by S. H. Kolee
I swallowed audibly, but didn’t comment as I numbly placed a slice of meatloaf on my plate. The room was silent as we all concentrated on the food.
“Are you dating anyone, Madison?” Mrs. Brooks asked, breaking the silence. I forced myself to keep my face expressionless although my insides were twisting.
“Yes, his name is Adam.” I had told her last year, and the year before that, about Adam but I didn’t expect her to retain that information. It was as if she pressed restart every time I saw her to a period of time that made sense to her.
“I’m so happy to hear that!” she exclaimed. I busied myself scooping helpings of macaroni and cheese and mashed potatoes on my plate so I wouldn’t have to make eye contact with her. Unfortunately, she persisted with her questions.
“Does he go to the University of Michigan, too?” she asked.
“Um, yes.” I figured the best answer was the one that needed the least amount of explanation, even if it meant lying. “That’s where I met him.”
Mrs. Brooks turned to Logan. “Have you met him? Is he a nice boy?”
My stomach clenched when he didn’t respond right away. I could see how tense he was by the muscle twitching in his jaw.
“Yes,” he finally said. “He’s fine.”
“Oh, good!” she said delightedly. “I’m so happy that both my girls have found such wonderful boyfriends. I never worried about Cassie since she’s so outgoing, but Madison was always the quiet one. I always prayed that she would find someone who would take the time to discover how special she is.”
I flushed, both in embarrassment at her assessment of me and at the discomfort of having her talk about Cassie and I as if we were young girls. Which, in her mind, I guess we still were.
Mr. Brooks cleared his throat and steered the conversation to his latest project at work. I was grateful for his interruption, but as soon as he was done speaking, Mrs. Brooks jumped right back onto the topic of relationships.
“Logan, have you thought about where you’re going to apply to law school?” she inquired. She leaned towards him conspiratorially. “Cassie would be furious if she knew I told you, but she’s worried about what will happen to you two after graduation, especially if you go to law school far away.”
“I haven’t really given it much thought yet,” he replied, his body language clearly indicating that he was uncomfortable with this line of questioning. “We’ll see what happens.”
She gave him a gentle smile. “I told her not to worry. I know you’re head over heels in love with her, and she feels the same way.” She glanced at her husband affectionately. “I can see you two having a long, happy life. Just like me and Charles.” She turned to me. “I know the same thing is waiting for you, too, Madison. If it’s not with this boy Adam, then I’m sure you’ll meet that special someone who will make you feel complete, and you’ll wonder how you ever lived without him.”
I gave her a wan smile and continued to eat without comment, although my stomach was protesting. I was far too nauseated to have an appetite, but it was something to occupy myself with. I saw Logan’s hand tighten on his fork, but he didn’t say anything.
“Do you remember the time you two were in eighth grade and dressed up like Madonna for the school talent show?” Mrs. Brooks smiled with a faraway look in her eyes. “I remember how long and hard you two practiced. It almost drove me crazy having to listen to you girls for three straight weeks. Every time I turned a corner, you two would be belting out a Madonna song.”
I smiled at the shared remembrance. “We argued about which one of us would get to dress up as Madonna. We ended up settling it by both of us dressing up as her but at different stages of her career. Cassie was Like a Virgin Madonna and I was Vogue Madonna.”
Mr. Brooks shook his head as he smiled fondly. “I remember the ruckus you girls raised with your outfits. They weren’t exactly school-friendly.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Brooks said with a laugh. “They were decently covered up. Some parents were just squeamish because Madonna was so controversial back then. And you know how Cassie is. Once she has her mind set on something, there’s no swaying her.”
Taking part of the talent show had been all Cassie’s idea. In theory, it sounded like fun, but the thought of standing on stage and singing in front of the whole school had been terrifying. But as usual, somehow Cassie had been able to convince me that I would enjoy it, and in the end, I had. She had pushed me countless times during our friendship to do things I was afraid of, but not in a domineering way. She was determined to live life to the fullest, and had wanted to make sure I was along for the ride.
