Casey
“Much as I’d love to be a gentleman…” It’s dark when Lawson pulls up alongside the brick entrance to Sandover’s campus. “I’m letting you off here instead of your house.”
“Don’t even feel bad about it. If my dad didn’t try to have you arrested for kidnapping, Sloane would douse you in gasoline and light a match,” I reply, unbuckling my seat belt and throwing the door open before he’s come to a full stop.
“Then this is where I leave you, fellow rebel.”
“Hey, out of curiosity. What do you plan to do about the car?”
“Oh, this?” He glides his hands appreciatively over the leather steering wheel. “Probably leave it in a handicap parking space in town. Asshole who owns it had it coming.”
I fight a laugh. “Well, good luck with that.”
I grab my backpack from the floor of the passenger seat, then hop out of the Porsche and hurry off in a dead sprint across campus and back home.
I’m somewhat relieved to see the front yard isn’t crowded with patrol cars, but every light in the house is on and the tension emanating from inside is palpable as I approach. I take the walk up the driveway slow, so I can catch my breath, but there’s nothing I can do about how sweaty I am from that run.
Just before I go inside, I shut off my phone.
“Hey, I’m home,” I call with what I hope sounds like nonchalance. “Sorry I’m late.”
Before I even get the door shut behind me, Dad charges into the foyer. Sloane pounces from the kitchen. They’re on me and shouting incoherently over each other, absolutely bombarded by panic and anger.
“Where have you been all night?”
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“I’ve been trying you for hours.”
“Whoa. What’s going on?” I feign surprise as I kick off my shoes. “I didn’t realize my phone died.”
Sloane snorts. “Bullshit. Let me see it.”
“Why didn’t you come home with Sloane after school?” Dad interjects. His face is red and practically throbbing, deep ridges carved into his brow.
“Jazmine asked if I wanted to hang out and do homework together. So we went to her dorm instead. Studied, watched a couple movies. Then she dropped me home and now here I am. Not sure what the big deal is—I told Sloane.”
They both stay right on my heels when I go to the kitchen to chug a glass of water and pour another. From the looks of things, they started making dinner—veggies chopped and a pot of water on to boil—but must have aborted when I didn’t show up.
“Bullshit,” my sister says again. “You told me Jazmine was giving you a ride home, not that you were chilling at her dorm.”
“Oh my God. The plans changed. I don’t need your permission to make friends.”
“That’s enough attitude,” Dad snaps.
“Since when am I getting interrogated for being late for dinner?” Anger heats my cheeks. Sloane gets to sneak around all over town while Dad barely notices. I come home late one time and it’s like a jailbreak from Alcatraz.
“This is serious, Casey!” Dad shouts in a decibel I haven’t heard in years. “I can’t believe you’d be so thoughtless and irresponsible.”
“I’m seventeen!”
“That doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want.”
Something in his inflection, or maybe this whole week, sets me off and I can’t hold it in. “Everyone else I know gets to have a life, Dad. What about me? When do I get to be normal? I’m not a child anymore.”
He huffs at the questions, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You can’t simply decide whenever you feel like it to stay out all night and not tell anyone where you are.”
“All night? It’s nine the fuck o’clock.”
“Language!”
“Sorry. But come on, it’s not even that late. And we were in the dormitory of an all-girls Catholic school.” I frown at him. “Am I not allowed to have any friends? Is that it?”
“That’s not what I said.” He crosses his arms tight to his chest. “Curfew is dinnertime on weeknights. You know that. If there’s going to be an exception, your friends can come here and introduce themselves. Or your sister will be with you.”
“Wait,” Sloane objects darkly. “Why am I getting dragged into this?”
“This is so unfair. You can’t keep me locked up in this house. I’m not your prisoner.” I drop my glass in the sink, then stalk to the fridge to get the kitten milk. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to feed Silver.”
I storm up to my room and slam the door shut, then throw my backpack in the corner and turn my phone back on. Sloane, of course, has no respect for boundaries and comes barging in because she’s the only one in this house with any right to privacy.
Ignoring her, I peek into the shoebox. The moment a sliver of light penetrates the darkness, Silver squeaks and shifts on the soft pink towel I’m using for her bed. Relief flutters through me, escaping in the form of a shaky breath.
“She still alive?” Sloane asks.
“Yes.”
I close the box and set it down while I prepare the milk syringe and gather a few cotton balls from the plastic container on my desk.
“I know you’re lying,” she accuses.
“Why would I lie about that? She’s alive. See for yourself.”
“Not about that.” My sister takes a combative stance against my bookshelf. Arms crossed and head cocked. “You weren’t out with some new friend. Who was it?”
“Duke.”
Her eyes all but pop out of her skull as her mouth falls open.
But I can’t keep a straight face and crack immediately. “Jesus, relax. Of course it wasn’t Duke. I just had to see your face.”
Her shock turns to frustration. “I’m serious, Case. You know I’ll find out. Don’t make me CSI this shit.”
“Calm down. Lawson and I—”
“Lawson? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“We took a drive through the country. Got ice cream. Nothing scandalous.” Well, except for the stolen Porsche, but technically that happened before he picked me up.
“I thought you were smarter than this.”
“Please. I can handle Lawson.” I can’t help but roll my eyes, which gets Sloane gritting her teeth.
