Red Herring ✔️

46. What Goes Around Comes Around

6 Days to Halloween

On a mission. Nothing could stand in her way. Not her friends, not Christian, not the anxiety creeping up her neck, not the fear of confrontation.

Mazie woke up early, dressed in her best outfit that made her feel confident, drank an extra cup of coffee, and self-administered a pep talk in the bathroom mirror before she sauntered out of the house on a caffeine high. The mission, that she chose and accepted herself, didn't include letting Christian in on what she had planned. Maybe that's why she drank a little extra liquid courage that morning.

Felecia sensed an urgency in her that made her pack her lunch a little faster and pour her coffee in a travel mug which she handed off to Mazie at the front door. They mumbled their goodbyes and Mazie trudged through the encroaching winter chill to her car which she forgot to start to warm up in all her haste getting ready. As she drove to school, she barely felt the cold steering wheel in her hands or heard the radio in the background. In the parking lot, Mazie cruised to a halt and jerked the gearshift into park.

There she waited, watching the streams of cars piling into the parking lot and roaming the aisles for the closest spot to the entrance. Buses coasted into the winding lane that circled the high school where they dropped off students on a bleak dreary morning on a grey white backdrop of a cloudy Hollywood sky. At the front of the school, kids kicked the pumpkins that lined the walkway as decoration and chattered loudly with their friends before another day of learning. Mazie spied some of her friends, bundled up in thick jackets and scarves,  stumbling out of their cars and tromping into school with their heads bowed, ignoring the freezing October temperature.

It wasn't until Mazie identified the car of which the blue color burned on the back of her eyelids that she sat up briskly in her seat, peering closely over the dashboard. Every time she closed her eyes, Mazie saw that car and the driver cruising in slow motion past her own car. Their eyes met. Her brain shut down. It was all downhill from there.

But not this morning. This morning, Mazie was in control. She had a plan and she would let nothing stand in her way. She would see it through with no regrets.

Kicking the Range door open, Mazie zipped up her jacket, tightened her scarf around her neck, and swung her backpack over her shoulder. She exited the vehicle and plopped both feet on the ground with sturdy resilience. With a lift of her chin, Mazie shut the door with her elbow and clicked the lock button, before depositing the keys in her backpack pocket. Without another thought of hesitation, she rhetorically pulled up her britches and sought out the blue car in the high school parking lot.

She walked with purpose through the rows, seeking and hoping to find. She ignored acquaintances and avoided running into people who would move her off her determined path. Mazie focused on the sound of her footsteps, using the slight heavy taps on the pavement to ground her in the present moment to stay out of her head. She already knew what she was going to do, how she was going to act. She couldn't rethink things now.

The blue car rolled into a parking spot and stopped. The red lights flashed and then dimmed as the driver shifted the car into park. A split second later, the engine cut and the fumes exhumed from the exhaust stopped short.

Her breath caught in her chest. Mazie didn't consider herself a confrontational person unless someone pushed the wrong buttons. As she thought about backing out, she reminded herself that someone DID press the wrong buttons. They pressed them hard. And she was fighting back.

Her steps slowed as Mazie watched the driver exit the vehicle and sling one backpack strap over her shoulder.

Without a care in the world, without knowing someone watched her from afar, Mary Ann McCormick ambled away from her car, strolling along in grungy heavy-duty combat boots with a platform heel. Mary Ann rocked the casual cool girl 90s look with her retro black boots that she drifted around in like they didn't weight twenty pounds. Mary Ann walked around like she was averse to general gossip and didn't have ears for teenage girl pettiness. The boots, though fashionable, were not the typical style for Hollywood, Oregon, girls, especially the wealthy of Holden High.