Short Story
March 2018
Bridget didn’t believe in love at first sight, but when the pretty girl walked through the door, Bridget would have thought that Cupid himself had stabbed her with a love-laced arrow. It happened quickly, the way things always do when they concern love. Bridget felt the heat rise to her cheeks when, in all her staring, the girl actually stared back. Bridget looked away. She had never seen her before; Bridget would have remembered someone so beautiful, with her long brown hair draping over her shoulders. She walked in and sat in the front row, laughing along with the other kids, while Bridget stared from beside the teacher's desk.
The bell rang over the intercom, and the teacher closed the door behind her as she entered the room. “Good afternoon! How are we doing today?” The collective of seventh graders answered back in a variety of responses. The teacher walked through the desks to the front.
“I see a few familiar faces in the crowd. Welcome back! To those who don’t know me, hello! My name is Mrs. Zuri.” She wrote her name in big, blue letters on the whiteboard behind her. “I will be your English teacher for the semester. It’s an easy class when you try, and I rarely fail people. I don’t know a majority of you, so why don’t we go around the class and say our name and an interesting fact about ourselves?” She smiled. The class answered back in glum murmurs, glancing around at each other. “Tyler, why don’t you go first–of course, I already know you!” Mrs. Zuri said, patting the student in the front row to the very left.
The students rattled off their names one by one. Tyler, then Jesse, then Skylar, and then her, the object of Bridget’s affections, the one who had already stolen her heart, though she didn’t entirely know or understand why.
“My name is Mallory Milano and... I’m very interesting.” Even her voice was magnetic, pulling at Bridget from across the room.
“You can’t think of one thing?” Mrs. Zuri pressed.
Bridget imagined Mallory’s beautiful face pulling together in a look of deep thought.
“Umm... I like listening to music. Mainly punk.”
Mrs. Zuri nodded in approval and down the line they went. When it was Bridget’s turn, she hesitated, choking on the words before they could escape.
“M-My name is B-Bridget,” she stuttered, “I like to read.” Bridget glanced at her classmates, but thankfully, they weren’t really paying attention to her.
“Well, you’re going to love my class because reading is required,” Mrs. Zuri said.
Bridget was the last student to introduce themselves, so Mrs. Zuri picked up a marker and began writing on the board. “So, who can tell me what they know about poetry?”
Bridget opened her English notebook and started her notes being drawn into the lesson, but her gaze always strayed back to Mallory.
***
Bridget did not have many friends, but the ones she did have she held close, like small moons in her orbit. When she noticed Jasper walking out of his history class at the end of the hall, she ran up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and grinned. She swore he lit up the room with it.
“Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, definitely.” Bridget searched the crowd for Mallory, but the girl had vanished into the wave of students and teachers all filing out into the hallway.
“So, you’ve never played D&D before?” Jasper nearly shouted over the crowd.
“No, I’m excited!”
The pair pushed through the sea of teenagers, squeezing out through the front doors into the chilly spring day. Making it to the sidewalk, Bridget looked ahead of them and nearly jumped out of her skin. She had been staring at the back of that head the entire class period; she knew the slight dip and wave of the hair, the shade of brown that looked like her own. Her soft profile moved into her line of sight only for a moment.
“What are you staring at?”
“What? Nothing! What were you saying?”
“Carter is gonna meet us at the library. His mom dropped him off.”
Bridget nodded and then tripped over the uneven sidewalk.
“Watch where you're going!” Jasper laughed. “Something is up.”
“Something is up...Do you know anything about Mallory Milano?”
Jasper thought for a moment. They walked by the heavy school traffic. Big yellow buses roared by, brimming with students.
“She’s in two of my classes. Dated Alexander Cerver. Very popular.”
Bridget deflated. She didn’t exactly roll with the “popular” crowd in their school.
“Oh, she’s right up there — hey! Mallory!” Jasper shouted. To her horror, Mallory turned her head. She stopped, then. The other students around her kept walking. Bridget avoided her gaze.
“Do you wanna go to the library with us? We’re playing D&D, right, Bridget?”
“Yeah...” Bridget finally forced herself to look at Mallory, who was studying her quizzically, as though she were a math problem on her homework.
“Maybe next time, I should be heading home,” Mallory said and then she smiled. “You two have fun, though,” she said to Jasper and then gave Bridget a look she couldn’t place.
