Chapitre Un (July 4th, year five)

The hot July sun hung high in the sky. It bounced its heat off the dark asphalt in waves, visible in the still summer air. The parking lot had gradually become more populated; families had established areas throughout the scarce brown grass to grill and relax. The ballpark was waiting in the distance, still empty but filled with anticipation. Sadie could see the glowing scoreboard in the distance, its screen flashing the team logo. Her family’s Fourth of July celebrating varied every year. Sometimes they were hidden in the mountains, camping in some remote location with their extended family. Last year they had been in a hot car, traveling across the country on yet another road trip. This year her mother had picked the ever traditional baseball game. The local triple-A team was doing pretty well this season. The Independence Game was sold out, and judging by the amount of cars now pouring into the lot, Sadie was grateful her family had arrived early for once.

Her mother was hovering near the front of their car now, listening to the voice on the other end of her cell phone. Sadie was in the back of their SUV, digging through the expansive cooler for the jar of relish her father had requested.

“I swear, if that woman mentions corn one more time…” Her mother looked angry now, frustrated with the conversation that had just transpired. Sadie just nodded her head, and rubbed the now bruising knee that she had hit on the cooler when her mother made her jump. She crawled out of the SUV now, handing her father the jar of relish. He thanked her and smiled. She turned before he could notice her inability to reciprocate his obvious happiness.

If she were being honest with herself, Sadie was dreading today. Usually the 4th of July was her favorite holiday. There was something about the 4th that brought her back to a time when life was simpler and boys didn’t break her heart. She could remember sparklers and sprinklers, hot dogs and campfires. Things that usually brought her joy. Today, though, she was glancing toward the road in heavy anticipation. Every time she saw a pick-up truck, even if it was brand new and red, her heart jumped and her hands shook.

It was a well-known fact that Eric showed up to the baseball game every year on the 4th. Last year, when they’d been…well, whatever definition they had chosen to be that day, Eric had made a huge production of the day. He spoke about it with an exuberance usually reserved for Christmas or his birthday (which warranted another large celebration). He had spent weeks in preparation—borrowing grills, stocking up on hot dogs, roping his friends in guaranteed appearances. At the time, Sadie had found all of this sort of endearing. She’d never seen Eric get so worked up about being in a social setting. That he was so excited about a social gathering was rare. On July 1st that year, Sadie had been fishing with her friend Kali, in celebration of Kali’s birthday. Eric hadn’t been able to get a hold of her. They broke up on July 2nd. And Sadie hadn’t really heard from him since.

“Oh, look who has decided to grace us with her presence,” Sadie heard her dad call out. Sadie let her mouth rise slightly. Maggie must have just pulled up. She turned her head, and sure enough, there was her best friend. One of her best friend’s, more accurately.

Sadie and Maggie had a relationship closer to sisters than anything else. Growing up together had been tough, but when you are thrown together for every holiday and birthday and usually every weekend in between, there is a bond there that is nearly impossible to break. The last two years of their friendship had been the closest they’d been to officially “breaking up”, as their mother’s liked to joke. But their friendship had prevailed, above the gossips and the backstabbers they once both called friends.

“Mags, you look like shit,” Sadie said by way of greeting. Her mouth was a full smile now. Maggie huffed and pulled her sunglasses down.

“I’m hungover like no other today, Sade, please can it.” Maggie crossed her arms and fell into a camp chair next to Sadie.

“Of course you are Mags, but that won’t stop me.” She laughed, and relaxed back into her chair. A brief silence passed between the two. This was something that Sadie had only found in one other friend, the ability to sit in complete silence without feeling obligated to speak. Sadie guessed that after nearly 15 years of friendship, this was acceptable.

“You think he’ll show up this year?” Maggie’s head was back, her face absorbing the sun.

Sadie slowly nodded her head yes, sighing. “He may not be dependable, Mags, but if he is anything he is predictable.”

By this time, Sadie had expected to see his truck. The parking lot was nearly full and the gates opened in less than two hours. Her and Maggie stood up and scanned the parking lot. They found his friends, grilling in a corner of the parking lot. Sadie had stared too long and caught Jason’s eye. He gave a tentative wave, and smiled.

