6. Sadie
Six
Sadie
I silence the alarm before the second pulse and sit on the edge of the bed and look at the time. Six forty-five. Oh, drinking was not a good idea last night, not when I knew practice was this morning.
Why would I do it? I make a mental note to myself, don’t drink when you have practice. Already I know this is not going to happen again.
“It’s going to be a long day,” I say out loud as I get up. I put my hair into a messy bun, put my hoodie on.
Rubbing my eyes, I leave my room, I need to wake up and having a shower is the best way to do that. Looking around as I walk toward the bathroom, I stop and take a few steps back.
I tilt my head to the side, glancing around the room, thinking it might give some answers, but I know it won't. I don't live with anyone.
I look at the counter, but mostly at the violet flowers. There are six stems, maybe six, gathered into a tight bunch and placed in a vase in the middle of my kitchen counter. The color is extraordinary, deep and saturated, somewhere between purple and blue, they look fake rather than fresh.
The room is exactly as I left it last night, but I still take a look around to make sure I’m not still a little tipsy.
No, my cereal bowl is still in the sink. My camera bag is on the chair. The hoodie I wore yesterday draped over the back of the sofa. Everything is where it should be. Except for the flowers.
My eyes go to the door first. I cross the room in four steps and try the handle.
It’s locked. The only way into the room is with my keycard and then there’s the alarm system.
I had to have one, I promised Dan that was one thing I would have so that he wouldn’t worry about me.
The door is locked, and the alarm didn’t go off, so how the hell did the flowers get here.
There’s no note, I can see that from here, but I go back anyway. I check beneath the stems, lift them slightly, and check the counter underneath. Nothing. Just the flowers and the cool, powdery scent of fresh flowers.
My hand finds the counter edge, still trying to work out how they got here.
They're beautiful. I wish they weren't. If they were cheap or browning at the edges or the wrong thing entirely, I could pick them up and put them outside my door, go to practice and not think about it again.
But they're not. Someone chose these. They stood somewhere and looked at a row of flowers and chose violets. For me.
Rubbing my forehead, I realize I’m starting to get a headache from the flowers. I go back to the door and open it this time.
The corridor is empty. Early morning light shines through the window at the far end, the fire exit sign is there, and a long run of closed doors.
I look left, then right, then step out and check the stairwell.
Nothing, just the echo of my own movement.
I come back and look at the door handle on the outside. The frame. The lock.
No marks. No sign of anything forced or tampered with. I step back inside and close the door.
I set my alarm every night and it’s meant to go off if someone opens the door, so why didn’t it?
A knock hits the door the moment I close it, and it makes me jump.
"Sadie." It’s Juno's voice, muffled, and completely unbothered by the hour. "You up?"
The air comes back into the room and my lungs. I press my hand flat to the door for one second, then I open it.
Juno stands in the corridor in her full kit, her bun pulled high, and her water bottle already in her hand. She’s wearing the expression of someone who finds six fifty in the morning a perfectly reasonable time to be awake. She looks at my face, and her expression shifts by a fraction.
"What happened?"
"Nothing." I step back to let her in. "I just woke up."
"You're already dressed."
"I'm an early bird," I lie. I woke up fifteen minutes ago, and am not ready at all.
"Yesterday you told me mornings were a form of psychological warfare." I smile and turn away from her and drop to the floor for my trainers, reaching for the laces, giving my hands something to do. "Two minutes," she warns me, I need to have a shower, but I don’t have time for that now.
Juno walks away and looks around the place. I’ve not invited anyone over yet, so it’s her first time here.
"Where did those come from?" I don’t need to turn to see what she’s talking about.
My fingers keep moving on the lace as I try to work out what to say. I don’t even know where they come from myself, so what can I say. I could tell her the truth, but then she’ll worry. So, I know a lie will be best.
"They were there yesterday." I pull the knot tight and move to the other foot. "You just didn't notice them."
Silence.
"Sadie…"
"Have you eaten?" I stand, reach for my kit bag, and check the zip. I have steady hands I don’t want to give anything away.
I know I have the same face that I use when Coach Pearce is watching me on the beam and I've already made the error and there's nothing to do now but land it.
"We should grab something before we get there, or you're going to crash by nine, or I’m going to be moody.” I joke.