Bridget burned with embarrassment. She walked more slowly, letting Mallory walk ahead of them through town, and elbowed Jasper so hard in the ribs, he yelped.
“You’re an idiot, you know!” Bridget hissed.
“What? You were asking about her. I figured you wanted her to come play with us!”
“She probably thinks we’re so lame.”
“Screw what she thinks!”
“Keep your voice down!” Bridget stressed.
“Okay, okay, but seriously, screw what she thinks.”
Bridget sighed, knowing that she should heed his crass advice, but also knowing that it was harder than it sounded.
***
Bridget didn’t want to go home. Her mind was full of mythical monsters and wizards and the clatter of dice being thrown to the tabletop. She tried in vain to keep the game going, but the library was beginning to lock its doors. She had to concede.
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” Jasper asked. “You’ll be home in like, five minutes. You live across town.”
“I’m not going home yet, but thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jasper hugged her goodbye and hopped into his grandmother's van. Bridget pressed the button for the crosswalk. Traffic halted for the light, and she crossed to Main Street, feeling the ache begin in her back from her heavy bookbag. She walked by the Baptist church, then old Halford Academy, which stood abandoned. Tucked behind it, unassuming and nearly invisible if not for the plaque in front of the academy, was the Colton Burying Ground. She had been shown it by some older kids she knew in eighth grade. No one paid the cemetery any mind, except around Halloween, when ghost tours were taken through the old graves. She waited until the street was empty for a moment, then approached the gap in the stone and wood fence. She held the threshold stones and bowed her head, closing her eyes. Bridget tuned into her heartbeat and then, with the coldness of the stone beneath her palms, she felt pressure begin to build in front of her, rising from the Earth.
“Spirits of this place, I come here for refuge and peace. I come here not to disturb or disrupt your sleep. Let me rest among you,” she murmured, reaching out into the space around her. Bridget waited. A strong gust of wind wound itself through her hair, and she knew she had her answer.
“Thank you...” she whispered, entering the graveyard. The air around her cooled as she walked through the grass, side-stepping old tombstones. No one had been buried here in over a hundred years. Every grave held with it ancient names, dates, and stories lost to time. Angels, lambs, and flowers were etched into limestone and granite. Bridget watched the sun set, the sky turning purple and pink. She finally came to rest at the memorial of the Buckleys. It sat in the back of the cemetery, the large hill made of brick and outlined with limestone. A slab behind it listed dozens of names, all with the same last name, all of them belonging to the same family tree. Bridget liked this grave the most. It was big, and she could hide behind it easily, and not to mention, she loved studying the names. Peter, Abigail, John, Joshua, each one having been a person with hopes, dreams, and fears.
“Hello, I hope you don’t mind me stopping by. Let me keep you company,” Bridget said aloud, and she swore she could see the ghosts nod in earnest at her, grateful to have some company. Finally, some excitement in the dead of the graveyard.
***
Bridget took her seat in the second period the next day, and someone beyond her said, “Hey, can I sit here?”
Bridget jumped out of her chair. She looked at Mallory as though she had just landed from space.
“Oh! I didn’t know you were in this class,” Bridget explained, and motioned for the girl to take a seat.
“My schedule keeps changing, damn counselors." Mallory took out a large binder from her bookbag. “You’re Bridget, right?”
She remembers! She remembers me!
“Y-Yes th-thats me. Sorry, I stutter sometimes,” Bridget explained.
“I noticed. Have you always stuttered?”
“Yeah...” The science teacher walked through the cramped tables, passing out an assignment. Bridget tied her hair up in a ponytail, very aware of the presence beside her. Really, she couldn’t understand why Mallory put her on edge. Her attention was being pulled in her direction; it was as though they were magnets. Bridget found herself glancing to her right constantly. The science teacher's words were lost to her. The hour went by slowly.
“Pst... What's the answer for number seven?” Mallory whispered.
Bridget blinked and nudged her paper closer to the girl to let her look.
“Thanks. Did you have fun at D&D yesterday?”
“Yes... I don’t play very well, though.”
Mallory snickered. “Then why play at all?”
“We shouldn’t be talking during independent work,” the science teacher said, and Bridget pressed her lips together, looking at Mallory, who rolled her eyes. She took out a pack of sticky notes, then passed a note.
‘We’ll talk during lunch.’
Bridget smiled and wrote back, “See you then.”
The bell rang, and before Bridget could blink, Mallory was gone, having left the sticky note behind. Bridget folded the square and put it in her pocket.