Sadie hadn’t realized how much of her life had been taken by Eric when he decided to stop talking to her. They hadn’t even officially broken up. Sadie had called him the day after her fishing trip, and he answered. He was angry, and bitter. He said some things that Sadie knew he’d regret the next day. She apologized, told him that he knew where she was and it wasn’t like she was with any guys anyway. He responded by hanging up the phone. There hadn’t been a next day for him to feel remorseful over calling her the things he did.

Either way, when Eric left so did Sadie. Her friends—the people she had gone to high school with, the people she had known since elementary school—were now situated over in the corner of the parking lot. Waiting for Eric, she was sure. He’d hit it off so well with her friends; at the time it was a blessing. Her friends had never really been accepting of her boyfriends before. Granted, her friends were mostly male and mostly protective of her. But they all liked Eric. And after a year of not hearing from them, Sadie was well aware that they had picked Eric over her.

She was in the middle of waving back when she noticed Jason’s eye move to the entrance of the parking lot. This was it. He was here. And now she was going to go apologize for drunk dialing him last night, and apologize for the things she said. She watched his old rusty blue truck rumble its way into the parking lot. She felt goosebumps on her legs, even in the muggy July air, and waited for him to park. The only spot near his friends was actually closer to Sadie. She took this as a sign, and started walking slowly to him.

“Sadie!” Maggie hissed behind her. She wasn’t willing to let Sadie walk over there alone. She caught up quickly, latching on to Sadie’s hand. “You don’t owe him anything, Sade.”

“I have to apologize, Mags. You know I can’t let it go.”

“You were drunk, Sadie. He can’t hold it against you.”

“This isn’t about him, it’s about me feeling like shit for what I said.”

“It’s not like he didn’t deserve it. You didn’t make any of it up.”

They had reached the spot where he was parked now. He was still in his cab, fiddling with his music. That’s when Sadie caught sight of the passenger. She was tiny, it looked like. And blonde, the kind of bright blonde that a person is lucky to be born with. She was smiling at something Eric had just said, her head shaking in that flirtatious way that told Sadie this girl was not his sister. Not that he had any.

The blonde was first out of the truck. She jumped from the cab, and landed gracefully on the ground. Her flip flops looked new and her hair was shiny under the sun. Sadie’s hair had been pulled back into a pony tail, her neck drenched in sweat. And her white flip flops had definitely seen better days.

The girl stopped short when she saw Sadie and Maggie standing behind the truck. She eyed them curiously, but kept moving toward Eric. He was now out of the truck, and was hugging the blonde. He saw Sadie over her shoulder, and froze.

It’s funny how much time can pass between two people. Sadie had been in love with Eric. Of that, she was positive. She had been on the inside of the massive wall he had built around his heart. She had been let in on the inner-most workings of his self. It’s clichéd to say she knew him better than he knew himself. She didn’t know him as well as she thought she did, since she hadn’t seen their explosive end coming. But she knew him well enough to know that he laughed when he was nervous and he chewed on the inside of his cheek when he was angry. She could anticipate where his commas would be when he spoke aloud. She could see the meaning behind each word, define each sentence in emotion, and prepare herself and the world for the hurricane that was Eric Kline. It’s true, time had passed between the two. But she looked into his brown eyes for the first time in 6 months (she had seen him once before, you see), and gulped down air. Eric Kline still had the ability to take her breath away, even after he ripped her heart out of her ribcage and left it to broil in the hot July sun last year.

It wasn’t that he was breathtakingly handsome. A GQ model he was not. He was tall, but he had filled out over the past two years. When Sadie first met him, almost five years ago, he’d been a scrawny boy who rode his bike too fast and tried too hard to impress her. When they started dating, four years ago, he realized that Sadie liked him for the very reasons he sometimes didn’t like himself. He realized Sadie was the kind of girl that would care about him even when he didn’t really care about her, and that was enough to make him fall head over heels in love with her. Their three year relationship was by no means perfect, but it was beautiful in its imperfections. He liked to pretend their fights were a symphony, filled with sound effects (doors slamming, feet stomping) and long pauses (the girl couldn’t last a day without talking to him) and finally a resolution so beautiful it could bring a full concert hall to its feet. Two years into their relationship he’d mentioned the word forever and thought he scared her off. She had come back, of course, but he’d been so scared of losing her that he started to push her away. And one year ago, almost to the day, Eric Kline had finally let go of the idea of a forever with the girl that so obviously was against it.

Sadie watched as he stepped back from the blonde slowly. He whispered something her ear, and she looked at Sadie, confused.

