TW: this chapter contains a scene of a sickness and eating disorder. Read with caution.
Lucy felt pretty proud of herself for figuring out her life's purpose. It had practically been right in front of her face this entire time. She couldn't believe that she hadn't noticed it before now. She had been bossing around Charlie Brown and giving him advice for years. It would be even better if she knew what to say to real clients instead of an overthinking blockhead. She finally felt that she had a future in front of her.
"I can't believe I thought I would ever be a housewife," Lucy was telling Sally in the hallway. "As if I could be confined to someone telling me what to do all the time."
"I think a good husband wouldn't be bossy but would respect you," Sally argued as she shut her locker.
"You think that because you have my brother under some sort of spell," Lucy rolled her eyes. "He would do almost anything for you."
"Perhaps," Sally giggled.
"Count yourself lucky. Many men just—" she closed her mouth as Schroeder passed the pair. She couldn't help but meet his glancing stare. Her heart fluttered, then sunk as he disappeared.
"You know he isn't with Frieda right?" Sally chimed, bringing Lucy back to life. She didn't answer. "You could still patch things up."
She folded her arms. "He's not making any effort either."
"Well, he did come to your house," Sally reminded. "And you stopped trying as soon as you saw Frieda in your place. Now, the Lucy I know wouldn't let someone steal her place." Lucy gave her a sharp look. The little blonde was right.
Lucy groaned. "I hate it when you're right. You need to stop spending time with my brother. He's putting a bad influence on you."
"Sure," Sally smiled.
Charlie kicked another ball through the goalpost. It was the eve of his final playoff game. If they were to win once again, their school would be off to the state championship. He sighed as he lined another ball up. He had been kicking for almost two hours since practice ended. At first, he had a few teammates to keep him company, but now the sky was filling with stars, the air was turning briskly cold, and Charlie was alone with the ball and his thoughts. It was easier to forget his thoughts when there were others with him, but now his mind was filled.
This was what he wanted. He wanted Heather. That was all he had ever wanted in his entire life. She was right there, waiting for him. They had been talking every day at school. She smiled at him in the hall, and he had walked her home for a few times. He should be the happiest guy in the entire world. Yet here he was, kicking football after football, trying to avoid his thoughts of Marcie.
He had hurt her. By what, he wasn't sure. Charlie hated that look on her face that haunted his brain. He saw her in a dream last night. She was peeking out her window, the rain dripping from the roof of her home. Behind her glasses, her hazel eyes were hollow. It was as if she was staring at him like he was a stranger. And how could he ever be a stranger, when...when...
Charlie wiped his mouth after he took a drink of water. That was the other thing. Not a day had gone by since he thought of their accidental kiss. It was so brief and yet Charlie remembered it so vividly. It wasn't what he thought a kiss should be like. There should be passion...and it should be with someone he wants to kiss...like Heather. But he had kissed Heather before and it was much different than this. It was...comforting?
He kicked the ball harder. He didn't even watch it as it flew through the goalpost. His joints were sore, but what was he going to do when he got home? He would sit and think about all that he didn't understand. It was all so frustrating. He had a game to prepare for, and love again boggled his mind. He felt like a blockhead, an idiot, or any other name that Lucy had called him in all the years she had yanked that football from under him. All of his life, he had been pushed and shoved around, and even now he was getting in the way of himself.
He kicked with all of the strength that he had within himself, but he didn't kick the ball. His angle tingled with flaming pain as he kicked the ground. He winced in pain as he fell to his knees. Catching his breath, Charlie rubbed his ankle, letting the pain subside before he stood up again.
Everyone was gathered for the pep rally. The whole school was buzzing with excitement. It had been almost a decade since they had come this close to the state. Linus even felt more inclined to show his support for the sport. He didn't bring a book this time, per Sally's request. She sat beside him, wearing a yellow sweater with a pin showing off her brother's number.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Sally asked him again for the third time. She was referring to her attire. She had somewhat managed to forgive Charlie for his outburst. Linus had to admit he was over the grudge. He just wanted his friend back.
"Yes, Sally," he reassured her calmly. "You should support him. He's done amazing work this season."