***
The lunch bell rang, and Bridget raced to her locker, grabbing her lunch box. She searched the crowd for Jasper, or better yet, Mallory, but her stomach pulled her towards the lunchroom, and she obeyed its demands. Laughter and chatter filled the halls as the sixth graders left the cafeteria and the seventh graders entered. Bridget looked around at the rows and rows of tables, watching as they filled with the usual cliques and groups, and found a seat near the doors.
“Hey Jasper! Have you seen Mallory?” Bridget asked as Jasper set down his lunch tray.
“What is with you and Mallory? Why are you so—”
“I am not! It’s just a question! Oh, there she is...” Bridget’s voice died when she noticed that Mallory was walking to a different table.
“She's going by Rick and all of them,” Jasper noted, taking a large bite of his pizza.
“We were supposed to sit together...” Bridget said.
Jasper shrugged and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Maybe she forgot.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
Jasper swallowed. “Mmm, go ask her if she forgot.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“Do I have to do everything for you?”
“No! Don’t!” Bridget exclaimed, then shrank in her seat, hoping no one noticed her.
As if feeling her gaze, Mallory looked over at her table.
Bridget’s heart skipped faster.
Then, she was shoved off her stool. She hit the floor with a yelp, disrupting the students at the end of the table. Mallory had seen the entire thing.
“Jasper! What the hell?”
“I’m so sorry! Hahaha!” Jasper cackled loudly, slapping the table. “I was trying to get your attention!”
“So, you shove me out of my seat?”
Oh no, oh no!
She got up from the floor just as Mallory was walking over to their table.
Jasper was still laughing, and Mallory joined in.
“Are you okay?” Mallory asked, taking the empty seat right across from them.
“Yeah, I’m gonna kill him later, it's fine.” Bridget glared at Jasper, and Mallory giggled.
“Did you get that English assignment done?” Mallory asked.
“Yes, I did,”
“I didn’t end up doing it, might just find a poem online and use that. I’m not a writer.”
“If you need help, I’m free next period.”
Mallory frowned. “I have choir... but maybe before seventh period starts?”
“That works for me,” Bridget said.
“Thanks, Bridget.”
Just as soon as she had come, she had gone, and Bridget stared longingly after her, wishing to pull her back, but knowing she couldn’t.
Bridget stared until Jacob shoved at her again. This time, she was prepared. She hit him back, and he grinned. “‘Of course, Mallory, anything for you!’” he said in a high-pitched voice.
“Shut up!” Bridget laughed.
The bell rang, and lunch was over.
Her next few classes passed by slowly, and all she could think about was Mallory, and her long, brown hair, and her small nose, and those kind eyes. On her way to English, she went to her locker and was surprised to see the girl of her affections waiting for her, binder in hand.
“I figured we could walk to English together... if that's okay,” Mallory said, glancing from Bridget to her locker.
“Of course, Mallory,” Bridget breathed, and she swore she could taste the sweetness of her name.
“Did you work more on your poem?” Bridget asked, closing her locker, and starting the long walk to the English classroom.
“No... I just don’t know what to write about.”
Bridget hugged her English notebook to her chest. “It’s not so hard once you get some inspiration... I wrote about the rain.”
“The rain? That’s boring.”
“Poetry makes the boring... not boring,” Bridget explained. “It’s just a matter of describing something interestingly and throwing in some cool words to replace simple vocabulary.”
Mallory gave her an odd look. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”
“I have,” Bridget said simply, smiling as she entered the English classroom.
“You have? That’s really cool,”
And just like that, if she hadn’t already been, Bridget was completely smitten. She sat down in her seat, watching Mallory take hers, and sighed.
“I hope everyone got their poems finished! I cannot wait to hear them!” Mrs. Zuri said as she walked through the door, signaling the start of class.
“We will go one by one, and I expect everyone to be quiet and respectful while everyone reads aloud.” She eyes the group of boys near the back of the classroom.
Oh no, it's not ready!
She scrambled to get out a pen, quickly adding a few lines before it was her turn to read. Once it was her turn, she stood up as the others did, looked around, and took a deep breath.
“This poem is called ‘Rain’,” she began, and she heard a snicker come from the back of the class.
“Quiet!” Mrs. Zuri scolded, then motioned for Bridget to continue.
