Meet Me Under the Willow Tree

Chapter Eighteen: Maeve

The walk to the bus stop felt longer than usual, each step weighed down by the burden of my grief. The once-familiar route seemed foreign, the trees and houses casting unfamiliar shadows in the early morning light.

I kept my head down, avoiding eye contact with the few people I passed on the sidewalk, their presence a jarring reminder of the world that continued to move on despite my best friend being gone.

As I approached the bus stop, I saw a small group of my classmates huddled together, their laughter and animated chatter cutting through the quiet, subdued morning.

I hesitated, the urge to turn back and retreat to the safety of my home nearly overwhelming. But before I could act on that impulse, one of them spotted me.

"Maeve!" called out a voice, the cheerful tone a stark contrast to my somber mood. I took a deep breath and put on my best brave face, forcing a weak smile as I joined them.

"Hey," I said quietly, my voice barely audible over the din of their conversation. They fell silent, their gazes trained on me with a mixture of pity and curiosity.

"How are you holding up?" asked a girl whose name I'd never learned, her eyes filled with what seemed to be genuine concern.

I shrugged, unsure how to answer. The truth was, I wasn't holding up at all. My world had been shattered, and I was still trying to piece together the fragments of my life without Cassie. But I knew they wouldn't understand, couldn't understand, the depth of my pain.

"I'm okay," I lied, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "Just taking it one day at a time."

They nodded, their expressions a blend of relief and uncertainty. It was clear they didn't know how to act around me, how to navigate the delicate balance between acknowledging my loss and maintaining some semblance of normalcy. I couldn't blame them; I didn't know how to navigate it either.

The arrival of the bus provided a distraction, the hiss of its doors opening signaled a temporary reprieve from the awkward silence that I was drowning in. I boarded quickly, finding a seat near the back where I could retreat into my thoughts.

The ride to school passed in a blur, the chatter of my classmates fading into a distant hum as I stared out the window. The once-vibrant landscape seemed dull and lifeless, a reflection of the emptiness that had taken root in my heart. Cassie had been life. Now that she's gone it's almost like the trees lost their vibrance; the flowers lost their color.

And I lost my best friend.

As the bus pulled into the school parking lot, a wave of dread washed over me. I wasn't ready for this, wasn't prepared to face the daily struggles of high school without Cassie by my side; her laughter and her worries. But as the doors opened and my classmates began filing out, I knew I had no choice but to follow.

The halls of the school were filled with the usual hustle and bustle of students hurrying to their classes, their excited voices echoing off the walls. I kept my head down, navigating the crowd with a singular focus on reaching my locker. Each step felt like a battle, the weight of my grief threatening to crush me beneath its oppressive force.

As I rounded the corner, I saw a small group gathered near my locker. My heart sank, the prospect of dealing with their well-meaning but intrusive questions filling me with dread. But as I drew closer, I realized they weren't focused on me.

A makeshift memorial had been erected in Cassie's honor, her smiling face beaming out from a collage of photos and memories. Flowers, cards, and notes surrounded the display, a visual testament to the impact Cassie had made on the lives of those around her.

Tears stung my eyes as I took the view in, the depth of my loss somehow hitting deeper than before. I reached out, my fingers brushing against the edge of a photo that captured Cassie's radiant smile.

"I miss you," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the chaos of the hallway. "I don't know how to do this without you."

The first bell rang, signaling the start of the school day and jarring me from my reverie. With one last lingering look at the memorial, I turned away, steeling myself for the classes that lay ahead.

I know what Cassie would have wanted, she would have wanted me to keep moving forward, keep making friends, keep living. With that knowledge in my mind it gave me the strength I needed to keep going; to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Even if I trip (which I probably will) I need to keep moving forward. For Cassie.