Such The Liar Painted Me

6. The Chance to Save Never Taken

"What do you mean, Brett and Greta? Because of their fight you were able to decide that Rosé had died long ago? Y'know that sounds like outright bullshit?"

Even though Sophie spoke such words, I sensed there wasn't much disbelief in them. As if she was waiting to believe me. That I had to give her a chance to share.

"She could've been alive, Sophie, I know. But I know a dead girl when I see one. Did you see the amount of coke she took? That would've caused her death in only a few minutes," I said, leaning against the flocculent sofa arranged hurriedly by the hotel manager.

"And don't forget you were the one who told me that you had spent hours looking for her at the party."

She nodded, wriggling in an uncomfortable way. "Why does it feel like you haven't told me everything?"

"Since when did you ever care?" I looked straight at her, unflinching.

"Ma'am, what do you wanna order?" someone stepped in front of our table, Del's Noir stitched in a scrawl on his pinstriped shirt.

"Gordon, hey," I said, a smile perched on my face instantly. "Actually, I would love a Falafel Sandwich right now. I know you ought to be closin' right away, but remember you owe me one for misleading the police, hmm."

"And for my sis he--" I continued, urging her to order, but she let her hair be the veil as she adjusted her dress, quickly mumbling, "How about nothin'?"

When I returned my attention to Gordon, his eyes flitted from her and Sophie while his mouth remained agape. "I'm sorry, but we're closin' after you, so I don't think if someone, your date, can come right now. Whoever that lady is, she might--"

I interrupted him. "Wait, what? No, no, I'm not waiting for any date. I was talking about my--"

A shrill voice, muffled by the clanging of utensils, called Gordon.

"The sandwich, ma'am, right away." With that, he bowed his head once and scrambled towards the person.

"Huh?"

Neither the night after, nor the day went well for anyone. I remembered calling 911 and crashing at Del's Noir later. But there was one image that couldn't get rid of. Della Rosé. Hardly the person I ever knew.

I had asked Elijah, Carolina and Vera to meet after break, but it was being longer than usual. Every class that I had since morning played the same tape 'Don't do drugs, kids. You might end up like Rosé'. Of course, they weren't as insensitive to words.

So when I was approaching the cafeteria, I headed towards the lockers, the memory not pleasing. Somewhere inside, there was a nagging voice telling me that this wasn't how it was supposed to go.

It was as if the incident, Della's death had finally transpired, I started receiving fragments of what had happened before, when I had not come back in time. That time, it was all party, games, fun stuff and kissing my boyfriend, Matt, watching Brett and Greta's breakup and later getting to know about a girl's death which shocked everyone at school.

But now, I'd no trace of a relationship with me, I'd been the one to be a witness to the dead body and now I was standing at the back of a large crowd peering at a notice hammered through the agenda board.

The most shocked were the juniors, gaping, while some seniors, I thought, tried to remember who Della was, or how much of a bestie she had been.

I didn't take the effort to stretch my neck and read that name over and over again. There's simply an air around a dead body that one can't help being reminiscent about. It was the kind that made me feel regret, remorse.

But there were probably many people still behind me, so I put my hands forward, stopping them from kicking me as they jumped to read the notice, and instead offered my service.

Focusing on tips of my toes and support on the shoulders of a stranger ahead, I leaned ahead, mouthing the words. "Harrington High lost a gem. In order to honour her past achievements and bring peace--the funeral for Miss S--"

"Not cool, man," the guy ahead grimaced and I stepped back, apologising. I tried once again though, but couldn't get past 'Della Rosé'. Yet I was pretty sure I had seen a S instead of D at the start.

Walking away, I felt my phone vibrate and saw mom's text. Gordon called. You okay?

I smiled. That man can be the death of me, but still be the caring uncle I felt he was. Sending her a quick explanation and promising to get back soon, I slid in the cafeteria seat. There was a buzz in the air and I definitely was on the receiving end of weird looks.

At my appearance, the cheerleaders, the band members, the team hid their mouth behind their spidery hands to talk and whisper. I had the desire to bully it out of them. I just didn't want them to think I should've called 911 right away.

What happened last night was also hazy, and I'm sure Sophie called the ambulance, but I was regretting being so weak at that moment. I should've at least tried.

No luck beating around the bush, I believe.

"Hey, Ovi, do you mind?" I looked up to find Sophie's face hovering over, what looked like concern flashed over her. "I mean, I'm not here to sit forever. I have some work in library, you know, to help with the cash." She shrugged.

I nodded, absent-minded.

"So are you gonna come for the funeral? You know, it's not necessary--"

"I have to." I dug my fingers through the hair right till the scalp. "Somehow, all of this mess feels like my fault. I can't help it. I have to go."

"But--"

"Anyway, Sophie, uh, I recall you muttering something under your breath, like I failed, I failed, and even at the Café yesterday, Gordon completely ignored you. Mind explaining?"

"You sure 'twas me? It can't be. Don't you remember I was busy calling the ambulance. And I don't know about Gordon. That poor guy's nerves are always everywhere, so I can't blame him right?" She paused, slightly hesitating.

"I think I should get going. Don't want that crazy oldie librarian to get angry, hm?"

As her chair scraped back, all I could see was a dark, black-haired girl smiling at me. My eyes immediately tried to focus on the food. Not the time for hallucinations, girl. You had the chance, you ruined it. Now get on with it.