Strictly Platonic

Fourteen Years Old

At fourteen years old, Cassie attended a funeral in which she hid from the rest of the guests on the vacant top floor. Sunday is the Lord's Day, but on this particular Sunday, it was her dad's day. That's the kind of gratitude you get when you die and only when you die.

She tried to survive the onslaught of "I'm sorry for your loss," and "How you holding up?", but there were just too damn many for her to take. When the opportunity revealed itself, she snuck up to the top floor where a sign on the door said: DO NOT ENTER. STAFF ONLY.

At some point, someone would be clever enough to find her. Until then, she would bask in the tranquility of silence. The only downside to such silence meant no distractions, and no distractions meant she had to listen to her thoughts. Those pesky and remorseful whispers blaming her for everything.

She tried to find something to keep her mind blank, and if not blank, then filled with something other than self-loathing. She sat down on the windowsill, leaning her back against the wall.

The window was stained-glass and depicted cherubs with curly blond hair and pudgy cheeks. They were equipped with claymores and bows as if babies could somehow be guardians for humanity. But they weren't really babies, were they? They were angels and the youthful appearance was an artistic choice meant to convey a sense of innocence. To Cassie, it was just nonsense.

The window overlooked the front of the building. She could see all the way to the McDonalds about three blocks away. She also had the perfect vantage point of the parking lot where she could see her brother stealing away with Tommy Douglas and Blake Sinou to smoke cigarettes.

They thought they were being clever and sneaky about it, but from what Cassie could tell, Amber had known about Mitchel's extracurricular activities for over three months. Apparently, some battles just weren't worth fighting. Especially not of late with what happened to Dad. It'd been almost a week, but it felt more like ten years since she'd last seen him. Even longer since she had wanted to see him.

Mitchel didn't seem too bothered by any of it, but he was smart enough to know that he could get away with almost anything if he feigned pain. Dad's accident had bought them temporary immunity at home and at school. Cassie tried not to use it, but some people forced it onto her.

They would look at her with these pitiful smiles and soft eyes. For some reason, people thought that a hug or a funny story could cure anything. The last thing she wanted was to hear another story from one of her dad's old friends about how her dad used to throw the "craziest" parties. Yet, what she wanted wasn't a matter up for debate. They were older, and they knew better.

Mitchel just told everyone to, "Fuck off" because he knew no one would yell at him for it. She contemplated doing the same thing, but Mom already seemed too exhausted with one problematic child. So, why add another into the equation?

Cassie watched her brother slip into the small patch of trees at the edge of the lot, his two idiot friends close behind. She innately pressed her middle finger against the glass, and even though he couldn't see her, she felt a sense of pride at her remark. She would've left her finger there all day if she hadn't heard the approaching pair of footsteps from below.

The door creaked shut, and the latch clicked into place. The room stood silent for a moment before those footsteps began ascending the stairs. She wasn't sure which of the search dogs would peek their heads up, but it didn't really matter. Maybe it would be one of the employees sneaking up here for a cigarette or something. As long as she apologized and said she just needed some alone time, everything would be okay.

The moment she saw the blond hair, which had grown distinctively darker over the years, she knew who it was. Ryan was the only boy she had known who cared enough to style his hair. He was the only boy she knew who would actually dress up for a funeral. He was the only boy she knew who would offer to look for her—and actually find her.