At Woods Edge

by E. M. Fitch

  Instead, she focused on the long corridor and the left hand turn she’d need to take to get to the cafeteria.

  “I was mean last night,” Ryan muttered, breaking into Cassie’s train of thought. She kept her eyes forward, not looking over at him.

  “Yes, you were,” she said. The cafeteria sign was up ahead, a long white arrow pointing left down a short hall. “We can’t do this right now. It’s not fair to the rest of them.”

  “You’re right,” he said, clearing his throat. “So, how are you holding up?”

  “Not great,” she answered honestly, surprised that he even asked. He nodded, his head down, hands in his pocket. “You must be a wreck. Did you sleep at all?”

  “Not yet,” he muttered, not looking at her.

  “Do you know what happened?” she asked, unable to restrain herself. Her hand longed to reach for his, she could feel it as an itch in her palm. But she didn’t, his hand wasn’t hers to hold anymore. Her stomach burned as she thought it. Ryan shook his head in answer.

  “People just started passing out. When I came up from the river, they were all just lying there. I thought maybe people were drunk. But, even that … And they were pale. Like, really pale. Like the blood got sucked right out of them.”

  Cassie’s brow furrowed. She didn’t understand. That was not an effect of any of the drugs she had ever learned about in Health class. She’d have to remember to ask her mother.

  They were quick in the cafeteria, grabbing a tray of coffee, a box of pastries, and a few granola bars. Cassie threw a couple bottles of water on the counter at the last minute and insisted on paying for everything. Ryan let her without a fight.

  They got back to the waiting room only moments before Cassie’s mother ducked her head in through the open door. Her hair was already coming undone and a stethoscope swung from around her neck.

  “Have you heard anything yet?” she asked, moving forward and letting the door swing shut behind her. Rebecca’s mother answered that they had not. Jon chugged down a lukewarm coffee, having already shoved an entire croissant in his mouth. He looked up just as her mother started speaking again. “I’ll call up there.”

  Within fifteen minutes, a nurse in blue scrubs was in the waiting room. She spoke with Cassie’s mom first in low murmurs. Cassie could tell her mother was arguing. “Cathy, we don’t have consent yet—”

  “These kids have been here all night!”

  “You know I can’t.”

  “I’m going up then,” she returned. The other nurse nodded in exasperation. Her mother turned toward the group waiting. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

  True to her word, Cassie’s mother returned quickly. Jon was on a second cup of coffee, his eyes bleary and red-rimmed. Rebecca was nibbling on a donut, not able to take a full bite even as her mother encouraged her. They both stopped as her mother came back into the waiting room.

  “Everyone is stable,” she said after they had gathered around her. “The girls are breathing on their own, brain activity looks normal. They’re not awake yet but the doctors are hopeful.”

  “And Mark?” Cassie asked, voicing everyone’s question.

  “Still on a ventilator,” she answered, never one to sugarcoat the truth. “Whatever they took, it hit him hard.”

  “What was it?” Rebecca’s mother asked, eyes darting among the waning teenagers that surrounded her.

  “Drugs, possibly,” her mother answered, her words halting and unsure. “At least, they thought that at first. The kids all lost a lot of blood with no obvious wounds though. Honestly, I’m not sure.”

  They didn’t cancel school, but the police presence was back. Lesson plans were hijacked. The school nurse and the health education teachers made rounds each period, impromptu lectures on safety and drug education dominated each classroom, which Cassie found odd, because no one could remember taking any drugs. At least, no one had admitted to it. She heard a couple sophomores talking in line in the cafeteria, waiting to buy sandwiches.

  “I bet it was Mark,” one of the kids whispered, looking around to spot the nearest teacher.

  “That kid?” his friend said. “No way! Clean cut, totally. Remember that time he caught his sister with weed? He flushed it. She was so pissed.”

  “Yeah, so? That was like two years ago. Maybe someone finally converted him.”

  “Don’t they piss test you for the sports teams? Doesn’t he play lacrosse?” another boy chimed in, turning around from the front of the line.

