Ada Creighton

One

Ada Creighton, a senior at Ridgeview High School in Seattle, pressed the unlock button on her car remote. The quiet ‘click’ of the doors of her silver SUV unlocking sounded as she traversed the school’s busy parking lot, nearing her car. Upon reaching the passenger door, she carelessly tossed her backpack into the seat, shutting the door. It was heavier than normal, filled with the remnants of the year’s school supplies and leftover papers. The seat sagged at the immense weight.

Today was Ada’s final day of high school. Excluding seniors, all students had a week or two left of school. Her locker was empty, she’d returned her books, and she was officially finished. Sliding into the driver’s seat, she turned the key and started the car. Just as she put the vehicle into drive, she realized the absence of something very vital to her life: a brown leather messenger bag, which contained her laptop. “Damnit…” She sighed loudly, yanking out the key and heading back inside the building.

Upon reaching room 405, the room of her Musical Diversity & Appreciation class, she poked her head inside, glancing towards the teacher’s desk in the corner of the white-walled room. Behind that desk was her favorite high school teacher, scribbling away at a large stack of paperwork. “Mr. Burnette?” she asked quietly, making herself known. Glancing up from his work, a small smile crossed the teacher’s lips. “Oh. Hi Ada.” He motioned her in, and she took a few steps inside, peering around the classroom. “Did I leave my—“ She was interrupted by Mr. Burnette’s immediate response. “Yeah, it’s over there,” he replied, motioning to the bag that sagged against one of the walls. It was obvious he’d been expecting her. He knew her better than any other teacher, and because of this, he knew just how important that bag was to her. “Thanks,” she said, lugging it over her shoulder and letting it hang at her hip. “Are you by chance going to graduation this Saturday?” It was Wednesday, and Ada only had a few days until she graduated. “Yeah. Teachers are required to go,” he said with a nod, tapping the tip of his pen against his metal desk. “Cool, I’ll see you there,” she said, heading for the door. She was ready to get home, and it was obvious. “Alright. Bye, Ada.”

Ada had a good twenty-minute drive to school. Fifteen on her way home, normally. At the end of the day, she was anxious to get home, so it’s possible she drove a bit faster than normal. Traffic was occasionally an issue, since she lived in a 17th floor apartment in the middle of Seattle, with her mom. Ada occasionally thought of living in a smaller, suburban home in the outskirts of Seattle, but she truly liked the city life.

As she pulled into her regular parking spot in the parking garage next to her apartment building, she let out a sigh, one of relief. It was good to be home. Even better, considering the fact that she’d really only have to go back to that school one more time: to graduate. Throwing on her backpack and messenger bag, she groaned. It was a lot of weight, and she still had to round the building to the front door. On her way, she stumbled slightly, stabilizing herself against a light post. Definitely a fight, all the way to the finish. Through the pristine glass revolving doors and into the elevator, Ada prodded at the button labeled “17”, and began her ascent.

Ada entered through the front door of the apartment, and was greeted by her overly-excited mother. Her mother squealed with excitement, running up to her and throwing her arms around Ada tightly. “Hi, honey! How was your day?” Ada tensed, feeling herself toppling due to the immense weight of her baggage. Her mom unwrapped her arms, stepping back, and Ada shrugged off her backpack. It came crashing to the wooden floor as she brushed a strand of golden-brown hair out of her eyes. “It was fine, Mom,” she said tiredly. “Just glad to be home.” Her tone was a bit apathetic, but this didn't seem to phase her mother’s excitement. “You?” she asked in reply, walking to the living room and placing her bag on the coffee table in front of the couch. She flopped tiredly onto the couch. The apartment was filled with comfortable and lavish furniture. “Good! I talked to Susan Parsons today. Remember her? The woman that used to babysit you when I had extra shifts at work?” Her mom turned and headed into the open kitchen, continuing on about her friend finally having her baby. Ada sat up, grabbing her bag and heading down the hallway and into her bedroom. She closed the door behind her.

Ada was the ideal introvert. Every day, she went directly home, dodging a conversation with her mom and retreating to her room, dealing with her homework initially. Her mom occasionally came for a “visit”, but very rarely said anything too important. Tonight was no exception. Of course, she had no homework to do. So, Ada immediately pulled out her laptop from her bag, placed it on the desk, sliding into her chair and turned it on.

She respected Mr. Burnette. She nearly exalted him. He’d introduced her to music; sure, she’d heard it as a kid, but lacked the ability to really appreciate it and develop a taste of her own. Mr. Burnette helped her in recognizing what made a song great, and to appreciate the many components that made up a truly great song. Because of this, Ada had found a niche in music editing and remixing – smashing two compatible songs together, aimed at using both song’s strong-points to compliment the other’s. That is why she respected Mr. Burnette so much.

So, tonight, she founded herself starting a mashup of Maroon 5 “Moves Like Jagger” and the ever-famous “Gangnam Style”. The idea had been bouncing around her head all day, and she was anxious to work with it. The art was definitely a frustrating one – matching tempos was difficult, and creating something totally original while preserving the integrity of the original songs was a task that shouldn’t be taken lightly.