“I will never understand the appeal of midgets, Sade.” Maggie whispered this in her ear, glaring at Eric out of the corner of her eye now. Sadie turned to look at her, wide eyed. “Oh, she didn’t hear me. And she is short…,” Maggie rolled her eyes. “Whatever, I’m not passing judgment.”

Sadie cleared her throat.

“Eric, can I talk to you?”

He looked at her, anger apparent in his eyes. “Well, if it isn’t Miss ‘I-hope-you-go-die,’” Eric deadpanned.

“Eric, look. Last night…I didn’t mean it. I was just--,”

“Whatever Sadie. I heard the message loud and clear.”

“Eric, I didn’t mean what I said. You know I didn’t mean it.”

“Sadie, I heard what you said. Don’t try and explain this time. You were slurring your words pretty bad, but you sure didn’t stutter. I know what you said. I know what you want.” He took a step to her, and Maggie stepped slightly in front of Sadie.
Sadie pushed Maggie back. By this time, Jason and some of her old friends had come to stand behind Eric. Jason didn’t look threatening—he never got the hang of that look—but he looked worried. He was watching the two like a ball boy at a tennis match, ready to jump in when the game play stopped.

“Can you swallow your pride and just let me apologize for once, Eric? Jesus, you always have to step up and act so pretentious. You don’t know what was going through my head when I said those things, ok? You don’t know what I meant.”

“Sadie, when a girl tells me she wants me to die, I think her message is pretty clear.”

Sadie shook her head. Why was he fixating on this small portion of their conversation? He was pushing her, trying to get her to snap and repeat what she said last night. She knew what he was doing—he’d used this technique many times throughout their relationship. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, concentrating on the two words in her head.

She opened her eyes back up and looked, for the first time in a year, right into his. Even 6 months ago she wasn’t able to do this. “I’m sorry. That’s all I wanted to say. It won’t take what I said back, but--,”

“You can’t walk away without saying it, I know.” He didn’t find it amusing that he could still pinpoint her character habits. He looked downright annoyed, actually, that Sadie was still such a large part of his consciousness that he could finish her sentences.

“Right. Well, enjoy the game. And your blonde. And life.”

Sadie turned on her heel, dragging an open-mouthed Maggie behind her.

“Sade. You mentioned the blonde.”

Sadie nodded, frustrated. “I know,” she said. “I couldn’t help it. She was standing there all wide-eyed and innocent, completely clueless. Did he really not mention me to her? Wait, it shouldn’t even bother me. I don’t want her knowing who I am. Get him in trouble. Wait. No,” she let out a breath. “Why doesn’t she know who I am, Maggie?”

“Sadie, dude, calm down. Breathe.” Maggie had forced her down into a chair now, and she could feel her family staring at her.

When she broke up with him, her family hadn’t really seen how it affected her. She had hidden that part of the break up pretty well from her family. She didn’t want her two little sisters and her younger cousins to see her like that. She had kept the crying to the shower and the rare break down with Maggie and Jules, sometimes with Kali. All her family knew was that Sadie was single for the first time in three years, and she wasn’t as broken as she should have been. Not visibly, at least. The cracks that laced her heart and her whole soul were still visible in some instances. Especially when she got around Eric, the person who had dropped and shattered her like a porcelain doll. Her three best friends were the only others aware that she still was mending, like a bone that had been repeatedly broken.

She took a few calming breaths and found Maggie’s eyes. Maggie looked worried, and stressed that Sadie was still so affected by him. For Maggie’s sake, she smiled and nodded her head.

“I’m ok. Really. I’m good.” Maggie nodded slowly, but soon relented and kissed her friend on the head.

“He didn’t deserve your apology, Sade,” she said, bending over for a hug.

“I know, Mags. But now he can’t say I never apologized.” She gave a forced smile and a half-hearted laugh.

Maggie smiled, but rolled her eyes.

------

“’Ey batta batta batta!” Sadie’s mom was yelling loudly at the player at bat. It was the 7th inning, and the home team was up, but that didn’t stop her mother from letting the stadium know who she was rooting for. Sadie sunk a bit lower in to her seat, but heard Maggie giggling behind her.

“Sadie, come on. You know she does this every game.” Maggie had leaned forward now, her face right next to Sadie’s. Normally her mother’s behavior didn’t bother her. She would sometimes even join her, whooping and laughing at the players reactions. Their seats were behind home base, on the lowest level of the stadium. Her mother was hard to ignore from that proximity. Her mother was hard to ignore, period.