  “Baseball, I think,” the first boy said. “And yeah, I think they do. But that’s why this was some street stuff, something new that won’t show up in the piss test.”

  They paid for their lunches, one by one, and drifted off toward their table. It didn’t make sense. None of the rest of the school seemed to know about the blood loss. So it wasn’t this big thing that happened in the middle of the party. But according to her mother, each of the kids that had come into the hospital that night had needed IV fluids, each suffering from major dehydration. In every case, it was like they had been experimenting with bloodletting, though none of the kids remembered it. The three sickest, the students laying in the ICU had all needed two bags of actual blood pumped back into them. Her mother felt that was why Mark was having such a hard time coming around. His blood type hadn’t been standard; it took longer in his case to get the bags hung. Cassie took one look at the lunchroom, sandwich and drink in hand, and turned back around, heading for her father’s empty classroom.

  She passed the senior courtyard on her way down the hall. It was a sunny day, cool but bright. It would have been the perfect day to eat in the courtyard that was located in the center of her school, a space designated specifically for the seniors. Ryan and Jon were eating together at one of the picnic tables there. Rebecca was sitting with them. Cassie saw the girl’s head pop up from the picnic bench, looking toward the large glass windows that separated the courtyard from the hall full of lockers. The glare of the sun on the glass kept Cassie invisible and she was glad for it. There was only so much discomfort Cassie could take in a day, sitting near Ryan, him not making eye contact, her longing to rest her head on his shoulder and draw strength from his presence. No, it was easier to eat alone.

  She thought her father would be in the teacher’s lounge, he usually ate there, so she was surprised to see him at his desk, dripping leftovers onto the papers he was attempting to grade.

  “Oh, hey, Pops,” she said, stopping short at the threshold. He blinked up at her and then waved her in.

  “Been a while since we had lunch together,” he said, smiling as he gestured to the seat across from him.

  “Thought you ate in the lounge?” she said, collapsing in the hard desk chair and proceeding to unwrap her sandwich. Her father hummed.

  “Yes, usually, but people are annoying me today.”

  “Me, too,” Cassie admitted, taking a bite out of her pre-made turkey sandwich. She wished she had remembered to make her lunch, the pre-made stuff was always soggy and cold. She chewed quickly and swallowed.

  “Even Ryan?” her father asked, eyeing her over the papers he was now shuffling. The sandwich caught in her throat and she coughed.

  “Yup,” she choked out. “Even him.”

  “You know,” he persisted, watching her, “us teachers, we hear things.”

  “Oh?”

  “Sure, things about our daughters especially,” he said, pausing for a moment. Cassie felt her cheeks heat up. She avoided eye contact, taking a bite that was larger than she normally would to avoid conversation. “So when did you and Ryan call it quits?”

  “Dad!” Cassie protested. She took a quick sip of her drink, sputtering a bit as the fizz slid down her throat. She stole a glance at her father and found him regarding her patiently. He was not going to let it go. “About a week now,” she admitted quietly.

  “And you didn’t think to tell your mother or me?”

  “It really
has nothing to do with either of you,” Cassie murmured, not meeting his eyes.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, continuing quickly when Cassie regarded him with lifted eyebrows. “I mean, with your mother. Or with me, if you wanted to, I suppose.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Cassie said, a smile threatening at the look of relief that flooded her father’s face. He nodded, taking another bite of his lunch.

  “Works for me,” he said through a full mouth. “Do I have to rough anyone up?”

  Cassie laughed outright, imagining her argyle-sweater-wearing father beating up her ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t that she thought he couldn’t, but she’d never seen her father so much as smack a wall in frustration. The idea of him hitting a real, living person was so absurd it was comical.

  “I’m all set, Pops, but thanks,” she said, grinning. He nodded.

  “That’s good. Ryan’s pretty tall. And he’s looking a bit bulky lately. Must be all the hiking.” Cassie lowered her eyes again, murmuring her agreement. “You going to keep hiking? I was under the impression that you really loved it.”

  “I do,” she answered softly.

  “Because of him?” her father pressed.

