A School Fight

           Her chest caved when she saw the letter. From Brantley-Donovan University, to Haleigh. The sight of the school’s name conjured images she’d tried to shelve away—her and Haleigh huddled in the foyer of Gillian’s Diner, drizzle falling from a sky intent upon shoving its way through the wall-length windows. Police clustered around what they didn’t want to see, the remnants of a crime as senseless as it was shocking. A half-eaten chicken club on a chipped table streaked with scarlet where Adilene’s hand had dragged over it as she’d crumpled to the linoleum. 

Theta staggered to a chair at the kitchen table and sat down, the envelope trembling in her hands. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t even consider violating Haleigh’s privacy—and the law—by opening her mail. However, this situation was far from ordinary.

As children, Haleigh and Adilene had played together, dragging Theta to the living room almost nightly to watch Barbie fashion shows; gussied each other up with the lipstick, blush, and eye shadow Theta allowed them to wear only around the house; braided each other’s hair in pigtails tied off with glossy purple ribbons. Later on, they’d taken to huddling on Adilene’s wildflower-printed comforter over issues of Us, giggling at celebrities’ outfits; painting each other’s nails with Wet ‘n Wild; or blasting Katy Perry so loudly that Theta had to tell them to keep it down. Haleigh had wept when Adilene had gone off to school, proclaiming her leaving a big mistake.

           If only any of them had truly known, then, how right she’d been.

           She turned the letter over, and over again, sniffing back tears and swallowing the heat rising in her throat. These creeps had a lot of nerve, trying to recruit the sister of a girl who’d died on their campus. They didn’t deserve Haleigh’s attention, and Haleigh didn’t deserve to have the scab over the wound their security’s incompetence had inflicted ripped open. Better to break the law than her daughter’s spirit.

           Blinking back still more tears, she tore the envelope and slipped the paper out.

           It hit her like a battering ram. Not an advertisement, but an acceptance letter. She stared at it and, when it failed to change, blinked forcefully, several times. Again, no use.

           This didn’t make sense. The school must have made a mistake—a costly one. Still, she had to make sure. She called her daughter, and Haleigh came, expression at first neutral but crumbling when she saw Theta’s. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

           “Brantley-Donovan thinks you applied there.”

           Haleigh went as white as the lace on her blouse, an old relic Theta had tried to get her to throw away, to no avail. But she could no longer criticize her for that, for, as now seemed stupidly clear, she had made the same mistake with the letter.

           “I’m sorry, honey,” she said. “I didn’t mean—“

           “It’s a good school.”

           Theta’s jaw nearly hit her chest. Doubts flurried in her mind. No, Haleigh couldn’t have meant what it sounded like she meant. Theta must have misunderstood.

           “Don’t look at me like that,” the teen said, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s the best law school in the state, and definitely the best that’ll accept me.”

            “Haleigh, think about it. Do you really wanna go where—“

           “I have thought about it. This is my chance, Mom.”

           Theta shook her head, feeling as if hurled into the Mariana Trench. “I can’t believe we’re arguing over this.” Good school or not, why would she want to subject herself to constant reminders that the diner where it had gone down had the audacity to continue standing? How could she patronize the bookstore where Adilene had bought her a pink sweatshirt bearing the school’s name in spindly white letters? How could she eat at the tables where they’d joked over pizza and Otis Spunkmeyer cookies? How could she expect to concentrate when every wall and window and piece of furniture bled Adilene?  

           The only answer she could come up with, she desperately didn’t want to believe. She didn’t want to see darkness curl around Haleigh’s silhouette, eating away at the girl she’d thought she’d known bite by ravenous bite. Nor did she want to think herself so foolish as to have failed to see the artifice such a picture implied. Nonetheless, the sight of the teen drove knives into her gut—a condition that would render any argument that immediately followed fruitless.

           She told Haleigh to go to her room and finish her homework. Haleigh opened her mouth, closed it, and walked off.

           Theta leaned forward, dropping her head into her hands. Her mind cycled: Guilt. Shame. Horror. Anger. Grief. Disbelief. Back again. Each state blurring the others, none staying long enough to yield clarity. She didn’t know how much time passed before Haleigh returned to tell her that she’d finished her homework and was going to a friend’s house. Theta told her to be careful. Haleigh said she would. Footsteps. The door closed.

           She probably should’ve pushed herself more; she’d have to decide what to do, whether to fund an education she didn’t support. However, her nerves had begun buzzing, her mind worn to banana peel smoothness. She decided to put away the teen’s laundry—something productive, at least. She fetched the clothes from the dryer and headed to the Haleigh’s room.

When she saw the leather-bound book on her rose-printed comforter, however, she fell limp; the clothes dropped to the floor.  

           Thinking that the title had misled her, she crept to the bed, flipped the book over, and read the description.

The Beginner’s Guide to Spirits

           Ever wonder what happens when we pass on? Have a loved one you’d like to get in touch with? Or do you just want some answers? We’re here to help. Follow our step-by-step guide, and you’ll be communicating with those who’ve passed in no time.

           Turn the pages, and introduce yourself to a whole new world.

           She dropped the book, breath punched from her lungs. Bittersweet tears welled in her eyes. She imagined Haleigh’s decrepit blouse tearing, exposing her, inflicting embarrassment she’d never live down.