Saving Cassilia

by Liz Thomas

  Michelle laughed, slapping Ashlynn between the shoulder blades. The girl winced with the impact and then quickly suppressed it. “She’s so stupid. She hasn’t figured it out yet.”

  Cassilia’s eyes fell back on Ashlynn, who now looked to the ground. She frowned, wondering what Michelle was talking about—

  —her eyes widened in horror as she heard water running from another shower a few stalls away.

  The girls laughed at her as Cassilia sprinted for the only other activated shower in the room, which was a few stalls down. She threw open the curtain and gasped.

  Michelle and Ashylnn had placed her bag, along with the sweats she’d worn to school, directly in the path of the shower. Her clothes and bag were completely saturated.

  “You may wanna think about transferring.” Michelle hissed. And then, the three turned, leaving Cassilia to her ruined wardrobe.

  She couldn’t hold back the emotion anymore. Hurt and betrayed by one of the few people she still trusted, Cassilia sank to the shower floor and cried.

  Cody had tried to jog the last few miles to the school, but the more he exerted, the more severe the pain became in his leg. He had worked up a sweat by the time he finally limped his way to campus. The walk and accompanying pain took his mind off of his problems with Alyssa, letting him focus on the upcoming game. Allan University boasted one of the toughest defenses in the conference, but for him, this was a true test of his abilities. As long as he could remember, he dreamt of entering the NFL, going high in the draft to a struggling team, and then leading that team to the big game. It wasn’t about the money or the endorsements, although he wondered if he’d still feel the same way when or if he was actually making the money. No, for him it was about the accolades, the awards, the trip to Hawaii, but most importantly, it was about proving his mother wrong.

  As he at last headed up the hill that lead to the massive, regal campus, he chastised himself for thinking that way. His mother had been out of his life for almost seven years now, and he was grateful for that, but the words still stung.

  To date, no one knew where she was, and he doubted anyone was looking anymore, if they’d ever begun. She was a horrible, vile woman, a woman who felt slighted by the world and took her anger out on everyone around her, especially Cody, who she blamed for her situation.

  She’d come from money; her family owned several coffee house franchises. She’d been wild in her youth, something she openly confessed. Her dalliance with the son of a bus driver had resulted in his birth, at which point her family had promptly disowned her.

  She had married his father, but as time had gone on, she’d become more miserable, angrier, and depressed. She’d even tried to kill herself on a couple of occasions. Eventually, the façade had faded, and she had become a full blown alcoholic. Ever playing the role of the victim, she claimed she was ‘cast out’ from her life of wealth and privilege and forced to be one of the grunts. Nothing was off-limits, from criticizing her husband’s sexual performance to his inability to provide a decent life.

  Cody had never seen what there was to complain about. They’d always had a roof over their heads, they lived in a low crime neighborhood, and they’d never struggled for food or money. Cody remembered his father proudly, as a good man and an example. How he kept himself from slapping his mother silly he never knew, but he suspected that his father was secretly happy when his mother finally ran away.

  He’d died two years ago, unexpectedly, of a heart attack. There’d been no word from his mother or her family. Cody had never met them and had no desire too. Before his father died, he’d pulled some strings, using his wife’s name to get Cody into Victoria University, where they had one of the finest football programs in the state. Between his grades and his exemplary high school career, they were glad to have him, despite the scandal that surrounded the family. For the past three years, he’d made them proud, taking them to two Bowl games and winning one since he took over as their quarterback.

  That brought him back to the moment as he completed his ascension and entered the school’s central hallway. Allan was a pivotal game; the road to the Bowl usually went through them, and his record when they faced wasn’t one to be proud of. He’d have some new tricks for them, though—

  “Cody! Hey, Cody!”