  “No, because … ” Cassie paused, looking from her sandwich to the window. The sky was clouded and it looked like a storm was moving in. It would make for an uncomfortable softball game if it rained. Maybe lightning would follow and the game would be canceled. Cassie sighed, realizing as she thought it that she had never wanted games canceled in the past. “I love it because I feel like myself in the woods, more than anywhere else.”

  Her father looked thoughtful, chewing the bite he had just taken. “That’s a good answer,” he said at last, nodding at her. She offered a faulty smile just as the bell rang.

  The day passed in a blur. Nobody else was ill except for Mark, Lara, and Samantha. All the other students, the ones who were at the party and later in the ER complaining of headaches and dizziness, were all back in classes. Some behaved like wounded soldiers that had hovered on the brink of death and were now teetering back toward health, boasting about their trips to the hospital and showing off the small red marks where IVs had been inserted. Others were quiet, confused, and embarrassed, not wanting to talk to anyone about what had happened.

  Of course, that was the real problem; no one seemed sure just what had happened. It was as though everyone at the party had been intoxicated, even though several of them had sworn they hadn’t touched a drop. Still, no one had clear memories. Rebecca and Jon ditched the last class of the day, both of them having study hall, to go back to the hospital and sit with Samantha. Rebecca promised she would check in on Lara, too.

  Rebecca made it back in time for the softball game. Coach Kelly seemed relieved. She had to pull up the Junior Varsity third baseman to replace Lara. The entire team was on edge. The whole afternoon felt like a bizarre wake. Lindsey Crofton tried to snap them out of it after the close of the third inning. Cassie was grateful someone had finally said something, but it made little difference.

  “C’mon, people! She’s not dead! Lara would kick our asses to hell and back if she thought we were slacking off while she was in the hospital,” Lindsey shouted, jogging in from right field after catching a pop-up. Cassie knew she was right, they all did, but still they had trouble mustering the desire to play. Their coach must have seen it, or perhaps she was feeling that way, too. Coach Kelly didn’t even mark Lindsey down in her notebook for cursing. Two of her kids were missing now, Jessica and Lara. The strain was obvious to them all.

  They lost the game. Coach Kelly sat the players in a circle at third base. She made a short speech, but Cassie could barely absorb the words. Her thoughts were at the hospital, at Samantha and Lara’s bedside. She turned to Rebecca, eyes raised in question. Her friend nodded without having to actually hear the words.

  Rebecca was quiet on the drive to the hospital. Cassie sat in the passenger seat, watching her. Both girls had taken quick showers in the locker room; Cassie’s hair was still wet when she pulled it up. The day was overcast but warm, even with the sun sinking toward the horizon; the sleeves of Rebecca’s shirt were pushed to her elbows. Her muscles jumped in agitation as she gripped the steering wheel hard.

  “So what really happened after I left?” Cassie asked. She had spent the better part of the school day asking that over and over, pinning down anyone who would talk to her, making them retell their story. It didn’t make sense to Cassie. She hadn’t had a moment alone with Rebecca yet though, surrounded by first classmates and then their softball teammates. She wanted to take this time, the quiet bubble of isolation during the car ride, to give Rebecca a chance to talk. She saw the speculation on her friend’s face, the desire to sort out for herself what had happened. “C’mon, I won’t think you’re crazy.”

  Cassie spoke in a calm, quiet voice. She wasn’t sure if it was her tone of voice, or the acknowledgment that whatever Rebecca was thinking, it most likely was crazy; but either way, she did start talking. The words came slowly at first, an affirmation that it was real, that what she saw had actually happened.

  The party went on in the typical way. No parents showed up, bedrooms stayed off-limits, the river behind the house was freezing but that didn’t stop a select few from stripping and daring each other into the shallow, swirling flow. The cooler that had been full of an assortment of beer, mixed bottles, and labels of whatever could be lifted from family refrigerators, dwindled slowly throughout the night, people taking whatever they wanted from it. There was an entire case of Guinness in there that no one wanted to drink; Rebecca remembered the cooler being full of those by the end of the night.

