Marigold is laughing. She's thinking about a trip she's going to take with her friends for spring break and is entranced by the fantasy as much as she is by the jokes and jabs of her friends. She has such a pretty laugh, and her glowing smile is the only thing that can make her more beautiful. I wish I could see it, but I ain't one of her circle, so I got to lean against a wall around the corner and try to listen over the sound of students rushing outside to go home.
She's a WHITETAIL, and one of the popular girls of Madrigal High, but she ain't nearly as mean as most of them are. She also manages to have upper-class elegance without upper-class snobbishness. I dare say that she's the person that the others think they are. She's kind, thoughtful, and caring. She holds herself with endless dignity. She has the confidence to be seen going out with another girl and own it. She might even deign to be seen going out with a THAMIN deer.
I know I have something I want to say to her. I know that I can just start talking to her and she won't sneer at me and shove me to the ground and grind my face into the dirt. But that doesn't mean I can interrupt such a lovely time for it, and I also ain't want to talk about this while everyone is watching. I'll have a chance later today, anyhow.
Myria has to shout over the sound of the pop-techno music. "Are you sure you should be here?" She asks. "You might have to spend only three hours reading today!"
"I ain't know what I was thinking either!" I shout back, jostled by someone trying and failing to do a totally awesome dance move. My cup full of fruit punch luckily only spills on the floor and not on myself. "So where's the hard drugs?"
"Ask Neveah, I'm pretty sure he's got actual alcohol, which is kind of like drugs!" She jokes. So Neveah's up to his usual game.
"I'll consider it!" I shout. The room is dark and there's so much movement that I can hardly cross without someone running into me. Every social group in school except for emos is represented here (good riddance), and they are all looking for a good time. Party-goers jockey and maneuver through tight hallways filled with other party-goers with their own goals, and a layer of noise covers everything. It's so loud in the house that everyone has to shout to be heard, which only makes it louder.
"Fuck Mrs. Pierce! Fuck her and fuck her pop quizzes!"
"I saw me a raccoon the other day! Did you know we still had any? I know, I didn't believe it either!"
"Are you ever worried that you'll never figure shit out?"
"No, I love drinking! Why? Am I making a face? Oh, I am? Well, uh..."
"You should join the Football team! No, it's ain't European Football, it's Chimerican Football!"
"There ain't enough guys here, this party is lame! Shut the fuck up, Sarah, what do you know about being hot?!"
The only reprieve is at the far end of the living room, where Axis (still wearing his fucking boots) is standing on a chair so he can see his adoring fans. Axis might be a rich kid, a blowhard, a liar, and a downright prick, but he's also hot as hell, can carry two girls at once, and has a voice like butter. He's irresistible to straight women. I have to thank him; there are worse ways to find out you're a lesbian. He also draws such crowds when he gets going on quantum mechanics or whatever that there's always somewhere you can blend into, or wait for the flow of living traffic to slow down.
I have to talk to Marigold. I only came to this loud, obnoxious, stupid party because she'd be here. I already know these kids and I don't think I'll discover their hidden depth if they're screaming, or drunk, or both. She ain't inside. I make my way around the couch, through the crowds, out the entryway, and onto the front lawn. It's a cold winter night but the bodies and the movement help to cover it up. I'm wondering if the cops are going to show up to tell us about a noise complaint again. I wasn't here last time, but it ain't a real party unless everyone is talking about near-misses the day after. YOLO.
The festivities have spilled outside despite the chill, although plenty of kids have gotten their coats. The most attention-grabbing thing is Marigold herself. For once it ain't just me, she's in a painfully loud argument with Minno about something. I got no idea what about, but I ain't ever seen either of them shouting like this and I wish they'd stop.
I do my best to hang around, but it's just too hard to watch. I take a moment to go back inside. Even the noise and shoving is easier to deal with. When I'm done, I just barely catch Marigold storming away. Minno throws up her arms and shoves past me. Well, fuck. Herra comes up. "Enjoy the show?" She sardonically asks.
"Not really." I don't mind Herra. She's boring, but she's alright. I'm pretty sure she knows that I'm mostly using her as an excuse to be near her friend Marigold. "Think she'll be back?"
Herra shrugs. "Wouldn't blame her if she didn't. There's barely any alcohol here, and Minno really was being an asshole."
"What was the argument about, anyways?"
"Who knows?" She shrugs again.
I rub my arms in the cold. "I'm going inside, it's freezing."
I wonder if I missed a good chance again.
The next morning, Marigold didn't show up for school. We all have our rough edges, but she was not rough enough that skipping was normal. The teachers didn't say anything, but in between classes, Herra grabbed me, literally grabbed me, and started pulling me outside. "Hey. Herra! What are you doing?!" I cry with annoyance.
