2003

Darkest Butterfly

Anomaly: Parts or the entirety of this event are no longer canonical

           On a cold Monday in January, Sadie Lorraine, who was finally starting to let the last pixie cut of her teen years grow to change things up at the end, had breakfast at her small home’s kitchen table as the sun struggled to rise. Eating her favorite cereal, she skimmed the paper’s comics section. On the chairs and sofa were three cats, with the gorgeous Himalayan named Bippy the senior among them. Halfway through her bowl, Sadie’s best friend Ash left the hallway bathroom, dressed in jeans and a denim vest.

           Other than her glasses and puffy hair, she hardly resembled the girl Sadie had known for nearly twelve years anymore. Ash’s twin brother Arthur still looked familiar by comparison. But her wit, attitude, and occasional nerdiness had persisted.

           “Sunday night sleepovers, right…?” Ash sighed, grabbing the box of Corn Pops and the milk carton to fill up her own bowl. “So weird. Doesn’t seem right that we have to go to school the next day. Ruins half the fun—sleeping in, and morning cartoons!”

           “Think of it more as a… stay at a sanctuary this time, Ash,” Sadie replied. “I’m sorry you and your parents are still fighting. I hope you can work it out tonight.”

           “Yeah, maybe, but I’m not hopeful there’s been enough of a cooling-off period. They just don’t see that UCLA or Berkeley aren’t the schools for me. I get them wanting me to stay close, like Arty’s going to, but Chicago has the specific program I’m after.”

           “Ash! You’ve always gotten your folks to see your side, eventually. It’ll work out! I’m sure your grades and extracurics could get you into any school you want, too.”

           “Here’s hoping.” Ash took a big bite of cereal, and after gulping it down added, “To be honest, I’ll always love RV, but I want to grow and get a change of scenery!”

           “Ash, dear, there’s nothing wrong with that, at all,” Sadie’s mom said as she came over with Ash’s backpack in hand, and put it in the empty chair next to her. “I’ll have a talk with your parents if you like, or if you don’t know where to start.”

           “Thanks, Mrs. L!” Ash replied gratefully, and inhaled the rest of her cereal. Once she could talk, she got up, grabbed her bag, and said, “I just remembered I need to get to school early and meet with the guidance counselor. I’m blocking Sadie in, anyway.”

           “Okay, Ash! See you soon!” Sadie called out after her departing, waving friend.

           On the way out, Ash gave Bippy’s head a few pats as he relaxed on an armchair.

           “Always in a rush these days. Sadie, we need to talk college, too,” her mom noted.

           “Mom, I have plenty of time! The semester just began. Ash is… an overachiever.”

           “J. You’re serious?” Ash said at the group cafeteria table later in the day, which was the one ‘class’ all eight friends shared together that semester. “You’re really trying to get us all together to see that Kangaroo Jack movie this weekend? It looks just… awful.”

           “We all know you like comedies, man, but let’s face it—they haven’t had a good track record the last few years,” her brother Arthur added after a bite of cheeseburger.

           “Hey, look, I just go to movies for a laugh,” Jared defended himself at the other end of the wooden circle. “Doesn’t matter how dumb it is. If I chuckle, it’s fine by me.”

           “Wes, what was that one website you were telling us about again?” Sadie asked him, and snapped her fingers to try and remember. “Like… Rotting Tomatoes, or…”

           “Rotten Tomatoes,” Wes replied chirpily, always happy to share his new finds. “Yeah, I was about to say, the movie’s score on there is loooow, Jared.”

           “January is usually the dumping ground for bad flicks. Just saying,” Colin said and nudged his glasses. He then hesitantly added, “… But on the other hand…”

           “Oh, no,” Celeste huffed. “Colin, the previews are all over TV; we’ve each seen them and we know how it looks. You’re not about to go along with this, right?”

           “I mean, sort of? Guys, we only just all started hanging out again. Even Zach is back!” He gestured to the cool kid in the group, who acknowledged the callout with a nod as he texted on his cell phone’s keypad. “And Arthur isn’t hanging out around those Click and Pyro… I’ll just call them dudes anymore. This might be the time to see a movie together, for the first time since… I don’t remember. I think that’s what J really wants.”

           “Uh… Y-yeah! That’s exactly it!” Jared said excitedly. “If it sucks, we make fun of it! And if the theater’s empty enough? Live commentary! Mystery Science Theater style!”

           “Sadie?” Ash looked up and asked her. “What’s your opinion on this crazy idea?”

           Sadie puffed out some air and replied with a bit of a grimace, “I mean, um… I do miss our big movie outings together. And it might be nice to have a little fun again.”

           Wes moaned. “High school has been really stressful this year. And me and Colin have actually been watching some bad B-movies recently, just to make fun of them.”

           “Argh, I can’t believe you guys are going to guilt-trip me into seeing this!” Celeste whined. “All right, fine. If all of you convince yourselves to go, I guess I will, too.”

           Ash smirked. “Wouldn’t want to see a bad movie without you there, too, Celly.”

           Zach looked up from his phone and asked them, “So, what are we planning?”

           “This class project will be due next Monday, everyone!” the older woman still teaching senior year social studies said over the noise of departing students following the final bell of the day. “I expect all three of you in each group to put in your fair share!”

           Wes, Sadie, and Ash, the only ones in their circle to share the class, left the beige and gray room and stepped out into one of the school’s open-air corridors, which was part of an extension complex to the main building and close to the parking lot.

           “What a weird group project,” Sadie remarked as she tried to adjust her terribly heavy backpack. “It’s just so vague, right? I mean… ‘Work together to find a similar experience outside the house all three of you had?’ And then, what, tell a story and compare the events? This feels like some social experiment, not group homework.”

           “I think I get what she’s going for, and it has to do with showing a trio how a relatable story can connect them… Or something,” Ash said. “I’m not looking forward to figuring that out with Portia of all people, but at least we’re together.”

           “What are you going to do, Wes?” Sadie asked him, and couldn’t help but add cheekily, “I really doubt the guys she put you with both also did the Toy Run as kids.”

           “Very funny, Sade,” Wes muttered. “I have done other things since then.”

           “Okay, okay—to be fair, I think you did finally stop bringing it up this year.”

           “No one in Steader ever gave a crap,” he sighed. “High school just… sucks the soul out of you. I stopped talking about the old days, because none of you seem to care about them anymore. Thing is, I haven’t really enjoyed much of anything since Cookton.”