Bridget blinked hard and then noticed someone shifting in their seat. It was Mallory, and when they locked eyes, Mallory gave her an encouraging smile. Bridget began to read.
April
“Do you want to hang out after school?” Bridget asked the question quickly, before she could overthink, before she could sabotage her chances, before her anxieties talked her out of it.
Mallory didn’t answer. She was scrolling on her phone, hidden beneath the desk, a pained look on her face. “Hold on.”
“Sorry,”
Mallory was typing fast. Bridget couldn’t help herself and glanced down at the phone screen.
“My friend just... admitted that she liked me, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
Bridget tried to hide her shock behind an understanding facade, but she was afraid that Mallorey would see right through her.
“Oh...”
“Yeah, it’s just weird, you know? I don’t want to hurt her feelings,” Mallory muttered, her phone screen turning black. “After my breakup with Alex at the beginning of the year, I swore I would be single for a while. But now, I don’t know,” Mallory explained.
Bridget’s curiosity piqued. “Do you like this other person? Even though she's a girl?”
“I don’t know... that's another issue,” Mallorey whispered, putting her science folder in her binder.
Before Bridget could ask another question, the teacher began going over their homework. Bridget sat quietly, mulling over the problem, anxiety twisting in her stomach for the rest of the period.
***
“So, is she bi or something?” Jasper asked.
“I don’t think I know what that means,” Bridget said, shoving the last of her sandwich into her mouth.
“Bi means you're attracted to both boys and girls,” Jasper explained.
“I thought that was...” Bridget’s sentence trailed off, blushing. She had always been told that it was a sin, that it was wrong, an abomination. Bridget had never seen it, never heard of it. It was strange, unfamiliar.
“It's totally fine to be bisexual,” Jasper said pointedly. “You can’t help who you love.”
“I guess,” Bridget agreed, taking a long swig from her water bottle. She didn’t much like where this conversation had gone. “L-Lets maybe change the subject?”
Jasper looked at Bridget for a long time, so long that she began to squirm.
“You know it's okay to be bi, right?” he asked.
Bridget nodded and searched the lunch tables for Mallory. Mallory, who was her friend. Mallory, with the long brown hair. Bridget didn’t know why she was so infatuated with her, but she was beginning to see through the haze.
***
“Whenever you guys are done with that assignment, you can free read!” Mrs. Zuri’s boots clicked on the tile floor as she walked across the classroom, pushing aside the curtains and pulling up the blinds to let the sun in.
“I call dibs on the window seat!” Mallory said, springing up from her seat and making her way over to the bay window. Bridget smiled and tucked the finished assignment back into her notebook.
She watched for a while as Mallory got comfortable, her back against the wall, tucking into her book, which she had been working on for the better part of a month. Bridget noticed things like that. She smiled at Mrs. Zuri and returned her most recent book back to the teacher's desk. Bridget walked across the room near Mallory, pretending to study the bookcase to find her next read. She ran her fingers along the spines of the paperbacks, far too enamoured with the girl so near she could reach out and touch her.
She found a thick novel with a black spine and thumbed through its first pages, then flipped to the back to read the synopsis.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Mallory inquired, looking up over the top of her book.
Bridget grinned. “I have. Mind if I sit?”
Mallory made room, swinging her legs towards the floor. They sat flush next to each other, backs to the window, sun streaming through the glass. It was warm, here, and bright. Bridget looked out over the classroom and back at Mallory, who had set aside her book.
“Are you enjoying it?” Bridget asked, motioning to the abandoned hardback.
“Not really, but I don’t know what else to read,” she shrugged.
“I could help you find a good book—”
“That’s okay...” Mallory said and then gave her that strange look that she couldn’t dissect, couldn’t figure out. Bridget studied her eyes, for a moment, and realized with a start that they were as grey as storm clouds, as grey as stones smoothed by the sea.
“D-Did you, uhm, figure out what you were gonna do? About the friend?” Bridget said tentatively.
Mallory frowned and looked away. “No... I think she’s just gonna have to understand that I don’t feel the same way. I can’t help who I love.”
I can’t help who I love. Who I love. Does she love someone?
Bridget thought back to her conversation with Jasper earlier in the day. Mallory seemed to lean closer, and before she knew what she was doing, Bridget set her cheek against Mallory’s shoulder.
She was infatuated by the smell of shampoo and the faint scent of perfume, something akin to cherries, chewed down to the pit. Bridget anxiously glanced around, hoping that Mrs. Zuri wouldn’t notice, that none of their classmates would call attention to them.