"I wish you could wear one too," Sally hugged his arm. "You supported him long before anyone else."
"He doesn't want it that way," Linus reminded. "There will be a time for forgiveness. I know there will."
"Preaching again, Linus?" Patty asked as she and Marcie sat down next to him.
"Just reminding myself that this situation won't be permanent."
"What? Pig-Pen's ponytail?" Franklin jabbed from the bleacher above. They all shared a chuckle.
Instead of smiling, Pig-Pen looked up at Franklin before sitting next to him. "You said you liked my ponytail."
"When it's brushed," Franklin whipped the long tail into his companion's face. The two began to go into their usual teasing. Linus looked back into the crowd. Heather was in the front row, talking to some other girls who were important to the football team. Linus took a glance at Marcie, she was watching too.
"I'm sorry about what happened, by the way," Linus whispered to her. "Charlie doesn't know what's good for him."
"I used to believe that to be false," Marcie muttered.
"He'll come to his senses," Linus tried to console her.
"But will he ever be the same?" Marcie contemplated.
Linus had never thought about that. Charlie had changed a lot in these last few months. If he were to reflect on his behavior, surely he wouldn't be the same old Charlie Brown. "He would be better." Marcie broke from her stare and looked at Linus. "He'll learn from his mistakes, sooner or later."
Marcie gave him a small smile. "I certainly will."
Lucy had thought about her and Sally's conversation all day. She was right. Lucy wouldn't have let Frieda take her place like that. What had stopped her from stopping Frieda? She still had feelings for Schroeder. He had tried to apologize, and she was the one who had chased him off. What if he also still had feelings for her? Certainly, he would have at least something left for her.
She had watched him for a lot of the pep rally. He didn't turn his head once, as Frieda tried to whisper to him over and over. Lucy knew Schroeder would've whispered back to her if she was in Frieda's place. So Sally was right, they weren't together. If they aren't together, then Lucy still has something to hope for between her and Schroeder. Something real.
She had to make things up to him.
Inside the practice room, Schroeder set down his stuff. He was gonna play the melody again. Except now it was more than melody. He was constructing a full-length song. It had become something of a hyper-fixation of his. He had almost two full sheets of music for it. He was going to go to the playoff game today, but he figured he could fit in a least an hour of practice before going home and getting ready for the drive.
The door flew open, and Frieda hopped up onto the piano. She sat right in front of his nose, sliding his bag across the piano to make room. "Hey, Mozart," she grinned. He silently groaned. Beethoven. He played Beethoven. "Are you gonna play me something lovely?"
"You shouldn't jump onto the piano," Schroeder said, grabbing his bag again. "It's a classical instrument, not a trampoline." Before Frieda could come up with some excuse, he groaned. "I forgot my music in my locker. I'll be back."
"Okay!" Frieda cheerfully waved as he left. As soon as the door closed, she slumped. "How long is it going to take?" she groaned. She looked down at her purple top. It was tailored nicely to her figure, and she knew her hair was perfectly curly today. What was wrong with him? She had been sitting on this piano for a few weeks, waiting for him. He should be drooling over her by now.
Frieda has had other boyfriends before, she knew she was desirable. She had liked Schroeder ever since she was a girl. The quiet types are the most complimenting, she believed. Lucy had been in her way, however. Not that she didn't like Lucy. They were quite actually good friends for a long time. Just like many girls, they drifted away from each other in high school. Lucy seemed to focus more on her goals while Frieda focused on the more important matters of a teenage girl, her beauty and natural curly hair.
She looked down at the bag next to her hip. Perhaps she could find some more leverage to sway his attention to her. She filed through the bag, peering at his assignments and notebooks. "Nothing good," she muttered. She tossed the bag back, hearing something fall to the floor. She sighed, getting down and peering at where the lost item had gone. She then gasped.
"I was going to look for my necklace."
"What does it look like?"
"A blue stone."
Frieda looked at the necklace. Schroeder had it this whole time? Surely he knew she was missing it. But then that would mean that...
"No," Frieda strung the necklace around her neck. The door swung open with a knock.
