by Angel Lawson
It’s corny and kind of outdated, but it’s also tradition, something that’s big in Thistle Cove.
“Has anyone seen Alice?” I ask Ozzy as I haul the cooler of water across the field behind me. “She’s supposed to bring the ice.”
“I’m here,” she yells, carrying a massive bag in her arms. Her pink hair looks a little windswept, like she’d had the window open the whole time. “Sorry! I got held up at Kendrick’s. Apparently, everyone wanted to buy ice cream this afternoon.”
“Tell you dad thanks! We need every dollar we can get.”
Kendrick’s is her family’s ice cream parlor, named after her great-grandfather who opened it eighty years ago. Her dad nicely offered to provide ice for our fundraiser.
I bend over to open the cooler lid as she simultaneously shoves my car keys in my back pocket and drops in the half-melted bag of ice, the chunks falling in like hail.
“There’s another one in my car.”
“I’ll get it,” Ozzy says, walking around the table. He’s set up the cash box and the pins everyone gets with the purchase of a bottle of water. It’s a picture of the school mascot, a Viking, with the word Valhalla underneath. That’s the name of the yearbook, you know, the whole immortalizing thing.
“Thanks, Oz.”
Once he’s out of earshot, Alice says, “I can’t believe he’s actually helping.”
“I overheard him talking to Mrs. Parker that he’s interested in applying to the university. It’s pretty obvious that his extra curriculars are pretty slim. He’s never played sports or been on any of the academic clubs.” I adjust the water bottles, making sure they’re evenly covered by the ice. “It’s not like we don’t need his help. The centennial issue is going to be a pretty big undertaking.”
That’s right, this year marks one hundred years of Thistle Cove High.
“Still,” Alice says, “Ozzy barely speaks to anyone. Since when did you two make up?”
“It’s not like we ever had a real falling out. We just kind of went our different directions.”
I wasn’t the only one shoved aside when we started high school. Ozzy and Finn were best friends since the day my neighbor moved into town. Although they didn’t have the same kind of dramatic breakup Rose and I had, it’d still been rough. Overnight, Finn had football and a girlfriend. I had yearbook and eventually, Alice. Ezra was caught up in his parents' divorce and trying his hardest to get kicked out of school. Ozzy? He had no one.
Truthfully, Ozzy and I could have stayed better friends. But I was fourteen, had just lost my best friend and the guy I had a massive crush on. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. But this year things already feel different. Ozzy wants to join the yearbook staff, Finn actually spoke to me in the hallway, Rose has managed not to ruin my day. Maybe everyone has matured.
“Could she be any more obvious?” Alice says from beside me. I look up and see she’s staring at Juliette. “Like, I think she actually hemmed her skirt an inch higher than everyone else.”
Okay, so maybe not everyone has matured.
I fan myself, hot before the fire has even been lit. This fundraiser is to help us purchase a few new pieces of equipment for the Valhalla staff. A late summer bonfire gets pretty hot. In fact, the school is required to have the fire truck nearby. It’s taking up ten spaces in the parking lot.
Water should sell well at two dollars a bottle.
I grab my camera and snap a few photos of the other tables, each set up by a different club. Drama, softball, LGBTQ, Hispanic Society, Table Tennis…all you need is six people to start a club, and if it’s approved, you get your photo in the yearbook, can participate in events like this, and walk in the homecoming parade.
There’s one other booth; Mr. Waller, Rose’s dad, has a campaign table. He’s running for mayor, hoping to unseat Mayor Cunningham, who’s been in office since before I was born. He’s a nice man, but most people think the town needs new blood. Coming here tonight is a perfect example. I look through the crowd for Mr. Waller but don’t see him. Mrs. Waller is behind the table tonight, passing out buttons.
Ozzy gets back with the ice, a long trail of water spilling behind him as he walks. I open up the cooler for him to dump it into as Mr. Russell, our principal, walks up to the microphone.
