Grant Me A Wish

by Amanda Adair

  I grab one of those salads with champignons, potato wedges and, of course, a chocolate chip muffin for dessert. Today I feel like treating myself. Just when I stop in front of the cashier I realize Sage’s tray is empty. She puts it back.

  “I’m not hungry,” she says.

  I look at her, but she looks down, so my eyes wander to Sofia.

  “And you?,” I ask.

  “I want a gluten-free sandwich,” she explains. “They’re over there.” She points at the cashier. Behind the woman there’s a counter with sandwiches.

  “Why gluten-free?,” I ask. Sofia doesn’t have a single allergy. I’m allergic to cats even though I adore every kind of animal on four legs.

  “It tastes better,” she says. “And I want to support those who have an allergy. My mom does, and everything’s so expensive. It gets cheaper when there’s a high demand.”

  I didn’t know Katherine can’t eat gluten.

  But let’s take stock. Finna is hungover and went home. Cris gave us some weird excuse on why she can’t have lunch today. And Sage doesn’t eat anything. As we sit at one of the tables close to the window I look outside. It’s a nice day. It was supposed to rain, that’s what my iPhone announced, but the sky is light blue dotted with white clouds.

  “Hey guys.”

  No. You can’t be serious. I keep looking outside the window, hoping she would disappear.

  “Hi Tansy,” Sofia says.

  A tray lands on the table. The chair legs scratch over the linoleum. There is no doubt she’s sitting at our table now. Didn’t she find any other friends? There are plenty of people at this school. She could just go back home and live a happy life of a homeschooled kid.

  “How’s your second day,” I hear my cousin’s voice.

  “Good, actually,” she answers. “I was a bit lost in math and French, but I can catch up I guess. I didn’t know we learn French at such a high level. My Spanish is good since I’ve lived in Spain and Argentina, but my French is not exactly fluent. What are your plans for today?”

  Bored by her speech about languages I slowly turn towards her. She’s sitting in front of Sofia and me.

  “Finna’s sick and Cris has other plans,” I. say. “It’s just a regular Tuesday, so we’re going home after school.” The I have a much better idea, so I just keep talking. “Actually, we’re gonna study. Do you wanna join us?”

  “Sure,” she says.

  I smile. “I need a change of scenery. At your place?”

  “I don’t know,” she answers. Of course, she doesn’t want us to come over. If that isn’t definite proof she’s hiding something. “I’ll have to ask my parents. Can’t we do it at your place?”

  “My mom has friends over,” I lie and immediately see Sofia’s confused face.

  After our last lesson that day Tansy talks to a guy and leaves the classroom with him. We thought she would just go to her locker or to the restroom, but she’s just disappeared. We wait for her in the parking lot, but she’s probably gone home.

  “Let’s just go,” I say. “She’s gone. She doesn’t want us to see her shabby house.”

  I doubt she has a home. Maybe she’s homeless. Although she doesn’t look homeless at all. Before I open the door of Sage’s car I pause.

  “Did you hear that?,” I ask and freeze. “Psst,” I add when Sofia moves and steps on a twig on the ground.

  Again, a bloodcurdling noise sounds. It’s a shrieking sound. A scream maybe.

  “It’s a girl,” Sofia says and starts running towards the school building. “We have to help her. Maybe she’s hurt.”

  For a second I hope it’s Tansy, the next I feel ashamed for thinking like that.

  “No, Sofia,” Sage says. “It comes from outside.”

  Sage and I follow Sofia. We run up the short stairs that lead to the sports ground. On the huge meadow there is a small group of people standing in a circle. Four or five maybe. As we get closer I see a body lying on the ground.

  “Aspen,” Sofia says. “Wait.” She’s in front of us and already pushed her way through the girls and boys next to coach Parker. She walks towards me and pushes me away. “Just stay away, trust me.”

  Why? I want to talk but I can’t.

  “Everybody calm down,” the coach says. “I’ve called the police.”

