“I asked you a question.” Her teeth were clenched when she spoke, making the statement sound more like a snarl.
“It was me, Mrs. Anderson.” Sunny stood up and met my mother’s steaming eyes. “I bought the cigarette from a girl in my neighborhood. Taylor tried to stop me from lighting it and then made me put it out. It must have caught something in the trashcan on fire. I’m sorry.”
Sunny bravely squared her shoulders and added another I’m sorry. I was too amazed to speak.
My mother exhaled several times through her nose, the late hour showing on her face.
“Get your things, Sunny. I’m taking you home.”
“Mom, no!” I stomped my foot in protest. “Why does she have to go home now? Can’t you at least wait until morning?”
“Not another word, Taylor.” She gave me a sharp warning glare, and I watched numbly as Sunny gathered her things. “I think it would do you ladies some good to spend a few weeks apart.”
Sunny paused for a moment, her fingers uncurling from her overnight bag as my mother’s words registered. It was the beginning of summer, and Sunny practically lived at our house when school was out. A break from me meant that Sunny would have to spend the next few weeks in her house alone, or nearly alone for all the attention her father paid her. She never said it, but I knew my company was a reprieve from the hulking silence that roamed the hallways of her home. And while she had other friends who could fill the space, I was the only one who understood why she so desperately craved the company of others. I was the only one who knew to invite her over for dinner so she wouldn’t have to eat another microwave meal alone at the kitchen table.
“Sunny—” I started, but she cut me off with a shake of her head and a weak smile.
“Sorry I got you in trouble,” she said meaningfully, meeting my eyes in a look that said it’s okay.
“Come on, Sunny. Time to go.” My mother tightened the belt on her robe and motioned for Sunny to follow. “Taylor, we’ll talk when I get home.”
When she came back, she told me she was proud of me for standing up to my friend. Her words were a knife, but I smiled like I was pleased. Sunny and I weren’t allowed to see each other for a month.
*
The silk-pajamaed Sunny from seventh grade closed her fingers around the cigarette she held, leveling me with a knowing gaze. I felt the intensity of the other hundred Sunnys boring into me, like they were waiting for me to do something, begging for me to do something. It pissed me off, because I didn’t owe them anything. I already thanked Sunny years ago for taking the fall. What more did they want from me?
“Go away,” I said to them. Then louder: “Go away, go away, go away!”
Another Sunny stepped forward from the crowd, this one so recent I was surprised sparks didn’t fly out of my eyes when I saw her.
“I’m sorry,” she said to me, her eyes round and pleading.
I laughed despite my anger because the idea was so ridiculous. I didn’t want to forgive her for what she’d done. When it came to Sunny, my grudge was water in a desert.
I crouched down into a ball so I didn’t have to look at the Sunny from last week, or any of the Sunnys crowding the horrible stairs.
“Leave me alone,” I shouted into the folds of my arms, so angry I could spit fire. I didn’t want to feel pity, I didn’t want to feel regret, I didn’t want to feel anything for Sunny other than the anger I’d felt towards her all week. If anything, I wanted to forget.
Fury boiled inside of me as I felt the weight of a hundred sets of her eyes on my skin. It was horrible. Being dead was horrible and everything about this place was horrible.
The more I thought about it, the angrier it made me. I was a kid. When kids died it was supposed to be a tragedy, but there I was without anyone to tell me what the hell was going on. There was nothing for me except the hideous ghosts, and I was tired of being haunted. What kind of horseshit place was I trapped in? Were the stairs trying to make me go crazy?
I looked up from where I crouched and tipped my head back as far as it would go, trying hard to fight off the tears of frustration that welled in my eyes. It wasn’t fair.
“It’s not fair!” I shouted at the sky, because saying it out loud made me feel a little better. “If you can hear me God, this isn’t fair! It isn’t fair to kill me and then leave me here like this! It isn’t fair to surround me with her, after everything that happened. You could at least give me something to look at besides this boring blue sky and this stupid staircase and her stupid, stupid face!”
The tears were falling hard and fast, like someone flipped a switch inside of me. I fell forward onto the steps, wanting to sit down but not able to move any part of my body backward, so instead I had to do this awkward kneeling thing, and that pissed me off even more.
“It’s not fair,” I said again, this time in a whisper because screaming didn’t seem to do any good.
My head was in my hands as I sobbed uncontrollably, and the harder I cried the worse it made me feel, which only made me cry harder. I was feeling about as sorry as a person could feel for herself when something cold hit my shoulder, then my head, then my shoulder again. I looked up at the sky to see what was happening, and it was the craziest thing. Maybe the most amazing thing I’d ever seen.