Sunshine and Cadavers

I am rather unsure of how Cassie Breslin became an acquaintance of mine. All my peers were equally amused at the thought of such a promiscuous, immoral girl befriending me. We were partnered for a project one day, and, suddenly, we began to talk during class and in the hallway. I cannot recall ever seeing her on the weekends. Perhaps, once, but we mostly were restricted to school meetings.

Cassie was not immoral, per se. She was just different. She had a different set of ideals than most of our peers. Everyone has a vice. Cassie just happened to have them all. Did that make her any less of a human than everyone else? Not in my eyes, certainly. She had morals in a sense. Maybe she just lacked the self-respect that causes us to conform our actions to virtuously sound ideals.

The interesting thing is that, despite Cassie’s overbearing reputation of selling illegal substances and casually copulating with taken men on the weekends, she had never really pressured me into engaging in the activities. Possibly, I avoided it because we did not interact outside of school, but, honestly, I believe she had the belief that everyone had individual opinions that should be respected. She never forced herself on the boys or advertised her access to narcotics. Everyone knew that her willingness and abilities existed. They went to her.

Brian Allis approached me after class. Cassie had winked at him during pre-calculus, but Brian was not a very brave individual. He was handsome, surely. His face was very symmetrical, and he was one of the few blessed with no acne. However, Brian was a very shy and modest individual. His friends were, as Cassie had once said, “assholes to the nth degree.” I would not have stated it as such. They were highly chauvinistic but had never shown a tendency towards bullying weaker students. Brian did not match this description, though. He rarely spoke up, whether inside or outside class. The girls who had dated him spoke nothing but high praise of his character. His Achilles’ heel was his distant affection. Most females looked for a boy who they could hang around like fine gold, but Brian had no interest in being used as a display case. The girls who dated him normally lost interest within a month. Brian showed no distress over the separations he encountered. He always remained mute. He surely was an interesting character.

“Hey, Megan,” he greeted as we fell into a casual pace. Our conversation was not going to interrupt my between-class routine, and Brian, I think, understood this. So, he followed me as I strolled to my locker.

“Brian,” I responded. He rubbed the back of his neck, a clear sign of discomfort. “Can I help you in some manner?”

“Yeah,” he said. His fingers fidgeted with a small scrap of notebook paper. Some numbers were written boldly across the parchment. “Could you give this to Cassie? Tell her to call me sometime.”

I looked at Brian sadly. “I am sorry to say that Cassie doesn’t initiate contact with others. Even if I give her the number, you have a very small chance of her responding. I recommend you approach her yourself and ask her on a date.” We arrived at my locker, and I spun my combination.

Brian sighed. “Fuck. I can’t do this.”

“Do you have feelings for her?” I queried. His brown eyes were in distress as they met mine. He slumped against a neighboring locker and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

His voice softened. “Have had. Since forever. You don’t understand, Megan. Things are different now that her mom’s gone. The boys say pounce while she’s mourning, but I don’t want to seem…” He paused for lack of an appropriate word.

“Insensitive,” I supplied.

“Exactly.”

“Well, I can’t help you in that respect,” I informed regretfully. I truly felt sorry for Brian’s predicament. As a novice in the world of romantic relationships, however, I could not supply him with advice. All I could tell him was to try his best and hope the end product was in his favor.

Brian trailed me as I took off for Latin class. “Megan, you’re her best friend. Can’t you give me any hints?”

“Cassie is not a very open person. I’m not certain what she looks for in a partner. I don’t even know if she has pets,” I explained. It was arguable that I was the closest person to Cassie in terms of friendship, but I would not go so far to say I was her “best friend.” I had always felt that was a title reserved for the most intimate of relationships where the two parties knew extensive details of each other. I had never even been to Cassie’s house.

“There must be something you can do, Megan,” he begged. “You’re closer to her than anyone else.”

I released a heavy sigh. “I’ll try to talk to her, but I recommend you keep your expectations very low.”

“Thank you so much, Megan!” He ran off to his next class as the bell rang. I scurried into Latin where Mr. Floyd was already writing conjugations on the board.