Caela couldn’t shake the feeling that her friends, despite all their proclamations of missing her and wanting her to come visit over fall or Christmas break, had moved on. She was out of sight and out of mind.
Maybe she could have tried to talk to them, tell them how she felt and worked to mend the rift that was forming. But any optimism she might have had was being slowly crushed out of her by each miserable day at school.
With every passing day, Caela hated that school more. She hated that when she tried to bring up the bullying to her coach, she was brushed off. She hated that the tiny school had no AV club or any opportunities for her to use her camera. She hated that her mother had no interest in hearing any of her complaints, because as far as she was concerned, Caela must have been the problem.
But most of all, she hated the loneliness.
“I dunno what to tell you, Cae,” Bonnie said one night in October as they stood outside of Ricci’s after their shift. She was swiping through videos on her phone and leaning against Jennette. “School sucks.”
“Yeah,I guess.”
“You’re what? A senior?”
“Junior.”
“Crap. I can’t even tell you it’ll be over soon, then.”
Caela sighed and reached for the handle of her driver’s-side door. “I should get home.”
“What’s the rush?”
“Curfew. My parents will be furious if I’m home late.”
Bonnie rolled her eyes. “Aren’t they always furious anyway?”
“Pretty much.”
“So why go home?”
Caela raised her eyebrows. “What did you have in mind instead?”
Bonnie started walking toward Jennette, tossing a mischievous grin over her shoulder at Caela. “I have an idea. If you wanna get some of that anger out.”
Twenty minutes later, Caela was parked outside the trailer Bonnie shared with her mother, watching as her only friend jogged back to the passenger’s side holding a bundle cradled in her arms. Caela reached over and popped the door for her so that she could climb inside.
“Take this,” she said, tossing Caela a black hoodie. “And putthe hood up. School’s got security cameras. They ain’t good ones, but they got them.”
“Security cameras?” Caela asked as she pulled on the hoodie. “You still haven’t told me what we’re doing.”
Bonnie grinned and held up two cans of spray paint. “We’re gonna tell everyone what kind of hole of misery that school really is.”
Caela stared at the cans. A sudden sense of nostalgia and loss weighed heavy on her chest. “You want to graffiti the school?”
“Yeah. Obviously. Now go, before Mom wakes up and sees us out here.”
Caela drove the five minutes to the high school, parking Jennette half a mile down the road, on the other side of a cornfield. Memories of sneaking down back alleys to watch the creation of colorful paintings on brick walls poured like waterfalls into her mind as they walked toward the school’s parking lot.
“You gotta know I love you, Cae,” Bonnie said as she pulled the hood up on her own hoodie. “Because I never thought anyone would be able to get me to come back here.”
Caela was embarrassed to feel the sting of tears in her eyes at these words. It was the first time anyone had told her they loved her since the funeral, and even in this casual way, it nearly bowledher over with emotion. She swallowed it back, though, because she knew Bonnie would roll her eyes or poke fun at her if she saw that Caela was on the verge of crying.
They approached the brick wall on the north side of the gym, their way lit only by the pale orange streetlight on the far end of the parking lot. Despite the autumn chill, Caela could feel sweat beginning to bead on her forehead and at the base of her neck.
“Thought about what kinda art you wanna decorate this cesspit with?” Bonnie asked as she began to shake her spray can.
“I’m … not sure.”
Bonnie must’ve heard the way Caela’s voice trembled, because she turned to look at her then. Caela couldn’t see her eyes beneath her hood, but she could feel the prickle of judgment. “You chickening out on me?” she asked.
