June 27, 2008
Do Hard Things?
by Maddee Schrader, RTF Staff Writer
She fidgeted, twitching a French fry between her fingers. Juan and Kara were seated behind her. Most people would not hear their conversation, or care. But she inherited good hearing from her mother. It was genetic, so how was the guilt she felt her fault?
Kara sighed, the sound fighting for rights in the chatter of the cafeteria. “I don’t know anymore. Why shouldn’t I?”
Juan took a moment to answer. “You still have your mom.”
Kara snorted. “Yeah, in all her Walgreens-employee glory.”
“She’s still someone.”
“Yeah? Barely.”
“Still. Just because of the accident – you can’t just leave off like that.”
The girl listening tried not to listen. She lifted her sandwich and took a measured bite. It tasted like paper.
Kara’s voice rose. “Just because? I lost my dad and both sisters in one night because some idiot driver didn’t turn his lights on. My brother’s in Iraq so he’s practically done for. My boyfriend ditched me yesterday because some other two-timing little twit is better looking. What’s the point?”
“College? You have good grades.”
“College? Come on, I might be a geek but I’m not gonna live for college.” Kara laughed, not normally. “That’s what I’m saying. What am I living for?”
The listener pursed her lips. There was a lot to live for. A God to live for. Could she say that? Out loud?
From the corner of her eye, she saw Juan shrug. “I dunno. I thought you were Catholic.”
“Yeah, so? What does that mean anyway?”
The words surged at her lips. She could turn and tell Kara what it meant. She knew. A surge of adrenaline pulsed through her. She swiveled on her seat. “Hey, Kara?”
Kara glanced up, skin under her eyes dark through makeup. “Yeah?”
The words poised on her lips died as she saw Brittany seated next to Kara. The cheerleader tilted her head and arched her brows, as if interested in what her teammate had to say to this math whiz.
She swallowed as words crumpled into themselves and shriveled. “I was wondering if you had notes from Friday. I wasn’t here.”
Kara blinked. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll give them to you after school. Out front by the benches?”
She nodded stupidly, numbly.
Brittany returned to her salad, gutting a cherry tomato with her fork.
Kara mumbled something to Juan before grabbing her tray and vanishing.
She waited, but Kara was not there after school. The news came quietly, through one of Kara’s friends. The doctors pumped a full bottle of sleeping pills from her stomach. She would be in care for several days.
The listener, the coward, the not-speaker sighed. Too many what-ifs. It could not occur again.
She drove toward the hospital and asked for Kara’s room number.
Lydia Rule says:
Awesome! Love this story… ~Lydia
Judi says:
Great story, Maddee.
-Judi
Debbie says:
This is terrific, Maddee. Definitely brings the month’s point home.
Debbie