Take the Fall(40)

“Not at all. Come sit with us.”

“Thanks.” She looks over her shoulder and sinks into the seat. “I just need a change of scenery. You don’t mind, do you?”

I follow her gaze and recognize a couple of her friends at a table of juniors.

“Of course not. Is everything okay?”

She sighs. “It’s fine. I’m just kind of tired of it, you know? No one will have a normal conversation with me. They’re too busy asking how I’m doing or they’re worried about saying the wrong thing.”

Aisha looks at her lap when Kirsten says this. Haley leans into Yuji. After our last couple of meetings I’m not sure why Kirsten would choose my company, but she’s acting more like the timid girl I’m familiar with. There’s a clear tremor in her voice and she hardly looks up.

I touch her arm. “I’ve been getting that too. Especially at home.”

“Oh, my parents are the worst.” Kirsten tips her head toward the ceiling. “They won’t stop hovering and asking if I want to go to therapy.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve had years of therapy and it hasn’t helped me.” Haley slides a bag of chips toward Kirsten. “You want these? I’m not going to eat them.”

Kirsten smiles tentatively. “Thanks.”

I roll an unpeeled orange around in front of me while Kirsten crunches through the bag of chips and Haley manages to make sharing peanut butter and jelly with Yuji look romantic.

“So, what about you, Sonia? What are you going to wear?” Aisha’s voice is light, like all of this—me sitting here with Gretchen’s little sister, Haley and Yuji at the same table, holding hands—is totally what we all expected to happen two weeks ago.

“Wear?”

“To prom.”

“Oh.” I look at Kirsten, the blood rushing to my face. It seems wrong to discuss this in front of her, until I realize that’s exactly what she was just complaining about. “I’m not sure I’m even going to go.”

“What?” Haley pulls herself away from Yuji. “You have to. The student council voted to put it on in memory of Gretchen. That’s the only reason we’re even still having prom.”

“I don’t have a date,” I say, hoping she’ll drop it. “I’ll probably just work that night.”

The bell rings and I get up quickly, avoiding everyone’s eyes. I turn away to organize my backpack, but then I notice Kirsten lingering at my side. I pull my sleeves down over my fingers.

“What class do you have next?” I ask.

She wrinkles her nose. “Trig.”

“I’ve got chemistry. I’ll walk you there.”

She falls into step beside me and we move in silence. Growing up, Kirsten was the kind of kid who was terrified of spiders, but never wanted anyone to kill them. Gretchen would roll her eyes every time she said shoot instead of shit. Disregarding a few understandable moments this past week, she’s probably the most benign person in Hidden Falls, but halfway down the hall I get this urge to run away, as far as I can get from her. I immediately feel awful. Kirsten lost Gretchen every bit as much as I did—more. They were sisters. If she’s reaching out, I should be there for her. It just feels . . . weird.

“The school asked us for approval about the prom thing,” she says.

“Oh, I wondered. I guess if your family is comfortable with it . . .”

“Principal Bova didn’t want to do it without the okay from my parents, and my dad was ready to say no, but then my mom got stuck on how excited Gretchen was for prom. She had that dress hanging on her closet door for weeks. She didn’t have a date anymore, but she didn’t care. My mom swore she’d never forgive herself if Gretchen’s ghost couldn’t glide around the dance floor the way she’d planned.”

I trip over my own foot. “Your mom said that?”

Kirsten coughs. “She’s been going a little heavy on the painkillers.”

I don’t know how to respond to that.

She stops in front of the door to trig. “You know, we’ve been packing up some of Gretchen’s things. Mostly clothes and stuff. You should come over and take a look. See if there’s anything you want.”

I raise one eyebrow. Hanging out with Kirsten at lunch and between classes is one thing, but raiding Gretchen’s closet? It doesn’t take a lot of imagination to guess what Gretchen would have to say about this. There were few things she got truly livid about, but Kirsten even setting foot in her room was one of them. She went so far as to lay a piece of masking tape across the threshold that her little sister couldn’t cross without winding up grounded. Agreeing to this would be like a huge betrayal. But I never did get inside her room during the reception, and the intruder could have left anything behind that the sheriff might have missed if he didn’t know how things should be. I study Kirsten out of the corner of my eye, wondering if this is really about clothes, or if it’s something else.

“It’ll just end up at Goodwill if you don’t. I’m sure there are things she would’ve wanted you to have.” She slides her bag off her shoulder and looks at her feet. “Okay, I’ll admit my mom asked me to ask—she said it’d be nice to see you. But I mean it, you really should come.”

“Your mom said that?” Guilt twists through my gut. I could’ve actually stopped by their house on the way to Marcus’s the other day. At the same time, walking through Gretchen’s front door after the funeral was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I was hoping I’d never have to do it again.