The rest of lunch was filled with memories of our childhood, which was far more preferable than talking about Cassie in the present tense.
“Why don’t we go ahead and cut the birthday cake,” Mr. Brooks suggested when we were done with lunch. “I doubt Cassie will be home anytime soon, and I know Logan and Madison have to make the long drive back.”
Mrs. Brooks sighed in disappointment. “What kind of birthday celebration is this without the birthday girl here?” Her expression lightened. “Oh well. We’ll have to make the best of it. We should still light the candles in honor of her birthday, even if she isn’t here.” She turned to me expectantly. “You’ll blow out the candles for her, won’t you?”
I nodded, although the thought of blowing out Cassie’s birthday candles was disturbing. It was as if I was pretending to be Cassie in her absence.
“Would you be a dear and run up to her room to get a lighter?” she asked. “I know she has one since she’s always burning those incense candles.”
“Sure.” I didn’t look at Logan as I got up and made my way to the staircase. I knew this house as well as I knew my own since I had spent so much time here growing up. I brushed my hand against the cool, wooden surface of the newel post as I made my way upstairs. Cassie and I had run up and down these stairs countless times, never mind the time we had gotten the bright idea of using her mattress to slide down them. I had ended up with a bloody elbow and Cassie had almost broken her nose.
The door to Cassie’s bedroom was closed, and I opened it tentatively, although I knew exactly what I would find. Nevertheless, I still felt like I had been punched in the stomach when I saw her room, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Nothing had changed since the day Cassie had died. It still looked like the room of a living, breathing twenty-year-old girl who would be back at any moment. Her jacket was flung across the back of a chair as if she had thrown it there earlier today, and makeup still cluttered the top of her dresser. Magazines were strewn about the room and I knew if I picked one up, it would date back to eight years ago.
Her bed was in disarray as if Cassie had roused from it just this morning. I felt a rush of emotion go through me as I thought about the countless times we had stayed up late under the covers, giggling about which boys we thought were cute in our school and which ones were gross. As we got older, it was where we talked about our dreams and what we wanted to do when we grew up. I had never imagined that Cassie would never get the chance to fulfill those dreams.
I gravitated to the corkboard over her desk. It was crowded with photos that told the story of her life. My chest tightened when I saw the picture of us in our Madonna costumes, our arms draped around each other’s shoulders with proud, happy smiles for having brought the auditorium of students to their feet with our performance. My gaze drifted to a photo of us in high school in our soccer uniforms. Cassie had convinced me to try out for the junior varsity squad our freshman year, and somehow, we had both made the team, despite my total lack of coordination. During one practice, Cassie had almost gotten suspended when she kicked the ball in Jenna Kowalski’s face after the other girl made a comment about me only being good enough to be a bench warmer. Jenna’s outraged wail and bloody nose should have been enough to get Cassie in serious trouble, but she had somehow charmed the coach into believing that it had been nothing more than an unfortunate accident.
I felt a hollow ache deep inside as I looked at the pictures of us in college. We had always planned on going to the same school, and had been ecstatic when we both got accepted to our first choice: the University of Michigan. We had spent the whole summer before our freshman year imagining what college life would be like. It had been everything we had dreamed of and more.
My chest constricted when my gaze settled on a picture of Logan and Cassie. They were on the steps of the student center with Cassie sitting between Logan’s legs. They looked like the perfect golden couple. Cassie’s face was vibrant with laughter, her brown eyes glowing with happiness and contentment. Logan had a wide smile on his face, and he looked carefree and relaxed. I keenly remembered that moment in time, since I had been the one to take the picture of them the beginning of our junior year.
“Take a picture of us!” Cassie said as she pushed her camera into my hands. The campus was teaming with students as we all took advantage of an unseasonably warm day at the end of September.