“You're so tense...” Mallory murmured, and her hand was in Bridget’s hair, gently combing through the strands, and Bridget swore she was caressed by an angel. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Her shoulders dropped, as did her resolve, mind swimming with a bliss she hadn’t ever known before. Bridget knew that this was special. This moment, these precious seconds, was all she may ever have. She basked in it like she would the sun.
Then, it was over. The bell rang for the end of the period, and Mallory shifted in her seat. Bridget straightened, the unwinding of her seams tightening again. The hand in her hair departed and Mallory shouldered her backpack.
“I’ll see you tomorrow...” Bridget said quietly.
“I would stick around and hang, but I have to be home.” Mallory avoided Bridget’s gaze.
“That's okay, maybe we can hang out sometime after school.”
“Definitely,” Mallory said, and walked towards the door without saying goodbye.
***
“Wow, didn’t know you had game, Bridget.” Jasper teased.
“How many times do I have to tell you to shut up?”
Jasper laughed and ran to catch up with Bridget’s hurried pace. It felt warm today, the sun piercing her eyes.
“I can’t believe you are going on a date with Mallory, Mallory Milano, of all people!”
“First of all, it's not a date, we haven’t even decided to hang out yet. Second of all, what is that supposed to mean?”
Jasper scratched his head. “How do I say this—she’s kind of a bitch, you know? She doesn’t have the best reputation. She and Alex ended really badly.”
Bridget glared at him. Jasper adjusted his book bag on his shoulders and waved to a passing car that honked at him. Bridget stared ahead at the other students, her mind churning through memories. Seeing Mallory for the first time in English class, their brief conversation, the sticky note she put in her English notebook, and their shared laugh over lunch. Their moment in the bay window. None of it seemed suspect, none of it felt wrong to her.
“Bridget, Bridget!” Jasper practically had to shout before the girl had noticed.
“Sorry, sorry, what were you saying?”
“You gotta stop doing that. I was saying that you need to figure out what your deal is with Mallory.”
“It's nothing, really.” Bridget could taste the lie on her teeth like the sour tang of a lemon.
“C’mon, Bridge, you’re a terrible liar,” Jasper said, his young face stern.
Bridget pressed her lips together, refusing to take part in the conversation, but it loomed over her like a shadow. It was getting harder and harder to deny her body, her heart, her head. There was something there, in the English classroom that afternoon. There was something there, in the way Mallory smiled at her.
Bridget and Jasper walked through town until they reached the green, ringed with oak trees and bushes. They crossed the street and lingered by the wooden gazebo.
Jasper set his backpack on the steps and sat down with a groan. “You're torturing yourself with all this back and forth. Just tell her.”
“Tell her what, exactly?” Bridget snapped. “Tell her what, Jasper?”
“How you feel?”
“I don’t know what I feel...”
Jasper rolled his eyes. “You do, you just don’t want to admit it.”
Bridget shook her head and sat down on the steps with him. It took her a long time to muster up the courage to speak again.
“I can’t... I can’t risk it, Jasper,” she whispered. “What if I’m bi? What if she isn’t? What if she doesn’t like me?”
“It's okay to be bi, it's okay to ask, it’s okay if she doesn’t feel the same!” Jasper spread his hands.
“But it’s not okay!” Bridget exclaimed. “I feel like I am gonna die because of this!”
Jasper started laughing, and despite her frustration, Bridget laughed too. They laughed from the belly, full and loudly, almost loud enough to drown out the midday traffic wrapping all around the town green.
“You're so dramatic!” Jasper wiped away the tears.
“I am!” Bridget cackled. This felt so much bigger than herself. It felt like the world might collapse on top of her if she didn’t hold it up above her shoulders. The weight was beginning to debilitate her, she could feel it, the depletion of her strength, the desperation she could sense building. Her laughter died.
“Jasper... would you still be friends with me if I were bi?” she asked, studying her shoelaces.
“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “And if Mallory won’t be friends with you because you are bi, she’s weird.”
Bridget smiled a little and shrugged. “When did you become so... smart?”
“Ha! Don’t give me that much credit,”
“You're right, you're failing all of your classes.”
“Hey! I am passing history! Only because Mrs. Gray didn’t finish grading the homework, then I’ll be failing.”
