by Cecily Wolfe
“My office, now.”
Sarah was there, smiling openly as she stepped up beside Cass when the vice principal let go of Cass’s arm. Cass released Stephanie, who was suddenly crying and shaking.
“She attacked me!”
Sarah saw Danny in the hall, away from the crowd but watching with interest, his gaze serious and concerned. She almost smiled at him.
“Everyone saw! I shouldn’t have to go. Besides, I’m hurt! Look at my arm!”
Stephanie was screeching like a panicked animal, but the vice principal was unmoved.
“Let’s go, ladies. Sarah, would you like to come, too?”
Sarah knew that she wasn’t in trouble, but it was very observant of him to notice, and understand, that Cass might need her.
“She didn’t have anything to do with this! If Cass gets to bring someone, I should too!”
The vice principal shook his head and waved towards the hall.
“I said, let’s go.”
He turned and walked away from the table, the chairs on the floor, and the rising volume of voices in the group behind him. Sarah and Cass followed, hand in hand, as Stephanie’s sobs grew louder.
“Not cool.”
“She wasn’t an addict, was she?”
“But it’s a good cause.”
The words were of the usual mixed nature, some positive, some negative, some neutral, and Cass found herself wondering exactly why Stephanie would pull this. Stephanie had never given Kayla any problems that she knew of, but she had taken over as the team leader immediately after Kayla was gone, enjoying a control that Kayla had never used against the team.
Kay would never do something so underhanded and mean, whether it was to make herself look good or to get an upper hand over others.
“What if she was?”
Nika had spoken with her earlier that week when Cass approached her about the school newspaper, considering the details of what she believed would be safe to include in the article without disclosing her family’s name or any other identifying information.
Now she was walking beside Cass as she and Sarah followed the vice principal, asking a question that didn’t make sense.
“But she wasn’t.”
Nika shook her head
“It doesn’t matter. She’s still dead, just like my cousin.”
Cass flinched at Nika’s bluntness.
“But this addiction stuff, it’s not who she was. It does matter.”
Nika sighed.
“If someone dies because they’re an addict, does that make it less tragic? Do they deserve less attention, or more shame?”
“But this isn’t about addiction . . .”
Nika was silent for a moment, as if she was trying to find the right words. Cass waited, beginning to feel sorry that she was somehow comparing Kayla’s death with Nika’s cousin’s. Of course she was more sad about Kayla, because Kayla was her friend and she didn’t know Nika’s cousin, but it was awful that Nika had lost someone she loved too.
It was awful that so many kids Nika knew were dying, and that was why they were bringing attention to it in the newspaper, so others would know, and maybe someone could help.
“If she had been an addict, would you all be honoring her memory? Every day I hear all these great memories about her, and how it’s so sad that she’s gone. I’m not saying it isn’t, and that it’s terrible that she died, especially like that, but don’t you think, for a minute, that it would be a different story if she had been an addict? If she hadn’t been soccer captain and on the honor roll?”
Cass was still, unsure of what to say. Of what she could say.
“If it was some kid nobody paid attention to, someone who lit up in the bathroom and got detentions every once in awhile, nobody special - nobody would care. Worse, people would talk shit about them and get away with it. You know I’m right.”
She was, Cass knew, and a part of her felt lousy for being thankful that Kayla wasn’t that kid.
“But don’t for a minute think that I approve of that bitch pulling this fundraiser crap. That’s to make herself look good, and Kayla look bad. Stephanie couldn’t care less about addicts. I’m just saying, if someone is an addict, that doesn’t make their life less valuable. I didn’t know Kayla that well, but I do know that any time I saw her and we looked at each other, just like in the hall or whatever, she smiled at me. She smiled at everyone. She would have smiled at my cousin.”
Nika smiled then, and it was a small and sad gesture that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Don’t make losing her turn into something about proving that she was better than someone who overdoses because they’re addicted. I don’t think she thought she was better than anyone, not as far as her value as a human being. Don’t do that to her.”
She walked away as the three of them reached the main office, and Cass decided to deal with the consequences of her actions alone, leaving Sarah to wait for her in a chair by the secretary’s desk.