  I look at the person on the ground. I can see the black shorts and white socks with two black stripes each and … white sneakers with a red writing on the side of the soles. These are the sneakers I gave Remi for his sixteenth birthday. He wanted new white sneakers because his are completely ruined. It looked like they were brown, not at all white anymore. I wrote our names on them as well as a few stars, so they’re more individual.

  “Remi,” I say.

  Then I see her face. She’s standing right behind coach Parker. Tansy Walsh.

  “It was her,” I scream and stumble towards Tansy. “She did that.”

  “Aspen Varela,” the coach says and comes closer. “Step back.”

  “No,” I say. “It was her.”

  “None of us were here when it happened,” he explains and puts his hands onto my shoulders. “Calm down. Jessica found him. We don’t know what happened.”

  What a coincidence she’s here. I break away from the coach and look at Remi’s body. He texted me earlier that he wanted to meet me later. Now I see how bad it really is. I get it why they don’t call an ambulance but the police.

  He isn’t hurt. He’s dead.

  chapter 9

  His eyes are open but they’re lifeless and lack any brilliance. Those are not the eyes that looked at me in admiration when I walked down the stairs, wrapped in a short red dress, at his house on his birthday. Those are not the eyes that hid behind a bouquet of red roses on mine. For a second the image of Tansy’s black pupils flashes in my sight and replaces Remi’s dead steel blue eyes. His arms lay on the grass like crooked branches of a tree. His shirt is ripped apart and on his chest there is a huge scratch or scar. Not like claw marks or cuts. It rather looks like it comes from the inside. I couldn’t look at his ravaged body for long. I’m now sitting on one of the benches close to the main building.

  “Aspen,” Sofia says and interrupts my thoughts.

  I shake my head to make her shut up. I appreciate her trying to comfort me but right now I want silence. Of course, the police could only confirm his death and close off the crime scene. Is it a crime scene? It only is because they can’t figure out what those wounds are. They’re still around, taking photos of Remi, talking to Jessica, so she can spread the details of how she took notice of him.

  “What do you think happened to him?,” Sage asks with a lowered gaze.

  Sofia gives her that please-shut-up look, but I reply, “Tansy.”

  She sighs. “Aspen,” Sofia says, “she didn’t touch him. He was on his way to his car and she was in the locker room.”

  “That’s what she said,” I reply and stare at the police officers around Remi’s body. Corpse I should say. I can’t look into anyone’s eyes right now. I want to be alone but at the same time I don’t want to be left alone. I want them to be here with me but keep quiet.

  “That’s what the other girls confirmed,” Sofia reminds me. She could’ve paid them to say that.

  “Maybe he was sick or something,” Sage says.

  “He was perfectly healthy,” I reply snappishly. “It’s her. He died because of her.”

  “Because of her?,” Sage asks. “What do you mean? She killed him?”

  I nod. “Maybe she did something beforehand. Like poisoning him.”

  “Don’t you think this is insane?,” Sofia says. “She’s new and she told us these stories but she’s not a murderer.”

  “How do you know?,” I ask and turn towards her. “She just shows up at our school and plays a stupid game with us and then Remi dies.”

  “Hey, don’t cry,” she says.

  I’m not. Am I? I didn’t notice that my eyes are filled with tears. I close them for
a few seconds and suck it up.

  “Whatever,” I say.

  After the police finished talking to Jessica they talk to two guys as well as Tansy. She looks at me for a moment, then she points at me. A woman in a brown coat walks towards me. She arrived here later than the actual officers. Maybe she’s a detective. I’m not sure.

  “Aspen Varela,” she says. It sounds like a question, but she already knows who I am. She’s looking straight at me.

  “That’s me,” I say.

  “Can I talk to you?,” she asks and looks at Sofia and Sage, so they get up.

  The woman in the brown coat and her shoulder-length chestnut hair sits down next to me.

  “Remi Cavanaugh was your boyfriend?”