Bridget watched traffic go past the green, her head and her heart in a fierce battle. Her heart was winning.
May
Hey, do you wanna hang out today after school?
Bridget stared long and hard at her phone, wondering if she was misreading the text message. But it was real, it was true, and it was awaiting a response.
Sure, meet me by the front doors near the buses.
The bell rang, and she rummaged through her book bag, looking for her homework.
She wants to hang out, she wants to hang out, what for, why now? Her teacher started writing math equations on the board, but she was barely present enough to notice.
***
The day crawled by slowly, at a torturous pace. She smiled at Mallory in second period and kept to herself, already daydreaming about their afternoon together. She boasted to Jasper about her sudden good luck, and he squeezed her shoulder and said, “Now's your chance. Be brave.”
All day, the thought of Mallory consumed her; she caught herself humming a song that Mallory liked, and she noticed that she scoured the hallway in search of that long, brown hair. She even daydreamed during English, glancing at Mallory’s every movement, how she seemed to catch the light from the window so perfectly. At last, the school bell rang, and Bridget was all too quick to shoulder her backpack and meet Mallory by the door.
“How was your day?” Bridget asked, trying to hide the obvious excitement within her.
“It was long,” Mallory frowned.
“Tell me about it,” Bridget prodded.
Mallory shrugged.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah...”
Their conversation was cut short by the mob of students cycling around them. Bridget waited until they got outside and smiled up at the sun. “Do you wanna get ice cream? My treat.” Bridget patted her pocket full of quarters.
“Eh, not really.”
It was Bridget’s turn to frown. “What's up, girl?”
“I... don’t know how to explain it.”
She reached out to touch Mallory’s arm, and the girl did not flinch away. Another moment that would live in her.
“So... we didn’t talk about where are we going,” Mallory asked after a long bout of silence.
Bridget smiled devilishly. “The cemetery, is that okay?”
Mallory rolled her eyes. “I didn’t know you hung out with the dead.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Bridget said slyly, and Mallory laughed, the greatest triumph Bridget could imagine. She saw sparks fly.
“Oh yeah?” Mallory mused, her eyes lidded with an emotion Bridget couldn’t name.
“Y-Yeah, I- Uhh-” Bridget began to stutter, feeling her chest tighten. “Yeah, like, um...”
“Like?” Mallory pressed, suddenly moving closer.
“I can talk to ghosts!” Bridget blurted out, and right when she did, she felt the regret spread over her like cold water.
Mallory laughed. Bridget geared up to defend her case, but Mallory said, “Well, let’s go and see it, then.”
Bridget’s hands grew clammy as they continued walking. They passed the ice cream shop at the far end of the street and spied Jasper in the window with his friend Carter. Jasper saw her, then rushed outside. “Hey! Meet us at the library later!” He shouted.
“Okay!” Bridget gave him a thumbs up.
“D&D?” Mallory asked.
“No, I think they just wanna hang out, is that cool?”
“That’s whatever.”
Bridget and Mallory crossed the street and walked up to the entrance of the Colton Burying Ground. She stopped Mallory before she could enter.
“Just give me a sec...” Bridget set her hands on the stones of the entrance and closed her eyes. It took her a long moment to focus; she was very aware of Mallory’s gaze, and breathing, and what she may be thinking, but she was able to put it all aside, tune out the traffic behind them, and breathe. She breathed, and exhaled, and felt the static fill her mind. One by one, they appeared to her, not the spectral phantoms in the movies, but the faint whispers of life curling through the air.
“Spirits of this place, we do not wish to disturb you. We come here to find rest. Please, remain in your graves.” Bridget opened her eyes and the world was bathed in light, and cast upon the ground, were long, silken shadows.
And then, she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Can we go in?” Mallory whispered in her ear.
Bridget nodded and let her hands fall from the stones. “Yeah... I have something to show you.”
Bridget took Mallory’s arm and guided her through the graveyard. The wind did not touch them here, and the sounds of traffic were strangely absent. Their breaths came slower, despite their hurried feet through the tall grass. Within a few long strides down the hill, they had made it to the back of the cemetery.
“I actually haven’t been back here,” Mallory said, looking around. Bridget let go of her arm.
“They like you already,” Bridget beamed, and around her, the static roared in what felt like approval. She touched the brick hill monument and traced her finger along the names of the deceased, silently calling upon them. She could see the outlines of faces in her mind.
Mallory’s eyebrows furrowed. “How can you be so sure?”
