The Truth About Drew

At fourteen, Claire Thomas leads the average life of a teenage girl, living in the shadow of her popular older brother, maneuvering her way through family, friendships, and first love. But her childhood best friend, Drew, is not your average teenage boy. In fact, he's downright unusual. Sometimes he disappears, almost before her eyes. He speaks in clichés, quotes, and Bible verses, and is always writing in his worn leather notebook.

Drew seems to have the inside track to all things spiritual, but Claire lives in a family that does not go to church, with a mother who hates God. It seems Drew is trying to tell her something important, but she isn't sure what that is. After years of wondering why she is the only person to ever see or speak to him, thinking maybe he isn't real and it's all in her head, she is determined to discover the truth about Drew.

A part of me always knew there was something different about
Drew. I can’t even remember the first time I met him, but it
seemed he was always in my life, as far back as I could recall.
Maybe even longer.

One of my earliest memories of Drew was a Spring afternoon
in the third grade. The sun shone brightly, warming the afternoon
air, birds chirped in the trees along the edge of the playground,
and we tried to swing high enough to touch the sky with our feet.

Drew reached over and grabbed my hand and it was like a
surge of energy flowed between us. He had this twinkle in his
eye, playful yet serious. I felt a rush of excitement, but also a
sense of peace at the same time. It was a strange contradiction
of emotions that I had never felt before.

We pushed off the ground and laughed joyfully, leaning
back and pushing our feet as high as they would go. The wind
whipped through my long, wavy hair and I felt so happy, like
together we could do anything.

The shrill sound of the teacher’s whistle quickly ended our
perfect moment. When our swings slowed, Drew stood in front
of me and took both of my hands in his as he helped me up.

“We were meant to be friends, Claire.” He looked straight
into my eyes, into my soul. “A friend loveth at all times.”

I was used to him speaking in his “fancy talk”.
“At all times,” he repeated.

I smiled at him and, as usual, had nothing fancy to reply with.
At that age, I was too young to understand all of his quotes,
clichés and Bible verses.

“You’re my best friend,” I replied.

A huge smile broke out on his face. He crossed his arms
over his chest in an X, which I later learned means love in sign
language. Then he reached down and retrieved the brown
leather notebook he carried with him always.

I never really thought much of that notebook back then. It
was an extension of him, always slung over his shoulder by a
thin leather strap that wound around the book to keep it closed.
But looking back, it was kind of strange for an eight-year-old
boy to carry around such a fancy leather notebook.

I watched him flip open the notebook that day and quickly
scribble something onto one of the pages before we walked into
the school.

“Oh, I forgot my jacket,” I declared and ran back to where I
had discarded it by the swings.

I grabbed the jacket and ran to catch up to Drew as he
disappeared behind the door of the school. Tugging it open, I
expected to see him walking not far ahead, but he wasn’t there.
I glanced in the nearest classroom. He wasn’t in there.

I peeked into the next room and the next and the next. No
Drew.

My eyes darted back and forth in the hallway, almost in a
panic, scanning the sea of kids filing back into their classes.

Drew was nowhere to be found.

This wasn’t the only time he would disappear on me.

As the years passed by, it happened more and more often.
I never asked why, and eventually, I stopped looking for him. I
was young and impressionable, accepting his disappearances
as normal. I wasn’t sure where he had gone, but what I knew for
sure was that Drew was my best friend and sometimes he was
there and sometimes he wasn’t.

That seemed to suit our friendship just fine. He would come
and go whenever he pleased and I would look forward to every
moment with him. It worked. For a while.

But as I got older, I began to wonder. Where did he go? Why
didn’t he come around my family or friends? When would he
show up next? Was he even real? I wanted the answers, but I
was too afraid to ask. What if the truth was too strange or scary
or out of this world?

My greatest fear was that he would disappear and never
come back.