by Cecily Wolfe
“I’ll come down later, I promise.”
She didn’t look at her mother but knew that those few words were enough to give her the privacy she needed to look at Sarah’s message, as well as the inevitable glances she would take at the multiple texts from others - well-meaning and not so much - and as her mother closed the door behind her, she began to read the longest text Sarah had ever sent her.
Sarah’s father explained that he had a conference call but would be available if she needed him, and Sarah knew that this was true, and if she knocked on the door to his office, call or no call, he would stop whatever he was doing to focus on her.
It was reassuring and a little unnerving, to be so important to someone, but she would never have abused that knowledge and interrupt him unnecessarily. As soon as she heard his voice on the other side of his office door, formal yet tired, she walked into the kitchen where her phone was plugged in. She hadn’t looked at it since checking during the party for any texts from Kayla as they searched for her at Danny’s.
Sorry bout ur friend
Why would she kill hrself
Drugs for sex
Sarah sat on the floor and read every single text as she scrolled through the list, horrified by some, mildly comforted by others.
So sorry
Do u need anything
Such a pretty girl, too bad
If Kay hadn’t been pretty, would it still be too bad?
Thanks for the day off school kayla
Sarah wasn’t sure what was worse, the casual way someone could be happy for a day off under the circumstances, or the insinuation that Kayla had committed suicide? Or that she had exchanged sex for drugs?
She found a text from Cass but she was shaking too much to keep her fingers steady on the keys to type anything. She closed her eyes and tried to take deep breaths, but the shaking was throughout her entire body and she fought to hold her tears back.
She didn’t want to interrupt her father, but she wanted to go to Cass’s and knew that leaving without letting him know where she was going and when she would return would make him worry. She pulled herself up off the floor using a cabinet handle as leverage, and rummaged through one of the junk drawers for a sticky note and pen.
Going to Cassidy’s. Be back by 5.
She went to her father’s office and opened the door carefully and quietly so as not to disturb her father’s conversation. He still turned his head towards her immediately, his eyes wide and questioning, and took the yellow paper she offered without a word. He nodded and reached for her, pulling her close enough for her to hear the other party’s voice through the phone.
She hugged him back and stepped away with a nod of thanks, turning towards the door and wondering if she needed to tell Cass she was coming. Normally the three of them just showed up at each other’s houses without warning, but this wasn’t normally, and she didn’t know how Cass’s parents were acting. Her father was so different from Kayla and Cass’s parents, and she sometimes forgot that her friends didn’t have the same support that she did.
Funny, she thought, that without her friends she might not be here with her father, or even with them. What if Kay and Cass hadn’t helped her all those years ago? What if she had been placed in foster care, or with a distant relative, and they had never seen each other again?
No, she knew that wouldn’t have happened. Even if they had been separated, they would have kept in touch. They would have remained friends, maybe not as close as they were now, but she couldn’t imagine that they wouldn’t be. What would it be like not to have them beside her every day, not to be able to count on their advice, their senses of humor, their love and support?
Her thoughts as she grabbed the car keys from the hook beside the garage door and moved through the garage to the car snapped back to reality as she sat in the car and reached for the seat belt.
Not having Kay and Cass by her side every day - Sarah knew she was just discovering what that was going to be like. She made it two blocks down from her house before she pulled to the side of the road, her eyes clouded by tears. She put the car in park and pulled out her phone, her fingers steadier now she took a deep breath and blinked to clear her vision, and began an answer to Cass’s text.
Day Three
Tuesday
Sarah had been at Cassidy’s since yesterday, although her memory of driving there was clouded by those moments when the texts had overwhelmed her, the good, the bad, the disturbing She had sent Cass one that was a rambling mess of thoughts and feelings, memories, concerns, and she was sure that none of it had made any sense.
It had, though, only to Cass, who had jumped from her bed as she was reading it and stumbled haphazardly down the stairs to tell her mother that she was taking the car to pick Sarah up. Cass didn’t explain any further, but to her mother’s credit, she hadn’t stopped her or asked any questions, and when Cass had found Sarah, dazed but thankfully not driving, sitting in the driver’s seat of her father’s car with the engine still running, Sarah had fallen into her arms and cried as Cass had been wanting to herself.
She didn’t, though, not then, and not yet.
She wondered when it would happen, and if it would make her feel any better. She wondered if anything would be able to do that.
