Corner Girl Adrienne Colborne No one referred to it as Adelaides corner, though she was always there.

Shes there now, her book bag by her side, leaning against the wall, a book on her lap. Her looks are so common she fades into the background; brown hair, blue eyes, cream coloured skin. Shes tall, but not tall enough to be noticed. Her clothing is simple; not fashionable but not the subject of gossip either. She usually wears what people call pastel-coloured blouses or T-shirts and faded jeans. She wears a silver locket as her only jewellery. The flute case peeking out of her bag displays musicality; but then again, there are seventeen flautists at her school. She has earned the straight-A report card, but from the way she acts in class, (head down, never a hand-raise from her vicinity) most people would guess Cs. She has a soft, unassuming voice with a musical lilt. She is beautiful, but the kind of beauty that is easy to ignore and easier to forget. Adelaide; the only uniqueness anyone ever notices is her name. Theres no other Adelaides at the school. Thats how everyone remembers her. However, Adelaide is anything but lifeless, as unnoticed people are assumed to be. As she reads, someone who cares enough to watch will see her face express the emotions of the story. They would see her eyes sparkle, widen, narrow and fill with tears as the story changes. Sometimes she laughs; if you hear Adelaide laugh at a story, it is among the comedic masterpieces. It takes a lot to make her laugh these days. The caring observer would also see that, contrary to popular belief, she doesnt always read and do nothin else. Often she glances up from her book, as if to confirm what her ever-listening ears tell her. It is astounding to her exactly how many people choose to have private conversations in front of her, but then again, her presence is so constant that no one sees her. Now and then, Adelaide will rise; abandon the security of her corner, and go to comfort the victim of a high school mishap. She vanishes before they could thank her, even if they intended to. Someone who cares enough to watch would see all that, and seek her out to ask her why she does so much for others. But no one cares enough. After school, Adelaide stays in her corner until everyone is gone. Once she is alone, she closes her book and takes out her flute. She doesnt practice the mundane, classic-high-school-band music tucked away in her locker. Rather, she pours the days emotions into her mouthpiece and music enough to break your heart colours the air. Not one case of hurt, sorrow, joy, love, anger, betrayal, faith and friendship is forgotten or ignored. Unlike the lonely musician who, though she is the sweetest of sweet sixteens, has no friends and no partner. Adelaide plays until the days passion fades away. She then carefully puts away her only way of communication, and packs up her possessions and walks away. No trace of her presence remains, except the echoes of her lament for her fellow human beings. ****** When she reaches home, Adelaide does what has become a ritual-she touches the garden tools her mother left helter-skelter on the lawn. They havent been moved since the day before the doctor shook his head.

She goes inside, lays her report card on the kitchen table, then picks up her mothers killer; her two year old sister Susanna. Adelaide loves her little sister, but sometimes its hard not to hate her. Adelaide thanks the sitter, and then plays with Susanna until its time to set the table for supper. Just for two- Mr. Marsan doesnt eat with his daughters. Susanna lights up the evening by chattering about her day. Adelaide listens, the ghost of a smile playing across her face. She hasnt really smiled since she shared the fate of Pippi Longstockingan angel for a mother. After putting Susanna to bed, Adelaide makes up a plate of food for her dad, propping up her report card beside his traditional mug of coffee. She then goes up to her room. Theres a simple bed with a soft mattress; a crammed bookcase and a white desk with a chair. On the desk is a well worn chocolate-brown notebook. It is titled simply, Observations. Much as she wants to open the book, Adelaide conquers that temptation and opens her homework. She patiently works through the trivial problems concerning long division, chemistry, grammar and World War II. This done, she takes up her special pencil and opens her diary. This notebook would be a blackmailers dream. In its pages, Adelaide has written the complicated dramas of high school life; bad partners, bullying, cheating, substance abuse and above all, friendship issues. Every day, Adelaide adds more details to this list of sadness, stating what she did to fix the problem and writing suggestions to herself on how to ensure the problem doesnt recur. She also speculates about how to give her fellow students happy endings. For that is what Adelaide does. She is like a fairy godmother, only she grants the wishes most people are unconscious of, and indeed would not know how to ask for. Many couples owe their happiness to Adelaide, and many BFFs; and on the other side, victims of cruelty will find their tormentor punished without their saying a word to anyone. Or so theyd say; anyone does not include their true deliverer. But as someone wise once said, no great deed goes unpunished. Though Adelaide effectively keeps her school happy, she herself has no one to be happy with. The lonely girl has been sickened, sickened long ago by how cruel human souls can be. Because of this, she made a decision that causes the isolation which so contradicts her integral role in the students lives ****** The next day, there are pancakes for breakfast. Mr. Marsan is home in the mornings, so he is in charge of morning chores, today being the reward (however small) of Adelaides As. Mr. Marsan works from noon until midnight every day as a chef in a five star hotel. Two of those stars were won by his cooking. The hotel manager has offered several times to decrease his working hours, but Greg Marsan doesnt really want to be at home too long with his daughters. They remind him too much of his wife, his Claire. Even though mornings at home are quiet and a little awkward, (neither Greg nor Adelaide is very chatty) they are her last taste of serenity before a cacophony of emotions assaults her, so Adelaide lingers in her haven. At last, she takes her bag, kisses her sister (Bye, Addie) and her father (Bye, milady) and begins her walk.