I watched as Cassie pulled Logan in front of the camera. “Let’s sit on the steps!” she suggested enthusiastically, and he obliged with a patient smile. They had only been dating for a few weeks, but their relationship had progressed at a fast and furious pace.
“Okay, ready?” I asked once Cassie had stopped fussing about how they should be posed. She was nestled in between Logan’s legs with his arms wrapped around her waist. He looked at me with a wry smile, as if he were sharing a joke with me about how carried away Cassie could become with taking a simple picture.
I had been shocked the first time he had come to our dorm room to pick up Cassie for a date. She had talked endlessly about a boy she had met at the school gym, and was ecstatic that he had asked her out on a date, although she admitted that she had really done the asking, and he had just agreed. The way she spoke about him, I had expected him to be a golden-haired Adonis. My shock wasn’t due to the fact that he was exactly as Cassie described him, but that he was also the boy I had been daydreaming about for over a week.
Our brief encounter at the bookstore had stayed with me, and for some reason I couldn’t get him out of my mind. I had admonished myself for getting so caught up in a guy’s good looks, but that didn’t stop me from thinking about him. Despite my preoccupation with him, with the vast number of students at the University of Michigan, I doubted I would ever run into him again.
I certainly didn’t expect him to be the boy Cassie had been talking about non-stop. I figured there were countless tall, blond-haired guys at our school and the chances of it being the same person never even entered my mind.
That explained why my mouth dropped open when Cassie opened our dorm room to reveal him standing there. He had recognized me with a surprised smile, but I was unable to do more than stammer out a halted greeting. I was glad I had never told Cassie about my encounter with him, and I was especially glad that I had never told her how he occupied my thoughts. Neither of us mentioned that we had met before, and I assumed he didn’t bring it up because it wasn’t significant to him.
I was relieved when they left for their date, and I had just chalked it up to coincidence. He was hot, but hot guys weren’t exactly a rarity at our school, and I told myself it was no big deal.
“Maddie!” Cassie waved her hand in the air, trying to get my attention. “Helloooo. Earth to Maddie.”
“Sorry,” I said with an embarrassed laugh. I raised the camera and snapped a couple of shots.
Cassie jumped up from the steps to take a look at the pictures I had taken. “Cute!” she squealed with a satisfied smile. Logan got up from the steps and ambled towards us, but didn’t seem interested in looking at the pictures. Cassie shoved the camera in his hands.
“Now take a picture of me and Maddie.”
I groaned, but followed her obligingly to the steps. Cassie had gotten the camera this past summer, and she had been obnoxious with her propensity to capture every moment of her life on film. I humored her good-naturedly, despite hating to have my picture taken.
Cassie threw her arm around my shoulders and we leaned into each other. “Smile!” she commanded through her own smile. “These are the pictures we’re going to look back at when we’re old and wrinkly. We’re not going to be hot forever, so the least you can do is smile so we have proof that we were once young and pretty.”
I laughed at her statement. It was typical Cassie to read so much more into a photo than just the capture of an image. I heard the shutter go off and frowned at Logan.
“I wasn’t ready,” I protested.
“It’s a good picture,” Logan reassured me. Cassie leapt off the steps to take a look and I followed behind her at a slower pace.
“I love it,” she exclaimed. She looked up at Logan coyly. “You got my best side.”
“Every side is your best side,” he commented with a laugh and a quick kiss. I averted my eyes and grabbed the camera. I was surprised that Logan was right. It was a good picture. Cassie was gazing straight into the camera and looked beautiful, as always, but he had caught me off guard. Usually, I looked too somber in pictures—hence Cassie’s instruction for me to smile. My dislike of having my picture taken seemed to translate into the actual image, despite my half-hearted attempts to smile.
But in this picture, I wasn’t aware of the camera. I was laughing and my green eyes seemed to dominate the photo. I looked relaxed and happy and much prettier than I imagined myself to be. Sure, I knew I was by no means an ogre, but in this picture I was a more beautiful and happier version of myself.
