Mark and Rosalie

 

The screen asked her what that night’s calculus homework was, asked her what that night’s calculus homework was and then told her it didn’t matter, asked her what that night’s calculus homework was and then told her it didn’t matter because he had a gun.

“What does that mean?” she typed back, though she thought she knew.

“I’m done, you know? Just done,” popped up on the chat log.

She had been editing her essay on Genesis for her Bible class when that familiar ‘bloop’ sounded. When she saw who it was, mwade131, her heart sunk. No one at Saint Paul’s High liked Mark Wade and Mark Wade didn’t like anyone at Saint Paul’s – except for her, it seemed.

Their awkward connection had started early, when they both attended public elementary school; they were the only two students who received full scholarships to attend the prep school. But, while Rosalie Thompson flourished there, and became president of her class, Mark Wade seemed to fade away, spending his lunches alone in the school library. They talked occasionally, like this, on instant messenger – not at school.

She fanned through her daily planner and found that night’s assignment.

“Chapter 5.4, 3, 5, 7, 9, 35-57 odd, 63, 64, 65.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you actually going to do it?”

“I’ve got nothing else going on.”

“Is this what you really want to be doing right now?

“If there was anything I actually wanted to be doing I wouldn’t be in this situation – would I, Rosalie?”

“I guess not, but you don’t have to be condescending. Good luck trying to solve 49 – it’s tricky”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, do you remember what Ms. Trimble was going on about that day when we were analyzing Genesis 6:5? Something about God seeing the wickedness of man?”

“Yeah, she was just saying that God regretted making man and he only saw good in Noah. The usual – nothing too deep, pretty much exactly what’s written.”

“Thanks, Mark.”

“No problem.”

“Gotta go, okay?”

“Sure.”

Smilingrose91 logged off.

She held her breath. Her word document was still blaring on her computer screen. She saved and closed it, too – now all that was left was her background picture, a photo that was taken of her and her boyfriend John Ackland last year – at junior prom. She closed her eyes. She thought about calling someone – calling John, calling Mark, calling her older sister. Calling 911.

She opened her documents folder and reopened her essay on Genesis. She read her thesis. It was good, but still needed some work. As she was typing, her old cell phone started rattling and flashing on her desk, interrupting the gentle pattering of her fingers on the keyboard. It was just her friend Jenny – she flipped open the clunky silver phone.

“Hola Jen, qué pasa?”

“I can’t figure out number forty-nine on the math homework. Did you do it?”

“Yeah, let me get it out. Okay, it’s just like example six except you have to reverse the sigma and make it negative.”

“Oh, that makes sense. Wait, can you, like, stay on the phone while I finish the problem?”

“Sure, I’m just working on the Genesis essay. Are you ready for the Spanish test tomorrow?”

“Ugh, yeah, I think so, it’s just on el subjuntivo, right?

“Mm-hm, Jenny?”

“Yeah.”

“You know Mark Wade?”

“Oh god, what about him?”

“Nothing, it’s just that he was IM-ing me.”

“Ew, about what?”

Rosalie paused a moment. She could just tell Jenny. Jenny was sensible, that’s what Rosalie liked about her. She was bubbly and giggly like the other girls at Saint Paul’s, but she was smart and comforting too. Jenny would call the police for her – she would hang up and call the police.

“Nothing really interesting. He just seemed kind of...”

“Okay, I think I got it. Did you get six pi?”

“Yeah, that sounds right.”

“Wait, what were you about to say about Mark Wade?”

“Nothing. Just that I thought it was weird he was IM-ing me.”

“I thought you told me you two IM all the time? Like, it’s your thing”

“No, not all the time. I just thought it was weird.”

“Okay, I guess.”

“And, I told you that in confidence. It’s not like we’re best friends or anything, okay?”

“You know I’ve already claimed that position! Look, don’t worry – I’ve got you covered, señorita.”

“Thanks Jen, can you do lunch tomorrow”

“For sure  – gracias por the help, Rosalie”

“Okay, see you mañana.”

“Buenos noches.”

“Good night.”

She smacked her phone closed. She had almost told her. She should have told her. Why didn’t she tell her?

 

She double-clicked to reopen her IM. There it was, mwade131 was logged on.

“Mark?”

“Are you still there?”

“Do you want me to call someone?”

“If you don’t answer I’m calling 911.”

            No response. She picked up her phone again. Wasn’t there some special way to dial 911 on a cell phone? She wasn’t sure what the rules were; maybe it was just the normal way? Another bloop. Her boyfriend, johnackland01, had just logged on.

“Hey babe.”

“Hey John.”

“I’m gonna be busy at lunch tomorrow. I have a baseball meeting.”

“I know, Jeremy told me – I’m having lunch with Jenny. We can do Friday, yeah?”

“Sounds good, have you finished your Genesis essay? What’s your thesis?”

“Um, yeah, I have, but I have to go. Lo siento!”

“That’s cool.”

            Smilingrose91 logged off.

            Rosalie looked around her room. It wasn’t really big or small, but it was a decent size considering she lived in an apartment. Her desk was next to her bed and her shelves were crammed with books and picture albums. She got up from the swivel chair she had been sitting in and walked over to her closet, which held multiples of the Saint Paul’s uniform mixed in with the outlet store clothes she wore on weekends.

            She called Mark. The phone was ringing. Once, twice, three times. She was nervous, what if he didn’t pick-up? What if he didn’t pick up? Four times.

            “Hello?’

            “Oh god, Mark. What is your problem?”

            “What?”

            “I IM-ed you!”

            “Yeah, I saw – I’m still waiting on that ambulance.”

“Well, do you want me to call?”

“It doesn’t really make a difference.”

“I don’t know what to do with this information, Mark. You told me you’re going to kill yourself – what am I supposed to do?”

“Do what you want, Rosalie. It’s your decision.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“That’s not fair, Mark.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Then I’m not going to call.”

“I’m glad that’s settled.”

“I’m going to go to sleep and you’re going to be in Bible first period like you are every day. I don’t know what you’re doing, I don’t know why you told me this – but I am not going to play along.”

“Rosalie?”

“What?”

“Remember sixth grade?”

“Yeah.”

“Remember when we went to the cathedral? The one in the city.”

“Yeah, I remember. What about it?”

“I don’t know, I’ve just been thinking a lot about that trip. That was a really nice day. We took the bus and walked to the cathedral and we were partners, because we didn’t really know anyone else. Do you remember?”

“Mark, you’re freaking me out. Do you really have a gun?”

“Yeah, I really have a gun.”

“And you’re really going to...”

“Yeah, I’m really going to kill myself.”

“I don’t understand. Why are you telling me this? Do you want me to do something?”

“No. Just go to sleep, Rosalie.”

“Wait, Mark?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t do it, okay?”

“You would have called 911.”

“What?”

“You would have called 911, if you really believed that.”

“That’s not true, Mark.”

“Good night, Rosalie.”

            “Mark, that’s not true!”

“Good night, Rosalie.”

“I’m calling 911.”

“Good bye, Rosalie.”