Sad Girls

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Sad Girls Page 3

by Lang Leav


  My heart leapt to my throat, and it was on the tip of my tongue to tell Candela the truth—that I had made it all up and Ana’s dad was innocent. I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t form. I felt panic grip me like a vice.

  “Audrey, are you okay? Oh shit, I shouldn’t have said anything.” Candela put her arm around me, stroking my back as I struggled to get my breathing under control. “God, I’m such an idiot,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry, babe.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, between quick, ragged breaths.

  She kept her hand on my back, rubbing in a slow circular motion. It took awhile before I began to feel okay again.

  “I saw Ana the day before it happened, you know,” Candela said. “Just when the rumor was turning into a shit storm. I know I promised you I wouldn’t say anything to her, but I had this really strong feeling that I should. Now I wish I had.” She bit her lip and began drawing arbitrary shapes in the sand with her fingertips. “I mean, she was my friend, and I let her down. I don’t know if I can ever get past that, you know?”

  “I’m so sorry, Candela.” I could feel my throat tightening up again. “This is all my fault.”

  “No, it’s not. Don’t ever say that. You had no idea that Eve was listening at the door.”

  “I should never have said anything,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper.

  “Hey.” She let out a sigh. “Come on . . . let’s just—fuck it. Let’s not talk about Ana anymore. Okay? Tell me about Rad. How was he last night?”

  “He was okay,” I said. “I think he just needed someone to talk to. Maybe someone who didn’t know Ana.”

  “I get that. Really I do. Did he say anything about Ana?”

  “No,” I said, with a shake of my head. “He didn’t want to talk about her.”

  Candela nodded. “To be honest, I don’t blame him. It messes me up, thinking about it. I’d rather think about anything else.”

  “Same. But I know it must be a million times worse for you, because you were always close to her.”

  “Yeah,” said Candela. A shadow seemed to pass over her face. “We had some great times.”

  We were quiet, lost in our own thoughts.

  “Are you going to see Rad again?”

  “I don’t know. Mum went completely feral when I got home last night.”

  “You should have seen her at the reception when Lucy told her you left with Rad.” A tiny laugh escaped from her lips. “She was livid.” Candela and my mother were mortal enemies.

  I smirked. “Anyway, she has forbidden me from seeing him.”

  “She forbids you from seeing me,” Candela pointed out. “Yet here we are.”

  “It’s kind of messy. I mean, I’m not sure Duck would be keen on the idea.”

  Candela rolled her eyes. “Duck is way too possessive. You know I adore him, but the guy needs to lighten up.”

  “He can be a little moody sometimes, but he’s a really good guy. Besides, I’m probably the last thing Rad needs right now.”

  “Or,” said Candela, giving me a long, meaningful look, “you could be exactly what he needs.”

  I arrived home late that afternoon to the smell of chicken soup wafting through the house. My mother came out of the kitchen, undoing her apron and sliding it over her head.

  “Oh good, you’re home. I was going to take some chicken soup over to Duck, but you can if you want to.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  I followed her into the kitchen, putting my school bag down on a chair. She ruffled through the cupboards and found an old thermos. After rinsing it in the sink, she carefully spooned in the soup with a ladle and screwed it shut tight. She wiped at the sides with a cloth and then handed it to me. “Here,” she said. I tucked the thermos under my arm and set out on the short walk to Duck’s house.

  Duck’s mother, Zoe, answered the door on the third knock. “Audrey!” she said, smiling brightly. “Come in.” She opened the door wider and I followed her inside.

  Each time I walked through Duck’s front door, I was greeted with a picture of the two of us that Zoe had hung in the entrance of the hallway. We were thirteen, and our mothers had entered us into a local ballroom dancing competition. In the photo, Duck was in a hideous powder-blue suit, and I was wearing a strange sequined dress my mother had sewn for me. It always made me cringe.

  “How is Duck feeling?” I asked.

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “You know what he’s like.”

  “Man flu?” It was a private joke between us.

  “Exactly,” she laughed. “He’s a bit grumpy, but maybe you can cheer him up.”

  “I’ll try,” I said, with a weak smile.

  Duck was sitting up in his bed playing Grand Theft Auto.

  “Hey,” he said, eyes glued to the screen.

  “Hi.” I sat down on the edge of his bed and put the thermos on the ground. “I brought Mum’s chicken soup.”

  “Oh great,” he said, his tone sarcastic. “I’ve been craving chicken-flavored water all day.”

  “You get so grouchy when you’re sick,” I said, ruffling his hair.

  “So what’s the story about you leaving with Ana’s boyfriend after the reception?”

  “God, word travels fast around here,” I mumbled, looking away.

  He paused his game and put down his controller.

  “So what’s the story?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. We were just talking. No big deal.”

  “No big deal? You took off with some guy you’d never even met before, and it’s no big deal?”

  “His girlfriend just died; I think he just wanted someone to talk to, okay?” I could feel Duck’s eyes boring into me, and I turned to meet his gaze. I could tell by his expression he had been brooding about it all day. He looked a little off-color, and there was a patch of rough stubble on his chin. Despite that, he was still as handsome as ever. His hair was dark brown and scruffy, and his eyes were a dreamy blue.