“Maybe you should change your major to photography,” I joked to Logan as I handed the camera back to Cassie. “You must have some magical skills to make me look halfway decent in a photo.”
“Shut it,” Cassie said with a poke in my ribs. “You’d be gorgeous in every picture if you just smiled in them.”
Logan shrugged. “Some people just translate better in photographs.” He gave me a slight smile. “And some people are too vibrant to be captured in a static image. There’s more to you than just a smile.”
Cassie smacked him on the arm, but she was laughing. “Keep your charm in your pants, Romeo. Maddie isn’t swayed by glib words. You’ll have to win over my best friend another way.”
He allowed himself to be dragged away towards the cafeteria, our original destination before we had been waylaid by Cassie’s insistence on taking a picture. I followed behind them, unsettled by his statement. I didn’t like the flicker of awareness his words had created. I shook my head, warning myself to not read too much into them. I had easily transitioned Logan from a crush to Cassie’s boyfriend. I needed to keep it that way.
Cassie turned her head to look at me and stopped walking. “Come on, slowpoke!”
When I had caught up to them, she linked my arm around her free one to make sure I didn’t fall behind. I told myself that my reaction to Logan’s words was a momentary lapse in judgment, nothing more.
“Madison.”
I jumped at the sound of my name, breaking out of my reverie. I turned to face Logan, who stood at the doorway watching me.
“I didn’t mean to take so long,” I said quickly, grabbing the lighter on her desk that I had noticed earlier. “Let’s go.”
Logan ignored me as he looked around Cassie’s bedroom. He took a tentative step in, as if he was reluctant to enter this eerie shrine.
“Not a thing out of place,” he commented softly. He walked over to me and glanced at the pictures tacked up on the corkboard. He had a slight smile on his face as he looked at the dozens of photos documenting Cassie’s short life. His gaze settled on the picture he had taken of me and Cassie on the steps of the student center, right next to the picture of him and Cassie.
“I remember this,” he said quietly. “It was the first time I realized how beautiful you were.”
“Stop,” I said, my voice trembling. “Not today. Especially not here.”
Logan’s face darkened, and his usual, easy countenance
disappeared. “Then when? Where?”
“Never,” I said emphatically, trying to get a rein on my emotions that were veering out of control. “There’s no reason to ever revisit the past.”
“We were young,” Logan said, ignoring my plea. “We never meant to hurt Cassie.” He gently but firmly grasped my arm when I turned away from him. “Maddie, we were just kids trying to figure out our feelings.”
“Shut up!” My control snapped, and the words tumbled out of me of their own accord. “I told you not to call me that. I also told you that I don’t want to discuss the past. We can’t be friends if you keep bringing it up. I thought you understood that!”
Logan’s hand dropped from my arm and his face turned as hard as granite. “I’ve stood by and pasted a damn smile on my face, trying to pretend that we could just be friends. I guess I hoped you would work through your issues, and recognize what’s staring us in the face. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. You obviously have no interest in dealing with the truth about what’s between us. In your own way, you’re living in as much of a fantasy world about our relationship as Mrs. Brooks is about Cassie’s death.”
His cruel words battered against my already-raw emotions, and it took everything I had not to scream at him.
“Fuck you.” My voice was low and the barely restrained rage was evident. “Don’t you ever compare me to Mrs. Brooks. I never asked you to be my friend. I didn’t beg you to be a part of my life. You’re the one who kept barging into my life, trying to convince me that you wanted nothing more than friendship. Well, you can renege on your offer of friendship, because I don’t want it anymore. It’s not my fault you lied about your true intentions.”
A part of me expected Logan’s face to crumple and for him to immediately apologize. We had never spoken so cruelly to each other, even when we had been uncharacteristically fighting last week, but as much as I wanted to take my ugly words back, my anger and hurt wouldn’t allow it.
His jaw clenched and his eyes looked more black than blue. “My pleasure,” he bit out. “I’m tired of playing the fool.”
