senses started to come back. I could hear the car's engine running, the radio playing some indecipherable rap song. I could feel the seat beneath me, the hand on my shoulder. I forced my eyes open. There was Emil, his eyes kind and nervous, his own breathing scattered and uneven. It was him, the whole time, and yet… 

“I’m ok,” I managed. “I don’t know what happened.” 

Emil locked his arms around me in a hug that was far too tight for my oxygen-deprived lungs. 

“I’m sorry. I should’ve known. I saw where the crash happened on the news. I just spaced out on where we were.” 

“I didn’t even know where it happened. Nobody ever told me. It suddenly all came back… I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Emil said, pulling himself away. The cold that followed was excruciating, as was the silence. 

“Hey, uh,” I began.

“Yeah?”

“We have to figure out who Daphne is, like really. I don’t know why but…”

“I know. Something’s weird about the whole situation, I’ve got this feeling. Well, it doesn’t matter. You good to go?” 

“Yeah, yeah let’s go.”

**

The school day went by in a blur of failed tests and disappointed teachers, but I really couldn't bring myself to care. My thoughts were too focused on something else. Daphne, or rather, her absence. I didn’t see her at all, not in the hallway or any classrooms or even the stairwell. When I asked Emil after school he said he hadn’t either. We found our way to the administrative office, with more excited urgency than ever before, like two kids playing detectives.

The receptionist, Miss Butcher was lounging at her desk, halfheartedly scanning the current of high schoolers flowing toward the exit. She was in her mid-fifties, a sweet and sincere southern woman, ironic given her name. She always acted like an overprotective mother, even though she had no children herself. The kind of woman who carried Band-Aids in her purse just in case someone received a minor injury within a mile of her. She always looked at me with kind, understanding eyes. I liked her a lot. 

“Hey, Miss Butcher, uh, we have a question for you?” She sat up straight like a soldier to attention as I addressed her, and adjusted her tilting glasses.

“Oh hello, Seth! Of course, ask away, hun!”

“We’re looking for a specific student, do you know who could tell us whether she’s enrolled here?” I asked, trying my best not to sound like a creep. Apparently, my attempt didn’t really work.

“Oh, I’m sorry, hun,” she said as her eyes drifted between the two eager teenage boys standing in front of her. “I can’t, in good conscience, give away a student's personal information. I hope you understand.” I was going to call it quits and regroup, but Emil had other plans. 

“Please ma’am,” he said, cranking up the charm, his voice turning sweet as syrup. “We’re not trying to be creepy. My friend here met this girl, Daphne, in a public Magic the Gathering game. It’s a card game, for nerds,” he explained, seeing the older woman's confusion. “But she left before he could find out what school she goes to. Couldn’t you just do my love-stricken pal a solid and just check to see if any Daphnes are enrolled?” I resisted the urge to plant my fist in his ribs. Love stricken? Really? 

“Oh, well darn it! You know I can’t deny a boy a chance at first love! Especially not sweet Seth here. Just this once, but you won’t be able to sway me so easily next time!” She finally surrendered. 

“Let’s see now, Daphne you said? Lemme just check.” There were a few tense moments of keyboard typing. She looked at the computer in confusion before typing something else. 

“I’m sorry, Seth. I can’t seem to find a Daphne enrolled here. Better luck next time, hun.”  She sounded genuinely regretful. Emil and I glanced at each other in stunned silence, both plagued with the same question: Who the hell is this girl?

A phone rang somewhere down the hall and Miss Butcher excused herself to go answer it, leaving us alone with our countless questions and utter lack of answers. We were stumped. No leads, no new information, just a girl we’d both met once. 

“Magic the Gathering?” I asked. 

“Did you say Daphne?” The voice behind us made us jump like twin rabbits. There stood a man, probably in his late thirties, though his eye-bags and coffee-laced jitter made him seem far older. He had curly auburn hair, grey shading the roots, and his watery blue eyes seemed aggravated by his contacts. 

“Uh yeah, we just uh…” Emil trailed off, unable to find a simple explanation. 

“Yeah, there’s no one who goes here with that name. I’m with the administrative office,” the man explained. 

“Though there was one that was in MY freshman class. I attended back in the 90’s but transferred after freshman year. It wasn’t really my kind of place.” Emil and I both nodded in understanding. 

“Anyway, yeah. I doubt she’s who you’re looking for, because lemme tell ya, that was a WHILE ago, but there should be a 1998 yearbook in the library somewhere if you wanna check it out,” the man said, his thumbs hooked through his corduroy belt loops. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. It couldn’t be her,” Emil admitted. “But thank you anyway Mr…?”

“Shane, just call me Shane. Daphne was a nice kid. Responsible, kind, artsy type, way back when I knew her. She always had paint on her jeans, like a walking canvas. Anyway, you boys have a good one. Sorry I couldn’t help out more.” Shane wandered into one of the offices lining the hallway and closed the door behind him. 

“What he said, it couldn’t be her. She’d be old by now, almost forty. Maybe Daphne, that girl, whatever, maybe she gave us the wrong name.” I speculated aloud, failing to keep the disappointment out of my tone. “Maybe this whole thing was just a wild goose chase.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I’m not ready to give up yet.” Emil’s declaration made me chuckle a bit. Who even is this guy? We’ve hung out for less than a week. Why is he so committed to keeping this little treasure hunt alive?

“Holy shit, was that a giggle I just heard? From Seth Radley? Mr. Mopey? Well, that has to be a good sign!”

“Shut up,” I mumbled as my ears grew hot. I elbowed him teasingly and he smiled in return.

“How about this, after my game tonight we’ll go to the library.”

“The library will be locked by then,” I reminded him.

“Oh damn, you’re right. Crap, I don't want to have to wait until Monday.”

“Then we won’t. We’ll break in after.”

What a very Rachel-esque thing to suggest.

“I don’t know, man.” Emil’s usual confidence flickered for a moment. “What if we get caught? I can’t afford to get expelled.” 

“We’ll be fine,” I assured him, picking up the confidence he’d dropped, surprising even myself. 

“Come on, I think we both deserve to break a few rules.”