           “Wes! C’mon, buddy, you’re being dramatic!” Ash prodded him with her elbow. “Or, maybe not, now that I think about it. You just have to change your point of view!”

           “Ash, I’ve tried,” Sadie whispered to her. “He’s just been in a rut the last couple years.”

           They stopped briefly when they hit sunlight, where Wes would split off towards the bus loop and Ash wished him well by saying, “Cheer up, Wes! We’re all going to a movie this weekend, remember? We can still have fun, and I’m sure it’ll be… okay?”

           Wes gave her a mild, unoffended scowl and replied, “Sure, Ash. We’ll see if the plan doesn’t fall apart before then, like they usually have for a while now.”

           “Wes, don’t be like that,” Sadie chided him. “We’re not little kids anymore; we all have busier lives and things come up. You should just be glad if anyone joins you.”

           He rolled his eyes and walked off, with Ash shouting, “I’ll try to be there, Wes!”

           “Do you think I’m too hard on him sometimes?” Sadie asked Ash as they headed towards their parked used cars, both of them gifts from parents. “I’m only trying to tell him how things are now, and that he should manage expectations…”

           “He just wants to live in the past,” Ash said and took her keys out. “I just know the idea of us ‘breaking apart’ by going to different colleges has him feeling down.”

           “I mean… I might stay local and just go to Royal U. myself. That’s the only place he seems interested in. Guy’s never shown any desire to leave town, for sure.”

           “Hey, Ash!” Arthur shouted from across the busy lot and over the noise of other seniors and juniors. “Don’t forget to let me park first this time, so I don’t have to get up early and let you out! Just don’t race home for once and get ahead of me—easy!”

           “Bro, it’s not a race!” she yelled back. “Not my fault you don’t care about all those sweet extracurriculars! Going over to Sadie’s today, anyway! Group project!”

           Arthur just gave her a “yeah, whatever” gesture, and got into his old red Dodge Charger with a noisy engine. A few spots away, Celeste waved to her girlfriends, then climbed into her dad’s hand-me-down black pickup truck and took off before the exit queue to the road got too long. Sadie’s little sky-blue coupe and Ash’s orange compact sedan were parked together, their colors contrasting yet complementing each other.

           “I’ll be over soon and we’ll get a jump on this thing,” Ash said over her car roof. “Portia’s a procrastinator, but I figure if we write down a dozen or so similar stories of our own, maybe she’ll have something that matches up to one of them?”

           “Sure, sounds good,” Sadie replied and unlocked her door. “She said they can’t be an experience we shared together, though, so… Geez, that makes it hard, doesn’t it?”

           Ash grinned. “Hey, we’ll figure it out. We aren’t tied to the hip, you know!”

           Sadie smiled, gave her bestie a wave, and slipped into her car. After tossing her backpack on the passenger seat and starting the engine, the next song on the loaded CD played, and she thumped the steering wheel to some Snoop Dogg as she headed out.

           Ash missed the three o’clock planning session they had agreed upon.

           Sadie, sprawled on her living room couch and waiting, took out her flip phone to check both the time and any missed text messages. Twenty minutes late, and nothing.

           “Honey?” her mom said after coming in from the hallway. “You okay?”

           “Y-yeah, Mom. I’m just… Ash isn’t picking up, and when I try her house phone, there’s been a busy signal for a while now. It’s not like her to be late.”

           “Maybe one of you misheard where you’re meeting? Or the time? Or something just came up? Ash may not be late that often, but she is pretty busy these days.”

           Sadie jolted up on the couch with a huff. “She’s probably just waiting for me to show up, and I’m the jerk. I think I’ll go over and see what’s up, since it’s a short drive.”

           “Sure, dear. If you stay over, be back by six for dinner, would you?”

           “Yup,” Sadie replied, then got up and grabbed her keys hanging by the door.

           The moment she touched the handle, the house’s wall phone rang. Already right by it, Mrs. Lorraine picked it up before the first ring ended, answering, “Hello? Oh, hi, Mrs. Vogel. Yes, she’s here… Are… are you okay? You sound upset. What’s… Is Celly okay? Slow down, tell me… What? N-no, what did you just say? Hold on, no, that can’t be right. She wouldn’t just… Oh. Oh my God, no… There has to be a mistake.”

           “M-Mom?” Sadie squeaked out fearfully as ice pumped into her veins after she saw her lip trembling and she raised a hand to cover her mouth. “Is… Is Celeste okay?”

           “No, I don’t understand what… That can’t be… H-hello? Are you there? Hello?” She messily hung up the phone, missing the mount twice first. With focused, sharp eyes that frightened Sadie, she forcefully choked out, “Sweetheart… T-there’s… There’s, ah…” She closed her eyes and shook her head in an effort to compose herself, cruelly delaying the news as Sadie felt tears forming. “Honey, Celeste is all right, but on the way home, she… she passed by that one major intersection in the neighborhood, with the lights? The police were directing traffic around a bad accident, and… Oh, God, I’m so sorry, honey. Celeste was too upset to say much, but it… it was Ash’s car.”

           “What…?” Sadie murmured just above a whisper. “That… that’s not possible.”

           “Baby girl, I need you to listen to me.” She came over and put Sadie into a bear hug. “I don’t think… I don’t think we’re going to get good news. Celeste’s neighbor saw the scene from her house, and there was an ambulance, but its lights… Its lights never…”

           “No. No. Mm-mm. No!” Sadie began screaming into her mother’s warm sweater, shook her head, and tried to free herself. “There’s no way. N-no, there’s no way! Please!”

           “I know, Sadie. I know. Shh,” her mom tried to comfort her as she rocked her daughter gently. “You shouldn’t have to experience this. Oh, God, watch over the Tellers…”

           The rest of the day was surreal, and unlike any Sadie had ever known before. It had to be a dream, a nightmare, or some alternate version of reality, she hoped. Worst case, Ash would be fine. She’d pull through at the hospital, at worst having some broken bones. There had been a miscommunication, wrong assumptions, anything. Please, anything but that, she had thought blankly. We’ve all been friends forever. We aren’t meant to know this.