“I just... know.” Bridget shrugged and sat down in the grass behind the monument. “If you take the time to listen, you can hear them, too.”
Mallory joined her, sitting a foot away, setting her backpack down.
“When did you learn you could talk to ghosts?” Mallory asked.
Bridget hummed in thought. “I remember seeing ghosts when I was a kid. I was so lonely, and they were always there. When I talked, it seemed like they listened.” She leaned against her backpack and looked up into the sky, watching the white clouds slowly drift by.
“It comes naturally.” She turned her head to look at Mallory, who had stretched her legs out into the grass. The spirits churned around them like a restless sea. Mallory shifted, moving closer, and suddenly Bridget was aware of every inch between them, growing smaller and smaller.
“So, you hang out here a lot?” Mallory asked.
“When I’m not at the library, yeah.”
“Are you ever home?”
“I don’t like being home...” Bridget said quietly, and Mallory nodded, as if she understood. “I like being with my friends.” She added, glancing up at Mallory to see her reaction.
Mallory looked down at her, and just like before, her hand moved to her hair. Bridget didn’t believe in heaven, no, but she knew if there was one, it looked just like this. Bridget closed her eyes. Nothing moved, not even their chests in breath, not even their hearts. The ghosts became their only witness, the only spectators to the moment, the brilliant pause, the “what if?” Bridget begged the sky around her, begged the stars just beyond the stratosphere, please, please. She didn’t know what she was pleading for, only that she couldn’t stand the adrenaline now rushing through her veins, and she was suddenly gasping. Mallory’s hand came to rest on the side of her face, and Bridget melted against the coolness of her skin. Just as quickly as she touched her, her touch retreated, and Bridget opened her eyes.
“I...” Mallory began to speak but quickly stopped herself.
“I like you, Mallory,” Bridget breathed. The truth had never come so easily to her. The words had never appeared to her so strong as they did now. It blew out of her mind like some strong wind, a truth she couldn’t deny any longer.
There was a long silence.
“Oh...” Mallory mumbled, her hand retreating from her hair. “Uhh...”
Bridget sat up, confused.
“How long have you liked me?” Mallory asked, and Bridget smiled, the memory quickly coming to her mind.
“Ever since the first day of English class.”
Mallory’s eyes darted across the ground.
“It took me a long time to sort of realize,” Bridget began. She raked her hands through the grass, the blades sticking against her skin. “You are just so...” Her words trailed off, and she shook her head, laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m an idiot, I just love you so much —”
“Love?” Mallory exclaimed, a look of horror overtaking her face.
Bridget clasped a hand over her mouth. Idiot, idiot, you are an idiot!
Mallory pulled herself up to her feet and grabbed her backpack.
“Wait, where are you going?” Bridget asked.
“Away,” Mallory said, and Bridget jumped up to chase after her, leaving her backpack deserted.
“Mallory, wait up!” Bridget called, but Mallory was already exiting the cemetery. The girl took a left and made for the intersection, heading towards the library. Bridget ran to catch up with her.
“Mallory!”
“Go away, Bridget!”
“Mallory, can’t we talk about this?” Bridget gasped, having returned to Mallory’s side. They crossed the street together and approached the library’s front steps.
“Why are you mad at me? I can’t help what I feel!” Bridget threw her arms out.
Mallory turned around and gave her a dark look, then walked up the stairs towards the doors.
“Mallory!” Bridget followed, the ever-loyal puppy at Mallory’s heels.
They stormed through the front lobby. Bridget spied Jasper and Carter in the kids’ section of the library, in the very back, playing with the table top cars. Mallory walked over to them, and Bridget glanced around, thankful there were no children present.
“Mallory, I thought — I thought you felt the same way, okay? I wouldn’t have told you if I would have known.” Bridget explained, “You mean so much to me, our friendship means so much to me. You push me away sometimes and I have dealt with it, but you can’t keep running from me!”
“I sure as hell can!” Mallory fumed. “You were supposed to be my friend!”
“I am! This doesn’t have to change things!”
“Then why did you tell me?”
Jasper and Carter looked at each other, then back at the arguing girls.
“I told you because if I didn’t... If I didn’t...” Bridget felt a burning pain begin in her nose, then behind her eyes. Don’t cry, you can’t cry, not here.
“If I didn’t tell you, I think I would have been completely consumed by it, and it would have killed me.”