  That was the last solid memory she had.

  “I didn’t really drink much, Cass,” she said slowly, shaking her head. “I really didn’t. I had one wine cooler after you left and only because Jon said he’d drive me home.”

  She remembered feeling fine one minute, maybe a little giddy, and then everything went fuzzy.

  “I was with Samantha,” she recalled. “I promised Jon I’d look after her for a bit, she was still a hot mess. Jon took off, for like, two minutes, I swear. I think he was trying to get Ryan into the river, teasing him into it, you know?”

  “There’s no way Jon could talk him into that,” Cassie murmured, knowing inherently that there was nothing Jon could do that would get Ryan to skinny dip. A flush warmed her chest when she realized that, had she been there, had Ryan and her still been a couple, she could have probably talked him into it. Maybe a little farther up from the rest of the partygoers, someplace private and quiet. She cleared her throat, forcing the image away with an ache and the flash of anger that followed. That possibility was so far gone from her now, now that she and Ryan were no longer together and only able to exchange stilted, bitter words. A terrible, invasive thought wormed through her brain. Maybe Jon couldn’t get Ryan to do it, but could another girl? Had someone tried after Cassie left?

  Rebecca started speaking again and Cassie firmly reminded herself, her relationship, or lack thereof, with Ryan wasn’t the most important thing right now. People were hurt.

  Samantha and Rebecca had still been on the back deck. Rebecca had no idea where Mark DeRubertis was. She did know Lara had been inside the house at that time, playing a card game with a few of the other softball girls, Joanie included, and the guys from the Volleyball team.

  Samantha had gone really quiet, Rebecca remembered that. She remembered that she didn’t want to speak much either. But it had been okay, soft and quiet on the back deck. People were still splashing and squealing in the water but then that went quiet, too. It had been like an eerie calm had swept over the whole party.

  “It started inside,” Rebecca said, her brow furrowing. “I’m sure it did. I remember thinking that maybe the guys playing cards had passed out. I saw a few guys in the windows, leaning over the girls on the couch. I remember them because their hats were bright red,
like vivid, and I didn’t remember seeing them before. I was about to get up and check on the girls. I knew Lara and Lindsey were in there, Joanie, too. But then I … couldn’t. I couldn’t move, or I didn’t want to, but it didn’t feel like it mattered either way.

  “And there was music. I remember it now.”

  “Did someone turn something on?” Cassie asked, curious as to why this should bother Rebecca. Cassie pictured the middle-schoolers she saw hanging around the stereo. The thought nagged in the back of her mind.

  “No. No, it wasn’t like that. It’s like it was coming from, oh never mind, it’s stupid,” Rebecca said, shaking her head. Her gripped tightened on the steering wheel, turning her knuckles white.

  “Becca, please,” Cassie pleaded. “Tell me.”

  Her friend shook her head slowly, not a no, an unsureness that whatever she was thinking was even sane. The hospital parking lot loomed ahead. Rebecca pulled into one of the nearest empty spaces.

  “You know the one thing I do remember?” Rebecca murmured, almost to herself. “One of the guys with the red hats, I swear he was in middle school. I remember thinking, who let this kid come here? So out of place.”

  “I saw some young kids, too. Did you recognize him?”

  Instead of answering Cassie, Rebecca nodded up toward the looming hospital building. “We should go check on them.”

  Cassie followed her out of the car as the wind whipped her hair from her face.

  Lara’s parents were both in her room. Cassie and Rebecca stopped there first, bringing with them a card signed by the whole team. Cassie hadn’t brought anything more elaborate because she wasn’t sure if she’d be allowed to, she knew from her mother that flowers were a no-go in the ICU and most other things seemed pointless when the person was lying unconscious on the bed. Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell seemed to appreciate the card anyway.

  Lara and Samantha were both scheduled to be moved to another floor soon, both stable enough to no longer warrant ICU stays. Both were still non-responsive though. Cassie hadn’t heard the word “coma” thrown around yet; but if there was another word that could accurately describe what was happening, Cassie didn’t know it.