Mary had once brought her golden retriever with her to school. Max. Mary and Max. He'd been a puppy, then, with big paws and had somehow gotten loose and followed the blonde to school and the entire cheer squad had stood outside, awwing at his excitement, until her good-natured but harried father arrived to pick the "little monster" up.
Max had whined from the backseat as Mr. Rothchild had started the car, the puppy's scrabbling at the window for Mary, who started to cry as her dad pulled away. Sadie had laughed her. "Are you crying?" She asked, delightedly. "You'll see him this afternoon!"
"He doesn't understand, though!" Mary had sobbed, half a laugh. She'd wiped away her tears then and laughed a little easier, swatting at Sadie who shrieked -- and that was it. That was all Sadie could think of, now, knowing that the girl in her memory was dead, and her puppy would never understand.
Some enterprising harpy from the PTA had seen fit to have Mary's last yearbook picture blown up and hung on the wall in the hallway outside of the office. People had already attached notes underneath, and someone - maybe another harpy, or the same one responsible for the photo - had left a bouquet of pink carnations and baby's breath with a big, plastic-y blue bow. It was sitting up against the wall kind of sadly, underneath the picture of the easily grinning Mary, her blonde hair brushed out and shining. Sadie stood and stared at all, empty of anything, only mildly aware of how constricting her denim jacket suddenly felt.
She'd dressed carefully today. It was weird. She'd heard about the news last night, thanks to her mom, who'd been friends with Mrs. Rothchild. She'd gotten the call before she left for work that night, in her blue vest, tired face. Sadie didn't pay much attention, only vaguely aware that her mom was even on the phone. The girl was in her room, listening to the radio - it had been a birthday present the year before, could hold two cassettes and was pastel pink, the real reason she loved it - and after awhile realised she could still hear the faint murmur of her mother talking. It was odd, because her mother was not one for long phone conversations anymore, and whatever was happening sounded serious. When she had ventured out into the kitchen, her mother had just hung up the phone, and her face was shining. "Oh, honey." She'd said, catching sight of Sadie. "Baby, I've got some bad news."
The worst part was, in that terrible moment, Sadie had thought it was Chase.
But he was alive and Mary wasn't, and when she'd been told - drowned, was all her mother could say, in an accident out at the quarry - all Sadie could feel was that curious emptiness. They'd been so close, once. They even had best friend necklaces, stupid things, all the girls on the squad had bought them one Saturday afternoon. Out of the team, Mary had been the only one to smile at Sadie the same, unstopping, no matter how distant Sadie grew.
And now she was dead, and there Sadie was, wearing the pink knit top Mary had always liked, and her half of the cheap best friend necklace. She wore one of her pleated skirts, too - white, and her white sneakers, still clean, and felt entirely too bright now.
Suddenly irritated, Sadie made her way to the cafeteria, paper bag with her lunch in hand - she needed Chase, if the coward wasn't hiding. He didn't deal well with - well, anything, and she knew that he would balk at the grief of his friends. True enough, he wasn't at the usual table, and Sadie tried to ignore the terrible pang within her emptiness at the sight of Thomas, dependable, easy-going Thomas, sitting at the table, his face blank, his eyes puffy. Why had he even bothered to come to school today - ?
Instead, her footballer was lounging in a booth, completely disinterested in everything -- unfortunately for him, another body fleeing the nexus of the tragedy had found him. From across the hall, Sadie sized Maiser up. He was one of the arty types, he practically lived in the art room. And there he was in his loose-fitting clothes - a deliberate choice, as far as Sadie could tell - his light hair free from its' usual bandanna as he ate. Smirking to herself, Sadie started towards them.