CASEY SHOWERED AND DRESSED WITH A POUNDING HEART on Monday morning. As she brushed her hair, she avoided her eyes in the mirror. She was still worried about what her friends would think, after everything Paul had said about them.
Casey tried hard to gag down a buttered bagel, but she finally had to dump it in the garbage. She looked out the kitchen window as she slurped cold coffee, and her eyes enjoyed the show of red and gold in the woods. It was a blue fall morning, with a breath of white frost on the lawn. It made Casey feel almost serene.
But she kept remembering that she was engaged; engaged at seventeen like all those dumb Doras in school with teased hair and heavy perfume and tight pants. Casey recalled, as she jammed her arms into her jacket sleeves and slung her pocketbook over her shoulder, that she'd decided against marriage at least until the age of thirty. That was last year, after Mark Simon.
JoAnne was flushing the toilet upstairs as Casey wrenched open the front door and slammed it behind her. The fragrant chill of the morning woke up her cheeks and ruffled her hair as she hurried toward the bus stop on the corner.
For just an instant, her life flashed in front of her. She'd grown up in this house, ridden her Strawberry Shortcake bike up and down the cracked sidewalk, thrown snowballs at the Carters' house across the street, played with her toy stove on the oil-stained driveway. Even then, she remembered, her friends used to flat leave her. She spent a lot of time sitting at the redwood table in the backyard, making up stories.
Foolishly, the memories filled her with pain. She ran the last few yards, her heels clacking in the gutter.
Casey's bus rolled in along with two or three others, and she had to jostle and elbow her way into the building. She said perfunctory hellos to people she passed, and when she turned the corner to go to her locker, she saw Faye and Heather already there. Kids lined the corridor, twisting dials and kicking stuck doors. The scene reminded Casey of gamblers lined up at slot machines.
Faye looked at Casey as she bounced and caromed off bodies. Gangs of kids were already knotting up in the middle of the corridor. Girls shrieked as they saw each other. Guys bellowed. In all the movement, Faye remained still, her eyes curious.
"Hi," she said as Casey reached the locker. Casey, Faye, Heather, and Lillian had managed to get lockers near each other for three years running.
"Hi," Casey said. She leaned in toward the locker and twisted the dial. She kept her eyes on the putty-colored steel.
Heather was stuffing her blue coat into her locker, but turned now. "Casey," she said.
"Hi, Heather."
Faye said, "What happened to Paul?"
"Nothing," Casey said, as she yanked open the locker door. She still had the picture of Thomas Hardy Scotchtaped to the inside of the door. That was a big joke last year when they all had to read Jude the Obscure. They decided to make Tom Hardy their pinup boy.
"So how come you're early?"
"What's the big deal?" Casey said airily. She shrugged off her jacket and jammed it in. Library books were piled on the floor of the locker. She was supposed to be taking notes for her research paper, but she hadn't taken the books home yet.
"No big deal," Faye said. "We're just surprised."
"Oh, yeah?"
Faye's eyes narrowed. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," Casey said, and slammed the locker door. She pulled open the door of the top cubicle and slid out her copy of A Midsummer-Night's Dream, along with her battered English notebook and folder.
Heather had just shut her own locker. Hundreds of kids were streaming into the building, making the hallway roar. Casey kept her left hand more or less concealed behind her folder. Her stomach cramped in anticipation.
She realized that she didn't want to show the ring. As long as it was just her and Paul, alone, the dream shimmered. But she didn't know if the dream could survive being laughed at.
The warning bell hooted through the din. The floor rumbled as teachers pushed AV carts with TV sets and tape recorders. Fluorescent lights flickered on in classrooms. "Gotta hurry," Casey mumbled, as she shut the top door of her locker.
Faye said, "Whatever you say," and tried to read something in Casey's averted face. But Heather's eyes caught the furtive movements of Casey's hand. She followed the hand as Casey shut the top locker, and the dim corridor light glinted for an instant on the diamond chip of the ring.
"What's that?" Heather asked.
Casey's skin froze. "What?"
"Is that a diamond?"
Faye's eyes darted to the hand. "Diamond?"
Casey felt her whole body throb, like a heartbeat. She held her books now, so her ring was underneath.
"Did Paul give you that?" Faye asked.
Casey nodded. "Yesterday."
Faye gave Casey a level, frightened look. "Are you engaged to him?"
Casey nodded again.
Heather's eyes widened, and her mouth dropped. "Oh, my G-O-D-D-D!" she gasped. Her fingers fluttered to her mouth.
Kids turned around. Casey could feel warm blood rushing into her ears. Heather shoved Faye aside and threw her arms around Casey. Casey was still holding her books and she had to hang on tight.
