Saving Sloane Winters

Eliza B. Osztreicher
Keywords It, hurts, seeing, Sloane, like, this

Sloane Winters was a strong girl. She had a six pack, did swimming and weights everyday-- that she could even lift up a truck.

She was undeniably strong.

But not in that particular sense of the word, of course.

She was strong, by the way that she didn't cry when her cat, Nibbles, ran away when she was seven. Or when she broke her leg when she landed funny in long jump in eighth grade, or when she tried to dye her hair by herself when she was thirteen, but it became green for the next four months. She didn't eat bucketfuls of ice cream when her first boyfriend dumped her because he secretly like Sarah, when we were fifteen.

She rarely ever broke down, let those barriers holding in the sea of emotions break through, to reveal just how lonely, or angry, or happy she felt.

I had only ever seen her do this two times.

First, when her mum died.

She was a mummy's girl, I guess. She had never felt ashamed to be seen in the shops with her mum-- like all the other pre-teen kids out there (I, myself, was one of them). They both had a love for painting and quotes that nobody had ever heard of. Sometimes, when we all started primary school, they would both dress the same. With the big paint splattered shirts, long skirts and the same sandals they had gotten in Morocco on their Easter Holidays.

Her mum was a lovely person. She always made the best brownies, sang Frank Sinatra and wear gypsy skirts. She was eccentric, no doubt, and so wise. She looked just like Sloane too, the same silky dark blond hair, the same lankiness, the same colour eyes.

Sloane told me that her mum and dad met at a music festival in North Sydney, when they were both twenty two, fell in love, married two years later, and had Sloane the same year.

She was thirty seven when she died from cancer.

And Sloane was the last person (not including the doctors) to see her.

We didn't find out until she came back to school, after not showing up for nearly a month, and told us nonchalantly during Food Technology. She was creaming her butter and sugar, that pretty smile absent from her face, and said, "Oh, mum died a month ago. Doctors couldn't save her."

I remember Kay's glass bowl falling to the ground, and getting a detention.

And that pretty smile didn't visit for nearly a year after that, and during that year; it was like she was in a coma. Always there, but somehow... just not. She'd never toss her head of long hair back and laugh at Sarah's sexual innuendos, or ask me to do her homework for her anymore.

But then Kay got sick of it, told her to snap out of it and live. She'd say, "Sloane, I'm tired with your emo shit. Get your arse up, and stop moping."

I expected her to cry (she had been doing it a lot) but she didn't. She went to New Zealand for the half year holidays, and came back with a smile on her face. Alive, and sane.

The second time she broke down?

It's happening right now.

Kay says it's not a reason to be pissed about. People get together, and break up all the time. Some things just don't last. But I can see the worried grimace she gets whenever she looks at Sloane. She didn't think it would be like this, so she's secretly beating herself up for letting the whole deal get too far.

"It's not your fault, Kay." Sarah would say. "Sloane prob'ly knew what she was getting herself into."

What Sarah's too blind to see is that Sloane's overprotective about people she cares about, and that's not a lot of people. She cared so much for her mum, and she lost it. And she cares for us, because we vowed each other we'd never leave one another at a silly sleepover when we were eleven.

And I know that it hurts when someone she cares about leaves. Dies, moves to another place, or cheats.

I absolutely hate Teak Richardson, for wiping that smile off her face again.

And yet, I adore him for being able to bring it back too.

_____________________

Find Riley at lunch, we're both by the oval, eating our sandwiches in comfortable silence.

I'm watching, and I can see Kay giggling hysterically about something probably stupid that Jaiden said. She's twirling a long piece of her fringe around her finger, her ridiculously long eyelashes (due to excessive amounts of mascara) are batting much more than necessary.

I can see Tristan too, playing soccer with his mates. He's goalie, and the ball comes his way, but he's not looking, and it passes by. His friend, Aryan (as Sloane had mentioned to me), hollered, "Watch the ball, Tristan!"

He's watching Sloane though, who's by the steps of the Science labs, chatting with the Visual Art Captain of Xavier about the Art Gallery in the next few weeks (as the schools decided to join them together).

And there's our hero.

He's nearing the steps, coming out of the detention room. Sloane stops mid sentence, and watches him, but he walks by her without a glance, until he's a few feet away from us.

Riley stands up, and sheepishly gives me a one arm hug, and while he's doing that, he bends down (quite a bit) and whispers in my ear, "He regrets all of it."

They're walking away, one pale and black haired, and the other tan and blonde.

And Sloane turns back to her conversation, her smile faltering.