Disclaimer: I do not own the Kane Chronicles.
Author's Note: Please review, I honestly would like to know what people think of this story.
It was Lace who opened Marisol's door to let her in. "You didn't have to come, Sadie. I mean I'm glad that you came but…"
"But?" Sadie asked as she readily showed herself into Marisol's flat.
"I don't think Marisol wants to see you. I mean she barely wants me here," Lacy carefully explained, doing her best to tread around Sadie's temper.
"What? Why wouldn't she want me here? We've been friends since BAG. I was there for her when she was pregnant," Sadie argued. There wasn't any logical reason why Marisol wouldn't want her here that Sadie could think of.
Lacy didn't have to answer because just then the soft high-pitched voice of Marisol's young daughter warily asked, "Why is Mama crying?" Roselle still wore her Disney Princess pajamas as her favorite doll hung limply from her tiny fist.
"Roselle," Lacy squeaked. "Umm… I rather hoping you knew, darling."
The child frowned. Roselle quietly scanned the flat before asking, "Where's daddy? He usually stays until I wake up."
Sadie's and Lacy's eyes went wide. Sadie hesitantly glanced toward Lacy. "Did she just…?"Sadie pondered aloud.
Lacy nodded.
"But I didn't…"
"Me neither."
"So she's been in contact with the father all these years and never mentioned that fact to us," Sadie bitterly summarized.
"Pretty much," Marisol answered from her bedroom's doorframe. Sadie bit her lip. Marisol's hair was bedraggled and she wore only a loose robe. Her cheeks were red from crying.
"You could've told us," Lacy sweetly commented.
"Yeah, I wouldn't have minded a few words with the pig that knocked you up," Sadie brashly remarked.
Marisol frowned sadly and disappeared back into her rooms, where the sound of muffled sobs soon slipped though the doorway. Lacy exasperatedly glanced at Sadie stating, "Perhaps you could try a little more tact. I just managed to get her to stop her crying half an hour ago."
"Sorry," Sadie shrugged. "I wasn't aware it would set her off again."
Lacy sighed. "I'll go comfort her. Just watch the kid, okay?"
Reluctantly she nodded, "Fine." Lacy promptly nodded and disappeared after Marisol, leaving Sadie alone with Roselle.
Roselle already had spread out on the couch, turning the TV on to Disney Channel. Sadie forced a smile as she sweetly asked, "So what are we watching, Ro?"
"Roselle, it's Roselle," the kid venomously spat.
Sadie paused, a bit taken back by the child's slightly aggressive response. "Um, sorry."
"No you're not."
Sadie plopped down on the couch next to the runt. "Okay, kid. I don't think—"
"Shut up." Roselle even avoided looking at her, like she was the messy room that a parent tells their kid to clean.
Sadie's brow furrowed in frustrated confusion. "Do you not—" she started only to be cut off curtly by the young girl.
"I hate you," Roselle firmly stated.
Sadie gaped. "Well that's rude. Hasn't Marisol taught you any manners?"
The kid had the nerve to smirk.
Speechless, Sadie slumped back into the cushiony comfort of the couch. She couldn't very well curse at or name-call the daughter of one of her best friends. That didn't stop curiosity from burning in the back of her throat as she watch Sofia the First, though. Her eyes flickered back and forth between the TV screen and the little brat. Something about the kid's face had always bothered Sadie, mostly because the girl seemed to look a lot like the kid's father. Roselle had dark, almost black wavy curls, that didn't match the golden auburn locks that her mother possessed. The child's eyes were brown, a lot like Anubis's now that she thought about it, and the opposite of Marisol's blue irises. Not to mention the child had seriously pale skin.
"Stop that," Roselle irritably chided.
"What?"
"You know what?" the girl retorted.
"No, I don't!" Sadie exclaimed. In the back of her mind she groaned and reprimanded herself. She was arguing with a five year old. Roselle was five, right? Or was it six? Ugh… it's not like it mattered, at the end of the day she's would still be a little girl. She was going to get married soon, and someday she was going to have to deal with her own children's tantrums, and instead of learning how to interact with kids now, she was nearly screaming at one. How pathetic.
"Looking at me like that," the child whined.
"Like what?"
"Like…like you did," Roselle babbled.
Sadie rolled her eyes before throwing a glance towards Marisol's room. She could still hear faint sobs leaking through the walls and Lacy's attempts to comfort their friend. It made sense Lacy was the one comforting her, she knew Marisol better. Lacy had introduced them, after all.
"Whatever, kid," Sadie conceded. It wasn't worth her time to fight with an immature rotten brat. That one question still bugged her, though, and so she turned to Roselle and calmly asked, "Why do you hate me?"
Roselle glared at her. "I don't know, just do," the young girl harshly muttered.
Sadie sighed and detached her butt from the comfortable couch cushions. She silently crept towards Marisol's door, curiously glancing inside. Marisol was on the floor, tears still pouring from the corners of her eyes. Sadie vaguely recalled her hatred for the girl Marisol had been. Marisol was Lacy's age but had been in Sadie's grade. She had transferred to BAG in eighth grade… immediately adopted by Drew and her goonies, for some inexplicable reason she had soon became Drew's conniving understudy.
