Cresthill Spring Festival

“I never thought I’d be grateful to see a patch of dirt,” Keela mumbled, tossing the picnic blanket to Sophie. People around them shot dirty looks, particularly the ones that had been going for their spot. 

Sophie laughed. “Why not?”

“Because it’s dirt,” Keela said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She plopped onto the baby blue blanket Sophie had rolled out.

“Maybe you’d be happy to see the organisms living in the dirt-I bet they’re hurt right now,” Sophie commented. 

Keela shrugged. “I’m pretty sure they’re hurt because I’m sitting on them.”

“Fine. You win,” Sophie admitted, suppressing a smile. She’d always loved the springtime, and ever since she moved to small town Cresthill-she’d loved it even more.

Keela waved a hand in front of Sophie’s face. “Are you listening? I was asking if they’d ever cancel this festival.” 

“You’re kidding, right?” Sophie was surprised. Even Keela didn’t hate in-between seasons this much. 

Keela shook her head.

“I don’t think they’d cancel this for anything,” Sophie mumbled. “Even if there was a tornado.” 

“The only reason they wouldn’t cancel this if there was a tornado was because you’d stomp into the mayor’s office with your golden bangs in a huff demanding it be scheduled anyhow,” Keela giggled. “And they’d be too terrified to say no.”

Sophie opened her mouth to argue, but shut it again. The same thought had been tickling her own mind.

A little boy's feet caught on something behind Keela, and he wobbled back and forth before tipping her way. Keela held up her hand to steady him, then tugged it away as soon as he was upright. “Hey!” she shouted. “Watch it!” The boy’s eyes widened, but he nodded swiftly and turned around to lace his fingers with his mother’s. His mom was glaring at Keela, who barely noticed. 

The excited chatter grew ten times louder as someone stepped up to the microphone on stage, widening their smile once they reached the center.

“Sophie!” Keela hissed, leaning forwards to whisper, “I think our dear mayor’s wife is pregnant!”

“Shhhh,” Sophie growled. Then her words sank in. “With who’s baby?” 

“So you caught it too,” Keela said, smirking.

Sophie nodded once. But once was enough. 

“I don’t know,” Keela muttered. “But it sure isn’t Mayor Snoopy Pants. That guy’s old.”

“Keela!” Sophie whisper-shouted, but she couldn’t deny she was giggling. “Any idea who’s the lucky father?”

Keela eyed her suspiciously. 

“What? I know you’ve tried to guess.” Sophie cocked her head.

“True. You know me too well. I think it’s either the mayor’s attorney-he seems like Marly’s type-or the mayor’s younger brother,” Keela exclaimed. 

Sophie blinked in astonishment. “You’re way too excited about this.”

“Of course I am, I’ve always liked Marly-”

“You’ve always liked her style, that’s different,” Sophie cut in.

Keela narrowed her eyes. “And I’ve always liked Mr. Mayor’s son.”

Sophie snorted. “Right, you’ve always like liked him.”

“Shut up!” Keela snapped. 

Sophie held up her hands in peace. “I speak the truth and nothing but.”

“Except when you’re talking to your mother,” Keela grunted. Now that was going too far.

Sophie was stung. “What, you want me to tell my mentally depressed mother that my boyfriend was abusive? Was breaking up with him, changing my phone number, and switching to your school not enough?” Sophie may be petite, but she could hold her ground well enough to be a valid threat.

Keela rolled her eyes. “Maybe. But he knows where you live.”

“Jamie wouldn’t try anything with my father around,” Sophie grumbled. 

That was news to Keela. “So you did tell him?”

“Of course, he started asking where the scabs on my arms were coming from. And my ‘rocks jabbed into my arms from falling while I was running’ excuse was getting old,” Sophie explained. 

Keela narrowed her eyes again. “And your father, the head of police didn’t go after sweet little Jamie?”

“I didn’t tell him that much,” Sophie reluctantly said. 

“Then what did you tell him?” Keela was pushing, but they both knew she didn’t care.

“I just told my dad that Jamie would dig his nails into my skin when I wouldn’t do what he wanted,” Sophie shrugged. “Only that.”

Keela gasped in surprise. “God, Soph. You have to tell him more than that!”

“Why? It wasn’t that bad,” Sophie mumbled quietly. 

“Uh. Yeah it was! You would come to school with finger marks on your face, from where he slapped you!” Keela growled angrily. Sophie had only come to school with marks on her face once, and her parents had been out of town the night before. “You probably still have scars from where he’s hit you, some dark purple bruises too!”

“Stop. Please,” Sophie begged, scanning the people around her. If anyone heard what Keela was saying, they’d get very upset. Sophie was beloved. Everyone in the community knew her name, knew her face, knew her. And none of them had trusted Jamie from the beginning. Not one. So if any of them heard this, they’d kill him. And Sophie couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t be literal.

“Why? So you can go back to hiding under your rock of shame?” Keela asked. She was beginning to cross the line between protective and harsh. “You have to tell someone, Sophie! Actually tell them! All of it!”

It was in that specific moment that Sophie noticed it.

The deafening, sickening sound of nothing. 

No voices.

No giggles. 

Nothing.

“Keela.” Sophie thought she’d said it herself, but Keela wasn’t looking at her anymore. Her eyes were trained behind Sophie, focused on something else-someone else. 

Sophie grimaced when she tried listing the people Keela could be so shocked to see. But she turned around anyways, and gasped. 

Everyone was staring at them. 

Several faces twisted with concern, other’s angry. 

But Sophie didn’t care about them. 

The only face she could see right now was pale.

With dark curls framing it. 

Deep green eyes planted at the center of the shaking head.  

Disappointment flaring on his features.

Jamie.