By October, however, the pattern had developed enough that she started recognizing recurring themes. Sadie rarely insulted her directly. Instead, she treated Kendra’s choices as evidence of a larger personality she had already decided existed.
If Kendra disagreed during meetings, Sadie called her intense. If she asked a follow-up question, Sadie said she liked making things complicated. If she stayed quiet, Sadie told others Kendra was judging everyone.
One afternoon the committee discussed whether students participating in a charity walk should pay a twenty-dollar registration fee. Kendra suggested an optional fee because some Brookstone families might not have money for school fundraisers every month. Sadie said twenty dollars was less than most students spent eating out.
Kendra answered, “Most isn’t all.”
Sadie exhaled loudly. “You always have to make everything about people who can’t afford something.”
Kendra stared at her. “The event is supposed to be inclusive.”
“It is inclusive.”
“Then why make payment mandatory?”
Sadie crossed her arms. “This is what I mean.”
“What do you mean?”
“You come at everything like somebody is being mistreated.”
Teacher adviser Mr. Harold Dean interrupted before the exchange became longer. He agreed with optional registration and moved the meeting forward.
Afterward, Sadie told Emily that Kendra had “such an attitude whenever money comes up.” Emily asked whether Kendra had actually said anything rude. Sadie replied that it was not always the words; it was the way Kendra said them.
Emily would later remember that answer.
The registration remained optional. The event raised more money than expected.
Nobody’s life was ruined by Kendra’s suggestion.
Sadie still treated the disagreement as evidence.
The next incident involved Kendra’s car—or rather, the fact that she did not have one. Brookstone seniors could purchase parking permits for one hundred eighty dollars a year. Kendra had a driver’s license but usually borrowed Tonya’s older Honda on weekends and took the school bus during the week because her parents needed both family cars for work.
Sadie noticed Kendra waiting near the bus loop one afternoon. “You still ride the bus?”
“Yes.”
“Senior year?”
Kendra looked around at approximately two hundred other seniors waiting for buses. “Apparently.”
Sadie laughed. “No, I just assumed you drove.”
“I don’t have a car.”
“Oh.”
The single syllable carried enough meaning that Kendra noticed.
Sadie recovered quickly. “Honestly, smart. Cars are expensive.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re probably saving for college anyway.”