           She barely spoke. She called nobody, and nobody called her, or the house. Surely the others must’ve heard by now. Are we all hurting, worrying, or cowering in our own little worlds? Am I a horrible friend for not trying to reach out? I can’t. I just can’t do it. The phone is an enemy.

           Then, finally, it hit the seven o’clock local news. As she sat buried in her knees between her parents, the first story of the night opened with a clip of an orange sedan being loaded onto a tow truck. It was badly crumpled, the glass was all broken, and the airbags had deployed… but there was no denying who owned it. For his daughter’s sake, Sadie’s dad kept the TV muted—yet it did nothing to quiet the two words that stood out below the footage. “Fatal” and “crash.” In Desert Tree of all places, to an occupant still too young to have her name revealed publicly. Sadie felt herself fall into a deep void.

           She stood as the minute-long story ended, and the aging faces of Larry and Kelly appeared on the screen again as the anchors did their best to appear respectful.

           She didn’t consciously leave the room, but did just the same. She felt her parents reach out for her, and say her name, but the words never reached her ears. Feeling numb and listless, she went into her bedroom, closed the door, and curled up into her bed. She moved again a minute later to reach up and take an old cute panda plushie off the shelf above her headboard, wrapped her arms around it, and didn’t move again.

           At one point, her mom came in, softly sat at the side of her bed, and stroked her hair while offering words of comfort, but they couldn’t breach an invisible wall, either.

           Eventually, she somehow fell asleep, but didn’t remember doing so. And for some inexplicable reason, the world moved on and the sun rose onto a new day.

           Sadie didn’t go to school that next day, nor the rest of the week, and one of the few solid thoughts she had in her stupor and through the blur of that time was, I bet the others are staying home, too. What’s even the point of school anymore? The impossible happened.

           On Saturday, her mom drove her to the park she visited with friends often.

           She felt coerced, but not quite forced, and it took sheer power of will and some urge to see sunlight again to make her even step out of the house. She heard something about “needing to see your friends,” and that her mom “spoke with the others’ parents.”

           Even despite such efforts, Sadie was surprised that of everyone in their circle, the only others that had managed to find the strength to come out were Celeste and Colin.

           The two sat on swings as their mothers met and spoke quietly in the parking lot of the otherwise empty park. No one could find the words at first. It was obvious that her friends had been crying, and when she showed up and her emotions broke through the dam, their tears began flowing again as well. Sadie could only hug Celeste and Colin at first; words were as impossible and unthinkable as the situation itself.

           Struggling to endure the first stages of grief past the feelings of nothingness and shock, they wandered around in the sun dappled shade of the trees, eventually ending up on the creaky, rusty old merry-go-around together, where they could sit apart and keep from easily and accidentally looking into one another’s eyes. It swayed only lightly.

           “It just…” Celeste was the first who managed to choke out a word. “It doesn’t feel real. I don’t get how this could happen… In the neighborhood, where the speed limit is so low in most places… Someone m-make it… Make it make sense.”

           “Celeste…” Colin murmured quietly. “It happened at that big intersection right in the middle of the suburb—one of the few with lights, where the limit’s 35 on both roads… I-I heard the other guy was speeding, but… But Ash… She… I can’t say it.”

           With Colin on the verge of tears again, Sadie found his hand and squeezed it.

           “Have you guys… heard anything about the others? Are they holding up?” she asked. “I… I can’t imagine what Arthur’s feeling, but… I’m worried about Wes, too.”

           Celeste sucked up the snot in her nose, and after a trembling exhale, replied, “I tried, Sade—I really did, to check on everyone. Jared came to the door and told me he was ‘okay,’ but needed to be left alone. Zach actually let me inside, and we tried to talk, but I left before he said a single word. Wes… Wes wouldn’t see me. His mom talked to me, though… She tried to comfort me, because she can’t even get through to him right now.” A sob mixed in with a faint, nervous laugh. “Me, needing… hugs…”

           Sadie reached over and gave Celly a sideways embrace, crying into her shoulder. “I can’t believe she’s actually gone,” she whimpered. “I had just talked to her… Why…?”

           Any words unfeasible, Celeste shook her head and finished before the question could be raised by adding, “I… I walked over to the Teller house, too. Just to clear my head, and stretch it out, you know? But when I got there, I… couldn’t even cross the street. All their curtains and blinds were drawn. What could I have possibly done? Gone up, knocked, and asked how Arthur’s doing? There was no way to even imagine that.”

           “How am I supposed to…” Colin murmured. “I can’t even breathe sometimes if I start thinking about it. How was she here last weekend, and tomorrow, we’re supposed to… I mean, what? See her parents and Arthur, and all the others, and say goodbye? My parents told me I need to do it for her, for a friend, but I don’t know if I can…”

           “My dad said the same thing,” Sadie replied above a whisper. “That I’d regret it later otherwise. He even told me a story I’d never heard before, too. He had a childhood friend he doesn’t talk about, who… who died when they were our age. He said going to the service made him feel worse at first, but in the long run, he thinks it really helped.”

           “It’s just a bunch of shit!” Celeste suddenly spat out the rage she’d been holding back. “Ash had an entire life with us, and the news reduces her to a one-minute story that just talked about the accident, like that’s all that’ll define her! Just, what the hell?!”

           “Celly…” Sadie turned to her, and could only think to give her another hug—but this time she resisted and pulled back angrily before getting up. “Celeste, we all hurt.”

           “I can’t do this anymore! I hate whatever asshole rammed into her! I hate him!”

           She stomped off towards her mom, who had overheard her and was ready to hug her too, take her home, or just listen. Celly ended up going right past her and continuing down the block without a word as Sadie and Colin watched from the merry-go-round.

           “Is she just going to…” Colin said with a dry throat. “It’s two miles to her house.”

           “I think we can all only do… what little we can for ourselves, Colin.”

           “The group was just getting back together again, and now… What happens to us?”

           Not having it in her to lie, Sadie could answer, “I don’t know.”

           Sadie had never been to a funeral before. She’d only ever seen them in movies or on TV, where they were often had outside on an overcast or rainy day. For some reason, while it did happen in a cemetery, it was a warm, clear day. The perfect weather felt like a mocking affront to Ash. The weather should match everyone’s moods, she thought. This is wrong.

