Reasons for Recovery

by Blair Burden

Chapter 7

  August 14

  I ran through the halls of the math classes, searching for my English class. It was a shame that I didn’t know my school, since I spent all my life at school. I guess that is what summer, a pregnancy, and a death does to you.

  “Cassie! Cassie!” Rebecca aka Mrs. Johnson pushed me back.

  “Becca what are you doing?” I snapped as I dropped my makeup to the floor.

  “You’re not going to say hi or even mention my hideous spray tan?” she teased.

  Okay, it was beyond weird. My only friend was a teacher—yes, a teacher. However, it did not count; she was my ninth grade teacher. She was still young and understood me better than myself—it scared me most of the time.

  “I’m already late,” I said as I picked up my lipstick.

  “Don’t blame me; blame yourself for doing your makeup in the restroom,” she said and yanked my schedule out my hand. “Mr. Conner?”

  “Yeah, I can’t find the class,” I moaned.

  “Yeah, you’re in the wrong building. He’s in building A.”

  “Thanks,” I said as I turned around to leave—

  “Wait, you’re not going to ask me about my trip to France?” she said as she held my shoulder.

  “How was France?” I said quickly.

  “I won’t answer you in that tone,” she smirked.

  “I’m sorry, I’m having a bad day, and I have to do this speech for Mandy—”

  “Mandy? You said the M word. I thought we weren’t ever talking about her ever?” she whispered.

  “I know, but this is the last time we will ever here the M word. Well, not until I’m done with her,” I grinned.

  “Ooh no, what are you up to?”

  “You’ll see, but I have to go.” I said and ran off to class.

  As I ran through building C to get to building A, Daniel jumped out in front of me holding up a framed picture of Mandy. “Where were you yesterday?”

  “I made my speech. No worries,” I said as I tried to walk around him.

  “Well, I don’t know if we want you to speak now since we don’t know what you’ll say. All we know is that you might go up there and call Mandy out her name. We can’t have that. The media will be here and her parents will be there too.”

  “Wow, you guys are making this a big deal,” I said, second-guessing my speech.

  “It is a big deal. A student at Simon High was murdered this summer. This whole story has got the town shaking in their rain boots.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me. Remember, Mandy and I were best friends. I will do nothing but praise her for accepting me into her life.”

  “Why do I have the feeling you are being one-hundred percent sarcastic?”

  I smiled and ran off to building A. When I finally found Mr. Conner’s class, I held my breath as I knew everyone would stare at me when I would enter—

  “You’re late!” Mr. Conner said. “Oh, you’re Cassie—Mandy’s friend.”

  I rolled my eyes and searched for an empty chair. “Yes, I’m Cassidy White.”

  “Have a seat. I heard you’re giving a speech today after lunch?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I am.” I grunted and sat at the area where no one else was and that was near the Rat Pack. I squeezed into a seat between Jordan and Sam.

  “Hi, Mandy’s shadow,” Sam giggled. “Haven’t seen you at the bowling center lately. Did you get fired?”

  “Just leave her alone,” Jordan said. “This must be a hard time for her. To come back to school and have no friends.”

  I frowned as they talked about me as if I weren’t there. Even dead, I run your life. It must suck to be you!

  I held my breath and sat back in my seat as Mr. Conner gave a speech on behavior and what he expected out of us. I don’t remember what he talked about; I couldn’t help but notice how weird he looked. Just imagine the geekiest/creepiest person you ever seen and times that by two.

  I pulled out my speech that I was going to say and read it to myself: Mandy was my best friend. We used to have so much fun together. I hope she is having fun wherever she is…I crumbled the paper into a ball and tossed it into my handbag. I felt so fake reading that to myself, so I could only imagine how I would feel reading that to everyone else. The only thing I thought about when I thought about Mandy was how evil she turned. That was all I could think about.

  The bell rang and I headed to building B for art class. I knew right away, where that class was because I had taken it before and failed. Yes, I was the only person who failed art class just because I didn’t know how to make a shaded apple. If my dad were alive then, they would have been sued.

  “Cassie? You’re in this class?” Karen said as she ran over to me. “No way!”

  “Unfortunately,” I groaned.

  “This day just keeps getting better and better,” she said as she arm locked me and pulled me into class. “I love art,” she said as she sat across from me at the long table.

  “I had this class last year and I failed it.”

  “How on earth do you fail art class?”

  “Don’t ask.” I dug in my handbag, flattened out my speech, and handed it to Karen. “Read that.”

  “Ooh is this a love note?” she beamed. “I love—”

  “No, it’s my speech that I’m doing today for Mandy.”

  Our art teacher began to give the exact same speech Mr. Conner gave and I think I can speak for everyone when I said I don’t remember what she said. I just kept my eyes on Karen who was taking too long to read a two-paragraph speech.

  “What do you think?” I whispered so the teacher couldn’t hear me.

  “Eh,” Karen said.

  “What do you mean eh?”

  While rolling her eyes, she tossed the paper back to me. “I don’t believe it.”

  “It’s truth.”

  “It’s lies. I’m a self-proclaimed body language expert and I know you dug this out your butt.”

  “What does this have to do with body language?”

  “You’re all tense right now and I can tell by your handwriting that you took your time on this speech. If you meant it, it would be all crappy looking.”

  “How do you know I didn’t rewrite it?”

  “Cassie, seriously I know everything and that speech is pure crap.”

  “What do you want me to write? About how she slit my wrist open because of a bike or how she taught me how to use my finger as a weight solution?”

  Karen’s eyes grew large, “Whoa, tell me more about this Mandy.”

  “She isn’t how everyone claims she is. Well, not after she met her boyfriend anyway. She turned all mean on me after she began dating him.”

  “Is that why you’re so bitter when everyone mentions her name. I thought you were just grieving or something, but it’s more, huh?”

  “Well, the police think I have something to do with her death just because she called me minutes before it happened.”

  “Why would they think that?”

  I paused and a small smiled formed. “Thanks…”

  Karen’s eyes narrowed. “Thanks for what?”

  “For not asking if I did have something to do with the murder.”

  “I know you’re better than that,” she muttered. “And I don't judge people.”