"Mari isn't responding." She states.
"W-What?" A thousand possibilities flash in my mind, ranging from obviously bad to subtly bad.
"We've been texting her all morning, but she ain't sent anything back. Something's up."
"Well, what does that have to do with us?"
Herra stops and looks at me. "We were some of the last people to see her. We're going searching."
I'm indignant. I'm not a cutter, and I did have plans for today. I'm not going to stop her, of course, because if she asked I would have said yes in a heartbeat, but I'm annoyed she didn't ask. It's the principle of the thing. Well, I guess the new Artio Cervio album leak will just have to wait. I am so glad I'm not obsessive about him like some of the others are.
She leads me to the playground out back. A few others are standing there already, the rest of Marigold's circle. Kanteen, naturally, is the first to speak up. "Why are we bringing her along?"
"Because she would wish she were here if we didn't." Herra states.
Kanteen groans and rolls her eyes.
My instincts tell me to double-check to make sure we are, in fact, ditching school to search for our missing friend, but come on, what else could we possibly be doing? This is going to be an interesting part of my record, normally I'm above this sort of thing. Damnit, if Marigold really is in trouble I would do a lot more for her.
Synne is already on the other side of the chain link fence around the yard and checking her phone. The others start climbing one at a time now that the gang is all here, plus me. Oswin is always picked first for gym activities once all the actual athletes are taken, so he helps Ryleigh, who is always picked last.
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"That dumb bitch is going to owe us an apology for this." Minno grunts with annoyance and exertion.
"Minno, shut the fuck up." Kanteen says.
Synne has a car. Herra has a car and a driver's license. I ride with Herra, and let another part of the group go with Synne. They set out to retrace Mari's steps from the party to her house. We try and go the other direction.
From our side, we confirm that Marigold never came home with her parents, then we walk for an hour before we get to where the party was. There's no trace of her. Oswin texts us that Mari took a wrong turn and they're following her tracks. We make our way to them. They're standing by the roadside, next to a ditch covered in a layer of boulders. There's tall grass on either side. The shoeprints which they assume to be Mari's disappear into the grass on one side and they can't find where they come out on the other. We walk some more. We debate and come up with nothing. This is the first time that day I catch myself biting my lip, which always happens when I'm concerned. Noon comes and goes. We get to a rest stop and convene there to discuss.
We ain't quite defeated, but we are out of ideas and tired of walking. It may be a few picnic tables and a public restroom, but the soft wood is more inviting than the unbridled chilling air. I like inviting. It helps me take my mind off the fact that Mari is missing and no one knows what to do. It's like she just disappeared into thin air. But she was following the road, right? Why would she go off-course? How? This place isn't that rural, where could she have possibly disappeared into? Oh, God, what if she's dead? I'm trying to hide how scared I am, scared that I'll never see her again. I look up and Synne is just as nervous. Great. I have fucking competition. Freda is also fidgeting uncomfortably, but she just does that.
The conversation about potential clues lulls, and Minno leans her head back. "You know, what we were arguing about was such a dumbass antler-measuring contest. Why do I keep doing this shit?"
Synne is puffing on a blunt. Kanteen performed the most exasperated sigh when she pulled out the hand-rolled cigarette, but Synne ignored her. "She got abducted by aliens. That ain't your fault."
Minno just grunts.
"It ain't aliens, moron." Kanteen says. "I don't know what it is, but it ain't fucking aliens."
Ryleigh speaks up. "I don't mean to be rude, but, uh, why is she here? No offense, Thamin, it's just that, you know... you don't normally hang out with us."
"Ah, well, I..." I was not expecting to be dragged into the conversation.
"Check your coat pocket, Tam." Herra says. I reach in and find only my set of gloves. "Other pocket." Herra continues. My hand brushes against paper. I'm wearing the same jacket as last night.
"Come on, now's not the time, is it?" I plead.
"Yes it is," Herra sighs.
I take a deep breath and pull out the envelope. It's light pink paper and decorated with bright red heart stickers. I choose my words carefully, giving each one time to make sure I know what I'm saying before I say it. "I... am in love with Marigold and I've been trying to find the right time. I keep wanting to admit it to her, but..."
The others understand it, even if not all of them get it. "How long have you been waiting to say it?" Ryleigh asks.
For the first time since this adventure started, Freda talks. "She's been watching us from a distance for the last three months."
"Wh- what the fuc- Why?" Kanteen demands.
"Nervous?" Freda guesses. Kanteen groans loudly.
I push my way back in. "So, ah, is, Mari, you know..."