           She only owned a single dress, and it was for formal occasions; Celeste had none at all. To appear “proper” and adhere to what were trivial social norms in the girls’ eyes, a pair of black dresses were rented out for the solemn occasion. Sadie couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen Celly wearing one. First grade, maybe? She tried not to look at the other surviving girl of the friend group out of respect, but then again, she tried not to really look at anyone, whether they be friend, parents, or the man from the twins’ parents’ church quoting scripture from behind a birchwood coffin with a flower wreath.

           He spoke in verses and of things Sadie had heard in passing before, mostly from services depicted in media, but to hear these words in real life felt so very strange. As far as Sadie knew—and she knew her friends quite well—none of them had been raised all that religiously, if at all. She couldn’t remember a time one of them mentioned anything that had happened in a church, and they hardly ever talked about matters of belief or spiritualism. But these were just passing thoughts and observations, as for the most part, Sadie was keeping her mind blank. It hurt too much to think, or recollect.

           Halfway through a service that had an ambience of sniffles and stifled sobs, she managed to look up. A lovely portrait of Ash smiling, taken the year prior, rested on a stand nearby. She averted her gaze, and looked over at her surviving family instead. The twins’ father silently held his inconsolable wife’s white-gloved hand. In the row behind them were aunts and uncles, three grandparents, and five of the twins’ cousins, none of whom Sadie had met. They were all able to rush out here on such short notice.

           What if it was me? Sadie morbidly considered, but felt no fear from her thoughts. Who would be able to make it within a week? What might they say about me? Would Wes…

           Without looking too closely at Arthur, her eyes moved to another cluster of seats, where her friends and some of their parents sat. Jared, Zach, and Celeste couldn’t look up from the ground. Colin grieved in what some would call a “proper way,” by sobbing into a tissue between his parents. But Wes… Wes had it the worst. He seemed… broken.

           His dad was missing, but he sat between his mom and his year-younger half-sister Lucy. His eyes had an emptiness that hid all feeling, he stared into space ahead, and was so still. Perhaps sensing that he could even be worrying about his own sister, Lucy leaned against his shoulder. And, finally, Sadie mustered up the courage to look at Arthur.

           She wished she hadn’t, but she could admit one thing: it was a beautiful service.

           “Sadie. Sweetheart. You have to eat something,” Mrs. Lorraine said in her open doorway several hours into the evening. “I’ll make whatever you want me to and bring it over on a tray. But you can’t lie here in the dark on an empty stomach all night.”

           Sadie, curled up on top of her messy blankets in her pajamas and facing the wall, replied with a hoarse, dry voice, “Mom, please just leave me alone. I can’t eat. And I’m not ready to go back to school tomorrow. There’s… no way I could face everyone.”

           Her mom sighed heavily, then came over and gently sat on the side of the bed where she stroked her soon-to-be adult daughter’s short but growing hair.

           “I won’t lie. It’ll be tough. People won’t know what to say to you for a while, or might seem like they’re trying too hard to be nice. But you and your friends weren’t the only ones who… lost her. She was liked, and knew a lot of other students. But you can’t hide from the world, or shut down. It’s cliché, but we need to push ahead and take care of ourselves, because loved ones that are no longer here… They’d be sad if we didn’t keep going—if that pain caused by what happened lingers too long. We have to be able to feel hope. You hurt this badly because of how much she meant to you, but you keep the memories. Grief is the tax we pay to know love. Yet taxes are small by comparison.”

           Sadie huffed out in agitation. “Thanks, Mom, but you’re an accountant—not a therapist. Which… is someone I might be open to seeing.” She rolled over, and just to be alone again, made a request. “Fine… I’ll have a… warm chicken gyro, I guess.”

           Her mom smiled, patted her on the shoulder, and left the room. Bippy came in right afterwards to replace her, but Sadie didn’t mind nearly as much. His elderly bones got him onto the bed, and he curled up next to her for petting and quiet purrs.

           “Hey, Bips…” Sadie murmured as she gently stroked his head and thought of Wes’ dog Tiger. “You poor old cat. Got no idea what’s coming, do you…?”

           He stayed at her side for a few minutes, and then spontaneously got up and leapt off the bed as cats do. She watched him in the dim light a little longer, and something suddenly attracted his gaze. He ran up to Sadie’s dresser, and started pawing at some unseen thing that was in the empty space between the floor and the bottom drawer. It sounded like something metallic was scraping on the old linoleum floor. Curious, Sadie sluggishly got out of bed, shuffled over, and knelt down to see what he had discovered.

           “What the heck…?” she whispered and picked it up. “Where’d this come from?”

           Feeling tired and miserable, Sadie stepped off the school bus Monday morning, after having not ridden on it for nearly a year. It was just as bumpy as she remembered.

           “… Sadie?” Wes said quietly as he stood in the busy unloading area, where he’d been placidly gazing at the school. “I didn’t know… I didn’t see you get on today.”

           “Yeah, I, um… I don’t really feel like driving myself right now,” she said meekly.

           “That makes sense.” He closed his eyes and breathed. “I don’t want to be here.”

           “Me, neither. I already see other students looking at me as they walk by. And I’m sure all the teachers… of the classes we shared… They’ll treat me different.”

           The two kept by the bus for several more uncomfortable moments, both unable or unwilling to move. Finally, Wes muttered faintly, “Should we walk to homeroom?”

           “Yeah… Guess so.” Once they were slowly making their way to class and trying to avoid eye contact with each other and all their peers, Sadie timidly observed, “I didn’t know what to expect. It feels like any other morning. Maybe some of those she shared a class with look a little more… pensive? But otherwise… It’s been a week, and already…”

           “It’s always the same. Most people just move on so quickly. And meanwhile, I keep trying to call Zach and Jared, just to talk to them about anything, and they never even picked up. At least Colin did. I know he’s hurting, too, but he always listens.”

           “Wes… I’m not even sure what I’m doing here. It doesn’t feel like anything has a point anymore. I don’t care about my grades, or college, or hanging out… Nothing.”

           “My mom says that will slowly go away once you get back into ‘routines,’ but… We were all so close. I mean, at least when we were kids.” They stopped outside the door to their homeroom, and Sadie noticed how heavy Wes’ backpack seemed on his shoulders. “Sadie, uh… You guys know I have a really good memory. And all last week, I just kept thinking about so many things we did with Ash in the past, and I couldn’t get myself to stop.” In his misery, he slapped the top of his head and choked out, “I don’t want to think about her right now, or all of us together, but the thoughts just won’t…”

           “Oh, Wes,” Sadie mumbled out, and couldn’t keep herself from hugging the boy she’d known since kindergarten, who had grown so much as a teenager yet was still a few inches shorter than her. “I know. Nothing our parents are saying is helping.”