Heather finally released Casey and just stood there, gaping. She clutched Casey's hand, forcing Casey to balance the books against her ribs. "It's gorgeous," Heather gushed. "I can't believe it. This is so awesome. I can't believe it."
"You said that," Faye pointed out.
Heather looked at Faye, to see if Faye also couldn't believe it. Tears glistened in Heather's round eyes. She looked back at Casey. "When did he ask you?"
"Yesterday," Casey said.
"And you said yes?"
Casey nodded.
"Oh, my God," Heather said again. "When are you getting married?"
"I don't know," Casey said. She tried to lower her voice because everybody was looking at them. Kids were now moving toward classrooms, and Casey felt herself causing a traffic jam.
Heather said, "This is so fantastic."
Faye caught Casey's eyes. "Do your folks know yet?"
Casey shook her head. "I'm scared to death to tell them. They're going to freak."
"Really." Faye shifted her own books against her chest, hugging them with both slender arms. "Are you sure,
Case?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Is he going to control himself?"
Casey smiled. "Yes. I know he's done crazy things, but you don't really know him."
"I hope you do."
"Don't worry about me." Casey took a deep breath, feeling suddenly flushed. "Will you come to my wedding?"
Faye looked sad and tired, as if she'd lost a race. "Sure."
"Don't hate me?"
This made Faye smile one of her secret smiles. "No. I couldn't compete."
"Huh?"
Faye shook her head. "Never mind. I was being stupid."
"So you'll come?"
"Yeah."
"You can bring Eddie."
Faye laughed. "I don't know if he'll be around. Long-range plans give me hives."
Casey felt like hugging Faye but since they were both lugging books, she couldn't. She turned to Heather. "You're coming, too, right?"
Heather looked as if she were about to cry. "Sure I'll come. Oh, man, I'll miss you, Casey."
"I'm not getting married next week," Casey said. Heather impulsively hugged Casey again, giving Casey a noseful of sexy perfume. Then Heather's eyes went wide as they looked beyond Casey. "Lillian!" she cried out.
"Oh, no," Casey said.
Casey spun and saw Lillian, with her head down, hurrying toward them. Lillian was chronically late for everything. "I can't believe it," Lillian said as she arrived at the lockers. "The car wouldn't start. I had to have my nextdoor neighbor jump-start me. Now I don't know if it'll start after school, and I have to be at the church by three."
"And that's the news for this morning," Faye intoned. "Now for the sports."
Lillian glared at Faye. "I'm not even supposed to be running around like this. I'm having nerve surgery in a week."
With a toss of her head, she started on her combination. Heather said, "Lillian, Casey is engaged to Paul."
Lillian looked up, angry that nobody had responded to her announcement. "Who?" she asked.
"Casey," Heather said. "She just got a ring. Isn't that outrageous?"
Lillian stared at Casey. "You're engaged to Paul?"
"Yeah," Casey said.
"Isn't he the one who hits you?"
Casey felt irrationally angry. "No."
Lillian shrugged, barely noticing the ring. "You're out of your mind. Boy, I have enough pain in my life to know that I don't want any more."
"You are a pain," Casey said.
"Well, excuse me," Lillian said. She reddened and forced her eyes to stay on her locker dial.
"Oh, Jesus," Faye said. "I've got one minute to get across the whole building. O'Connor is going to have my head."
"I'm sorry," Casey said.
Faye managed to free a hand to put on Casey's shoulder. "Good luck, Case. I hope you're happy."
Casey felt her throat tighten. "Thanks." She leaned in toward Faye and they shared a clumsy kiss.
Heather waited her turn and grabbed Casey again. "I think it's great," she said. "Everything's gonna work out."
"Thanks," Casey said hoarsely. She gritted her teeth to endure another Heather-hug.
Teachers were in doorways now, idly yelling out for the kids to move on. Couples remained against lockers, in desperate embraces. Casey watched a guy and his girlfriend. Their eyes were shut and their jaws worked like crazy. A teacher made a remark and they broke the kiss. The girl was chewing gum, and she didn't miss a beat. Casey shuddered. That was simple love. Swap spit against the lockers but never lose your gum.
Faye and Heather were gone; the hall was emptying. Lillian closed her locker and looked pityingly at Casey. "I'm sorry if I hurt you."
"It's okay," Casey said.
"I'll pray for both of you."
"Thanks."
Lillian gave Casey a tight "hang in there" smile, and then turned and shuffled back down the hall. The late bell rang, and there were curses and scuffiings. Casey stood by her locker, with her arm full of books, and felt bereft. Everybody had been so decent and still it hurt. She knew that they all thought she was insane. There'd been no joy in showing her ring.