No one talks at first. "Odds are good." Oswin mentions. "She ain't hit on me. That's pretty rare."
"Babe, they know you're mine. None of these girls have hit on you." Ryleigh mentions.
"It's a data point." Oswin replies. He looks at me and his face contorts into a message; "let her keep thinking that".
Herra says, "Well, I think it's worth a shot. If she ain't into you, better to have your heart broken now so you can start looking again sooner. And if she is, you've got more time to enjoy it."
Synne's eyes go wide and the blunt disappears into her mouth. Over the rustling of the leaves, an approaching car is slowing to a stop over the gravel parking lot. It's a police car. "Excuse me," the warmly-dressed officer calls to us as he steps just outside of the vehicle. "What're you girls doing out right now?"
A few quick glances are exchanged. Kanteen takes the lead. "We're looking for a friend of ours. We think she went missing around here. We were just going over when we last saw her."
Even through the cold-weather face mask, the cop is visibly uncomfortable with our answer. "You all should get home. There's a maniac on the loose. We don't know where he is, but he's killed before and he'll damn well do it again."
"Really? Hell." Kanteen replies. She checks, and most of us don't look like we're willing to risk death trying to find someone we probably won't find. "Thanks for the heads-up, we'll leave right now."
"Oh, uh, who is this friend of yours?" He asks.
"Marigold Fitz, she's a student at our high school." Kanteen yells.
The officer sucks a breath in. "Can one or two of you come with me?"
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Herra stands up. I stand up behind her. She waves me to back down. I don't. Better I learn sooner, right? I glare at her.
Your fucking loss. Her look says back.
My heart is racing in the back of the police car. The hard seats and lack of seatbelt fades into the background as I try to keep from digging my nails into my skin any more than I already have. I might be hyperventilating.
Beaufleu was a small town outside Citico and had become the main headquarters of the current hunt. I'd been here a few times and found nothing of value. Now it was worth even less to me. If I left now, though, I would worry, and fret, and in the end I would find out what happened and be in the same place I was walking into. The knowledge that there was no escape was the only thing keeping me from running away.
I was quite thankful that, when we pulled into a shitty bar crawling with cops, we instead got out and walked to the building beside it. A morgue. Apparently the city planners wanted the alcoholism experience to be as smooth as possible. Hahahaha...
There was no pomp or circumstance. The attendants knew that a policehog was coming with two high schoolers in tow to try and identify a body. My heart was weak with thoughts of how badly mangled the remains must be that it was completely unrecoverable. We walked into the slab room in the back and the result, as it turned out, was so much worse. The killer had simply stolen everything that could easily identify her. What he left behind was a limp corpse, splayed out on the granite. She almost looked as if she were still alive, save for the uncanny stillness. Her face was so badly mashed and bloodied that I would have never seen someone who lost a fight harder, but she would have been alive.
"Why... is she... why is she partially undressed?" I choke out.
One of the police in the room looks away and cringes. "Forensics ain't gotten back to us, but... it's not looking good."
It was so funny. All that worrying, and now I had Marigold in front of me, her beautiful face little more than a battered pulp, her clothes torn open for her murderer to play with whatever he wanted, eyes that saw indescribable pain and terror even in their all-consuming emptiness. I hardly felt anything.
It was not hard for the morticians to put Marigold back to the way she had looked when she was alive. All the cuts, the broken bones, the blood, it could either be washed off or covered up easily. When she was lowered into her grave, she was just as I knew her. So beautiful. So elegant. So comforting just for being in her presence. I had never cried, never screamed, as hard as I did that day, on my knees in the grass ruining the lovely black dress my parents had picked out for me. I think I outdid all of her actual friends. I wouldn't know. I couldn't hear.
It was cool to be colorful, peppy, energetic. To spread fun and good feelings. I had been a proponent, because who didn't like free love and universal friendship? After the funeral, it was weeks until I was comfortable in bright tones. How could I be? The world was fucked up. People weren't supposed to be happy. I didn't want to be pretty or cute and accidentally make someone feel good. No one should be happy in such an evil reality. It just wasn't right.
But now I had some good friends. Marigold's social circle accepted me as one of our own and we suffered together. A little tough love from a broken girl to a shattered one was more than I could have asked for and it's what I got. In time, even I learned to swallow down the pain and rejoin the masses of the ungrieved, if just in spirit.
I wasn't the same. Nightmares were a regular occurrence. Sometimes a word or a gesture would remind me of her and I'd have to force the tears to stay back. The hole in my heart remained but great mounds of scar tissue built up around it. Then, once again, if the stars were right and the weight of loss was light enough, I could smile.
After four months, I couldn't say when I would get over it, but it was looking possible that I might. And that was something worth hoping for.