“Ugh, Mags. You have total popcorn breath. Back up.”

“Haha! Yes,” she replied, dragging out the ‘s’. “Let me go hit on some unsuspecting boy. Wanna come?”

This was one of Maggie’s favorite games. The girl was gorgeous. She was tall and naturally tan, with bright blue eyes and shiny mahogany hair. She had always been the prettier of the two, though she never liked to compare herself to Sadie, even when they were fighting. Maggie had a knack for dating the most attractive boys and teaching them lessons. She told Sadie it was her civic duty, as a beautiful girl (Maggie hated the word beautiful), to date as many “bad apples” as possible and teach them a thing or two about how to treat a girl. Sadie and Maggie were both outgoing, and both had a sense of humor that many people couldn’t pick up on right away. The difference between the two rest in the fact that Sadie was incredibly too forgiving, while Maggie was incredibly too hard headed. She did have a talent for finding guys who thought they owned the Earth, and turning them into groveling boys that honored and cherished women.

Sadie begrudgingly agreed. They walked to the concourse above them, Maggie searching for a suitable adversary and Sadie simply keeping her head down. After the confrontation in the parking lot, Sadie felt ten times lighter and was looking forward to the game. When they settled into their seats, however, she realized that Eric and his friends had the seats directly behind Sadie’s, a section up. She was grateful the night was cooling down, and she could hide behind the hood of her sweatshirt. Now she was roaming free, and dreading another confrontation.

Maggie zoned in on her next target—an attractive guy, with not much else going for him. He looked like every other guy Maggie went off. Sure he was cute, but he was non-descript. He could have been any one off the street. He lacked the character Sadie always imagined herself to be brimming with.

While Maggie flirted and worked her magic on this poor unsuspecting boy—maybe his name was Steven?—Sadie scanned the crowd. She found Jason, standing by himself at the metal bars dividing the concourse from the seats. He was pacing and watching the game, clearly angry over the victory the home team was inevitably going to pull. He happened to look up at Sadie, who was still staring with wonder.

“Sadie,” he said, acknowledging her presence for the first time in a year. He nodded for her to come over to where he stood.

She felt Maggie tug her sleeve, but shook her off and started walking in his direction.

“Uh, hey Jason,” she said, her voice quiet, without expectation.

“How’s it going, Sadie-girl?”

Sadie was surprised at his use of her nickname. Jason had been one of her best friends, pre-Eric. They had been in the same first grade class, and walked the stage together at graduation. Their bond had always been platonic—they’d kissed once, in middle school, just to see what it was like. After they both wiped their mouth clean and rinsed with Sadie’s mouthwash, they agreed to keep their friendship as friends and nothing more. Jason had been Sadie’s rock in so many ways. Though they didn’t hang out nearly as much as Sadie had with the girls, Jason had always been the most dependable person in her life. She had called him a few times, after breaking up with Eric. He’d answered, but was distracted every time. He had promised to call her back, but she hadn’t talked to him since then.

“I’ve been fine, you?” She felt her arms cross over her stomach and grab her sides. She felt like she needed to shield herself from Jason, the boy that had once been like a teddy bear to her, and she was uncomfortable with that thought.

“Oh, you know, this and that. How was your first year of college?”

“Uh, I actually took some time off,” she replied. None of her old friends knew this. She was positive. They all thought she was headed to UCLA, off to the west coast, off to the sun and the sand and the surf. Eric hadn’t even known that she deferred her attendance, for him.

“Really? Your mom was cool with that?” He looked confused now. Sadie had been at the top of their class.

“She got over it,” she replied, blandly. Jason looked down to her mom now, who was now yelling at the umpire.

“I bet that was rough,” Jason said, laughing. He knew how Sadie’s mom could be. He’d picked Sadie up and let her crash in his bed enough times to know her relationship with her mom wasn’t exactly peachy.

“Things happen, I guess,” she avoided his eye as she said this. It was the same line Jason had used in an email he had sent her last December, when Sadie was desperate for him to tell her everything was going to be ok, like he used to. He’d replied with a few words of apology, and an excuse that “things happen.” That was when Sadie knew things were probably irreparable between her old life and her new, alone-life.