  “What did you talk about?” Duck asked. He had always been jealous of me around other boys.

  “Stuff, I guess. I don’t know. Things that friends usually talk about.”

  “So you’re friends now?” he said, his tone irate.

  I glared at him. “I’m allowed to have friends, Duck.”

  “Sure, next time I’m at a party, I’ll just leave with some random girl and make her my new friend.”

  “It wasn’t a party,” I said, my voice rising. “It was a funeral.”

  “What’s the difference?” he challenged.

  “It’s just different.”

  “How?”

  “Oh, forget it. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “And I suppose he does?”

  I stood up. “What’s the matter with you?” I said angrily. “We just hung out; it’s not a big deal. His girlfriend just died, and I think that would be the only thing on his mind.”

  “Right,” said Duck, with a shrug of his shoulders. He looked away. “Whatever.”

  “Look, you’re just sick and feeling like shit. I get it. But you don’t have to be jealous of Rad.”

  “So, he has a name.”

  “Can you stop?”

  “Stop what?” He looked defiant.

  “Stop being a jerk about this whole thing. I did nothing wrong, and you know it.”

  He looked at me for a few moments, a blank expression on his face. Then, he sighed and said in a resigned voice, “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” I said tightly.

  “It’s just that I’ve been stuck in my room all day, and I hear all this stuff about my girlfriend going off with some guy. How do you expect me to feel?”

  “It’s not like I planned it, you know. It just happened that way.” I threw my hands in the air and sat back down on the edge of Duck’s bed.


  He picked up the PlayStation controller and began playing his game again. “So how is he doing, anyway?”

  “He’s okay, I suppose. I’m sure he and Ana were really close. I mean, I can’t imagine how I would feel if I were in his shoes.”

  “Me neither,” said Duck quietly. He glanced up at me. “You know, I still can’t get my head around what happened to Ana. She was there last week. She lent me a pen in English class. How can someone go from lending a pen to being dead?” I felt the room spin a little, and I clutched the sky-blue comforter on Duck’s bed. “Do you ever think about not existing?” he continued, missing my sudden bout of anxiety. “I mean, doesn’t the concept terrify you?”

  “Of course it does.”

  “I remember when I was twelve. My dad was talking about someone’s kid at work who choked on a piece of apple and died. I think it traumatized me. I mean, I kept obsessing about death after that. To the point where I was sick about it. Like, imagine that. Not being anything.”

  “It’s a scary thought,” I agreed.

  “It’s like The NeverEnding Story. You know, how the Nothing starts to take over.”

  I nodded, thinking back to the day at the lake, my unconscious body settling down among the moss-covered rocks, an audience of tiny fish darting anxiously to and fro. How long would it have taken for my life to ebb away? What if Duck didn’t find me on the second dive down? What if it had been the third, the fourth? Would it have been too late? If Duck hadn’t saved me that day, would Ana still be here?

  I looked at Duck, his eyes fixed to the screen. Sirens and radio static boomed from the television set. A car chase was under way. I tried to imagine how I would feel if the shoe was on the other foot and Duck had left Ana’s funeral with another girl. I felt nothing—not even a pang of jealousy. Was it because he never gave me reason to doubt his feelings for me? Why was he always doubting mine?

  “So,” he said, casting a sidelong glance at me, “are you going to keep hanging out with this new friend of yours?”

  I stood up, my fists clenched tightly at my sides. “Look, stop trying to pick a fight with me, okay? I’ve been having a rough time lately; you know that.”

  “Audrey, you were never that close to Ana,” he pointed out. “I mean, Candela seems to be handling this better than you, and they were really close.”

  “Hey,” I said defensively. “Some kid you didn’t even know died from choking on a piece of fruit, and it messed you up, so maybe this is the same thing for me.”

  He was quiet for a few moments.

  “I guess,” he said finally.

  “Anyway, I should head back before it gets dark.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you going to school tomorrow?” Duck and I were both in our final term at Barrett, one of the few co-ed private schools in North Sydney. It was a short bus ride from Three Oaks and where most families in our town sent their kids.

  “I think I’ll be fine by tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Later that night, I was lying in bed when I overheard a conversation between my parents.

  “I think it’s time we send her to see someone.”

  “Do you really think that’s necessary?”

  “Well, she’s barely eating and those mood swings . . .”

  “I don’t know what has gotten into her . . .”

  “For Chrissake, Edwina, her friend just slit her wrists.”

  “They weren’t exactly close.”

  “They’ve known each other since they were kids. Ana’s been around here plenty.”

  The conversation continued, but it began to rain and their words were lost to the soft drumming sound on the roof. I sighed and reached over to turn on my reading lamp. I propped myself up with some pillows and took the half-read copy of My Sweet Audrina from the nightstand.

  A few hours later, I was on the final chapter when my phone beeped with a text message. It was Rad.

  Are you up?