Ada’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier with the passing hours. She’d been so occupied with her work that she’d forgotten dinner completely, despite the fact that her mom had popped in multiple times to remind her. She ignored her completely.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered upon, crusty and groggy from what seemed to be a short nap. She squinted, blinded by the bright light that was shining through the gaping window in her room… Wait, light? “Wh- ..really?” she murmured. She fisted her hands, rubbing her eyes and sitting up. A few fingers lifted to her cheek, prodding at the soft flesh. Ada could easily feel the imprint of her keyboard printed across her left cheek. Perplexed, she tried standing, nearly yanking her laptop off of the desk – she’d left her headphones in her ears. Yanking them out, she groggily stood from her chair, slowly stepping towards the window. Morning. She’d passed out at her desk and slept the night away. The digital alarm clock on her nightstand said 9:31a.m. She sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. Her blurry vision caused her to glare furiously at the window, trying to focus on whatever she could. The view held the multiple skyscrapers that surrounded her apartment building, and a spectacular view of the Space Needle. That sight never grew old to her.

Thursday dragged on monotonously. Ada spent most of her time at home, while her mom spent her day at the office of her workplace. She was the PR Director of some pharmaceutical company Ada had never heard of before. She didn’t really find any interest in asking about any greater details. She spent countless hours on her laptop that day, taking only the occasional break to go eat. She’d return immediately to her room after finishing. She encountered her mom a few times after she got home, but managed to avoid any lengthy conversations.

Friday morning, around 11a.m., while laying in bed, wrapped in her Egyptian silk sheets, Ada’s cellphone began to vibrate violently against her wooden nightstand. She sighed loudly, assuming it was her mom calling to ask her to run an errand. Reluctantly rolling over and grabbing her phone, she glanced at the caller-ID. Sierra. She smiled, gladly bringing the phone to her ear.

“Hey,” Ada said pleasantly. “What’s up?”

“Mom got a ride to work because the car broke down. I’m stuck at home.” The following sentence was more than just an idea; it was incredibly, yet subtly hopeful. “Feel like doing something?” Ada grinned, and her over-the-phone tone supported it.

“Well, you’re obviously interrupting my extremely busy life,” he said, her words dripping with sarcasm.

“Shut up,” Sierra replied with a bit of a laugh.

“I’ll be over in a while.” Ada hung up.



If it were anyone else, Sierra would have given a specific time when she’d be over. Furthermore, she would've spent much longer on her appearance before heading out. But she’d known Sierra for what seemed to be an eternity – 13 years and counting – and found no reason to make an occasion out of it. She had nothing to prove, and neither did Sierra. They’d seen each other at their best, and at their worst, so very rarely did one of them surprise the other. Good enough, she thought to herself as she found herself in the elevator of her apartment building, dressed in a raggy t-shirt and sweatpants.



Ada had a decent drive to Sierra’s place. 25 minutes, if she made good time. This often left her with more than enough time for her mind to wander into random subjects that hadn’t previously occurred to her. This one in particular – the difference between the lifestyles of herself and Sierra – had come to her attention before, but she didn’t put much thought into it. She hadn’t really dissected the idea, as she was only in grade school when it first occurred to her. Ada led a charmed life, one of plush apartments, flashy cars and the latest technology. This, of course, was thanks to her mom’s career success. There’s something to be said about living in a high-rise apartment in the heart of Seattle. Sierra, however, wasn’t so privileged. She was an only child, and lived with her mom – her dad left at a young age, which was something her and Ada had in common – in a low-income trailer park in the outskirts of Seattle. The family had only one car, and an unreliable one at that. Ada often wondered who two people of what seemed to be complete opposite lifestyles could get along so well. It confused her to this day, but Ada found no real reason to question it. She thought it to be a lot like fixing something that wasn’t broken: leave it be.



Pulling into a sad-looking trailer park, she passed a large, faded sign that was surrounded by heavily untended shrubs. Sunshine Trailer Community. She laughed mentally at the irony, but began to feel guilty, pushing those feelings aside. Ada slowly rolled past trailer after rickety-trailer until reaching trailer 734: Sierra’s. It was in considerably worse shape than those around it; the awning above the elevated front door sagged badly, looking as though it’d collapse soon. Warped wooden stairs led up to the front door, which was made of only flimsy metal. It could easily be broken into, if anyone had the intentions of doing so.



Ada didn’t bother to knock. She just walked right in, as was custom between her and Sierra. Sierra’s mother had assured her that she was welcome in their home at any time, so she truly took that to heart, and took full advantage of it. The door slammed behind her, and she curiously glanced around the empty trailer. “One second,” called out a voice from a room down the hall. The door was closed. “Alright,” she replied, heading into the small kitchen and pulling herself up onto the counter, sitting there. She occupied her mind simply by glancing around. She knew the place quite well; she’d been there countless times. Still, the place was cluttered with do-dads and small decorative fixtures, hanging from the walls and mounted atop the cabinets. It was a little overwhelming, and resembled just slightly the home of a hoarder. No matter how often she’d been here, the cat-shaped clock on the wall, with its tail swinging in time and its beady eyes shifting back and forth always bothered her.