Paul was right. They didn't matter and they didn't care. Casey let her anger come to a good, rolling boil as she swung off down the hallway and framed an excuse to give to Mr. Young.
That night, Mom made supper for the family. "It's been a long time since we had dinner together," she announced. Casey knew this would be her best shot at telling them.
She sat in her chair at the butcher block table and poked her fork into lettuce leaves wet with dressing. She shivered, even in her sweat shirt, as cold night wind snuck into the house. JoAnne stretched to grab a piece of garlic bread from a wicker basket.
"Don't do that," Dad said. "Ask for it."
"I already got it," JoAnne said, and gnawed off an end. Dad gave her a reproachful look. He sat at the head of the table, with his back to the bay window. He had on his good shirt and slacks and looked pretty neat, but Casey could see how tired he was.
Mom brought a bowl of spaghetti to the table and set it down on a trivet. "It's hot," she said.
Dad slopped spaghetti onto JoAnne's plate and then poured sauce for her. Casey kept looking down at her salad, and she felt her stomach cramp. She hated family dinners. Mom made this big deal about eating together and everybody wound up fighting.
Dad said, "Up for the big meet?"
"Huh?" Casey said.
"Northville."
Casey remembered. It was so strange; a couple of months ago, she had lived to run against Northville. She had kept imagining how the hurdles would feel, with her legs throbbing and pumping. She had envisioned herself sprinting to the finish line. But now, it seemed stupid.
"Yeah," she said. "That's this Thursday."
"Doing the four hundred?"
Casey didn't really know. She'd missed a few more practices, and she'd run way off her time in the meets. She didn't know if Mr. Young would use her. Suddenly, she felt guilty about that.
"Casey?" Dad said.
"Huh? Oh, sorry. Yeah, I guess so."
Dad sipped at his water. "Is something wrong?"
Mom had sat down now and was filling her own plate. "She's been in her own world lately."
Dad kept looking at Casey and ignored Mom. He did that when he didn't like what Mom had said. "Is there anything wrong at school?"
Casey shrugged. "No."
"Work piling up?"
"Kind of. The research paper is killing me."
JoAnne said, "Can I have more garlic bread?"
"That's three pieces," Mom said. "Eat some veal."
"It's too tough."
"It is not tough, it's tender."
"I want bread," JoAnne insisted.
Dad sighed and gave JoAnne more bread. Mom put down her fork. "Does my word mean anything around here?"
"Let her eat the bread," Dad said. "It'll shut her up."
Mom gave one of her sarcastic smiles and shook her head.
Casey's cheeks burned. "Could you two stop it? Just for a minute?"
Mom said, "What's your problem?"
"Nothing."
Dad said, "If it's the research paper, what you have to do is organize your time. Break it up into small tasks. I have a whole system I can show you."
A vise was squeezing Casey's ribs tighter and tighter. "It's not the research paper. It isn't anything."
"Don't bother asking her," Mom said. "I make one family dinner a week, and I don't want it spoiled by her sulking."
"Oh, right," Casey said. "My sulking. Little Queenie over there stuffing her face and whining doesn't bug you."
JoAnne made a taunting face. "Stuff it up your nose."
Casey banged a fist on the table. "Shut up!"
Dad raised his voice. "Casey, cut it out. She's eight and you're seventeen. You should know better."
Mom said, "The day she acts her age will be the day we can expect her to know better."
Casey felt like she was trapped in an airless cave where she couldn't move or breathe. "This place is a zoo."
"Casey, at the moment you're grounded for three months. It can be six months."
Casey said, "What about my whole life? Want to chain me in the basement?"
"Leave the table," Mom said.
Dad said, "Can we calm down here?"
"I want her away from this table. I am not eating until she leaves." Mom put down her fork with a bang and sat back, her arms crossed.
Dad was getting agitated. "Ellen, this is overreacting."
"Too bad. Get her out."
Casey felt the salad lurch in her stomach. She said, "I'll be happy to leave the table. But I thought before I went, you might want to know that Paul and I are engaged."
Damn. She'd said it spitefully, and at the worst time. Mom gave a little laugh. "Did he give you a ring?"
"Yes." With shaking fingers, she dug it out of her jeans pocket and put it on. She held out her hand.
Mom stared at the ring, then at Dad. "Is this serious?"
"Yes," Casey said.
"Excuse me," Mom said, in a cold voice. "This isn't possible. You've been forbidden even to see Paul VanHorn."
"Well, I've been seeing him anyway."
"When?"
"Different times." Inside, Casey churned. She suddenly felt reckless and immortal.
Mom looked at Dad. "Do you have something to say?"