  It could’ve been Darth Vader himself yelling out him, the voice was so deep and booming. Cody had long gotten used to it and smiled as he looked up and turned around. Lumbering towards him was a mountain of a young man, towering a six feet, seven inches tall and more than three hundred and thirty pounds. He sported a sun-like grin and a bowl cut that no one dared make fun of him for. This was Matt, the center of his offensive line and a good friend, one who cared more about social status than money.

  He waved and exchanged high-fives with people in the hallway as he made his way towards Cody. “What’s up, Cody!” Matt bellowed as he arrived in front of the quarterback. “Hey, Matt!” Cody greeted enthusiastically. As Matt beamed, Cody took two steps back and prepared to run. “Oh, God, no, please don’t….”

  Too late.

  Matt took him in a massive bear grip and lifted him off of the ground like he was a toddler, squeezing his ribs. “Heeeeey, buddy!”

  Cody couldn’t help but laugh as Matt finally set him down. “Hey man,” Matt continued as Cody caught his breath, “It’s not like I’m gonna let anyone else get their hands on you. Someone’s gotta put the pressure on you.”

  “Ha. Ha.” Cody chuckled, “Just lemme know if I do anything to piss you off, you know, so I can leave town first?”

  Matt laughed and slapped him on the back gently. “My friend, I am the town. There’s nowhere for you to run.”

  Again, Cody chuckled, grateful that the mammoth offensive lineman was on his side. The two made their way down the crowded hallway together, accepting various ‘good-luck’s’ from the passerby. “So what’s up, man? You ready for Allan?”

  Cody nodded. “Yeah, I am. In fact, I’m glad you caught up to me. I wanna talk to you about a new game plan.”

  Matt scowled. “New game plan? You talk to Coach Kruger about that?”

  Cody shook his head. “No, but he trusts me. I figure I’d run it past you and then see what has to say.”

  “You wanna do this three hours from kickoff? What’s up with that?”

  The two exited the hallway into the central courtyard. Matt had to duck to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. “What’d you have in mind?” Matt asked as they made their way through the congested courtyard towards the lunchroom.

  “I figure I can move around more. Keep their defense confused.”

  Matt scowled. “You’re kidding, right? Coach Kruger hates it when you go mobile.”

  “He hates it more when we lose.”

  Matt scowled and looked down at his friend. “Hey man, what’s wrong? This isn’t like you.”

  Surprised, Cody looked up into the genuine eyes of his concerned teammate. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m ready to play.”

  Matt nodded to one of the nearby circular marble tables that happened to be vacant. As he and Cody made their way to it, Matt spoke. “Screw that, I know you’re always ready to play. But since when do you change the plan before the game? Even against Allan?”

  Cody exhaled and sat down on top of the table, shaking his head. “I dunno. I just feel like we need to do something else before they beat us two years in a row.”

  Matt paused and said; “It’s Alyssa again, isn’t it?”

  Cody lowered his head and said nothing.

  Matt sighed and said, “Man…you gotta get rid of that girl. She’s messing with your head.”

  Cody chuckled involuntarily and shook his head, hopping as pain fired through his leg when he put too much weight on it. “You have no idea, man.”

  Matt gave him a playful shove and laughed. “See, that’s your damn problem, man. You need to think with the one on your neck and keep your other one as far away from her as you can.”

  “Yeah
, cause I’ve never tried that before.”

  “Is it worth it? For real?”

  Again, Cody shook his head. “It’s not even the sex, man, although that really is…awesome, man, seriously. But her father can destroy me if I ever hurt his little girl.”

  “Sounds like she’s destroying you already, man. What else can he do?”

  “I dunno. But Alyssa is already talking about me dropping out of school to become her twenty-four-seven fuck buddy.”

  Matt shuddered. “Ouch.”

  “I just don’t know what to do, man.” Cody looked at Matt, sincerely afraid, “Her father, Matt, man, you don’t know her father. I’ve had two conversations with the man and in both of them he’s confirmed what he’s done to her ex’s.”

  Matt frowned and asked, “Well…what has he done?”

  Cody snickered and replied, “One is a cashier at Burger King and the other is gone.”

