Monday, January 23, 2017
She was woken up from her afternoon nap with a loud rap on her apartment door, a steaming cup of hot chocolate, and an annoyingly awake and chipper grin.
“C’mon, we’re going skating.” Noel had practically been jumping when he said it.
Sail had begrudgingly accepted the hot chocolate but not his offer.
“It will be fun!” He’d countered, “And I can start my research for your in depth exposé on the secret societies of Brookline Academy.”
“Society,” Sail had corrected him, “there’s only one at Brookline.” He shrugged, leaned against her doorway, and held out a pair of powder blue ice skates.
Half an hour later Sail found herself wrapped in a baby pink sweater stepping onto the gelid blue ice behind the Winthrop police station.
“So you guys were responsible for the mayor’s missing goldfish and replacing every album in Rose Records with whale sounds?”
Sail stumbled a little on the chipped ice. “Haha yep.”
Noel barked out a laugh, he seemed to find all their pranks amusing.
Sail winced. She hadn’t gotten to the big one yet, if she got to it.
Maybe he wouldn’t even remember about the giant pool of blood in the park. The town had virtually forgotten all about it only two weeks later.
As if someone could sense her guilt, the police station backdoor swung open, revealing two cops. But they paid no attention to Noel and Sail. Instead, they walked over to the other side of the pond with 3 inmates shuffling behind them, handcuffs and all.
Sail stopped skating, baffled.
“Oh yeah, they let the inmates out here sometimes,” Noel nonchalantly said, following her gaze, “aren’t they cute?” he half joked as they watched the criminals slip around on the ice.
A laugh escaped Sail’s chapped lips. All she could think of was Caroline and the other Primrose Girls out here in orange jumpers fumbling around, all of their pranks finally catching up with them.
Her cheeks reddened from laughter, joy bubbled up in her chest from the outrageous, amusing picture.But then Sail remember she’d be out there with them. She’d been a part of all of it. She looked over at Noel, who was currently attempting a figure eight. He thought he was writing a story about missing goldfish and innocent jokes, but he completely oblivious to the, not-so-innocent, pool of blood still weighing down on Sail’s chest.