  I texted back. Yeah

  Can’t sleep?

  No

  Me too. Want to go for a drive?

  I checked the time. It was almost two in the morning.

  Now?

  Yeah.

  I thought about it. My parents would murder me if they knew, but it wasn’t the first time I had snuck out in the middle of the night. “Screw it,” I muttered under my breath. I felt a small, unexpected thrill at the thought of seeing him again.

  Okay, I texted back.

  See you outside your house in 10.

  Rad was parked outside when I closed the front door as quietly as I could and made my way quickly to his car.

  “Hey,” he said, as I slid into the passenger seat.

  “Hey.”

  He pulled away from the curb and turned into the next street.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Actually, there is something I need to do, and I was hoping you could help me.”

  “What is it?”

  “Ana had this gold necklace she was really attached to. It was a gift from her parents . . .”

  Rad shifted gears and pulled over onto the side of the road. He dug into his jean pocket and drew out a gold chain with a heart-shaped locket attached. I recognized it at once. I was sitting at my desk in class one day, with the teacher droning on about algebra, when a glimmer of light caught my eye. Outside, a ray of sunlight had pierced through the clouds, briefly illuminating a gold necklace around Ana’s neck like a wink. With lazy curiosity, I had noticed a dent at the center of the heart-shaped locket.

  “I always wondered why that dent was there,” I said.

  “Her puppy, Starflash, chewed on it,” said Rad. “I think she liked it more because of that. She used to say that the most beautiful things are damaged in some way.” His expression saddened. “Anyway, I found it tonight. She had stuck it in a copy of Brighton Rock, as a bookmark I suppose, and then she forgot about it. We looked for it everywhere, and I kept telling her not to worry, that it would turn up eventually. Tonight, I was putting away some of her stuff in a box, and the locket fell out of the book. I know she would want to have it, so I thought I should return it to her.”

  It took me a few moments to comprehend what he meant by returning the locket to Ana. “You mean now?”

  Rad nodded.

  “You want to go into the cemetery at this hour?”

  “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” he said. “I can take you back home.”

  “Why don’t you just wait until the morning? Cemeteries are so scary at night.”

  “I don’t want to leave the necklace on her tombstone, in case someone takes it,” said Rad. “I was thinking of burying it next to her, and that’s not something I want to be doing in broad daylight.”

  “I suppose you have a point,” I sighed.

  “So do you want to come?”

  I thought about it for a few moments. “Okay,” I said finally.

  He looked relieved. “Thanks, Audrey. To be honest, I didn’t like the idea of going there alone.”

  I began to regret my decision when Rad turned into the entrance of Woodlands Cemetery, where Ana was buried. As we drove past the weeping willows and tombstones jutting up from the ground like crooked teeth, a feeling of trepidation washed over me. When he came to a stop, I began to feel tiny pins pricking the back of my neck. This was always a bad sign. “Are you okay, Audrey?” said Rad, releasing the catch of his seat belt. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m fine,” I said, but my voice came out strangled and my entire body was trembling.

  “You don’t look fine,” Rad frowned. “Do you want to leave?”

  I shook my head and frantically felt for the door handle. “I just—need some air,” I gasped. I stumbled
out of the car onto the grass, desperately trying to suck air into my lungs.

  “Audrey!” Rad had materialized at my side. “It’s okay; calm down.” I felt his hand on my shoulder. I brushed it away.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down!” I snapped, feeling disorientated.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step back.

  My hands had turned numb, and I shook them furiously as I paced up and down the grassy field. I must have looked like I was having a mental breakdown, but I didn’t care. All I could focus on was the horrible thing that had taken possession of my body. I was desperate to get back in control again.

  “What can I do?” I heard Rad say, through the fog clouding my brain.

  “I’ll be okay,” I panted. “Just—just give me a minute. Please.”

  A few moments later, I was starting to feel a little better. I glanced at Rad, standing there with a look of worry etched across his face.

  “Are you all right?”

  I nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.”

  “Sometimes it feels like—like there’s a boa constrictor around my body and it’s squeezing every last atom from my lungs. I don’t know how else to explain it.” I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “You don’t have to explain,” he said, and somehow I sensed that I didn’t.

  “Thanks.” I gave him a tight smile.

  “Hey, why don’t you just wait in the car while I go and do this?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’ll come with you.”

  Ana’s tombstone was barely visible beneath all the cards, decaying bouquets, and other tokens of grief.

  A full moon hung in the sky like a Chinese lantern, and though I was grateful for the light, my mind kept playing random scenes from horror movies in a sinister montage.

  Rad had brought a small trowel like the ones my mother used when she was gardening. He got onto his knees at the foot of Ana’s grave, and with the sharp point of the metal, he carefully cut out a small patch of grass. He put the grass to one side and began digging at the fresh soil. I sat down next to him cross-legged and watched. My mind shot to my panic attack earlier. I thought he wouldn’t want anything to do with me, that he would think I was a freak. But he didn’t seem to mind or make an issue of it, and I liked him more because of that.

 

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