           “Sadie, please, not in front of everyone! They’re staring! Pleeeease, let go…”

           She did so, but replied, “Let them. I don’t care. I feel like this is all I can do.”

           In the cafeteria, Sadie skipped the lines and went right to the usual table where she and her friends had been sitting since late junior year. She was the first to arrive, but wouldn’t have been surprised if everyone needed space and ate elsewhere today.

           She took out from her lunchbox a thermos that had kept some of her mom’s homemade comfort food warm, and used the spoon to start eating some chicken noodle soup right out of the round metal container. Also in the box was a bottle of apple juice, her favorite drink when she was a kid, and a chocolate chip cookie.

           “Hey…” Celeste surprised her and took a seat on the opposite side, where she put her arms up and used them as a pillow. “Are you… managing?” she wondered.

           “No. Not really,” Sadie replied honestly. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

           Celeste shrugged. “Not really hungry. I dunno. Maybe just a bite, later.” She watched as Sadie slurped at her soup very quietly for a few moments. “So, I… skipped my first class this morning. But, I mean, we’re allowed to if we want to see the special counselor that’s at the school right now. Grief counselor, I guess…”

           “You did that? God, Celly. You’ve always been, you know… the ‘tough’ one?”

           “Not around something like this. Well, to be honest, my parents insisted on it, especially since there’s no cost or anything. Telling me I might regret not trying it… And maybe it helped? I can’t tell yet. I just let it all out, said what was on my mind, let myself get mad… There’s no rush if you want to look into it. She’ll be here for two weeks.”

           Sadie had no idea what to say about the suggestion, so she looked around the room instead as students sat with their trays. Colin and Wes were together at a table by themselves, and Jared was totally alone and staring into his food as he took small bites.

           Seeing her observing everything, Celeste said, “Apparently, Zach kept coming to school, and he’s just been grabbing pizza slices from the stall and eating them out by the field bleachers. That’s probably where he is again today. He’s… as distant as the others.”

           After another quiet beat, Sadie put down her thermos, and took the small metal thing out of her jacket pocket. She put it on the table and slid it over for Celly to see.

           “What’s this?” Celeste asked and studied it. “A ladybug button? Wait… Ash used to wear this, didn’t she? I remember her being upset when she lost it in middle school.”

           “It must’ve fallen off at an old sleepover or something. Bippy was playing with it. I… I think I’m going to give it to Arthur. Or just use it as an excuse to go over there.”

           Celeste put the button back down and pushed it over to Sadie. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Sade. Did you see Arthur at the… He looked… abyssal.”

           “Celly, we can’t just give up on him, or let him suffer all by himself. This is the exact kind of moment when friends need to come together and take care of each other. I get needing space for a while, but it can’t last too long, or we’ll drift apart again. Maybe further this time. Maybe, with college coming up… for good. We can’t leave high school on a note like this… right? There’s still prom, and things to do. I don’t want us…”

           Sadie realized she was pushing too hard when she saw Celeste shut down and cradle herself with her arms. She went back to eating in silence, and after a minute or so went by, another girl walked up to the table and stood there awkwardly. The two looked over to see Millie Vanbusen, still wearing a gray hoodie after all these years. What had it been since her last meaningful interaction with them? Not since fifth grade, if that?

           “Sadie… Celeste…” Millie said as she held her lunch tray. “I just, um… I know we were never really friends, but I wanted to say how sorry I am about Ash. I’ve been thinking about her since… it happened. Could I ask your opinion on something?”

           “Sure, Millie,” Sadie sighed. “And, thanks.”

           “I’m not sure if this is just too creepy, or intrusive, or weird, but I was thinking of turning over my old notebook on the twins to Arthur? I made observations about both of them at the same time in the fourth grade, and, like… There’s nothing that bad in there. Maybe it’ll just hurt him more, but it could also bring back happy memories?”

           Sadie and Celeste looked at each other, and Sadie replied thoughtfully, “What if you let me see it first? Just to check it out and make a decision? I know him, as a friend, a lot better than you do. I remember how secretive you were about your notes, but…”

           Millie just stared at her for a solid ten seconds, but eventually whispered, “Okay.”

           The pit in Sadie’s stomach grew larger after she had stayed on the bus at the stop for her house. All her nerves had yelled at her to get off, even while her heart remained determined to do something, anything to keep the friends together, no matter how much her next conversation might sting. Wes had always tried his hardest to keep them all tied together, but right now, in this bizarre, cruel, and unexpected moment, he was just too damaged as a person to do it anymore—even though Sadie was only a little less so.

           At the very next stop, she got off and walked the single remaining block to the Teller household. She’d been there countless times growing up. It had always been a noisy place, where the twins once yelled excitedly, or after they’d calmed down, usually had on a video game or Ash’s favorite albums. Their dad would tell lame jokes and blast the TV because his hearing wasn’t the greatest, while their mom worked out to bad exercise tapes from the 80s. Now, it was quiet, and its curtains still blocked daylight.

           Swallowing her fears, Sadie stepped up to the door and knocked. She waited, and rang the doorbell. A few more seconds passed, and she saw the nearest curtain move in the corner of her eye. After another moment, she heard a chain come off a slider, and then the deadbolt unlocked. Mrs. Teller, still wearing all black, cracked open the door.

           “Sadie, honey. What are… what are you doing here?” she asked quietly.

           “H-hi, Mrs. Teller. I… I, well… Could I talk to Arthur? Please?”

           “Arthur. Yes… I mean, I’m sorry, but he isn’t… He isn’t doing so great.”

           “I completely understand, but everyone’s really worried about him, and I… Could you maybe just tell him I’m here? I promise, I’ll be really patient, and kind.”

           “All right,” she sighed and nodded shakily. “But if he’s okay with talking to you, I think it should be in the backyard. The house is… You shouldn’t see it right now. And, Sadie? I’m sorry I didn’t talk to any of you at the… the service. Perhaps I should have. You all must be in almost as much pain as we are, and Ash was your dear friend.”

           “No, it’s okay. I think we all need to take things at our own pace.”