Jason bit his lip now, looking down and picking at his thumbnail. Sadie smiled to herself, thinking that some things just never change. He’d been a chronic lip-biter since he was six, and he picked up the thumbnail habit in the 7th grade when he was constantly in the principal’s office. She shook the smile off her face, realizing that sometimes a past as familiar as theirs wasn’t always enough.

“I better get back,” Sadie said, pointing in her mother’s general direction.

“I miss you, Sadie-girl,” Jason replied. Sadie looked up and saw the six year old boy that never would have imagined hurting her like this.

“I miss you too, Jay, but these things happen, remember?” She smiled sadly and turned to her seat.

Her seat was cold when she returned, and she soon learned it was also covered in water. Her dad had apparently spilled his drink on her seat, and was returning with paper towels right as she sat down. She remembered who was sitting a section behind her, and decided staying seated for the rest of the game was a better option.

The last inning came and went quickly. Maggie returned, victorious, with polo-boy’s number scrawled on her hand. Sadie smiled wryly, but returned her attention to the promotional team that was now on the field, throwing t-shirts to the crowd.

“You know, every time I come to one of these games, I never get a t-shirt. And I am a frequent flier. I am here every home game.”

The voice came from beside her, an empty seat that was suddenly occupied. The boy sitting next to her now was smiling at the crew on field, waving his arms wildly, but staying seated. Sadie noticed his eyes first—a striking blue that got darker around the edge. They looked like a sapphire against his pale skin, made even more noticeable under the glow of the ball park lights. His lips were dark pink, and reminded her briefly of Jason. This boy was an obvious lip-biter. His curly, dark blonde hair shined in the lights. It stuck out at odd angles, and bounced with his rapid movements.

“My name is Mac, by the way. Like the computer. Or like Miss Mary. Whichever you can recall,” he smiled, sticking his hand out for a handshake. Sadie took it tentatively, but smiled.

“Sadie, but I don’t have any comparisons for you,” she said.

“Like the Beatles song, maybe?” He asked, clearly fascinated.

“Um, if that helps to recall my name?” She replied, confused.

“It sure does,” he nodded, satisfied. “So tell me Sadie, why so blue? You look…lost.” His blue eyes weren’t teasing; they were honest, concerned.

“It’s just…been a long day.” Quite the understatement.

“Oh, come on! It’s the day of our nation’s Independence! George and Benny and Thomas are partying in their giant Convention in the sky!” He threw his head back, squinting past the bright lights and staring a beat too long at the clouds.

Sadie just watched him, questioning his actions. He didn’t appear to be crazy, but you could never really tell… She needed Maggie’s opinion. But she had disappeared to who-knows-where.

“So, I was chatting with your mom earlier,” he nodded to Sadie’s left, where her mother was engrossed in conversation with Sadie’s aunt.

“You—what?”

“Yeah. She’s a great fan, like myself. That’s how I found her. Us great-fan’s stick together.”

Sadie didn’t really understand where this boy was coming from—this Mac guy. He just sat down, no hesitation. Threw himself into conversation with a girl who could or could not have ripped him a new one…and was now attempting to psychoanalyze her, based off two minutes of conversation.

“Anyway, your mom and I agree. You need some cheering up. You need a light in your life.”

“Uh, I have enough…lights…thanks.”

“No, no,” he shook his head. His curls bounced. “You need a light like me.”

“I don’t even know you, Mac.”

“Obviously, that is going to change, Sadie.”

The way he said this, like it was fact, something that had already come to fruition, was what made Sadie the most uneasy. He wasn’t rude about it, just assured. Confident.

“Alright Mac, if you say so…,” she didn’t have much confidence, however.

“Look, Sadie. You are looking for something. I don’t know what yet, but I’m great at finding things. Like a basset hound.”

At that moment a ball of white cloth landed soundly in his lap. He unrolled it, with a wry smile on his face, and turned to look Sadie square in the eyes.

“You can’t always expect things to just turn up, though. I am one of the lucky few.” He grinned, staring first at her, then at his new shirt. Suddenly the stadium lights went dark, and the fireworks began.

The bright flashes of fire in the sky were a celebration of freedom, but Sadie couldn’t help but think how much they resembled her past relationship. A brilliant, beautiful flash of color, that left nothing but a cloud of transparent smoke that disappeared into the atmosphere on an invisible breeze. Tangible, yet fleeting.