"Schroeder?" Lucy asked before opening the door fully. Her heart was racing, but she knew she had to do this. She jumped back slightly when she saw Frieda there, smiling a little too nicely.
"He's not here yet," Frieda stepped a little closer, playing her necklace. "Did you need something?"
"Not from you," Lucy shook her head. "I'll wait—" Lucy had noticed the necklace that Frieda was playing with. It was her necklace. The one that had been missing since she fell out with Schroeder. "Where did you get that?" she asked in a whisper. She couldn't look at Frieda in the eyes.
"Oh," Frieda looked down as if she didn't realize she was wearing it. "Schroeder gave this to me a while ago."
"He..." Lucy couldn't breathe. Her heart had dropped to her stomach, her face had gone pure white. "W-why?"
"Just a loving gesture," Frieda shrugged. She looked at it, stopping for a moment. "Wait? Wasn't this the one you were looking for? Oh my! I'm so sorry. You can have it ba—"
"No..." Lucy managed to mutter. She felt like she was going to throw up. She took a step back, hitting a body.
Schroeder was there behind her, holding sheet music with an expression filled with surprise. "Lucy?"
Lucy tried to say something, but she couldn't.
"Lucy? Are you alright?" Schroeder tried to put a hand on her shoulder, but Lucy pushed through him, running out of the room to the nearest restroom.
Schroeder had tried to chase after her, but she was too quick. She was out of the music room before they could even turn around. "Poor thing, I think she was falling ill," Frieda said slowly, getting back up onto the piano.
Lucy didn't look ill to Schroeder, but rather panicked. What would've made her so anxious? "What did you say to her?" Schroeder asked.
"Nothing," Frieda shook her head, straightening her necklace. "She came in here looking for you. Then turned white as a ghost."
"Wait," Schroeder grabbed Frieda's wrists. She looked at him with a smile.
"I was wondering when you would finally notice."
"This is Lucy's necklace," Schroeder looked at the pendant.
"Is it?" Frieda asked.
"How would you have this? It was in my bag." His face suddenly felt very hot. "You looked through my stuff?"
"No!" Frieda bit her lip. "Well, yes. But I just wanted to find something to relate with you."
"What?"
"Schroeder," Frieda raised a brow. "Haven't you noticed me at all?"
"Yes. You do a good job of making your presence known," Schroeder unhanded her and took off the necklace.
"Schroeder," Frieda turned his head back to her. "You and I get along well. I don't understand why you're so mad at me."
"Cause you've ruined my chances of..." he didn't want to say the word out loud. Frieda widened her eyes.
"Are you serious? I thought you believed Lucy to be a nuisance?"
"She's no nuisance compared to you," Schroeder stepped away. "Is there anything else that I don't know about?" She looked down at the floor. "Tell me, he commanded. She didn't answer. "Tell me," he growled.
"She came here the very first week I started coming in here," Frieda finally said. "She said she was looking for her necklace, but I knew she was looking for you."
Schroeder's heart ached, fueling his rage. She had come to see him twice. She wanted to make things up with him, twice. "And you turned her away?"
"I did what I did to keep you," Frieda flipped her hair. "Some boys would find that admirable."
"Well, then go find those boys," Schroeder pointed at the door. "Goodbye, Frieda."
"What?"
"Please, just go," Schroeder pointed at the door again.
Frieda got her bag and went to the door, turning back to him one last time. "You'll regret this. She doesn't like music as much as me."
"At least she knows the difference between Mozart and Beethoven," Schroeder grabbed the door handle. She walked out without another word, and he slammed the door after her.
With his good hand, he ran his fingers through his hair. He was just so angry. This whole time he had been beating himself up. He had been so heartbroken and felt like there had been no hope for his feelings for Lucy. That this whole break was something that she wanted and had no second thoughts on. She had been trying to reach him this entire time. They could've been together and stronger for the last month.
Schroeder kicked over the piano stool and threw his backpack to the ground. The only thing that took him out of his rage was the sound of paper ripping. He gasped, looking at on of his music sheets torn in two. "No," he whispered as he fell to his knees. He picked up the papers. He could fix them with some tape. Trying to catch his breath, Schroeder leaned back against the wall, opening his bad hand. Lucy's necklace stared back at him.