           Arthur’s mom nodded again, and closed the door. Sadie stood in place, waiting outside for five long minutes, and not expecting to get a response. Just as she was about to walk away, Mrs. Teller opened the door once more and said, “He’s in the back.”

           Surprised by this, Sadie could feel herself starting to tremble, and the journey into the side yard and through the Tellers’ wooden gate became an arduous one. One of the many places where they’d played with water guns as kids already looked neglected and overgrown, even after only a week. And there, sitting in the shade of a large tree on his family’s faded white swinging bench by himself, was Arthur. He looked up at Sadie as she approached. His eyes were dark, and it looked like he’d barely been eating.

           The emotions coming on hard and fast, Sadie teared up and breathed out, “Arty.”

           He barely moved, only staring back down at the grass. She gently sat beside him.

           She didn’t try to push anything out of him; she merely wanted him to know that she was there. If he went back inside without saying a word, she’d be fine with that.

           Finally, after several minutes, he said barely audibly, “I… I keep repeating the last words I said to her… They weren’t mean, but they weren’t thoughtful or caring, either. I guess they were just nothing. Nothing poetic, nothing to pick apart… We probably said a few million words to each other over our lives, and my last ones were… nothing.”

           “Arthur. We… don’t always get to decide.”

           “Please, Sadie, don’t just give me empty platitudes. I’ve been hearing them from my extended family all week. But none of them know this pain. I don’t think I’ve even really felt it yet. So much of the real support went to my parents, and me… It’s like no one even knows what to say. Does anyone even care if you lose a sibling? What about a sister that’s been there your entire life? Not really. And now Wes is the only one of us who still has one. She… she was my twin, Sadie… My soul feels ripped in half…”

           “I’m here. Whatever you want to say, I’ll listen. You’re right that I can’t fully understand what you’re going through, but I’m going to stick around after your family all goes back to their homes. I can never replace Ash, but I won’t abandon you, Arty.”

           “Abandon me? Sadie, we’re all going to go our separate ways for college, and then what? Live our separate lives? While Ash stays here, forever? It’s over between all of us.”

           “Please don’t say that. There’s no reason for the rest of us to break apart. We’re lifelong friends. We’ll call each other on weekends, and on our birthdays, and…”

           “And then it becomes every other weekend, and once a month, and so on. Just because we grew up in Royal Valley together doesn’t mean we’ll still be important to each other when we’re adults. For all I know, even me and Ash could’ve stopped talking to each other in a few years. That’s what the real world is—decay and separation. We don’t know why we make the friends we do as kids, but it doesn’t matter because we all say goodbye one day without realizing it. Life moves on, and memories slip away.”

           “No. Not us. We were always so close. It’ll be different. Please, Arty, don’t drive us away, or hide. You’re all I have left of my best friend. So much of her is in you.”

           “I’m sorry, Sadie. I don’t want to come off sounding like that, but I think it’ll end up being true, anyway.” He calmed down and sighed. After another minute, he said in a different, more somber tone, “The guy who hit her came to the house a few days ago.”

           At a loss for words, Sadie could only murmur in response, “That… happened?”

           “I stayed in my room the whole time. I’m not sure how he found us. There was a knock at the door… Mom answered it, and then Dad went over after she got upset and started yelling at him to stay away from us. He went on about ‘guilt destroying him.’ She was alone and scared at the end, but he can still walk? If he stayed a little longer, I don’t think I could’ve stopped myself from going out and… He should be in jail. I don’t care what they say about Ash going into the intersection without looking. I’ll never blame her, and he was still speeding. He’s garbage. Nothing more. If he comes by again, I swear I…”

           “Arthur, please, don’t talk like that!” Sadie urged him and held his hands tightly. “I know you’re in terrible pain, but this isn’t you—it’s never been you! I would hate to see this change you so much, or kill you inside. You can still be who you always were, and our friend. Please…” she choked out tearfully, “come back to us. Just… come back.”

           He stared at her, and muttered out, “All I can think about now is how I’ll lose someone else, or that I’m ‘next.’ This will never make sense, so why should anything?”

           “You aren’t next. It was just a terrible, random accident. That’s all. There wasn’t anything you could’ve done, or seen coming, but you can still live for her and yourself.” Barely holding onto her composure, Sadie finally took out the memento in her pocket, and handed it to a dear friend. “This was Ash’s. She lost it at my house years ago.”

           Arthur studied the object in his hand and said coldly, “Her old ladybug button? What’s this supposed to do for me, Sadie? Don’t you think her closed bedroom is full of her things? One day, I’ll come home to find it emptied out because my parents…” he trailed off when Sadie suddenly hugged him tightly and cried into his shoulder.

           “Please… shut up and let me help you. I-I d-don’t know what else to do… I feel so weak and useless, no matter how hard I try. I just want us all to hold on somehow.”

           He accepted the hug, but didn’t shed any tears; Sadie had no way of telling if he was out of them, or refused to, or simply couldn’t. Arthur was so far removed from the boy she’d grown up with who kept time, records, and photographs of their group.

           “Sadie. You guys meant so much to me,” he said quietly. “But I can’t. Let me go.”

           Unable to do anything other than relent for his sake, she broke away and replied with a weak, trembling smile, “We’re here for you forever, Arthur. Don’t give up on us.”

           Taking the button, he got up and turned around. “I won’t. But the past is dead.”

           Those words stuck with Sadie over the weeks that followed. She dared not tell her friends exactly how the meeting went, only saying that he was “going through a lot.”

           The days went by in a haze, and life for everyone else except those who loved Ash went back to normal sooner than expected. Numbness remained in each of them, and for the group, school became more of a distraction than a necessity; a way to keep their minds occupied and feeling like they were achieving anything at all, but little else.

           Towards the end of February, Sadie was practically dragged out to an event she used to love, but now felt nothing but apathy for. Her parents insisted she attend, and given that she would expectedly be in college during the next one, odds were it could be the last time she ever went—even if she chose to stay local and go to Royal University.

           The annual Desert Tree Neighborhood Picnic, held in the suburb’s largest park at the midway point between the elementary schools, was a beloved and old tradition that existed since the neighborhood opened in 1960. With Sadie’s mom contributing chocolate chip cookies to the food table and her dad still on the organizing committee after all these years, she knew it was always going to be an uphill battle when it came to trying to stay at home. She’d hoped for a rainout, but unfortunately, all she got was another clear, cool, beautiful day full of happy, noisy children that was wasted on her.