"Grounds is open from seven," she says.
"Perfect." I swing the bag onto my shoulder and nod at the door. "Let's go."
She moves toward the corridor, I follow, and I don't look at the counter on the way out. I pull the door shut behind me. Check the handle twice, pull out my alarm system on my phone and switch it on and keep moving, trying not to make myself crazy by thinking how the flowers got there. Yet, I know it’s the only thing I’m going to be thinking about.
***
Grounds feels different at nine in the morning than it does at nine at night.
It’s the same amber light, same mismatched chairs, and same handwritten specials board that hasn't changed since Wednesday. But in the morning, it smells like coffee and something that’s been freshly baked.
The people in Grounds are slower, softer, and still assembling themselves into the day.
I bet most of them have a hangover from the party last night.
We get a table in the corner as always, and Bree is wearing her sunglasses indoors because she's been up late last night, and she’s trying to hide it.
"I'm just saying," Juno says, wrapping both hands around her mug before it's even fully on the table. "That was an excellent first party."
"The playlist was terrible," Cara says.
"The playlist was terrible," Juno agrees, completely unbothered. "And it was still excellent."
Maya tears off a piece of her croissant and points it at the ceiling. "The beer pong table. That's what did it for me. The moment Sadie sank that last cup…"
"I knew I'd sink it." I act all confident, but I wasn’t last night when I was playing for the first time.
The coffee arrives, and I wrap my hands around mine and let the warmth move through my palms and up my wrists and I think about last night. I enjoyed it and definitely plan on going to more of them.
"Those guys were good looking though," I say. "The beer pong ones. We should have got their number."
"The tall one especially," Maya says.
"The tall one was looking at you the whole time," Cara tells her, and I agree.
Maya sits up straighter. "He was not."
"He was.”
"He was," Juno and I confirm, simultaneously.
Maya picks up her coffee and takes a very long sip and says nothing, but I see the smile on her face. I’m going to get her to talk to him next time we see him.
"Can we also acknowledge," Bree says, sliding her sunglasses down her nose to look at us properly for the first time this morning. "That was the first party of the year, we are all here, nobody made any decisions we need to debrief in a crisis capacity, and collectively we looked incredible."
"We did look incredible," Juno says.
"The yellow dress," Cara says in my direction.
"I know," I say, because I do know what they mean about my dress. "I'm just upset none of us got lucky. It was the first party and nothing. That feels statistically unlikely."
"It's a long year," Juno says.
"But still. Those beer pong boys. Somebody could have made an effort." No one even tried to hit on me, actually on any of us.
"You were too busy destroying them at their own game," Maya says with a laugh. "Men don’t like that."
"Then they're the wrong men," I say to them, lifting my coffee at them. They all agree, we need to find men who want us even when we’re kicking their ass at a game.
Bree slides her sunglasses back up. "This is going in the group chat."
“Everyone in the group chat is sitting right here,” I tell her, making everyone at the table laugh.
With a laugh, Bree replies, “Yeah, so when one of us makes a stupid decision we can see in the group chat, we agreed to be with an asshole.”
None of us fight her on that, because we all know one of us will fuck up and sleep with someone who is stupid and nowhere close to good enough for us.
After ordering another coffee, because we’ll all need it today, we leave Grounds, coffees in hand, taking the long route toward the athletics building because none of us are really in the mood to do anything.
I’ve a feeling Coach Pearce isn’t going to be happy with us.
So, I think she’ll be pushing us a lot harder this morning.
“You would think with the amount Coach wants us to do, she would let us rest a little,” Juno is moaning about the worksheet Coach gave us. “All I’m saying is…“ Juno stops when Maya fake coughs and grabs my sleeve to get our attention.
"Okay, don't be obvious. Look on your left side, over by the science block," she whispers looking over.
Maya is as subtle as a foghorn. I look left trying hard to look like I’m not looking left.
There's a group of guys outside the science block. One of them is easy to clock. He’s tall, broad, has physical confidence that reads across a distance. He has dark hair and he's laughing at something, with his head tipped back, and completely at home in whatever moment he's in.
"The one in the grey," Maya says. "Tell me I'm wrong."
"You're not wrong," Juno says.
"So hot," Bree confirms.