“Seriously. Stay away from that guy,” she orders, getting in my face. “You don’t know him. Whatever he’s said to you, I promise there’s nothing good about his intentions. He’s toxic and only ever looking for trouble.”
Yeah? Maybe a little trouble is what I’m after, did she ever think of that? It’s not like playing the good sister has spared me more than my share of misfortune.
Aloud, my tone takes on a defiant note. “Do you even know why you think that about him? Like, do you actually know anything about him? Ever had a real conversation with him? Because I have. And he was perfectly nice to me. In fact, he’s the first person in a long time who let me feel like a human being and not a piece of porcelain.”
Sloane sighs before lowering her voice. “Trust me. There are some things you don’t understand—”
“Right, yeah. This again. I’m too stupid and naive, right? But you know what? I’m not convinced that’s true—it feels like just a thing you and Dad and Fenn tell me to keep me in this bizarre emotional cage. Because God forbid I should wander outside your arbitrary boundaries to experience anything for myself.”
She flinches. “It’s not like that. You know it isn’t. I’m looking out for you.”
“Okay, well, do me a favor and don’t. I can make my own decisions from now on.” I clench my jaw. “Consider yourself relieved of duty.”
“Fine.” Sloane throws up her hands. “Have fun with that. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Yeah. Whatever. Bye.”
I practically shove her out of my room and lock the door. Sloane’s always felt this self-imposed compulsion to mother me, which for a while now has felt more like smothering.
Tonight, for maybe the first time, I can breathe. Lawson gave me that.
I settle on the bed and take Silver out to feed her. With her tiny, hairless body and no visible eyes or ears, she looks more like an alien creature from a sci-fi movie. And yet I’m already in love with her. According to Dad, I got my obsession for animals from my mom. Apparently, on one of their dates early in their relationship, Mom found a stray kitten on her way to the restaurant, and rather than ignore it, she scooped up the half-starved, mangy thing, tucked it in her purse, and kept the date. Dad finally suspected something when her purse kept meowing over dinner.
“You loved that cat,” I say softly, talking out loud to Mom. “Dad said you cried for days after he ran away. I wish I’d gotten to meet him.”
Silver makes a squeaking noise as she finishes eating. I stimulate her button to release her urine and stool, which is yellowy-green. Supposedly that means healthy. Afterward, I gently pinch her neck to check for dehydration and examine her body to make sure no inch of skin is blue or shriveled. Once I’m satisfied she looks okay, I tuck her back in her warm, cozy nest and close the box. She squeaks a few more times before going quiet.
God, I want her to survive. I know it’s unlikely. Or at least, my head knows that. But my heart desperately wants Silver to live.
On my nightstand, my phone buzzes and I sigh when I see Fenn’s name.
Obviously, I should ignore him. Or turn my phone off again until he’s given up. Except if Sloane doesn’t bother to give Fenn the all-clear, he’ll show up at my window in the middle of the night demanding answers. Or worse, the front door. And tonight I’d just prefer some decent sleep.
I answer the call with a curt, “What do you want, Fenn?”
“Casey, what the fuck?” There’s a short pause. “I wasn’t expecting you to answer.”
“Well, I’m here. What do you want?” I repeat.
“Sloane called me hours ago demanding to know what I’d done with you. Like I’d dumped your body in a ditch.”
We’re both quiet a moment while he considers his unfortunate choice of words.
“I’ve been all over town looking for you,” he says, sounding frustrated.
“Yeah, I saw your messages. But I’m home now, so call off the dogs.”
“That’s it? You’re not going to acknowledge how terrified we all were? Sloane had to be fully out of her mind to call asking me for help.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say. It was a lot of freaking out over nothing.”
“We were worried about you.” His voice becomes low. Husky. “I was worried.”
“So now you feel like I owe you something?” I laugh sharply. “I’m supposed to do some penance or whatever because you were worried?”
“What? No,” he mutters. “I’m just saying. You could have called somebody back. Shit. Your family was an inch from letting loose helicopters and search parties. After everything you’ve all been through—”
“Oh, okay, great. Tell me more about my family’s personal traumas. In fact, if there’s more on the subject you’d like to illuminate, I’m listening.”
It’s like he was born with his foot in his mouth.
“I’m sorry. That’s not what… I’m just saying…” He trails off with a strangled expletive. “I was worried. That’s all.”
“This is your last reminder, Fenn—I’m not yours to worry about anymore. Leave me alone.”
I end the call and throw my phone on the bed. Then I clench my fists and strain my neck, silently shouting into the open void of the ether until my jaw hurts and my whole body burns.
Why did it have to be him?
Any idiot could have wandered by the boathouse that night. Anyone could have slipped away from the dance to drink or get high. A couple sneaking off to get all hot and sweaty. Anyone else but Fenn.
My mind suddenly flashes with a thought that’s taunted me since I learned the truth, the one that gets louder every time I hear from him now.
That I’d almost rather he never found me. That I’d just been left alone in that car, sinking for an eternity until the red glow dimmed. Because anything would be better than feeling this way. Love and hatred are bound so tight together inside me, I don’t think I know the difference anymore.
My phone buzzes again. And while I know I shouldn’t look at it—Fenn can only do more harm than good—I can’t resist the impulse to pick it up.
Lawson: Good night, bad girl. Let’s do it again sometime.