           As Sadie stayed on a low foldout chair with her knees up to her chin, her mom enjoyed a cup of soda with a neighbor’s lovingly-prepared chicken salad sandwich. She tried her hardest to not feel anything at all. Any sense of joy or togetherness would somehow be a betrayal to Ash. How or why, she didn’t know, but it was surely true.

           “Sadie, I really wish you’d eat something,” her mother said softly. “There were always so many homemade things here you looked forward to trying, since you only ever got to taste them once a year. I hate seeing you like this, sweetheart.” After she got only silence as a response, she quietly lamented, “You’re coming up on the big final months of high school. Your entire childhood has led up to this period in your life.”

           “I’m aware of that. I’m still on the yearbook team, Mom…”

           “Y-yes, I know. I’m happy that you get to help make something that’ll last. So many memories and friendships to look back on… I still have my senior year yearbook.”

           “They wouldn’t even let me quit, remember? What choice do I have?”

           “It’s a piece of good you can bring to the world. You’re capable of so much of it.”

           Sadie buried her face in her knees and grumbled out, “Mom, they want me to make some kind of memorial page for Ash. I guess they expect me to find pictures for them to scan or something. The rest of the team asked me with all these smiles, like it’s just another special section. No one else other than us acts like she’s gone anymore, and meanwhile, Arthur will probably never return to school or go to prom…”

           Her mom reached over, put a hand on her back, and said sympathetically, “Sadie, I know it seems that way, but you can’t blame people for trying to move on with their lives or go through grief’s stages more quickly. You knew Ash since you were little, so of course you’re going to hurt longer and more intensely. But don’t you think you’re the best choice to make a memorial page for her? It’s a keepsake—more than most people get.”

           Sadie looked back up at her mom with familiar tears in her eyes. “Is that all she’ll ever be now? The girl who didn’t make it? All I can think about are the things she won’t get to do. O-or how our friendship was… I mean, was there even a point to it?”

           “As much as there can be a ‘point’ to anything, honey. People are always coming into and leaving our lives. Sometimes… more suddenly than we’d like. But you still have your own to live, and so much yet to experience… So, I hope you’ll go to prom. Even if none of your friends do. And, please, let me get you some birthday presents.”

           “I said I don’t want any! God!” Sadie snapped, and awkwardly wobbled out of the chair until she was standing on her feet. “You know what, fine, I’ll find something to eat if it gets me away from your life lessons for a minute! You say all these things, but you never lived this! But… Dad did. I think… I’d like to only talk about this with him for a while, okay? I get why you’re trying, but I don’t need any more of this… cliché… stuff.”

           “Sadie, I…” Mrs. Lorraine looked hurt, but relented. “I understand. I’ll always be here for a quiet hug, if you want one. I’m sorry if I’ve been pushing too hard.”

           “Mom, it’s okay. Just give me a little space. Should I bring you anything?”

           “Hm… Maybe one of the cookies I made wouldn’t hurt. They came out well.”

           Sadie gave her mom a subtle nod, and headed off on her legs that felt a little weaker than usual, given all the time she’d been spending in bed. She passed by content picnickers as music from a local band filled the big greenspace, and reached the big old trees that existed before Desert Tree, which provided shade to the buffet table and those in line for seconds or thirds. Shortly after Sadie arrived, so did someone else.

           “Sadie?” Celeste murmured behind her, and she turned to see her, Wes, and Colin, all holding empty plastic plates. Celly somehow managed a feeble smile. “Hi. Our parents managed to get us to come after all. We figured yours would, too.”

           “Hey,” Sadie replied weakly. “It’s… been a while since we’ve seen each other out of school, hasn’t it?” They all stepped forward in line. “I’m sorry, guys. I really wanted to try harder, but after the thing with Arthur, I… Maybe I sort of ‘gave up.’”

           “Sadie, we just needed time to ourselves, I think,” Colin tried to reason. “We all know Arty’s having it the hardest. Besides… we need to get used to seeing each other again before your birthday, or that’s just going to be really awkward, you know?”

           “Guys, no,” Sadie huffed. “I’m not having a party this year. It would feel wrong.”

           “Then don’t have one,” Celeste said. “We’ll just get food, see a movie, and give you presents. It’s the last one you’re getting in high school, Sade. We have to.”

           “But Zach and Jared are having it even worse than we are. We can’t make them show up, and without them, and Arthur… is there even a point? Wes? You okay?”

           He was still obviously very downcast, but managed to whisper, “You’re right that we can’t force the others, but, Sadie… The three of us want to do it, for you. Even if it hurts and feels incomplete… We can’t let this define the rest of our last year together.”

           Sadie could no longer find the words, and as her dad took the performance stage to thank sponsors and everyone’s hard work, she stepped up again. She wanted to reach out and hug her friends, and felt guilty for not agreeing to a get-together right away. But she at least had the excuse of holding a plate in her hand that was about to be filled.

           With friends nearby, she found the strength to reach out and bear the weight of more comfort food, given to her by a volunteer. It was shepherd’s pie. Ash’s favorite.

           That night, Sadie changed into her pajamas and went to bed early again. But this time, snuggled between Bippy and her stuffed panda, it felt like the smallest of burdens had been lifted off her shoulders, and she wasn’t quite as tired. But it was just a start, for someone who might still find a way to move on when it first felt so impossible.

           Her phone vibrated on her nightstand. She messily grabbed it and flipped it open to see a text message from Celeste on the bright tiny screen, reading, “Bday plan tmrw?”

           After staring at it for a minute, she then hit 6 three times, and 5 twice, for “Ok.”

           The next morning, Sadie jolted awake in bed, and felt her heart pounding. Her pajamas were unusually sweaty, and her panda was now on the floor. Despite drifting off easily enough the night before, she’d suffered a restless night in which she had been plagued by strange rapid-fire dreams, like the kind she’d have during a fever.

           She felt her forehead and it wasn’t hot, so she chalked it up to some hormonal imbalance, or maybe whatever she had as a snack the night before. What did she eat before bed, anyway? Yesterday had been such a blur. That was Sunday, right? The day of the neighborhood picnic? She knew her birthday was a little over a week away, so, yes, it must have been Monday again. Time to go back to final-semester school once more.