The first day of eighth grade, it was the art room. Sadie was chatting with one of the other girl's in her grade, who just happened to be sitting beside her, when it came to her attention that a group of Drew's goonies were giggling like fiends all the while throwing pointed looks at her throughout the entire hour. Madame Beccaria had decided on painting for their first assignment of the year and so naturally at the end of the hour one of Drew's robot's had befouled her combat boots with leftover paint from her palate. The new girl with auburn curls and blue eyes. A war of insults, pranks, and slights began that day between them. The girl's apologetic performance had Madame Beccaria believing every last word, even Sadie caught herself almost believing it, though, she knew better. Marisol had done it on purpose, and thus the detention for her fist colliding with Marisol's pretty little face had completely worth it. By the end of eighth grade Marisol was in a prime position to knock Drew out of her top spot as most the despicable human being on the planet. That of course was before she truly met Marisol that day when she surprise visited Lacy and found the two splayed out of the floor watching some ancient horror flick.
The girl laughing at the awful special effects presented by the gory film scene nearly choked on the popcorn she had been guzzling. Their eyes met and Sadie knew the girl was caught in a spot that meant things couldn't carry on as they previously had.
Lacy started at the sight of Sadie. "Uh, Sade…what are you doing here?" Lacy asked in that obvious high-pitched manner that reveals someone had just walked in on something they were not supposed to have seen.
Sadie casually shrugged and answered, "Thought we could hang out, you and I." Marisol fidgeted nervously, clearly noting the emphasis placed on that last word. "Better question," Sadie glared at Marisol as she uttered in disgust, "What is she doing here?"
Both Lacy and Marisol were speechless. Tentative glances toward the other revealed their struggle to accurately explain the situation. Neither spoke, so impatiently Sadie demanded, "Well? What's it I'm not supposed to know?"
Lacy gulped. "Uh…" she faintly murmured, "Marisol, uh, she's my friend."
Sadie's eyes went wide as her jaw fell into a deep scowl. "Why?" she exclaimed in puzzlement. "Marisol's the enemy, Drew's minion. She's been a total b***h to both of us. She destroyed our history project last November, or have you forgotten?"
Marisol sighed. "You've have a point, but I'm afraid it's not that black and white, hon," the girl calmly stated, wearing a hesitant smile.
Sadie raised one brow. "Really, do go on?"
It was Lacy who answered. "You know that gossip column in the school paper."
Sadie nodded.
"It's a joint project between me…and Marisol," Lacy explained.
What had already been unimaginable seemed to only grow more complicated. "Okay," Sadie muttered. It still wasn't really okay. "But, uh, why with her? I mean you could've asked me to help," she bitterly remarked.
"Because we've been best friends since diapers. In seventh grade we came up with the idea for the column and figured that we'd cover more ground if we split up, so we faked a huge fight after I transferred. Lacy joined with the outcasts. She had the braces, and well she's pretty darn nice. I took the popular crowd. I've always liked a challenge and had the cunning to play Drew's game. Even Drew doesn't know we're behind the column," Marisol nonchalantly reflected.
Sadie's mouth had gradually fallen open during the girl's explanation. She blankly blinked a dozen times rotating her stare from Lacy to Marisol. Eyes resting on Lacy, Sadie angrily whined, "And you didn't think to include me in on this delightful plot?" Lacy sighed in gracious relief, though she shot a fleet glance toward Marisol, a glance that silently shouted their reason.
Marisol laughed. "We…" she paused, pondering the diction choice that would be least likely to get her killed, "didn't think you could keep a secret." Sadie laughed. Loudly and gleefully as she reflected upon the secret life she would never tell Lacy or any of her other normal mortal friends at school (excluding Liz and Emma, of course). It was funny that these two went to such lengths to keep the miniscule issue of a gossip column secret when she kept the ginormous secret of the House of Life and Egypt's gods hush.
Grabbing the bowl of popcorn from Marisol, she contentedly sat beside the girl, who hours earlier had been her enemy. Now she was an equal, well only on school terms. After all, Sadie had been the eye of a god while Marisol still was only a human. "So…all of it was an act?" A mischievous glimmer shone in that girl's eyes as she curtly nodded. "Impressive," Sadie murmured.
"Now that you know our secret, I'll be nicer next year. I actually wouldn't mind it if we became friends. You have a few admirable traits, I'll grant you that," Marisol remarked.
Sadie snorted. "Likewise. But don't be nicer, cause I'm definitely not going to be. Let's make it quite the performance, my dear. We can expose all of Drew's dirty secrets while we're at it."
Marisol's easy smile lit up her face. "Sounds like fun." However, she was nicer next year. She fell out of Drew's favor.
Returning to the present Sadie solemnly watched her friend sob. She sighed before loudly declaiming, grabbing the attention of the two on the floor, "I'm going. Anubis and I have something that needs discussing. I'll call you both later."
Marisol momentarily seemed to pull herself together, wiping the tears away with the sleeve of her robe. She licked her chapped lips and made to speak, but words came with difficulty. "It was kind of you to come," her brokenhearted friend meekly thanked.
"It's nothing," Sadie commented, taking her leave from the flat.
Marisol waited until the door closed behind Sadie before taking a deep shaky breath and turning to Lacy. She sniffled. "Thanks for pretending you didn't know," Marisol sweetly murmured. Lacy's steady hand placed itself firmly on Marisol's shoulder in an assuring gesture.
"It's better she doesn't know. So…it's over."
Marisol weakly nodded.
Lacy sighed. "It should've never happened."
"Yeah, then we'd actually be happy for her," sadness tainted each syllable, showing Marisol's disgust for only herself.
Lacy hugged her dear friend. "Do you think you'll be okay?" she asked, already seeing the answer in her friend's eyes.
Marisol frowned. "No, but I'll do what I've always done, act like I am."