“Welcome, students! It’s time for our annual lighting of the bonfire.” He glances down at the foot of the stage. “Tonight’s fire will be lit by our class president Juliette Chandler, captain of the football team Finn Holloway, and Coach Chandler.”
There’s a smattering of cheers. More than usual. Finn and Juliette are both very popular. Coach Chandler is absurdly handsome for a dad, with soulful blue eyes that has endeared him to the entire female student body. He’s a Viking alum and played on the team back when we used to be good. He has a state ring that he loves to flash around that he earned back then.
I zoom the camera in to get a picture of the three of them. Coach Chandler wraps an arm around Juliette and squeezes her tight, then pats Finn on the back. The gold of that championship ring glints on his finger. The band starts playing the school fight song and the cheerleaders tumble their way to the stage. Juliette grabs her shiny purple and gold pom-poms and runs up to meet them.
“Huh,” I say, scanning the area.
“What?” Alice asks, taking a big drink of water.
“Rose still isn’t here.”
I search the stage for Finn. I can tell from the look on his face he’s thinking the same thing.
“Seriously?”
Alice’s tone is hard. It matches the expression on her face. “What?”
“It’s been three years. She’s not your friend anymore, if she ever was. She snatched the only boy you ever loved. She dumped you the second someone new and shiny came to town. She humiliated you. She refuses to talk or acknowledge your existence. Why you’re so fucking hung up on her is deranged.” Her eyes look wild in the firelight. “The best thing that could happen to you, Kenley, is for Rose Waller to leave Thistle Cove for good! Forever!”
“Alice, chill out,” I say, urging her to hush.
“No! I won’t! Someone has needed to say this to you for a long time!” She’s yelling and people around us have started turning around. Emily Sawyer stares hard, while her fingers fly over her phone screen. Shit. She’s probably already posting about the drama on social media.
I grab her arm and pull her away. “You’re the one acting deranged. I’m just concerned for a classmate. My former best friend. Is that so awful?”
“It is when you ignore your actual friends in the process.”
I frown. “Ignore? What are you talking about?”
She yanks her arm out of my grasp. “Never mind.”
To be fair, it’s not the first time we’ve had this fight. I don’t get a chance to follow her, because the crowd erupts into cheers as Coach Chandler walks across the stage. He grabs the microphone set up by the AV department.
“Hello, Vikings!” he shouts. “I’m happy to announce that this year’s lineup is looking like a team full of winners! With the strength of our varsity team and the leadership of our captains, there’s no way we won’t capture the glory of this championship team once again!”
He means it. He wants it, so much that I can hear it in his voice.
He announces the team, starting with Finn and the other captain, Jeff Carson. He rolls through the names, none of them particularly interesting or surprising, until he gets to Ezra Baxter.
A ripple rolls through the students as Ezra walks across the stage in a jersey that shows off his broad shoulders and waves to the crowd.
Well, that’s a surprise. I snap his photo.
“Yeah, you may want to grab that while you can. He’ll probably get kicked off in a week,” Ozzy says, standing next to me.
He’s not wrong.
“Maybe he’ll help them get that ring Coach Chandler keeps talking about.” He kicks the dirt field. “Him and Captain America’s new body up there.”
&
nbsp; I pretend I haven’t noticed how Finn’s body changed over the summer. He and his dad built a gym in their garage, and I’d hear the weights clanking at all hours of the day and halfway through the night. He and Rose also came to the pool a few times while I lifeguarded. I’m well aware of Finn’s new and improved physique.
“I’m sure his dad would be thrilled with that,” I say. We’ve all heard the stories from Mr. Baxter about winning that state championship. He still wears his ring, too.
Coach Chandler steps back and the band launches into a popular song, spurring the cheerleaders and dance team into a frenzy. The rest of the student body mills around, stopping at the tables for food and drink. A couple of teachers try to keep people from throwing trash, food, and each other into the fire.
At the edge of the field, there’s a platform. The director of the marching band uses it during practices. It’s empty now, away from the crowd, and I realize if I climb to the top, I’ll get a good view for photographs.