JoAnne watched in fascination, chewing the crust of her garlic bread into a wet pulp. Dad stared at Casey, and Casey had to keep her eyes averted. She could look at Mom, but not at Dad.
"When did you become engaged?"
"Yesterday," Casey said. "We're going to get married after I graduate."
"After you graduate what?" Mom said. "College?"
"High school."
Mom took slow, deep breaths to calm herself. Then she said, "I see. You've come to the conclusion that you have been mistreated in this house and that you are going to do what you damned well please."
"Easy," Dad said.
"Shut up." Mom kept looking at Casey. "I went the route of the school psychologist. I tried grounding you. But you're going to be a real hellion, huh? Okay, missy, you opened fire on the wrong enemy. Number one, knock that stupid engagement idea out of your head. I will have any marriage annulled before you can blink. I will also have Paul VanHorn arrested for rape. And I will have you put away. You're going to learn one tough lesson."
Casey rocked back and forth in her seat, her fists clenched. "Stop it," she whispered.
"Where you even get the nerve ... " Mom stopped herself. "It's unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. If anybody had told me that a child of mine would turn out this way ... "
"That'll do it," Dad said.
Mom stopped talking and looked at him. "Ron, you'd better open your eyes and see what's happening."
He looked awful. There were blotches on his face and his eyes were glassy. "I see what's happening," he said. "Casey's gotten engaged."
Mom's eyes looked baffled. "What's your point?"
"No point," Dad said. "Except that there's not much we can do about it."
"I'll talk to you later," Mom said.
"You don't have to." Casey's heart paused, and she stared at Dad. He said, "You can annul a marriage until her next birthday, when she can marry anyone she wants. And if Casey doesn't think Paul hurt her, you can't arrest him. And sure as hell, I won't let my daughter be sent anywhere. So we're kind of stuck, aren't we?"
The kitchen seemed to tingle, and Casey could hear the buzz of the fluorescent light. Mom was shaking her head slowly. "Are you out of your mind?'
"No. I'm just tired. I've been getting angina pains again. I want the nonsense stopped."
"Then tell your daughter—"
"No." He shook his head to cut off her words. "I'm not telling her anything. I'm sick to my heart that she's done this. I'd like to find that piece of scum and run him over. I'm going to pray to God, every night of my life, that she gets away from him. But I'm through punishing her. As far as I'm concerned, she's not grounded, and she's not restricted, and she's not under guard. Whatever happens to Casey is her responsibility."
Casey shredded a napkin in her lap. She felt like a little girl having a bad dream.
Mom seemed to shrink in her chair. Unexpectedly, her eyes glistened and two wet streaks ran down her face. "She's throwing her life away," Mom said brokenly. "She's wasting it ... "
"I agree," Dad said. "But I'm tired of fighting her. We did our part. She's not ours anymore." He looked at Casey now, and she bowed her head. "Look at me, Casey."
She forced her head up, but his eyes uprooted her. He said, "Casey, I think this is the most boneheaded thing you've ever done. I think you're going to be so badly hurt that you'll be scarred for the rest of your life. But I can't figure out what makes you hate yourself. I hope you'll be happy with Paul. Maybe he'll straighten out."
Casey had to choke out her words. "Daddy, I want you to come to our wedding."
He looked so far away. "I don't know if I'll be able to do that. But it doesn't matter ."
"Yes, it does," she said, crying. "It does matter ."
"No. You matter, to me. But if you're going to cut off your parents and your friends and your own good brain, then you're going to be all alone. I hope Paul gives you everything you want and need. He's made you believe you don't need anybody else. He's made you believe it's okay for you to be abused. If you believe that, there's nothing I can say that will make any sense. That's fine. But don't ask me to come and watch you commit suicide."
Casey sobbed. JoAnne was sitting very tiny and quiet, clutching her crust of garlic bread.
Mom said, "So what are we doing, Ron?"
"Nothing," he said quietly. "Casey is engaged. She's begun her own life."
Casey felt the room spin. She pushed back her chair and stood up. Through hot, blurred eyes, she looked at her parents. "Paul and I will last forever," she said defiantly.
"And we'll do it by ourselves."
"I hope you do," Dad said. He cut and ate a piece of his veal, chewing with effort.
Casey tasted her tears and rubbed angrily at her cheeks. She turned and stormed out of the kitchen. Daddy's words burned deep, smoldering brands into her heart. But it was weird; he'd torn her to pieces and she felt so strong. Suddenly, other words lit up in her mind. Faye's words. Mr. Young's words. Glenn's words. She was confused and shaken, so she put on the loudest rock album she could find and threw herself onto her bed as the music hammered her skull.