           “Honey? Are you feeling okay this morning?” her mom asked at the breakfast table a short while later. “You look all out of sorts, as the old expression goes.”

           “Just woke up with a terrible headache,” Sadie replied as she munched on cereal, which was true, if only a part of what she was feeling. “Mom, what did… What’d I say I wanted to do on my birthday again? I’m totally blanking. Did I even plan anything?”

           “Um, well… You had mentioned maybe going to Old School with your friends, but otherwise I don’t think there’s anything concrete yet. I can certainly make a dinner and a cake for all of you, if that’s not some ‘childish thing’ to you yet.”

           “R-right… Yeah… It’s starting to come back to me,” she groaned.

           “Are you sure you’re okay, sweetheart? Are you having any, you know, cramps?”

           “Ew, Mom. No. It’s probably just end-of-high-school stress. I… think I’m going to go over there a little early.” She grabbed her empty bowl, and kissed her mom on the head on the way to the sink, saying like she always tried to remember to, “Love you.”

           “All right, Sadie. Just drive carefully if you aren’t feeling your best.”

           These words hit Sadie in an unexpected, weird way, like there was more gravity to them than she expected. She paused for a moment at the sink, but quickly shook off the feeling and returned to her room to get dressed. Once she had grabbed her backpack and keys and was heading out the door, she stopped again upon seeing her own car in the driveway. She couldn’t quite describe the odd sensation. It was almost like… seeing her vehicle for the first time, or was experiencing surprise hesitance about getting into it.

           Suddenly thinking about Ash as she got in and started the engine, Sadie carefully backed out and triple-checked her mirrors before pulling onto an empty suburban street.

           Some vague feeling of wrongness continued to pervade her senses all the way into the school parking lot, like a sensation of déjà vu combined with waking up from a bad dream which had lingering aftereffects. She went into her homeroom like usual, but the morning announcements the school’s news crew ran were lost in a mental fog.

           Inexplicably, she stared at an empty desk most of the time. She knew it belonged to that one jock who was always tardy and couldn’t bother to show up for homeroom, yet she kept having the same looping, impossible idea: Ash used to sit there.

           But why? She hadn’t shared homeroom with Ash all throughout senior year.

           Unable to brush aside these bizarre thoughts by the time the bell rang, and aware that she’d hardly be able to concentrate in her first class anyway, she approached Celeste and Wes in the open-air corridor and made a request over the noise of many teenagers.

           “Hey—can one of you guys tell Mr. Edward that I’m feeling a little sick?”

           “Sure, but, what’s up? You okay?” Celeste asked her.

           “Y-yeah… I can’t explain it, but I’m going to hit the computer lab for a bit. Tell him that ‘this’ happens to me sometimes and I’ll try to be there in twenty minutes.”

           “Okay…” Wes said. “Weird, but you’re a good student, so maybe he’ll buy it.”

           Sadie thanked them, and rushed off towards the library and media center a short distance away. No classes had scheduled time in the lab so early, so she had the room just past all the bookshelves to herself at the moment. Feeling like she was losing her mind a little bit, and ridiculous for making such a search, she got onto Google and typed onto the plastic blue and gray iMac keyboard the words: “Super Toy Run Winner 1996.”

           She clicked on the first link that appeared, which was a recent news article where a local paper caught up with the winner of the Toys ‘R’ Us sweepstakes seven years later. He was a teenage boy that looked nothing like Wes, living in Wisconsin. Sadie shook her head and leaned back in her chair, thinking, it felt so real this morning when I was waking up.

           She even verbalized the concept by murmuring, “Why did I swear Wes was the…”

           Just to confirm the other major aspect of the morning’s uncanny thoughts, which was something she did not at all want to search for, as if doing so could make it real, she inquired about recent local car accidents with a teen victim. The results loaded, and…

           “Sadie?” a friendly, familiar voice piped from the open door to the lab.

           She looked up to see Ash, staring at her curiously, and replied, “Hey… Ash.”

           “I saw you running off and got a little worried. Sorry if it feels like stalking, heh.”

           “It’s okay. I know I’m being weird, it’s just, uh… Hey, you should go to science. Don’t let me ruin your attendance record. I’ll be done in a few.”

           “You sure?” Ash asked and approached. “If you suddenly needed to look up something for the quiz today, I probably already have the answer. You could ask me.”

           “Crap, I forgot there was a quiz.” Sadie closed the browser window without even glancing at the results, and hesitantly asked, “Have you ever had, like, false memories?”

           “What?” Ash snickered. “Girl, we’re too young for anything like that. What are you even talking about right now?” She thought a moment. “I mean, I don’t remember everything about being little accurately, but when you say stuff like ‘false memories…’”

           “You’re right. I think I just had a really strange night full of intense dreams.”

           “I get those sometimes. You want to talk about them on the way to class?”

           “No. Not at all,” Sadie sighed, and stood up to join her friend. “But we can go.”

           “Sure. You can still tell me anything, though,” Ash reassured her. As they walked off together, she added, “Man, if Teach makes me and Arty lab partners again today…”

           At lunch, Sadie brought her tray of cafeteria bean burrito and corn to the usual table she shared with her childhood friends, including Millie—the one she’d made later in life, thanks to someone who hadn’t been in town for several years. The impacts the dreams had on her earlier were starting to dull, and hadn’t been all bad; for some reason, they filled her with a renewed desire to live in the moment. After the rough years in high school, it was good to see old reliable buddies smiling, telling jokes, and laughing again.

           “Wes, my dude, your taste in movies is getting almost as bad as Jared’s,” Arthur told the plain truth. “We are not seeing Inspector Gadget 2 next week. It looks awful.”

           “The first one wasn’t amazing, either, man,” Zach added. “It’s nostalgia bait.”

           “I don’t know what that is,” Wes grumbled. “It just looks fun, that’s all…”

           “We have Sadie’s birthday movie to see first, anyway,” Colin reminded as she sat.

           Millie asked her, “Pick one, Sade? I do like getting to see R-rated ones whenever.”

           “Still thinking,” she said. “It feels like my mind’s been somewhere else recently.”

           Smiling, Ash replied, “You’re running out of time. Or should I choose for you?”

           Looking at everyone, Sadie thought, it doesn’t matter what we see, as long as it’s together.