From the perch I can see the whole field; the football players, the cheerleaders, the shiny sequined shorts of the dance team. Coach Chandler and Mr. Russell smiling up on the stage. Ozzy’s over at the booth, alone. No Alice. And Mr. Waller strides across the field in a rush, easing back behind his table. He leans over and kisses his wife on the cheek. I catch Ezra ducking under the bleachers—his father, predictably, a no-show for the night. Finn and Juliette are in deep, animated conversation.
Even up here, it’s loud, crowded, and smoky, which is why I don’t hear the sirens, not until the blue lights streak by the front of the school. Even then, they’re just part of the whole scene and not the signal that everything in my life is about to change.
5
Ozzy
“Thanks for the ride.”
Kenley flashes me a tight grin. “No problem.”
Alice bailed on clean up, leaving me and Kenley to do it all alone. It wasn’t a big deal, just dumping out the coolers and folding up the table and chairs. I helped her carry everything back to her car. I was about to start walking home when she offered me a ride. It’s late, and the walk over the bridge at night is a little precarious. I take her up on the offer.
“It feels a little surreal that we’re finally seniors,” she says. “I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for this moment and now it’s here, and...”
“And it’s a little anti-climactic?”
She frowns. “A little. I guess I thought I’d feel different.”
“It’s hard to feel different in a small town with the same kids you’ve been going to school with your whole life.” I tap my finger on the window. “Take Coach Chandler. He’s not looking to the future, he’s trying to reclaim the past. If you want different, you’re going to have to get the hell out of Thistle Cove.”
Her hands grip the steering wheel. “That’s the plan, right?”
That’s where Kenley and I have always been the same. We’re restless and dreamers. Finn and Rose—that’s why they’ve always been a good match—they follow the same narrow path. I fully expect one day that Finn will be up on that stage as head coach of the Vikings. And I have little doubt Rose will still be cheering him on. Whatever happens, I don’t plan on being here to see it.
Only one thing tugs at my insides when I think about leaving Thistle Cove, and it’s the girl sitting next to me: Kenley Keene.
As smart as the girl is, and she’s a complete brainiac, she has no fucking clue how amazing she is. She’s so caught up in feeling inferior to the Rose and Juliettes of the school that she doesn’t see her own worth. She’s smart, feisty, independent, and fucking gorgeous. Long honey-colored hair that she always wears in a ponytail, revealing her pale neck. Her eyes are a deep sapphire, her lips dark pink, and her skin makes my fingers twitch, wanting to see for myself just how soft it is. I’ve spent the last three years watching her change from a gawky tween, to a beautiful, sexy woman. I’ve also spent way too much time trying to figure out what the hell’s wrong with Finn for choosing Rose over her, and kicking myself for being too chicken to take a shot myself.
Kenley only has eyes for one guy in this town, and it’s not me. Asking her out would be like asking for a kick in the heart.
We start the drive over the narrow two-lane bridge—the one that travels over Thistle Cove. The wide swath of water buffer leads back out to the bay and divides the town from the suburban neighborhoods.
The car starts to slow, and I look out front window. The halo of red and blue lights flicker in the distance. It’s not uncommon for cops to do a check point at the bridge. Especially after school events. It’s an easy way to catch a few DUIs.
I sense Kenley tense next to me.
Was she drinking when I wasn’t looking?
An officer emerges from the fog, he’s holding a flashlight.
“Roll down your window,” I say, because for some reason Kenley has stopped functioning.
“Oh, right,” she says, fumbling with the button.
Shit. Maybe she is drunk.
The cop bends down and peers in the window.
“Everything okay?” I ask, leaning over the console.
“There’s just an abandoned car on the bridge, making it so we have to go to one lane. Just keeping people safe.”
“Thank you,” she says, seeming relieved.
“You kids be safe.”
She rolls up the window and follows the waving motion of his flashlight.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She exhales. “It’s just been a long day. I think all the adrenaline from everything caught up to me.”
Three patrol cars are lined up against the side of the bridge ahead, lights flickering rapidly. It’s hard to see past the glare. I hold my hand up to shade my eyes and that’s when I see it.