At lunch, Adelaide sits quietly in her corner, half her mind on her book, the other half on the drama unfolding in front of her. You know what, Sara, the schools queen bee Denise sneers, I dont know why I even bothered considering you cool. Youre such a hopeless case, I cant believe Im even letting myself be seen speaking to you. B-but you said you were my friend, Sara-the new girl at school, who had fallen under Denises spell- mumbles. Oh puh-leeze, Denise sniffs. Im only friends with people who comport themselves properly and recognize my authority. Denises words, rather than crush her victim, make her stand taller. Sara straightens her back, tosses her head and narrows her eyes. Your AUTHORITY! she shouts, glaring at the now stunned Denise. Since when did you have authority over me, or anybody?! And you know what, Im glad I dont want to believe your lies anymore! Sticking up for someone girls like you love to torment is the right thing to do! And if doing right makes me uncool, then I want to be the biggest loser in school! Adelaide watches, in awe of how fast Saras words make Denise shrink, as Denise glares at Sara, and then flounces of to a waiting group of her loyal attendants. Sara stares after her for a minute, and then, as if her passionate speech weakened her, she sinks onto a bench and buries her face in her hands. Adelaide rises and goes to sit next to her. You did the right thing, you know. Sara lifts her face and stares at Adelaide. I do know that, she says softly. Its just Im new here. I have no friends. When Denise first started hanging out with me, I thought maybe things would be different this time. Different how? Adelaide whispers. She knew well that soft tones convince people to continue difficult stories better than normal speech or silence. Well, my family moves a lot. I know the new girl drill by heart. And every single school I go to, I attract the attention of the queen bees. I can never find real friends, because once I figure out the true colours of Her Majesty, she and her zombies make my life miserable. No one wants to be friends with someone who doesnt bow down to the head clique. I thought I knew better, could see the signs now Adelaide decides to give some advice. Denise is really sneaky. She has good qualities, which is how she makes friends, but she doesnt understand decency or why its wrong to want to dominate. Youre not to blame; every new girl gets fooled by her. Its the smart girls, the strong girls, which figure her out and escape. If youre looking for friends, join one of the clubs- the teams are always full- or maybe talk to Emily or Chloe. Their anti-clique is full of nice people. As Adelaide speaks, she is unaware of Saras interest in her, unconscious of the other girls appraisal. Sara looks at Adelaide with the practiced eye of someone who can see the true self of the object of their scrutiny. Sara speaks up. Those sound like good ideas. But what about you? Couldnt we be friends? Adelaide looks away, and then turns back. Sara gasps, taken aback by the look of pain in Adelaides eyes. Its the look of someone who wants something very much, but by their own rules cannot have it. There are few pains deeper than that. I dont have friends, Adelaide whispers. Im sorry-its not you, its really not you. Its just... she trails off, her misery choking her explanation.

