If I Could Take It Back

It was one of the worst feelings in the world, and Casarina only realised the truth of this as she sat hunched over her desk in maths, trying desperately to concentrate on the exercises she had been given to complete, but not doing a very good job of it. She stared blankly at her paper, her pen clenched in her hand, chewing softly and delicately on her bottom lip, her brow creased in thought. Her stomach was clenching horribly and she felt slightly nauseous. Instead of concentrating on her work, she found herself desperately trying to catch eyes with the two girls who, until about half an hour ago, had been her best friends.

Tia and Elle sat to her left; their backs to her, and Casarina knew they would be wearing the same stony expressions as they had been earlier. She sighed, the knot in her stomach tightening as she thought about what had happened. She hadn’t meant for Tia and Elle to find out, but they had, and now Casarina knew she was just going to have to face the consequences of her actions. She and Tia and Elle had screamed at once another, shouted at one another, they had all sobbed, Casarina more than her friends, and finally Tia and Elle storming away had resolved the matter. They had every right to be mad, Casarina accepted this, but she still couldn’t stop herself from wallowing in her self-pity.

She had never meant for them to find out. Never.

But, Casarina thought to herself wryly. If you didn’t want them to find out, you never would have said those awful things in the first place.

The bell rang shrilly, startling Casarina out of her depressing thoughts. She gathered up her books and notes quicker than Elle and Tia and headed out of the classroom door to head them off before they headed towards the cafeteria for lunch. They came out of the classroom a few seconds after Casarina had, and she sidestepped into their paths. They stopped dead, looking at the light-haired girl with the tearful expression in front of them.

"Look," Casarina cut them off before they could say anything. "I know what I did was rotten, and I don’t know why I did it. I know you’re mad and you have every right to be. But I just want you to know how dreadfully sorry I am. I know I was in the wrong and I regret what I’ve done. It doesn’t excuse it, but I just want you to know that I truly am sorry. You guys mean the world to me."

Tia had always been more outspoken that Elle, and she flicked her long hair over her shoulder and shot Casarina a dirty look, which made Casarina’s insides squirm once more.

"If we meant the world to you," Tia scoffed, beginning to turn her awed temper on one of the people who had previously sheltered behind it. "You wouldn’t have bitched behind our backs for so long!"

There was a ringing silence.

"I didn’t know what else to do," Casarina eventually muttered lamely, her bottom lip beginning to wobble.

"You could have spoken to us! You didn’t have to go talking about us behind our backs!’ Tia shot out. ‘I can’t believe all the things you said! You called us all sorts! We’re not sluts, Casarina, and we’re not stuck-up, or full of ourselves, and we’re certainly not – how did you put it? Prancing around like we own the place thinking that we’re oh-so-much better than everyone else! We’re not putting on an act to impress others, and we’re certainly not trailing around after you as though you’re the leader of everything we do, like what you made out!"

"I only said that because –"

"Because you thought that Elle and I were ganging up on you? Going off without you?" Tia gave a cruel bark of a laugh. "How old are you, Casarina? You’re acting more like seven, never mind seventeen! If you’re going to bitch about us behind our backs, at least make the insults good."

She went to steer Elle around Casarina, but something inside Casarina’s usually calm interior snapped. She blocked her way.

"Now wait one minute," she said, softly but dangerously. "I know what I did was wrong, but I’m not the only one to blame here. You drive me to it, yeah? You and Elle were going off without me, you were always having these inside jokes and secrets that I wasn’t a part of, and you were drifting further and further away from me. I got frustrated, yeah? Do you know what it feels like to think that your best friends are slipping away from you? You were always ignoring me, letting me down at the last minute, and OK, I’ll admit it, you ready? I wanted a reaction out of you. There, I’ve said it. A reaction was all I wanted."

"And now you’ve got it and you don’t like it."

"I was hoping that when you heard what I’d said, you would realise that perhaps some of my points were actually true. Obviously you still think you’re perfect and I’m the one to blame over here."

"You’ve always done this, Casarina," Elle suddenly spoke, slightly timidly. She blushed when the other girls looked at her, but forced herself to continue. "Whenever – whenever you do something bad and you’re caught out, you try to make it look as though you meant to do it all along. But we’re not buying it this time. You were caught out. You’re just going to have to apologise when you mean it, or find some different friends."

Casarina stood in disbelief as they walked past her. She stood there for a long while, watching as the corridor filled up and then emptied again as the other students left for the lunch hour. Elle had been so right. She hardly spoke at all, but when she did, she was always spot on with the truth. She seemed to see things that others didn’t, even if it were right in front of their noses.

Scuffing her feet as she walked, Casarina headed through the deserted corridors towards a seldom-used back door, wanting some fresh air. She was startled as she turned the corner; a young dark-haired boy of her age was hurrying down the halls rather swiftly, not paying attention to where he was going. As he brushed past, Casarina saw that he looked as though he were crying. She stopped, startled.

"Hey!" she called after him. He continued. "OI!" she shouted, and he finally stopped and looked at her.