Eventually, Sierra emerged from behind the closed door, her hair soaking wet. She’d obviously been in the shower when she got here. “Hey,” Sierra said, drying her hair with a towel in one hand while staring at her cell phone in the other hand. Ada quickly slid off the counter. “What’s up?” Ada asked. Sierra tossed her phone onto the counter, searching the kitchen cabinets for something to eat. “We’re not spending all day here, are we?” she asked. “We could go somewhere else.” Ada shrugged, leaning back against the oven. “Sure. I’ve got my car.” He cocked her head towards the kitchen window. Her car was in plain sight. “Cool. I didn’t feel like making anything, anyway. Just give me a sec, I think I have some cash in my room.” Sierra headed down the hallway to her room, and Ada followed. Passing through the doorway, Sierra’s room resembled Ada’s greatly, even if only in a single way: it was an absolute wreck. Wrinkled clothes and blankets covered the floor, magazines and cups were scattered among the multiple tables in the room. “Do you even have a floor?” Ada asked sarcastically. “Hey now, I’ve seen your room, too. You have no room to talk,” Sierra replied cooly, with a bit of a laugh. “Let’s just go,” she said, scraping up as much cash as she could find.



They later found themselves at a nearby Starbucks, sipping at coffee and snacking on pastries. It had started raining while they were in line to order, so they chose a table near one of the windows. “Ready for tomorrow?” Ada asked, taking a seat and blowing cool breath into her coffee. Sierra shrugged. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” She took a large bite of her pastry. She held her hand over her mouth, speaking with a mouthful of food. “Ready to get it over with. Honestly, I’m not all that excited for it.” She swallowed loudly. “Should I be?” Ada shrugged, sipping at her coffee. She winced a bit – it hadn’t cooled yet. “I mean, it is graduation. Should be a bit excited. Can’t say I’m all that pumped for it either.” There was a growing silence, and they both mentally agreed that they’d exhausted the topic enough. Neither of them really had any interest in it, and it showed.



“You said some guy brought your mom to work today?” Ada asked, breaking the silence. She stared out into the gloomy landscape of the city. “Yeah. Some guy named Jeremy. Works at the factory,” Sierra said, forcefully and unsuccessfully suppressing a smile. “…Anything you wanna tell me, Cici?” Ada asked with an optimistic tone. She understood how difficult it is to lack a father figure. “I dunno. Mom brought him home last week after work. Kinda caught me off guard,” Sierra said. Ada stared at her, blatantly. Sierra’s smile slowly faded, her expression melting. Who was she kidding? “Alright, alright!” she said, giving in. “Maybe there’s something there. I’m just not getting my hopes up yet. You know how it is.” Ada nodded, gulping down her coffee. “You never know. Maybe he’s the one,” she said with a nonchalant roll of the eyes. “A guy from work?” Sierra said, obviously unconvinced. “How would that work?” Ada lowered her cup, grinning. “It’s been done before.” Sierra narrowed her eyes, mirroring her grin. “I think you’re more excited about it than I am.”



Their time there felt like it passed extremely slow. In reality, it was quite the contrary. The already dreary Seattle sky began to dim with the descent of the sun behind the overcast. Both of them had mostly run out of things to say. “I should get back,” Sierra said. She glanced at her phone. Seven. “Alright,” Ada said. They collected their trash, threw it away, and headed out the door.



The drive back to Sierra’s place consisted of at least a ten minute trip along 490 highway. Small-talk filled the silence during the drive, until Sierra spotted a large, black column of smoke rising from the trees, a few miles away from them. “Wow,” she said with obvious surprise. She motioned to it. “Holy shit,” Ada said, taking only a few glances towards it. She was driving, after all. Taking exit 71, she turned onto the four-lane road, traveling in the direction of Sierra’s place. The sky slowly began to be engulfed by an overcast of trees – Sierra lived in a heavily wooded area.



The faint sound of sirens slowly grew louder and louder. Three fire trucks came screaming past them, taking a risky right turn down the nearest street. They roared past a sign saying “Sunshine Trailer Community”. The two watched the engines in silence, afraid to say anything. Ada, too, took that right, heading down the gravel road on which Sierra lived. They were coming dangerously close to the massive column of pitch-black smoke. A line of two police cars blocked them from traveling any further. Coming to a stop, they were allowed a perfect view of the source of the smoke: Sierra’s trailer, which was engulfed in flames. Their silence remained, until Sierra shrieked loudly, getting out of the car and slamming the door. She tore past the two police cars, but was quickly grabbed by two bulky officers who were obviously given the orders to prevent anyone from traveling further. Sierra flailed and resisted, to no avail.



Ada was frozen. Thoughts and possibilities bounced throughout her mind. Her eyes were wide, her jaw hung, and she shook her head frantically. How could this have happened? She continued to stare through her windshield, watching as flames rose from the windows, which had been shattered. The oven. She’d leaned against the oven while she was inside. Her heart sank at her realization, and she felt a dreadful wave of guilt overtake her very being. She forced herself out of the car, slowly walking towards the incinerating remains of Sierra’s trailer. She felt incredibly faint. How was she going to explain this to Mom? Or more importantly, Sierra and her mom?