Sara puts her hand on Adelaides shoulder, in a silent gesture of acceptance. Its okay. I can see theres something bothering you Any way, thanks for your help. The bell that is both prayed for and cursed by the student population rings. Adelaide flees to the safe anonymity of the crowds. Sara calls after her Hey! Whats your name? But Adelaide doesnt answer. Sara, disappointed, starts to get up, and then realises that Adelaide left her book behind. She picks it up carefully and runs off to an exercise in tedium, or Sociology, planning to find the mysterious girl later. But she doesnt. Adelaide, although often hidden by lack of interest, does know how to conceal herself purposely. She does so as Sara looks around, searching for her helper. At last, she abandons the search and goes to talk to Chloe. Adelaide breathes a sigh of relief- she dislikes hiding. That afternoon, Adelaide takes out her flute and plays, same as always. Today, however, something is different. For the first time, there is hope woven through the lament, because somebody had noticed her help. Somebody had said thank you. ****** Adelaide is sitting on Susannas bed, watching her sleep. She marvels at her self; how can someone who stole her mothers breath awaken such tenderness in her aching heart? Love, she answers herself, the feeling that can make a murderer an angel, a phantasmagoria a Da Vinci. Adelaide kisses her sisters and gets up, closing the door behind her. This is probably why Susanna never heard her scream. Unsure exactly how, Adelaide finds herself falling down the stairs- old rickety ones that curve painfully- and coming to a leg wrenching stop at the bottom. She lies there, confused by the frantic pounding of her heart. She does not understand how she can still be alive, after pain like that. After a couple of minutes in Hell, Adelaide forces herself to sit up. She only catches a glimpse of her leg-twisted beyond recognition- before her mind gives up and she falls back, limp. Thats how her father finds her, three hours later. For an awful second, he cant see her life; but it reveals itself in the slight rise and fall of her chest. He dials the number he hasnt had to for three years- 911. ****** Three Weeks Later Mr. Marsan opens the front door. There are five adolescents on his front step; two boys and three girls. They are, he can tell by looking, friendly and have good souls. One of the girls-obviously the leader-steps forward. Hi, are you Mr. Marsan? Her red hair blows in her face as she extends her hand. My names Chloe Diamante; this is my brother Matthew- a brown-haired boy nods his head-and my friends Emily-a short, green-eyed blonde-Joseph- a shy smile touches a black-haired boys lips- and Sara. Sara has blonde hair too, but her eyes are wolf silver and she matches Chloes height, who can look Mr. Marsan in the eye. Bewildered by the sudden influx of youth, it takes Mr. Marsan a minute to remember proper behaviour. Once he does, he invites the group in, aware of the curious tension that is suddenly in the air. They go into the living room- a sunny, cheerful room still untouched by the grief that reigns in the rest of the house. Everyone perches around the room. Greg sits down

nervously; the only teenager hes ever around is his daughter, who has not prepared him for the rest of the species. Chloe breaks the silence. Sohows Adelaide? Is she okay? Greg winces. Shes better, but she seems very depressed. She keeps saying the school will fall apart without me, and what? For all the kids had jumped in surprise. They glance at each other, and then Emily speaks up. Shes right. The entire school is miserable, has been for three weeks. No one knew why at first, but then we realised that Adelaides been gone that long. Chloe nods. People have been fighting and breaking up and everythings basically coming undone. We never realised how much she does-did. But we have now. She holds the school together. Yesterday, we had a grade meeting, and there wasnt one person who didnt have a story that involved Adelaide helping somehow. What was really sad was that it seemed that half the people didnt even realise it until after they told their story, that they owe their happiness to someone they barely notice. Youre probably wondering why were here, Joseph puts in. His ebony coloured hair is only slightly darker than his skin. The thing is, Mr. Marsan, we want to repay Adelaide-everyone does. But we dont know what she likes, or wants. It sounds horrible, I know-shes always there, and she helps us so much- Mr. Marsan raises his hand. Its not horrible to me, he whispers. Its just sad. Not your behaviour-you cant help it. Her decision, thats whats sad. My wife, my Claire died three years ago, giving birth to our daughter Susanna. Since then, Adelaide has been harder to know than ever. She was always very secretiveClaire called her a turtle-but now she barely speaks. What she does do, however, is write me a letter once a week. Im not breaking any promises by reading you this-theyre not confidential-but I would ask that you do nothing unkind to her because of this. Mr. Marsan pulls an envelope out of his pocket. He clears his throat and reads;
Dearest Dad, Im so glad I can write again; having to miss writing last week was the worst part of this wretched accident. To make up for it, Im going to answer the question you asked me today. It sort of caught me off guard; but Im ready to answer now. The reason I dont have any friends is simple. I dont want any. Well, thats not true; I would like friends, but not real ones. Thats confusing, I know, so Ill try to explain. Every day, I sit in the corner and watch the world of Middleview High. And the suffering I see is horrible, Dad, you couldnt believe how horrible people can be to each other. If I had a note for every time Ive seen betrayal and cruelty between friends I could sing a symphony. Ive done what I can for the victims, but I cant emphasize with them, and I never want to. I decided that long ago, back when Mom died. Ive hurt too much already; I dont want to suffer any unnecessary agony. Dont worry about me Daddy, Im alright. Ive got you and Suzy-Anna; I dont need anyone else. And I dont have to worry about whether my friends talk about me behind my back, or secretly hate me. But sometimes-sometimes I want to. I want to need friends, and to have the kind of friends I read about in books. There are a few kids at school who could be; theres this one girl named Sara whos a perfectly beautiful soul- but Im too scared of being hurt. This is why I dont have friends. As always, thanks for reading. Love Milady Adelaide