  Matt raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”

  “I mean ‘gone’, Matt. Like my mom. Like Jimmy Hoffa. Gone.”

  The two were quiet for a second.

  “Look.” Matt spoke up, “If you wanna change up the game plan, I’m okay with that. You’ve been playing these guys as long as I have. If you have an idea as to how to beat them, then let’s talk to Coach Kruger together. But let’s make sure we’re doing it for the right reasons, okay? Cause football may be your only way out of this.”

  Cody exhaled and nodded. “I know.”

  “Come on.” Matt said, hopping to his feet, “Let’s grab a bite and go talk to Coach Kruger.”

  Cassilia finished crying a few moments after the girls left, and then took a moment to compose herself. She tried not to get depressed but it was hard not to wonder what she had done to be so hated in this life. She was a good person, or at least she tried to be. She was nice to people who didn’t deserve it, she gave to those who would’ve taken it anyway, she tried to be open-minded and understanding even of things that made no sense to her. Pushing other people around just to feel important, it was wrong.

  Still, she had prepared for this, and while she had some idea of what to do with her wet clothes, she always kept a spare set of school clothes in her locker.

  She made her way over to the locker, which wasn’t far from the shower. Upon opening it, she removed one of the two spare towels she kept, dried herself, and then dressed herself in simple jeans and a sweater. She took a moment to dry her hair as best as she could, trying to straighten it in the mirror.

  Running her hands through her hair and replacing her glasses, she became transfixed on the reflection. Perhaps it was despondency or desperation, but the image in the mirror slowly shimmered, changing ever so slightly into a visage that was slightly older and much more beautiful than she was. The image smiled at her. “Keep your head up, Cassie.”

  With that, the image faded, and Cassilia once again found herself looking at her own reflection. Cassilia released a deep breath, unable to look at herself. She turned away and fell back against the mirror. She missed her mother so much. The woman had been unbreakably strong, even up to her dying day. Even as Roger had done everything in his power to destroy her—eventually succeeding—she had remained smiling and happy to the end of her days. She had often said those words to Cassilia when she’d felt low, mostly after Trina and the others had finished tormenting her.

  Cassilia wondered what her mother would think of her now, so many years after her passing.

  Don’t be silly, Cassie. I loved you then, I love you now. Beautiful things will happen for you, and soon.

  Hearing her mother’s voice in her mind brought little comfort, enough to bring a slight smile to her face.

  She took one more breath, getting herself together. There was a laundry room in the basement that the janitorial staff had been good enough to let her use for days such as this. Cassillia reckoned that if she could get her bag and clothes into the wash soon, they’d be ready to be picked up by the time she finished her classes.

  Straining to heft her soaked backpack, Cassilia got the strap over her shoulder and prepared to exit the locker room.

  Three knocks on the door struck with such force that Roger leapt in his seat, fearful that the police were about to come crashing through. They certainly would, if they knew everything that was going on, but he smiled, folding his newspaper and placing it on the table. If anyone had a clue what he was up too, he would’ve been in cuffs a long time ago.

  He rose from the table as three more knocks followed, accompanied by an annoyed woman calling his name brusquely. Roger exhaled and slowly rose, pushing himself away from the table. He cleared his throat, straightening his blood-red tie before calling back; “One moment, please!”

  The bitch knocked four more times and Roger was getting the distinct impression that she was there simply to piss him off. If she kept pushing him, she’d find out how terrible he could be when he lost his temper.

  He strolled through the magnificent beige front room, clasping his hands behind his back and admiring the large, fragile and gorgeous chandelier that was suspended from the ceiling, several feet above the ground. To his far left was the wide fireplace that rose into an arch, taking up a third of the wall. On the mantle were several expensive keepsakes gathered from his late wife’s many travels around the world. Roger had never left the United States, never seen the point. Everything he’d ever wanted he’d been able to take right here.