The light blue 1960s VW Bug.
There’s only one in town.
I glance over at Kenley. Her face is pale.
Cops surround the VW, gesturing for us to keep moving. I press my nose to the window, a strange sensation building in my chest. I can’t really tell what’s going on, but I do see flashlights pointed down over the railing, and one thing is perfectly clear: there’s no sign of Rose.
6
Kenley
My second-story bedroom window mirrors the one next door. When Finn moved in, it became a constant comfort knowing he was so close. We had a literal window into one another’s worlds. A place that no one else could touch. In the third grade, we moved our desks under the window and would sit across from one another and do our homework. When he broke his leg playing Pop Warner and was stuck in his room for two weeks, we rigged a line and pulley between the houses, and I’d send him notes and candy. It was a literal life-line; him for the candy, me for the companionship.
Until Rose did what she did, and I pulled down my shade, never opening it again. He was part of what happened that night. I may have to face him at school, but I refuse to do it from the sanctuary of my room.
When I get home after the bonfire, I toss my keys on the little table by the door and head to my bedroom. I don’t want to talk about seeing Rose’s car on the bridge. It could be anything. The car is old—an antique. Maybe it broke down? Maybe she ran out of gas. Knowing Rose, she’ll burst into school tomorrow and suck all the air out of the place while she reenacts the dramatic tale.
I change, tossing the smoky clothes into my hamper, and reach for my backpack, annoyed that one day back in school and I already have homework. I sit at the desk and that’s when the strangest compulsion comes over me. Before I think twice, I open the shade. I do it fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid.
I’m not exactly surprised to see him there—sitting right across from me, like he’s never moved. Our eyes meet, and a flicker of emotion passes through his. Worry? Anger? Distress?
My phone vibrates in my back pocket. It’s from our AP Lit group chat.
Did you hear about Rose’s car?
I glance up and see that Finn is reading the same
text.
A flurry of responses comes through, each one vibrating in my hand. I don’t take my eyes off of Finn though, not until he reaches out and pulls the shade, taking the glow of light and a million questions with him.
Existing in the same orbit as Rose Waller is like basking in the sun on a clear day with the rays casting over you. She had the ability to make everything feel warm and full of possibility. But imagine a world where the sun vanishes, and a gray pallor takes over, leaving you cold and lost.
That’s what it was like when Rose turned on me.
The Wallers aren’t just a normal family. They’re a family built on a mythology. It’s self-created, but with vine-like roots, dug deep and twisting into the thick clay that makes up the foundation of Thistle Cove.
Ask anyone and they’ll tell you how Regina and Brice Waller met. It was during the homecoming dance. Brice was on the football team and class president. Regina head cheerleader and on the debate team. They saw one another across crepe paper and the mirrored disco ball and realized that the one they’d been looking for was there all along. There was no Thistle Cove High royalty bigger than Jason Chandler and his girlfriend Monica, but Brice came close. He dropped football after graduation and focused on politics. That drive took him all the way through college and graduate school, then back to town where he ran for city council. He did it all with the support and guidance of the rock that stood by his side, Regina.
They bought a magnificent home in Thistle Cove overlooking the water. They had a child. They were the power couple, who weren’t just blessed with intelligence, but wealth and a perfect family. How did I know they were perfect? Because they told you so, anyone that would listen, and, as Rose’s best friend, I witnessed it first-hand.
Rose was fun. Silly. Generous. She was an only child, so it was natural she’d want company around, and for years and years that company was me. We played dress-up and tea party and climbed trees. Her father had a life-like play cottage built for us, deep in the woods that backed up to his property, and we spent hours there planning our lives together. And we had plans. Big ones. We’d go to the same college and be roommates. We’d both meet perfect boys, fall in love, have amazing sex, and when we’d sown all our wild oats, we’d get engaged. Our weddings would be together, with matching dresses and sparkling tiaras, but we wouldn’t wear heels, just sneakers underneath.