"Oh, Lucy," he sighed. He would have to make things right.
When he had collected himself, Schroeder packed up his things, put his coat back on, and left the practice room without playing a single note. He drove to the van Pelt house, where he knocked on the front door. Lucy's mother opened the door. "Can I talk to Lucy, please?" he asked, desperately. Mrs. van Pelt took in his appearance. He was sure that he wasn't looking his best, but that didn't matter now.
"I'm afraid not. She isn't home."
"Ah," Schroeder stepped away. "She told you to say that?"
"No, I haven't seen her at all today."
"She didn't come home?"
"No. She and Linus went to the big game with the Browns."
"I see," Schroeder collected himself. "Thank you." He was about to walk away when the woman called out to him.
"Schroeder," Mrs. van Pelt put her hand on the door. "I don't know what's going on, but I know Lucy is stubborn. I wouldn't expect to be in her good graces right away." Schroeder gave her a nod and ran to his car. He didn't have time to waste. He felt like he was dancing on the bridge of a song. Everything was quick and intense, and he was running out of time if he were to hit the final chord that left a good feeling in your soul.
Lucy didn't go home. She didn't leave the school for about a half hour after she ran from Schroeder. She hadn't thrown up in years. To be fair, she hadn't eaten enough to throw up lately. She felt relieved, but every time she thought of what had just happened, she did it again. After about five repeats, Lucy felt that she should at least attempt to go home.
She walked with the cold wind blowing in her face. Relying on instinct rather than vision, Lucy watched her feet as she crossed the grass to the back door of her home. The TV was on, and her mother was doing the dishes. Her footsteps had gone unnoticed as she made the final trudge up to her room. She barely closed the door before dropping her backpack on the floor, nearly dragging the rest of her body with her.
Lucy had never felt lighter or heavier before this moment. She went to her knees, feeling the shag carpet between her fingers. It was slightly soothing. Going into a daze, Lucy looked around her dark room. She was trying to remember how she got there. A hand went to her stomach. She felt so full, and her clothes were tightening around her. She stood trying to find her basket.
It was under her nightstand. With heavy steps, Lucy tried to snatch it. Her body then fell with her hand. The last thing she remembered was the feeling of the shag carpet under her cheek.
When Schroeder arrived at the game, he dashed inside the field. The game had just started, and many people had already taken their seats. Schroeder searched desperately with his eyes for Lucy. As he kept looking, walking towards the full bleachers, he wanted to see anyone he knew. It seemed that he was in a pool of strangers. A lot more people liked high school sports than Schroeder had ever thought.
Then he saw a group of hands raising in the air. Schroeder smiled as he saw Sally waving first, Linus right next to her. He took the stairs two at a time to get to them. When he reached their level, he stopped, raising his gaze in hopes of seeing Lucy, but she wasn't among the gang. Pig-Pen, Franklin, Marice, and Patty marked the rest of the group. Schroeder simply looked at them in disbelief, too out of breath to say anything.
"Is anyone gonna move?" Patty asked, making everyone at least turn their heads. Schroeder still wasn't convinced. She had to be here. And if not here, then where?
"Why are you as white as a ghost?" Sally asked him, bringing him back.
"Where's Lucy?" he asked with a rasp. He looked to Linus. "I went to your house, but your mom said she was gonna ride up with you."
"I thought so too, but she didn't show." Linus looked at Sally. "Sally told me we could leave without her."
Sally's eyes went to the ground for a moment before she met Schroeder's glare. "I assumed she would've already been with you?"
"Why?"
"Because I told her to stop beating around the bush and to make things up with you," Sally smiled. Everyone shared a look. It made his heart ache.
"Yeah, I saw her."
"And?" at least half the group asked in unison.
"I need to find her. Now."
"She's not here," Linus shook his head. Schroeder didn't bother to wave before he started back down the bleachers and out of the game entirely. He got back in his car, and drove fast back home.
"That was odd," Patty folded her arms.
"Whatever happened, it wasn't good," Franklin proposed. There was a nod of agreement.
