Fate: The Choice That Led to Tragedy

The Mistake

I don't remember much from that night. What I do remember is my mother's soft voice, one that nearly cracked over two small words: Alaira's dead.

***

Holland froze, unable to comprehend the news. He told me...he promised me one night with Cassie...he swore he'd stay home...

***

I sit in the church, only one in the sea of black as I say goodbye to the best friend I'd had since I was three. Nothing penetrates the fog in my mind except for unwelcome memories, reminders of better times.

***

Holland slumps in his chair in Carter's hospital room. He should be at Cassie's side, at Alaira's funeral, but he can't bring himself to move. He stares mindlessly at the heart monitor, the only sign that Carter is still alive.

Then he closes his eyes and does something that he hasn't done in a long time.

He prays.

<<<

"Watch where you're going!" I snapped to an ignorant freshman who nearly collided with me. Shaking my head, I forged on down the hall toward my physics class. It was my senior year, and I didn't feel like beginning the best year of my life with a broken leg.

Taking a seat near the back in Mrs. Spontak's classroom, I stole a quick glance at the clock, worried that Alaira would be late on the first day of school. That was all she needed, to gain a tardy from the woman who was reputedly the strictest teacher in the school.

Two seconds until the bell, Alaira raced into the room. I nudged her chair with my foot as she slid in beside me. Dropping a scrawled note on the floor between us, I glanced at her meaningfully. In our usual system, she bent as if to adjust the strap on the back of her sandal, and scooped up the note as she stood to take her seat.

I heard the slight rustle of paper as she read it underneath the desk. It said: What happened to you?

She quickly scratched out an answer, but that was when Mrs. Spontak decided to start class. Alaira muttered something unintelligible to me. Before I could make out what it was, Mrs. Spontak swept into the aisle between us and cleared her throat loudly. "Do you have something to share with us, girls?"

"No, ma'am," I quickly responded as Alaira shook her head, blonde curls swinging emphatically as she did so.

Mrs. Spontak fixed us with her famous Death Glare. "Then see that you pay attention when I'm speaking to you."

Alaira and I both nodded instead of replying verbally. She did say to pay attention, which equated to "Don't speak when I'm speaking." She looked on the verge of saying something else to us, but her attention was instead drawn to the boys on the other side of the room, the ones that were spitballing her desk.

The instant Mrs. Spontak's back was turned, Alaira slipped me the note. Underneath my line of messy handwriting, she had written one word in her flowing cursive: Carter.

I shot her a look. Seriously?

It's not like we did anything, her shrug replied. We were just talking.

Uh-huh, my skeptically arched eyebrow said.

Our silent conversation was interrupted by Mrs. Spontak's grating, old-lady voice, directing the class to look at the board up front, upon which she had projected the syllabus for this year.

<<<

It seems surreal that a mere four months ago, Alaira was alive. It seems even more surreal that I was scolding her for something as trivial as nearly being late for class because of a meeting with Carter, one that I'm sure was far from innocent.