There is silence when Greg finishes reading, the kind of silence brought on by sadness and revelations. Chloe finally breaks the silence. Thats awful. Adelaide does so much for everyone- And its our fault she has no friends, Emily finishes. Greg shakes his head. No, it isnt any of your faults. In fact, the few times shes told me about schoolWell, lets just say Ive heard all your names before, and how highly she thinks of you. The group of friends looks around at each other again. Greg marvels at how each pair of eyes meets each of the others, everyone being included. Well, I guess we can figure out how to help Adelaide, Sara says. Its the first times shes spoken. Everyone turns to her. Slightly intimidated, she stutters, but continues. If Adelaide wants to have real friends, then why dont we tell her we want to be her friends? Youve all-she catches Matthews eye and blushes-been really nice to me, I know youd be good friends to her. Andwell, Adelaide told me to talk to you guys. I owe her my friends. Ill do everything I can to be true to her. Matthew smiles at her and Sara turns pinker. Sara-girl, thats perfect. And Adelaide sure seems like a sweet gal. Ill be her friend. Joseph nods. Shes always so sad looking-I-Id like to make her smile. She seems amazing, Emily murmurs. Id love to know her better. So would I, Chloe adds. I always wanted to talk to her again after she helped me Well, my point is that I wish Id said this a long time ago; Id like to be her friend. Greg holds up his hands. Listen, kids, Im glad that youre willing to be friends with Milady, but- Whos Milady? Emily asks. Greg blushes. Oh that- thats just what I call Adelaide sometimes. She used to love playing princess. Anyways, I want you to consider something, before you tell Adelaide any of this. My daughter knows how weak people can be, how easily tempted. And I mean just tempted to ignore, or to leave an argument hanging, or to simply miss a meeting. Shes like a baby in a sense; except that instead of thinking all the world is good until proven bad, she doesnt believe anyones strong unless she has evidence. Im not saying you arent, or that its reasonable for anyone to expect proof before the start of a relationship, but Adelaide isnt just anyone. Shes really scared, and she finds it hard to trust; I dont think you can blame her for that. My question to you five is can you convince her that you are strong enough? Theres another long silence. Sara breaks it. Yes, she says firmly. I can. Then Sara, you should speak to her first, Matthew says quietly. Sara shakes her head. I dont think I want to talk to her- at least not at first. I have a better idea ****** Adelaides back. Yo dude its Shy Girl! I wonder if shes okay. Adelaide smiles to herself as she limps across the grounds, clutching her bag of books. The comments of recognition touch her-she didnt think her absence would be noticed.