  Was. I’d say I am but she’s right. It’s my past now. It’s strange how your life changes from one second to another. I mean who’d have known how long our relationship could’ve lasted. Three years? Twenty years? No one knows. I did love him. I wasn’t his girlfriend because I was bored or because I desperately wanted to have a boyfriend.

  “He was,” I say.

  “Did he take any drugs?,” she asks.

  I immediately look up. “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am,” I say. Robert does drugs but not Remi. He is way too obsessed with football to ruin his health and body by taking drugs. Or maybe he took something for muscle gain. How should I know? “I mean I wasn’t around twenty-four-seven.”

  “So you think he might have taken drugs?,” she suggests.

  “I don’t think anything,” I says. “I just know he never took any drugs when I was around, and I’ve never heard of any rumors suggesting it.”

  “Alright,” she says.

  “Did drugs cause his death?,” I want to know.

  “At the moment we can’t say anything for sure,” she says. “We have to wait for the autopsy.”

  Autopsy. They’re going to cut his body open, examine and interpret his wounds. They don’t need to. I know what caused his death. It was her. It has to be her.

  They say everyone deals with pain and grief differently. I’ve been enraged since finding out about Remi’s death. Now, as soon as I enter my house and close the door, I cry. Tears roll down my cheeks like a waterfall. Maybe it’s because I feel safer here, seeing Mom and Dad running towards me and holding me in their arms. In that moment I forget the day and forget that my life is turned upside down.

  ***

  Finna hasn’t come to school in a week. She doesn’t reply to any messages or calls. Her mom told me she’s sick and I’ve just accepted it. I have other things in mind than Finna’s long-lasting hangovers. I lost my boyfriend. It hasn’t always been perfect, but I miss him so much. I couldn’t fall asleep for days.

  Even after a week they don’t have any clue how Remi died and where his injuries come from. Sage and Sofia have helped me get over my boyfriend’s death. I can’t imagine what his parents and Robert are going through right now.

  Most people in Seneca knew Remi and they know his parents. Mr. and Mrs. Cavanaugh are involved in politics, they’re parental representatives, and they made their two sons volunteer at the hospital. I’ve met them several times but we’re not so close that I would feel comfortable being around them after their son’s death.

  “Ready?,” Sofia who’s with me as my emotional support asks.

  I nod. For the first time when they open the door I don’t smile. And I’m not here to see Remi. I still have to remind myself that he’s gone.

  “Hi,” I say. “Can I come in?” I don’t need to explain why I came to their house today.

  “Aspen,” his mom says. “Sure, you can come in.” She steps aside, so I can enter. I’ve told Remi’s family about my cousin. “You must be Aspen’s cousin.”

  “Sofia,” she says, and they shake hands. “Nice to meet you. And my deepest condolences.”

  “We’re waiting for the police to stop by and give us more information,” his dad says with tears in his eyes as we walk inside. He’s always been a tough man. No tears. No emotional outbursts other than rooting for Remi’s football team.

  “I see,” I say.

  As the phone rings Mrs. Cavanaugh says, “excuse me.” Then she walks away.

  “How do you like Seneca so far?,” Mr. Cavanaugh says looking at Sofia. He doesn’t look like he’s in the mood for small talk.

  “I like it,” Sofia says. “It’s a nice town. Friendly.”

  He excuses himself and leaves as Mrs. Cavanaugh’s voice calls for him. I’m glad he’s gone because I can’t look him in the eyes and pretend like this couldn’t have been avoided.

  “This is too awkward for me,” Sofia says. “I think I’m gonna wait in the car, okay?”

  I nod since I know how misplaced she must feel in this house. She’s been her once while I’ve been here many times. I see Robert standing in front of the window. He stares outside completely motionlessly. He has a right to know what happened during the game. He’s so lucky he didn’t continue playing.

  “Robert,” I say. He doesn’t look good. He looks exhausted and pale. I don’t want to bother him, but he should know that it’s Tansy’s fault his brother is dead. “I have to tell you something.” I don’t continue until he turns around. “The game that Tansy’s played with us. I think it caused Remi’s death. Maybe she did it herself or maybe she poisoned him because he didn’t want to play.”