"I hope they can make up," Sally chimed. "After all this Charlie business, we could use a happy ending." She looked to her boyfriend, who was sitting quietly beside her. Like Schroeder was, he had turned pale too. She gave him a small nudge. "It'll be alright between them. I know Lucy will forgive him."
"It's not that," Linus shook his head. "It's weird that Lucy didn't go home."
"There's a phone here I think," Sally looked down. "You could give your mom a call during halftime."
Linus seemed to relax at that idea. "Yeah, I think I'll do that." Sally hugged his arm before watching the game again. It was rather close. 12 to 13. She had a feeling this would be a nail-biter until the end. She looked down at her brother on the bench. He had made a great kick to get them ahead, but she was hoping the pressure wasn't getting to him. If there was one she knew about her brother that would never change, it was that Charlie Brown would always fear that the ball was going to be pulled away.
...
"Hello? Mom?" Linus held the receiver to his ear. "Yeah, it's Linus." Sally watched his face as she held a bag of popcorn. She couldn't hear the other end like she could at home. There were too many people chatting and filling the air with cheers for her to hear any of the words. "Yeah, we're neck and neck. The radio isn't doing it justice. That's not what I'm calling about. Is Lucy home?"
There was a long silence. Linus met Sally's gaze multiple times before speaking again. "She never showed up at the Browns. We couldn't wait for her. You haven't heard her upstairs, have you? She might have come in the back way?" Another pause. "You had dinner and she wasn't there? That's not surprising. Could you just check upstairs and see if she's there? I'm not sure where else she would be."
Linus managed a grin this time. "Oh, dad heard her come in? That's good. Just check on her and make sure she's okay. I think Schroeder is gonna visit her before the end of the night...Yep sounds good. I'll see you later. Bye."
Linus hung up the phone, the color returning to his face. Sally grinned before he swiped his arm around her. "I'm glad she's safe," Sally said as she tried to keep the popcorn safe from being crushed.
"Me too," Linus sighed. "Now I can enjoy the rest of the game in peace."
Charlie had been out on the field more than he had expected. At every opportunity, he had been kicking field goals just to stay ahead. This mixed with him going on regular offense had felt more tiring than ever before. The air was cold, his heart pounded, and his lungs were heavy as they moved in the fourth quarter. They were down by one with two minutes left. With fifty yards to go, Charlie was readying himself to at least save the team and go into overtime.
Sure enough, after a minute of playtime, and still thirty-five yards to score, Charlie was brought onto the field. He rolled out his ankle, which was still sore from last night's practice. His teammates clapped him on the back, giving him words of encouragement and pressure. It was all up to him. He had to save them from losing. He knew he could do it. He had to, otherwise he would never forgive himself.
As he readied himself behind the placeholder, he looked to the crowd. He didn't know what or who he was hoping to see. It was all just a blur of people, cheering his name. He wondered if Marcie was among them. Would she be cheering? Or would she be sitting in the stands reading a book? Or would she be at home, where she could pretend that he didn't exist at all?
Before he knew it, the whistle blew. Before he could give himself a second thought, Charlie quickly regained formation and went up to kick the ball. Before he could hear the ball lift from his foot, he heard a crack in his ankle. Before he could see if the ball soared, he saw the bright stadium lights above him. Before he could see the medics rush to him, he saw nothing.
Schroeder made it back in almost a record time. He was about to turn down the road where the Van Pelt's house resided when he heard the sirens. He pulled over to the right side of the road when the ambulance rushed past him. Once he was in the clear, he turned down the road to see the emergency vehicle had stopped in front of his destination. He stopped immediately.
Responders were met with a frantic Mrs. Van Pelt at the door. They rushed inside with a stretcher in hand. Schroeder struggled to breathe but remained frozen. All was silent as they were in the house. He didn't take his eyes away. He had to see if it was her. He prayed it wasn't, but he knew it was bad of him to wish harm on anyone else. Someone was in trouble regardless.
Then he saw her being carried out. Her raven hair fell from the stretcher. She was breathing, that much he could tell, but her hand had slipped from the carrier. It was limp.