She is even more surprised by the state of her corner. Her alcove is decorated with a bravely misspelled Walcome Back Adelade sign and a bouquet of pretty flowers rests on a mountain of cards. A plate of shortbread, chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin cookies lie next to it, with a card attached. Adelaide carefully lowers herself to the ground. She buries her face in the flowers and then picks up the cards. She reads every one, even the ones with just Get Well Soon and the students name. Everyone in her grade has sent one, as well as several 10s and 12s. Several of them appear to have been forced, but there are some that are very genuine. I never said thank youyour absence has reminded me of what I owe you. I wish I could have had my leg broken, rather than a girl who deserves only the same kind of happiness she gives others. After Adelaide finishes reading, she leans over to pick up the plate of cookies. But as she does so, a shadow falls over her, and she looks into silvery eyes. Hi, Sara says. She meets Adelaides eyes; for the first time in ages, someone notices Adelaides eye colour; deep, summer-midnight-sky blue. These eyes are questioning her. Listen, I-uh-I meant to return this a while ago but, well Anyways, you dropped this, the last time we talked. She hands Adelaide the well worn book. I hope you dont mind, I read it. It was really good. Adelaide turns it over. Anne of Green Gables, she murmurs. Yes, I love the whole series. The fifth ones my favourite after this one. Well, maybe I should finish the series, Sra muses. I-Id better get going. Im glad youre back. She reaches over and rests her hand on Adelaides. The girls eyes meet again, and then Sara rises and leaves. Adelaide opens the book to where her favourite bookmark is still nestled-but something else is there. A small envelope, addressed to Adelaide Marsan. Trembling slightly, Adelaide carefully detaches the flap and draws out a folded sheet of paper.
Dear Adelaide, I dont think Ive ever fully introduced myself. My name is Sara Geas [gay-es]. Im sixteen (November) and Im an only child. Ive been to seven schools in eleven years, and I love books. And I owe you my happiness. Adelaide, Id given up on human goodness, that I would ever find a friend. Like I told you, I move a lot, and I havent had many real friends. But something I didnt tell you-the second I realized what Denise was, I decided that I wouldnt try again, ever, to have a friend. That promise lasted about twenty seconds after you spoke to me. You gave me advice, you pointed out a great group of people (the cookies are from them, B.T.W)-all to a complete stranger. You saved me. I dont know if you realized, but in the three weeks I was at school before your accident, I was watching you. I saw you quietly help over a dozen people, and be completely alone the rest of the time. Several times I asked people about you, but they couldnt remember your name; even the ones whom you helped! That impressed me, and made me feel ashamed. If you could put up with this treatment from people whod known you for years, and still care enough to help them, then surely I couldnt give up. Why? Because I found goodness in you, Adelaide. I found it you before Emily, Chloe, Joseph or Matt. For thee first time, Id met someone who Id only read abouta real friend.

While you were recovering, your dad read us the letter you wrote him in the hospital. Dont get mad at him-Im glad he did it. It helped me and the others to understand you. Adelaide I never would have guessed you would be afraid of humanity, you who help the more unfortunate members of it so often. But I can understand your reasons. If I had seen as much suffering as you have, I would be afraid to trust too. But I promise you this-I will be your friend. Ive been on the wrong side of friendships too, and I now they can hurt .So I wont hurt you Adelaide; I love you, like a sister, like a friend, too much to do that. Ill make you smile again, and Ill be there for you every time you need me, just like you were for me. So I guess, my question is, is will you be my friend? Love, Sara

Adelaide sits quietly for a long time, reading the letter over and over again, like a wrongfully convicted reading their pardon, to check that theyre free. Finally she walks over to where Sara is reading. She looks up, startled, and blushes when she sees Adelaide. Adelaide sits down beside Sara. You know, I should have written this to you butIm like Camus. I dont need to be led or to lead- I just want a friend. Really? Sara whispers. Adelaide smiles. Its remarkable, the change that makes in her face. Not smiling for nearly three years has left shadows on her face. Now the shadows are illuminated, and everyone who even glances over realises exactly how beautiful she is. Yes she says firmly. Me too, and the girls embrace. They stay that way until they realize people are coming closer. The schools anti-clique has come over. Emily is carrying the plate of cookies. We didnt know what kind you liked, Joseph explains, So we made three. Adelaide smiles Theyre my favourite kinds. She opens the card attached, and reads the messages inside. Adelaide, youre amazing. I wish I were as wonderful as you. Emily I hope that I can be as good a friend to you as you deserve. Joseph
I want you to know- I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your help. Now, please, let me help you Chloe

You Rock Adelaide! It would be cool to be friends! Matthew Adelaide looks up at the circle of affectionate, expectant faces around her. She takes a deep breath. This is an enormous leap of faith for her. Its time, she tells herself. Its time to accept the past, and trust the future. She holds out her arms. My friends, she says gently. Somehow, everyone winds up in the embrace. When they pull away, Chloe wipes her eyes. Alright, who wants cookies? Everyone laughs. ****** After school, Adelaide lags behind as her friends wait near the gate. She takes out her flute. Their eyes fill with tears as the sound of Adelaides pure joy fills the air and colours the school yard hopeful and trusting-very beautiful colours indeed. And for once, when Adelaide stops playing, the colours dont fade. They still shine in her face as she walks away from the corner, and into a new, happier life. The End