Tuesday, June 20th, 2017:

Sorry I didn't finish the day for you yesterday. I was just so frustrated, I couldn't write any farther than that. But, today I can finish. As you can guess, I slapped Rocky across the face. Along with that, I remarked,  "Rocky, what the heck are you thinking? Hell no."

"Geez," Vanessa muttered with a laugh, "rub it in much?" As Rocky stared me wide-eyed, Vanessa stole the bowl of popcorn. 

I turned to her, stone-faced. She went silent that moment and I swear she must've swallowed air when she saw my glare. "And you should be the one to say something?"

"Pardon," Vanessa asked, her mouth full of popcorn. "Did you say something?" 

I nodded as I crossed my arms flat across my chest. "Does Riker Lynch ring a bell?"  

Vanessa scoffed and threw a handful of popcorn at my face. Sadly for her, most of it landed in my mouth, so that was my score. "I wasn't interested. He's a year older than me. He always will be a year older than me." 

"My point exactly," I smirked and went back to Rocky. "I'm sorry. My answer is no. I need time Rocky." What came out of my mouth was the most cheesiest lines ever recorded in mankind. "It's too early for you, valiant soldier, to come swooping in and play Prince Charming. Where we are now, is how it shall be. For now." 

Nothing interesting happened the rest of the day. But the night was the more interesting part of the day. I was pinning up yesterday's now in the tree house when I saw a light over at your place. Yeah, Stormie doesn't call lights out until quarter to midnight, but it was the light in your room that was on. 

Ever since your disappearance - or death. I'm beginning to wonder nowadays - the light in your room has never been touched. If the light is on, that must mean your home. Right? Or that Stormie is cleaning your room so she decide where your belongs will go and to whom - that seems probable, but hey!

Speaking of Stormie, after I walked home with Rocky, she held me back for a moment. She said she had something of yours she wanted to give me. Any ideas? 

That brings us to this morning when I was awoken at six. To my surprise, it was Stormie who was at the door. I've always known your mother to be a riser near ten in the morning. In her arms was a brown notebook with your name on it. "I want you to have this, dear. Maybe you can read from this at his funeral at the end of July.

I began to stammer. "A funeral?" Suddenly, the familial walls began to close in on me. "A-a-a fu-u-un-er-al?" 

"Yeah, we're first gonna have a team run an autopsy," Stormie replied. Just like that, I began gasping for air. The air - it was gone. 

"An-an autopsy," I asked, breathless. "He-he's a what now?" 

"An autopsy," Stormie answered, her voice the firm hand of a master giving their dog a command. "A postmortem examination." She chuckled slightly. "For someone going to Yale, you seem pretty clueless." 

"I know what an autopsy is, ma'am," I assured her, still breathless. "I just don't understand why he needs one." 

"Ross was very safe driver," she reminded me. "You know that already. We just wanted to make sure that the car crash was actually his cause of death." My breath finally gave out. The world went black for a split second. 

When I awoke, I laying on my back on the couch while Vanessa held a cold rag to my forehead. My parents were in tears when they saw me. After five minutes of assuring them I wasn't sick, my legs allowed me to move. 

I went over to my laptop and brought up my inbox. From this morning, I had received an email from the dean over at Yale. 

Dear Miss Marano, 

As you already know, your presence will be in our commons this fall. But unlike previous years, we've decided to give a select group of to-be freshmen students at Yale an opportunity to explore campus more, start the semester a month early. You are among that group. We look forward to seeing you at the beginning of August

- The Dean

- Laura S. Marano