Good Things: Prologue
She couldn't stand it.
It was just too much and finally the straw broke the camel's back.
Linus blatantly telling her all of the reasons he'd never like her just broke her. Granted, it was the umpteenth time he'd done that, but this time just felt different.
Luckily, it was the end of the school day, so Sally Brown grabbed her bag and started walking home, fighting off the tears until she got to the pond. She stopped, sobbing into her hands. What gave him the right? She sat down on the side of the road, not really minding if her favorite pink polkadot skirt got dirty as she cried.
The eighth grader was pulled out of her tears by a familiar voice.
"Sally?"
She looked up to see none other than her friend Schroeder. Could she call him her friend? He was always trailed by Lucy and never really talked to Sally. But, when he did, he was kind enough.
"Wh-what?" She hiccuped.
"What's wrong?" He asked. His blue eyes were filled with worry; an expression she'd never seen on his face.
She just shook her head. "I-I don't-"
"Sally." He sat next to her on the side of the road. "You can tell me."
He sounded so earnest. She found herself wanting so badly to confide in him. "I..." She began after taking a large breath. "L-Linus...gave me the list of reasons why he'll never l-like me again...and it's just too much... I give up..." She whispered, her voice shaking and the occasional sob reaching its way in.
Schroeder stared wide eyed at her before clearing his head. "Want to come over? It's Thursday, my mom made cookies..." He offered, standing up and holding out his hand for her. He'd never been good at verbal comfort, but he wanted to help in whatever way possible.
It was Sally's turned to be wide eyed. "I don't want to be a bother... I know how frustrated you get with Lucy and all." She murmured.
"You're not Lucy." Schroeder grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her up. "Come on." He started walking to his house, not letting go of her hand.
He probably just forgot.
Sally knew he just forgot.
No one would ever want to hold her hand.
The firm, comforting squeeze to her hand and the grin thrown her way as they began to walk proved her wrong.
And that was how it began.