  The woman must’ve curled her hand into a fist and struck the door with the bottom of it, as half of the front room shuddered with each of the five impacts. “Mr. Huntington! I must insist you open this door immediately or I will be forced to return with the police!”

  Roger scowled upon hearing that. Morbidly curious as to what this was about, he strode up to the door, making a quick mental checklist of every crime he’d committed in the past ten years, and the steps he’d taken to ensure he’d never get caught. He’d been careful, he had nothing to worry about…

  Plastering on his winning smile, he opened the door and found himself looking down an older, but gorgeous woman who obviously took pride in her appearance. She was short, much shorter than he was, with dark brown hair she kept up for work, he imagined. She was dressed in a one piece suit that matched his tie and carried an important-looking black briefcase in both hands. Her eyes blazed pure hatred up to him as he opened the door. “Can I help you?” Roger asked cordially.

  “Yes, you can; you can let me in.” The woman replied curtly.

  “Oh.” Roger forced a chuckled and stepped aside, “Please, come in.”

  The woman glowered up at him and stormed into the house, but when she did and looked around the sterile front room, her anger was replaced by sadness, and Roger observed that she was close to tears as she took in the area. He rifled through his memory, trying to recall if he’d ever met this woman before. “I didn’t get your name, Miss…?”

  The woman completed her evaluation of the living room and looked back at Roger. “That’s because I haven’t given it, Mr. Huntington. You never met me.” She extended a well-manicured hand. “My name is Rose. I represent your late wife’s estate.”

  “I see.” Roger replied coolly, shaking her hand, “I was under the impression that all matters regarding her estate were settled years ago.”

  “You were under the wrong impression, then.” Rose countered, pulling her hand away, “The investigation into your wife’s death is ongoing, and will remain so until we have a suspect in custody.”

  “Please.” Roger nodded, once again playing the role of the ever-grieving husband, “Keep me informed of any developments. I’ve made sure that law enforcement knows where to reach me if I can provide any assistance.”

  Rose gave Roger a look that could’ve melted stone and said, “I promise you, Mr. Huntington, that the police are very aware of where you when they need to find you.”

  Roger was chilled. So they were still looking at him for her death.

  “Bu
t this isn’t about you, sir.” Rose continued in a more professional tone, “I’m here to speak to Cassilia.”

  Roger was relieved. “Unfortunately, she’s not here. She’s actually in school right now. I can have her call you—”

  “That won’t be necessary. I can also speak to your oldest. I believe her name is…tramp?”

  Roger bristled, and he felt his face get hot as he envisioned throttling the life from this uppity bitch. “…Trina.” He hissed.

  Rose laughed and slapped the top of her forehead, “Oh, Mr. Huntington, I’m so very sorry. As I went over the file I wondered who in their God-fearing mind would ever name their daughter tramp?”

  “Well.” Roger spoke, ready for this to be over, “Unfortunately, Rose, she’s not here either. I suggest you address your clerical staff. Such errors can be exceptionally…costly.”

  “We all pay for our mistakes, don’t we, Mr. Huntington?” Rose shot back without a hint of fear in her voice, “When do you expect Cassilia back?”

  “I really can’t say, Rose. She’s a grown woman. I try not to place any restrictions on her.”

  Rose said nothing.

  “What is this about, please?”

  “As you may or may not be aware, Mr. Huntington, Cassilia is nearing her twenty-third birthday, and as such, we need to make preparations to transfer the estate over to her, in its entirety.”

  Roger blanched and immediately chastised himself for betraying his cool façade. “…I was under the impression that Cassilia wouldn’t inherit my wife’s estate until her thirtieth birthday.”

  “It appears you’ve been laboring under quite a few false impressions, Mr. Huntington. Article five of Mrs. Huntington’s will states…certain criteria…that must be met in order for Cassilia to receive the inheritance early, and based on our feedback, she has more than met that criteria. In fact, she’s exceeded it. If left to me, she’d inherit the estate today.”