Day Twenty-One
Saturday
There was an early soccer game at the elementary school that morning, so Cass knew that the Dairy Delite would be busy a little after twelve, which gave her time to restock the napkins and condiments on each table. It should have been done last night, but the Friday night crew was notorious for ditching those closing details in order to leave early.
It was Friday night, after all, and while it annoyed Cass that she got stuck doing it, it wasn’t busy at the beginning of her shift and she knew that the owner didn’t let any of the his other employees give their friends free food. Sarah didn’t always stop by to visit, although Kayla had always poked her head in the door while out on a run or after practice, without fail.
Now Sarah had been there the past two Saturdays, maybe knowing that it would be difficult for Cass to have no visits from either of them, but today she was at a counseling appointment her father had insisted she keep.
“He doesn’t ask very much of me, when you think about it,” Sarah had explained, not happy about the pending visit but acknowledging that her dad only wanted to do all he could to make sure she was managing as well as possible.
“At least he doesn’t say he expects you to be okay right now, or ask if there’s something he can do to make you better, or something dumb like that. I can’t even respond when my parents open their mouths. It’s like they’ve never had someone they love die.”
Cass’s last words made Sarah recoil, and Cass wrapped her arms across her chest and hugged herself. The words were still hard to hear, even from her own mouth.
Words seemed to make everything so real.
“I’ll see if we can stop by afterwards, but I think he wants to go out to lunch. He’s had a lot of meetings lately, and been really busy, so I think he feels guilty that he’s not spending more time with me, especially now.”
Sarah’s dad was always around, Cass thought. He never told Sarah he was too busy to listen to her, but Sarah also was considerate of his work, and didn’t like to interrupt him.
“Do you think he’ll ever get married again?”
Cass wasn’t sure where the question had come from. It just came out, and it felt awkward, as if maybe she shouldn’t have been thinking about it. After all, it would be like replacing Sarah’s mother, wouldn’t it? Besides, Cass hadn’t been thinking about it at all. It was just a random thought, that had become a question, one that probably shouldn’t have been asked. Sarah shook her head and frowned.
“I worry that when I’m gone, when I go to college, and he’s alone . . . well, maybe he won’t be okay. I know he pulled himself together back then for me, but when he doesn’t have to take care of me anymore . . .” her voice became softer before trailing off, as if she couldn’t put her fears into words.
“I kind of wish he would find someone, but I don’t think he will. I don’t want someone to act like a mother to me, not now, but if there was someone who could look out for him, love him when I’m not around, I’d feel better about le
aving.”
The two of them had sat on Cass’s bedroom floor Friday night, after Cass’s parents refused to let her have the car to go to Sarah’s. They never objected to Sarah’s visits, but in light of Cass’s suspension from school that day, they weren’t willing to give Cass any kind of freedom to go anywhere. Her father had dropped her off at work that morning, and planned to pick her up.
No socializing for this jailbird, she thought as she wiped the fingerprints from a metal napkin dispenser before replacing it on a table. She almost laughed in her parents’ faces. Socializing? Since when did she do that? It was like they didn’t know her at all, to think that revoking driving privileges, as they called it, would have any bearing on her social life. At least the vice principal had been understanding, although he wasn’t as easy on her as he had been with Sarah.
“I know you’re upset, and this fundraising business is in poor taste and was pursued without permission. Believe me, Stephanie will not be in school the first three days of next week, either. However, you are aware of our zero tolerance policy for fighting, and you did physically attack her. There are plenty of witnesses.”
Cass hadn’t denied it. There was no point and she didn’t want to, even if she would have been able to get away with lying about it.
“I know, and I know the policy. But I’m not sorry. She’s a jealous bitch and I just couldn’t take it.”
He shook his head and opened his mouth, then closed it, sighing, before picking up a small picture frame from his desk and looking at it, smiling at the photo inside before handing it across his desk to Cass.
“This is my Cory. She’s autistic. High-functioning. She’s only in first grade, but some of the other kids give her a hard time. I know it’s not their fault, and that it’s up to the parents to correct them when the teachers report it, but I find myself hating them in the heat of the moment. When her teacher calls to tell me that Cory was upset about another girl who told her she couldn’t sit next to her at lunch or on the swings, or she gets pushed around in the lunch line by accident and thinks one of the kids is trying to hurt her, I find myself furious at these little kids. Little like her, mostly acting their age, sometimes repeating what they hear at home or just expressing their own fears or confusion. It’s wrong, and as an adult, one who is educated, aware of how kids develop, I should be more patient and understanding, but they’re hurting my child.”