Cass’s mom and Sarah’s dad had spoken on the phone, Cass’s mother in a hushed and concerned tone that annoyed Cass. What could her mother be saying that wasn’t suitable for her or Sarah to hear? What could be worse than what they already knew? Sarah had walked into the house and straight up to Cass’s bedroom without a word, first sitting on the bed, gazing around the walls until her eyes found the desk, where a friendship bracelet dangled from a corner of her computer monitor.
Cass had an older desktop computer rather than a laptop like most of the kids at school, and kept important items attached to the monitor where she could find them easily. The bracelet was one identical to the two that Sarah and Kayla had, back from when the three of them had been worried that Sarah might have to move.
They had spent more time than usual together at Sarah’s house, forcing her father to continue to pay attention to them and the reality of his wife’s death, and along with therapy and family counseling, he and Sarah had been able to reaffirm their lives together, and Sarah had felt more secure in the knowledge that she would continue to be with her friends. The bracelets had been Kayla’s idea, something she had thought of after her little sister was born and at seven years old, lost her only child status.
“My grandma bought a bracelet for Mia with letters that spell out her name,” Kayla had explained. Cass and Sarah were both only children as Kayla had just recently been, and neither knew what Kayla was talking about.
“Mommy calls it a baby bracelet but I don’t know why. Anyone can have a bracelet with their name on it, right?”
Kayla had the idea first, but Sarah and Cass, maybe Sarah more than any of them because of her insecurities, had jumped on the idea of making them for each other with all of their names. Sarah’s dad had been enlisted to take them to the craft store, Kayla explaining that he could find coupons online as the girls bounced around together in the back seat of the car, where they had chosen shiny silver-toned cube letter beads, as well as clear stretchy cord to string them on.
They had discussed the arrangement of names and finally determined that each of them would have their names first on the bracelet, with the other two girls’ names after in alphabetical order. As Sarah stared at Cass’s bracelet, she knew that the names read CASSKAYSARAH just as her own read SARAHCASSKAY. She rubbed her left wrist where she usually wore her bracelet, which now sat on her bathroom counter in a small porcelain dish that had belonged to her mother.
She always put her jewelry there so it was away from any soap and residue on the counter, where it was visible and she would remember to put it back on. Not that she needed a reminder. It had hurt to take it off Sunday morning when she brushed her teeth and washed her face, too exhausted to bother to s
hower, but she hadn’t been able to put it on again. Cass wasn’t wearing hers, either, so she must be having the same trouble, Sarah considered.
What kind of trouble was it, exactly?
She didn’t ask, curling up on the bed without a word instead. Cass joined her, the two of them drifting silently into a deeper sleep that had eluded them since Kay had died.
Cass woke up in the middle of the night, the house quiet, Sarah beside her, breathing quietly, her face calm and relaxed. She had always been the most high strung of the three of them, at least until high school, when Kayla’s soccer practices began to take a toll on her.
Body and soul, she used to say, but she loved playing, and her competitive nature had been fed on the sport since she was little. She was passionate about it, but the pressure to win, then to lead, as well as her parents’ push for her to earn an athletic scholarship for college was sucking the fun from it. Her teammates counted on her, looked towards her with respect as well as expectations, and she didn’t want to let them down.
She played year round, if not for school then for indoor leagues and whatever other opportunities her coach found for her to keep up, as her coach called it. While Kay had once thrived on the excitement and rush of the exertion, she had grown weary. She had always earned straight As, but she was worried that she wouldn’t be able to keep up, and if she didn’t play well enough to attract a college scout she’d have to get academic scholarships. Her parents had enough money to send her to a state university, but everyone told Kayla she was meant for something better.
“What’s wrong with a state school, anyhow?” she had started to ask, and neither Cass nor Sarah had an answer for her. Cass planned on going into the Air Force and become a nurse, and Sarah’s father had enough money to send her to the moon if she wished. Plenty of kids went to state schools and were fine, Kay had insisted, but she didn’t want to disappoint her parents or her coach, and Cass thought that a part of Kay would have been crushed if she would have had to settle for a less competitive university.
Kay always wanted to be the best, but only by her own merits. If she didn’t play well or didn’t get the best grades and test scores, she would get what she deserved, she had explained to Cass and Sarah. The three of them had always thought out loud to each other, talking through any concerns or problems they had to work them out both in their own heads as well as with the help of the other two. Cass and Sarah had both worried that soccer was becoming a negative for Kay, and if she did earn a scholarship she’d be trapped in a tiring pattern for several more years, but before they could bring their concerns to her, she had blown out her knee during a tough practice.