  I look at him for a moment because I expected him to stop me. I know how stupid I must sound. “Isn’t it weird how he dies out of nowhere after Tansy was at your house that night?”

  “I think you’re a suspect,” Robert suddenly says.

  At first I think my ears tricked me into believing he said you instead of she.

  “Me?” How could he believe I would ever hurt Remi?

  “I’ll tell the police that you have something to do with it,” he says. He comes closer, so I can feel his breathe on my face. “He wanted to break up with you.”

  Boy Found Dead on the School Grounds of Horace Blake High

  SENECA, CONNECTICUT

  BY ELEANOR JENNINGS | STAFF WRITER

  Published: 6:08 PM EST 21 August | Updated: 9:32 AM EST 22 August

  Seventeen-year-old Football player and high school student Remi Cavanaugh was found dead on a meadow behind the school’s main building. At this time, it is unclear what caused the teenager’s sudden death. The police did not confirm a homicide or suicide. An autopsy will be conducted to determine the exact cause of death and the origin of the boy’s injuries on his chest and back. According to Mr. and Mrs. Cavanaugh Remi was a completely healthy young man with no prior illnesses or medication intake. The police will make inquiries and ask potential witnesses to come forward.

  “This incident is very tragic for our school and his classmates,” principal Westchester said. “We are doing everything we can to help resolving the case.”

  A memorial event will be held for his fellow students and teachers on Friday.

  chapter 10

  We’re on our way to the auditorium. Today the principal is going to say something about Remi’s tragic death. We can’t just continue our daily routine. Most of us knew Remi and since he died here on the school grounds the principal is obliged to say something about it. I just can’t think of anything he could tell us to make his death less painful or shocking. What Robert said to me makes his death less painful to me. He said Remi told him he’s afraid to break up with me since I’m a fragile bitch (Robert’s words, not Remi’s). He wanted to be with someone else. There is only one person that could have tried to take him away from me.

  Melissa.

  She doesn’t go to Horace Blake but comes to Seneca regularly. I’ve seen them talking, laughing, flirting. I don’t know what exactly I have seen them doing but they always seemed close.

  “Along with Remi Cavanaugh’s friends and family we mourn for the loss of our beloved student, classmate, friend and football player,” principal Westchester says as
soon as he stands in front of the microphone, reading from a piece of paper he got from his jacket pocket.

  I sit between Sage and Sofia on one of the uncomfortable blue chairs that are lined up in front of the stage. Cris is physically present but she seems mentally absent these days. Whatever is going on with her it’s definitely not her mysterious school project. She’s quiet these days, introverted.

  “Unfortunately we have to tell you that the police are still investigating,” he continues. “As for now the cause of his death remains unclear. We still have a strict anti-drugs policy at Horace Blake. It’s for your safety. Don’t smoke or take any drugs. Neither on the school grounds nor anywhere else in town.”

  They can’t be serious about assuming Remi was using drugs. Remi never took any drugs. He smoked once because his brother offered him a cigarette but that’s it.

  He was a good guy.

  “In case you need counseling you can make an appointment with our school psychologist Mrs. Jeong,” he says. “She will help you handle this incident. I know some of you have never been confronted with death, so please, let us help you.”

  Whenever there’s an assembly Principal Westchester goes on stage prepared and carries a small piece of paper with him but after a while he just forgets about it, improvises and says whatever he has on his mind.

  After Westchester finished his speech we get up and walk past the flowers and letters that lie on the wooden ground between the stage and the audience. Besides flowers there are photos of him and his friends and the football team.

  “There’s one of us,” Cris suddenly says and stops.

  “A photo?,” I ask.

  “No,” she says. “A bouquet.”

  I scan the flowers and cards that cover the parquet. She’s right. There’s one bouquet wrapped in brown paper that has written our names on it. Aspen, Sage, Sofia, Cris, Finna and … I look up and scan the room. She’s not here. Tansy.