"What?" he sniffed.

"Are you all right?" Casarina asked, and there was genuine concern in her voice. Whatever she had done had been her own fault – she couldn’t forget that there were other people in this school who had it a lot worse than her, and through no fault of their own.

"I’m fine."

"You don’t look it. Have you hurt yourself? Do you want me to get somebody?"

"No, no, I’m fine. Really."

"You’re the new kid, aren’t you? Alexander?"

"Yeah. That’s me."

"You look real upset."

Casarina was even more worried about him now. Not a lot was known about the new boy, only that he was being fostered in a care home down the road, about a half-mile from the school. He never spoke, and Casarina, when she thought about it, couldn’t even remember him smiling. He was avoiding eye contact now, scuffing his foot at the right angle made by the rows of locker meeting the floor, looking at his shoelaces as though they were about o open up the meaning of life.

"I’m OK," he said eventually, distractedly.

"Well, if you say so," Casarina sighed. "It looks like we’re all having bad days."

"Really?" he glanced up before seeing that her bright blue eyes were watching his own dark brown ones, and then he averted his gaze again.

"Yeah. Well, you and I are, at least."

"Sometimes life’s like that."

"You’re telling me. I’ve just gone and alienated myself from my two best friends, who I’ve known since kindergarten. But I won’t bore you with the details. Are you sure you don’t want to talk?"

"I’m fine, honest."

"All right, then. I’m just going to go somewhere and mope to myself. And of course, dwell on all this regret half an hour has bestowed on me," Casarina rolled her eyes. Alexander looked at her properly for a split second.

"We all have regrets," he said softly, and then he turned and walked away. As he left, Casarina noticed that his hands had black ink marks on them.

She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and left through the old door. Usually stiff, it surprised her by opening quite easily, and she nearly fell through as she pushed it. Regaining her posture, she stepped out onto the soft grass and walked for a while, thinking, and wishing with all her heart, soul, body and mind that she could take back her words about her friends. They were right – she should have just spoken to them about it.

Casarina was almost past the old disused maths mobile before she noticed that it had changed. She stopped, and then edged closer, reading the writing in disbelief.

"Sparky?" she whispered to herself, and then everything clicked in her head. Casarina was a bright girl, and it didn’t take her long to connect the marks on Alexander’s hands, his depressed manner, his talk about regrets … and here it was.

Casarina, to her shock, found tears spring to her eyes. Here she was, worrying about something that was her own fault, and Alexander was struggling with such a huge thing on his shoulder. She didn’t know how to approach the situation, or even if she should. She did the only thing that seemed right.

Taking out her own red Sharpie, she pressed it against the wall, next to Alexander’s scruffy handwriting.

YOU’RE NOT ALONE. She wrote carefully. LIKE YOU SAID, WE ALL HAVE REGRETS. I REGRET TALKING BEHIND THE BACKS OF MY TWO BEST FRIENDS. IF YOU EVER READ THIS, I’M SO SORRY. YOU WERE BOTH RIGHT, I WAS CAUGHT OUT. I’M SORRY.

She stood back and looked at it for a few minutes, feeling something deep inside her telling her that this was something big. Eventually, she put her pen back into her bag and turned towards the school. She wanted to put things right, and she wanted to speak to Alexander.

She hurried back through the deserted corridors. Alexander was by his locker, getting his books out for his next classes.

"Alexander!" she called. He froze up protectively before recognising her.

"Oh," he said, and he looked at her for a second, confused. "I’m sorry, I never got your name."

"Casarina," Casarina told him. "But everyone usually calls me Cassie."

A flash of pain flickered through Alexander’s eyes as he heard her nickname. Casarina’s eyes flicked to the inside of his locker; to the picture of the beautiful little girl taped on the inside. Alexander watched her as though following her train of thought. Eventually, Casarina broke the silence.

"Alexander," she whispered. "I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean –"

"It’s all right," Alexander said gruffly, shutting his locker door and wincing at the clang. "You didn’t know."

"Sparky," Casarina said quietly. "Her name was Cassie?"

"Cassandra."

"She’s beautiful."

Alexander gave a small smile.

"Thank you. I love her dearly."

"Your little sister, I take it?"

"Yes."

"You don’t have to blame yourself anymore."

"You read the message."

"I wrote my own. You were right."

"I was?"

"We all have regrets, Alexander," Casarina didn’t know what came over her as she took Alexander’s hand in her own. "But everything happens for a reason. These things don’t happen to spite us. They make us stronger. They help us to help others."

Alexander paused, thinking.

"I should have helped her."

"It’ll work out."

"You won’t say anything to anyone?"

"After my experiences today, my lips shall remain firmly sealed."

The bell cut through the air again, and Casarina thought privately how fast the lunch hour had flown.

"I’ll see you round," Alexander said, as the babble of the other students began to get louder.

"All right."

"And thanks. What you said … it made sense."

Alexander turned and disappeared into the growing throng of students. Casarina watched him go, and then she turned towards her next class. And Elle and Tia’s next class.

She had something she needed to do.