The coach had them run before they even began drills, and during the run on the day her knee brought her down Kay had stopped to vomit in the woods beside the track. Her migraines had been making her nauseous, but the coach had told her to work through it.
Work through it, Cass thought now, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths to calm her rising anger. Kay couldn’t work through anything now, could she?
Sarah opened her eyes and blinked a few times, unsure of where she was for a moment. She saw Cass, took a deep breath along with her, and pushed herself up onto her elbows. They stared at each other wordlessly for a full minute before Cass swallowed and spoke.
“Have you eaten anything since . . ?”
Sarah looked away. Cass stood up and held out her hand.
“Let’s go find something. She would say that you can’t afford not to eat, that you’re too little anyhow.”
Cass watched Sarah try to smile. For a few seconds Cass thought Sarah might start crying again, as if her tears were endless, coming from some great depth with no bottom in sight, but she didn’t. Her lips formed a firm line, as if she had determined to hold her emotions in check for the time being.
When Sarah took her hand, Cass pulled her up from the bed, but when she pulled Sarah close as if to hug her, Sarah looked down and turned away. Trying to ignore the ache in her heart, Cass opened the door and the two of them walked towards the stairs, Sarah keeping the distance between the two of them as Cass led them to the kitchen.
Her mother was sitting at the kitchen table and Cass saw that dishes were in the sink and coffee cups were lined up on the counter, when usually her mother tucked each item into the dishwasher as soon as it was dirty.
“Girls, I’m so glad you’re up. I was getting a little worried.”
Her mother smiled as if it pained her, and Cass thought that it made sense for her to miss Kayla as well. After all, the girls had spent enough time together at all three of each other’s houses for almost twelve years now, and Kay had been every parent’s dream friend for their child. Smart, well-liked, athletic . . . basically a good influence and role model. Cass wondered what her mother thought now, then realized that it didn’t matter. She didn’t care what her mother thought, or what anyone thought.
“Just looking for something to eat is all.”
Her mother stood up quickly as if the idea excited her.
“Oh, I can make you something. How are you, Sarah?”
Sarah had always been the most polite, impression-conscious of the three of them, but Cass could see that she was about to tell her mom exactly how she was, and it wouldn’t be pretty. Before Cass could open her mouth to reply, Sarah let go of her hand and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Cass with her mother, who looked horrified.
“What the hell, Mom?”
Her mother began to speak again, but Cass followed Sarah, who was on the front porch staring at a police car that must have just arrived in a coincidence of perfect timing. Cass grabbed Sarah’s arm, a little too roughly, and Sarah frowned.
“I’m not talking to them anymore,” Sarah said. Cass sighed with relief, or at least she supposed that was what it was, as Sarah continued.
“My father says I don’t have to talk to anyone.”
Still, Sarah watched as two police officers stepped out of the cruiser and made their way up the short sidewalk to the wooden steps of the porch.
“Girls.”
Cass stared at them without speaking, and Sarah turned away in open defiance.
“We’d like to ask you a few more questions about what happened to Kayla Hunter Sunday morning.”
The silence fell like a sheet of humidity over the four of them as the officers waited for a response, then stepped between them to raise a hand to knock at the screen door and call out for Cass’s parents.
Day Four
Wednesday
Paul couldn’t get out of bed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to . . . actually, yes it was. No reason not to face facts. He hadn’t looked at his phone and wasn’t sure where it was. It wasn’t plugged in, so it didn’t matter. It would be a blank, dark screen, which was all that he could see inside his head.
He heard voices, movement, but none of it mattered. There had to be some explanation for what had happened, but it didn’t matter what it was. Kayla was dead, and the whys or hows would never bring her back.
He remembered how depressed his mother had been when his father left them when he was in fifth grade, how she had shut herself in her bedroom and cried for hours. The sounds had been muffled, as if she was lying face down on her bed, so he wouldn’t hear.
He could, though, but never told her. Never brought it up. What happened between his parents was between his parents, and he had never been very close to either of them.
Once his mother was alone, however, she had tried to cozy up to him, to fuss over him, but it was too late, and he didn’t want to be treated like a little boy. He didn’t want to be mean to her, but it was difficult to accept when he knew, really, that it was all about how she needed him, and how lonely she was without his father.
It wasn’t motherly at all; it was a forced companionship that he didn’t want.