Cass stared into the smiling face of the girl in question, her expression forced for the camera, eyes wandering to the side of the frame as if she had been distracted by something the moment the photographer pressed the button. She looked so tiny and helpless.
Had she and Sarah and Kay really been that little once, saving a seat on the bus for each other, sharing the contents of each other’s lunches, defending each other against outsiders who tried to bully or tease?
“Do you know why I’m telling you this?”
Cass nodded.
“Yeah. I’m sorry about her, about what you’re going through. And I know you still have to suspend me, but missing the assignments? I don’t know how that will look when I apply to go into the Air Force.”
He reached out for the picture frame, his head tilted as he considered her.
“The military?”
She nodded.
“I want to be a nurse, travel.”
He smiled as he set the frame back on his desk, then folded his hands in front of him.
“It’s probably early enough in the year that you’ll have time to pull your grades up. I know this is a difficult time for you, and we, the administration and teaching staff, aren’t sure how we should handle this, but we’re doing our best.”
Cass felt herself sag into the chair. Sure, it was different from Sarah’s situation, since Stephanie hadn’t been provoking her directly, but it was still lousy for her to just fail the work she was going to miss. Maybe she could talk her teachers into some extra credit.
She and Nika were supposed to meet with the newspaper advisor on Tuesday, but that could be rescheduled, or Nika could go alone. Cass wasn’t sure how much she wanted, or needed, to be a part of that meeting, especially after what Nika had said to her in the hall. Everyone knew Kayla, and what had happened to her. Cass didn’t need to tell the teacher any more about her or that night; the basic facts were all that anyone needed. Nika’s cousin and the others who went to his high school, who lived in his neighborhood, were unknown.
Unheard.
Nika was going to be that voice, and her story would go to print so that everyone would see. It was up to readers if they paid attention or not, but no one would be able to claim ignorance like she once had, and now knew better.
“She only did it one time. No one tells you that you can die from doing it one time.”
He blinked, frowning as he took a moment to consider her words.
“But you’re taught in health class, in different grades, about drugs and drug use. I know the curriculum includes the dangers of use.”
“Yeah,” she said, thinking of the poorly acted skits on DVDs they were shown back in tenth grade. “But the ones in those movies they showed us, those people, the ones who died, they were addicts, homeless people, not kids like us. The nurse who came to talk in health class about sex told us that you can get pregnant the first time you do it, but that some people think you can’t, and by the time they find out it’s because they’re pregnant. But no one says if you try heroin, if you do it just once, you can die. Don’t you think that’s important to know, so someone doesn’t do it that one time thinking, maybe, it’s just once, for whatever reason, instead thinking no, I’m not going to because it could kill me?”
She could tell that her voice was rising as his expression changed, and he looked away as she finished speaking. Was he angry? Did he think she was wrong, or mistaken?
“You’ve given me a lot to think about, Cassidy. I hope you will use your suspension to think, as well, about how you can better respond to people, and situations, when you’re angry.”
She nodded.
“I brought Sarah here this morning, so she won’t have a ride home if I leave now.”
“I’m sure we can figure something out for her. You will have to leave, as soon as Stephanie is off the property. I don’t want any trouble in the parking lot between the two of you. I know this is a small town, so avoid her while you’re out, too. You’re both old enough to get into legal trouble for assaulting each other, so keep that in mind if you do run into her.”
“Or over her.”
She didn’t mean to say it so loudly.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. You can go to your locker if you need to, since Stephanie has already left the building. Your parents have been notified, and they will expect you to be home within a reasonable amount of time after you leave here.”
She stood up and glanced over at the photo frame.
“Thanks for listening. I hope you teach Cory to stand up for herself. She doesn’t need to take any shit from anyone.”
She thought that any other teacher or principal would have given her detentions for swearing so much, but the vice principal didn’t hassle her about it. She thought about his response to her questions about the drug education they’d had several times since middle school, and if he would look into changing it.