Mallory looked at her for a long time, her grey eyes full of storms.
“Don’t talk to me again. Delete my number and leave me alone,” Mallory said, and Bridget felt her heart break into a million pieces and she would spend an eternity trying to pick them up. Mallory took out her phone and turned to leave.
Bridget watched as she left, watched her hair swish across her back. All the light in her life exited the room within mere moments.
“Bridge...” Jasper got up from the table, but she had already been lost. The tears started slowly at first, then built into a cacophony as loud as thunder, raining harsh and fast against her cheeks. She gasped for breath, the sobs bubbling up from within so violent, she thought she might break from the inside.
“I - I - I didn’t,” Bridget started, and then her sentence dissolved into a low cry. Jasper hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, the only force keeping her together.
He looked at Carter, who said, “It must really be bad if Bridget is crying.”
“It’s okay, Bridge, it’s gonna be okay...”
His words did little to persuade her. If that moment in the cemetery was the closest she had ever been to heaven, then surely this must have been her ultimate hell. Where had she gone wrong? Where could she go from here? What was there left to do but wallow in what could have been, what should have been?
***
Bridget cried until she could not cry any more. She cried through a whole box of tissues, and then a couple of paper towels. Jasper did what he could, as did Carter, telling her that Mallory lost out on someone great, that Bridget didn’t deserve to be treated like that, that everything would be okay. Bridget wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
“I forgot my backpack...” she mumbled, wiping at her sore cheeks.
“Where? I’ll go get it,” Jasper volunteered.
“No, it’s okay, it’s in the cemetery. I’ll go get it on my way home.”
Jasper rubbed her back. They were sitting outside on the steps of the library. Dusk was beginning to settle over the small town of Colton, and Bridget didn’t want to go home, but she had to.
“I’ll see you tomorrow...”
“Hey, don’t do anything stupid, okay?” Jasper said, then brandished his wrists, which were lined with white scars. “It’s not worth it, she's not worth that kinda pain.”
Tears welled up in her eyes again, and Bridget took Jasper's hand and squeezed.
“Thank you, Jasper... for everything.”
The walk to the cemetery felt like an eternity; her body felt so heavy, so full of bricks, she dragged across the pavement. She entered the courtyard, much to the pleasure of the spirits, who had watched the two girls leave so suddenly earlier in the evening. Bridget could feel their intense scrutiny, their question mark songs against her ears, their insistence that she stay, just for the night, keep them company.
“I’m sorry... she didn’t feel the same...” Bridget whispered, moving slowly down the hill so as not to trip. “It's over with.”
The phantoms of the graveyard were drowned out by the wind, but she could feel their pity, they were practically soaked with the stuff. She didn’t much care for it.
Bridget found her backpack and, having grown tired from the walk, crumpled to the grass, fresh grief pouring over her. She could hear every word Mallory had ever said. She could feel the soft pads of her fingers along her scalp, could smell the shampoo in her hair, could feel the sun on their backs in that bay window. Had everything been a lie?
“Ugh...” She groaned, splaying out against the ground, finding sweet purchase against the Earth. For a moment, her head cleared; in front of her, out of the ground, grew a long-stemmed white flower with a yellow center.
She hadn’t seen it there before, when the world was still bright and full of color, and when Mallory could still stand to look at her. It was the only one of its kind in the vicinity. Bridget touched its delicate petals and resisted the urge to pluck it from its stem, to twirl it around with her fingers. Such a beautiful life, born from the Earth with what appeared to be no effort at all.
Bridget sat up and rested against the sturdy sureness of the brick memorial, letting the static fill in her mind. It seems quieter, now, as though they were giving her room to speak.
“It’ll be okay...” She said aloud. She didn’t exactly know where it came from, only that she knew it to be true, another confession made at the grave. Bridget felt lighter. The weight of a thousand cinderblocks had been pushed off her chest. Despite the horrible ending, regardless of the ruined friendship, the bridge she had burned, the smoldering ashes left... there was nothing left but to bask in it, to languish in the remains and wonder what could have been.
Bridget watched the night open before her in all its splendor, the stars twinkling into existence, the moon a slim crescent. In that, she found peace, and a knowing she hadn’t held before. The world could be scorched, and even still, life could grow again. She wasn’t about to lose hope.
“It’ll be okay...” she said again, and the ghosts in the graveyard gathered, and the night fell, and the shadows came out to play.