Anne sat down in the middle of the couch. Tyrone and Jessica were on opposite sides, arms around Anne as she shivered under the blanket that covered her. Anne was looking down at the floor. She seemed near catatonic to those in the house. Tears were uncontrollably escaping her. She was not sobbing nor was she making any noise. Anne was simply sitting with tears leaking.


    Mel was in the kitchen preparing some hot chocolate for Anne, with direction from Evan on where the materials were located. Mel was moving slowly in his efforts. This caught Evan’s eye and subconsciously triggered a level of irritation in him. Evan understood that playing nice with Mel would make the remaining time go smoother, but there was something about Mel that Evan could not get over. Some hidden and suspicious energy that permeated from this middle aged man.


    Janet sat on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. She sat squarely in front of Anne.


    “Anne,” Janet’s voice came out softly and without urgency, “what happened? Where is everyone?”


    Anne did not flinch. The only movement produced by her body were the tears falling from her eyes. It was cold outside and the dry air was a huge reason why someone might produce tears at a high rate. However, given the circumstances, Janet was not convinced air was the reason behind this. She had to figure out what happened.


    Janet attempted to speak to her a few more times. Jessica and Tyrone would intermittently slightly tighten their hold on Anne and quietly prod her to respond in any way. Anne was incapable currently. She wasn’t even sure she would reach the house when she was journeying. She had neglected to prepare for the fact that she would be asked to vocalize her emotions. Even worse still, she would have to recount what happened earlier.


    The word “earlier” bounced around in Anne’s head. The hours felt like weeks. Anne wished it had truly been weeks. Perhaps by that time she would have found some semblance of peace. Even if it was a meager improvement; it would be an improvement. She already had to endure seeing what she saw. Images that she avoided remembering by keeping it vague in her own mind. Now she has to go through the following days and weeks and months of grappling with acceptance. The fact that this trauma was only the beginning to a long road of healing made her feel like she was embarking on an insurmountable task. It would be a long time before she could find any amount of significant normalcy.


    Anne hated these thoughts. Every emotion she felt seemed like the wrong thing to feel. She desperately craved normalcy. Normalcy was a concept she couldn’t help but fixate on. Her friends and those who had joined them were desperate for safety. They were desperate to survive. “Yet, here I am,” Anne thought, “just little Anne crying about the inconvenience of losing the other half of her heart. Little Anne crying about her vacation and wanting to be a boring, regular kid. You selfish…”


    “Bitch.”


    Tyrone, Jessica, and Janet jerked their heads back slightly. Anne’s friends had never heard her use that word before. Anne always mentioned that she found the word deeply hateful. Tony would say an outrageous amount of vulgarities, but he had strived to ensure he wouldn’t use that word around her. Those small acts of respect Anne was flooded with memories of. The word came out bitterly and genuinely.


    The trio surrounding Anne began to prod again for her to express herself. A fruitless endeavor, but they needed answers. Anne was stoic, but she was mentally there. This meant she could be reached and therefore the three around her had to keep pushing.


    Evan was looking at the living room from the kitchen. He felt useless, but he knew he wasn’t quite as close to her as the others. He was great friends with Tony and Tyrone, but he always held Jessica and Anne at arm’s length. He hated that he did that. He recalled how disappointed he was in his two friends when they told him about wanting to bring along their girlfriends.


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    Evan was never a romantic. He had never pursued romance in college. He once asked a girl to prom. He remembered her name was Kathleen. She said no, because she had gotten a girlfriend and they were going together. This rejection never hurt Evan. He had asked so that he didn’t have to go alone, but ultimately he just didn’t want to go in general.


    That was always how Evan was. Always focused on a hundred things, but never focused on any kind of romantic attachment. There did not exist a desire to be in a relationship with anyone. Evan figured that would be something he could get figured out once he graduated college and began working. He never felt it was a negative attribute; just something about him that he didn’t quite understand. Maybe one day.


    Still, he looked at Jessica trying her hardest to comfort and warm Anne. Tyrone was right near them both. He was trying to emotionally support both Anne in her recovery and Jessica in her attempts to help. Evan never tried connecting to these young ladies outside of a surface level acquaintanceship. He was saddened by how he viewed them.


    Evan felt a presence near him with a slight bit of heat. He turned to his left and saw Mel who placed the cup of hot chocolate onto the counter in front of them. The older man spoke, “You seem down, kid. Go ahead and give her this.”


    Evan felt a mild perplexity at what seemed to be a genuine attempt to reach out on Mel’s part. Evan looked to Anne and then back to this large man, “Why don’t you do it? You took it upon yourself to prepare it for her. Rare glimpse of good-guy-Mel.”


    Mel gave him a soft smile, “I don’t expect us to be friends, Evan. We’re from two generations and have lived two completely different lives. Besides, you’ll never be smart enough to be my friend. There isn’t enough in you to spark any kind of deeper thinking. That being said, you’re someone who I can respect at the very least. Your concern for your friends is noticeable. It can come off like you’re playing make-believe-cop, but I can tell your motivations do revolve around protection. You have an altruistic view, much like the rest of your friends. I’ll always respect folks who can buy into that kind of thinking.”


    Evan had no words to respond to this. Maybe this is just who Mel is. An asshole who can’t help but make you feel inferior while he simultaneously cares. What an annoying person.


    Evan’s silence produced a wider grin from Mel. He continued, “Look, she doesn’t know me or care about me. She needs as much familiarity around her as possible from the looks of it. Bring her this and stay around her. She might not talk much right now, but give her time.”


    Evan nodded, this time he had his words prepared, “I know you’re right. And I will, but I think I need a second before I do.”


    Mel’s eyebrow perked up, “Why would that be?”


    “I’m afraid she’ll start talking.”


    “Well kid that’s kind of the point, right?


    “No. I mean, yes. But also… not really. I don’t know. I mean, look at her. Specifically you look at her. Tell me what you see when you look at Anne right now.”


    Mel shrugged, “Hell I’m not sure what to tell you. Attractive young lady who was never very vocal. Someone confident in themselves, but also self conscious in a group setting. Someone who-”


    Evan interrupted, “I don’t need you to give me a profile of her from your observations. What do you see right now?”


    “Ok I see what you’re getting at, kid. She looks like she suffered some kind of trauma. She’s probably cold as hell right now, but she looks like whatever is getting to her is deeper than just freezing.”


    “Exactly, Mel. I think I know what I’m going to hear when she talks to us. I’m not sure I’m ready to hear that. But it should help most of us out in this house.”


    “Most?”


    Evan breathed a deep sigh. He picked up the warm mug and looked Mel directly in the eyes, “Yes. Because why the fuck does she look like that while you look like this? Comfortable and warm and safe and-”


    Mel interject, “What the f-”


    Evan overpowered his voice, loudly enough for it to be clearly heard by all in the house, “And having been here for a fucking while. Once she gets done talking, it’s your fucking turn again.”