Casey
On Friday night, a text from Jazmine sideswipes me into an anxiety spiral.
Jazmine: Ballard party at the lake. I’ll pick you up.
My first instinct is to say no. I haven’t been back there since prom night, and just seeing those words—at the lake—triggers a physical response in my body. Dry mouth and numb fingers. Dizziness and shortness of breath. Flickers and flashes of cold, wet darkness creeping up my legs grab hold of my throat and strangle me.
I should say no. Stay as far away as possible from that murderous body of water.
Then another voice tells me that’s the fragile Casey talking. The wilting flower. The delicate princess of porcelain and air. What happened to disruption? What happened to taking back my autonomy and becoming unflinchingly, unforgivably present?
But there’s more to it than that. Another motive that fills me with courage to face my Ballard demons. I won’t give my father the satisfaction of telling him he was right, but…
He was right.
The session with Dr. Anthony was exactly what I needed. Not because I’m on the verge of a breakdown—but because I’m in desperate need of a breakthrough.
I need to remember. I can’t keep living this way, plagued with this enormous black void where the truth of that night resides.
Still, the idea of going back without the proper support scares me a little. Jazmine is great, but we barely know each other. So I call Lucas for backup.
He picks up almost instantly. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Will you come with me to a lake party at Ballard tonight?”
There’s a short pause. “Are you serious?”
I laugh at his surprised tone. “I know, not what you expected to hear, right?”
“Nope.” He laughs too, before going serious. “You sure that’s a good idea? Can you handle it?”
“I think so, yes. Especially since I might have remembered something about prom.”
I hear his intake of breath. “Holy shit. You did?”
“Sort of. I did a guided meditation with my shrink. Like hypnosis, but not quite. Basically just trying to unlock the memories.”
“Oh right, didn’t you try it before? Your doctor said she thinks the memories are still somewhere in your mind and you just need to bring them to the surface.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, well, don’t keep me in suspense,” he grumbles. “What did you remember?”
I take a breath. “I can give you a ride.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I remembered saying that to someone at prom.”
It sounds so minor, but those six little words are huge. The first real shard of clarity I have about that night.
I still can’t believe we managed to pry an actual nugget of memory out of my stubborn head. The last time we attempted it, it was like pulling teeth. This time it was far less difficult. Like a video game, where the first time you play it’s excruciating to pass a level because you’re muddling your way through so many unknowns, but after you’ve done it once and know the tricks, it becomes easier to pass. While Dr. Anthony coaxed me into a state of relaxation, I was transported back to prom almost instantly.
I’d always remembered the earlier parts of the evening—driving to Ballard with Sloane, watching the prom queen and king ceremony, dancing with my sister and her friends. After that, things get hazy. All I have are blurry shapes and random flashes.
Lots of bodies. Fancy dresses.
Spinning. Dancing.
My fingers around a cup.
Laughter.
My memory is like Swiss cheese, riddled with holes. I can’t see what’s happening during those holes, the images growing fuzzy and undecipherable before going totally black.
But this time, one of the holes was filled. I clearly heard my own voice saying, “I can give you a ride.” And while I said it, I was looking at something pink. I vividly remember a flash of pink.
“I offered someone I ride, but I can’t see their face,” I tell Lucas. “And I remember seeing the color pink.”
“Pink?” he echoes blankly. “Was it a dress? Hair color?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could it be a girl you were talking to?”
I suck in a breath. That hadn’t occurred to me. For some reason I always assumed the person driving the car was a guy. But there’s no reason why it couldn’t have been a girl. The security footage only showed a shadowy figure in a hoodie running past the camera. The height and build suggested it was a guy, but I can’t be totally sure.
“That’s a possibility,” I say out loud.
“Wait, this brings up another issue,” Lucas says. “If you are the one offering the ride, doesn’t that imply you were the one driving?”
“Fenn says he found me in the passenger side.”
“You sure Fenn wasn’t lying?”
I bite my lip. “I don’t think he was.”
“Okay, so that means whoever you offered to give a ride to ended up behind the wheel instead. Why?”
“I don’t know.” My phone dings in my ear. “Oh, hold on a sec. I’m getting a text.”
Jazmine: Leaving soon. You down?
“That’s Jaz. She’s going to drive tonight. Are you coming or what?” I ask Lucas.
“I can’t,” he says in a sheepish tone. “I have a date.”
“What!” I promptly forget all about my own drama. “Since when? Who is she?”
“This girl I met online. She’s a gamer.”
“That’s it? Those are all the details I get?”
“For now,” he replies, and I can almost see him rolling his eyes on the other end of the line. “Let’s see how the date goes first. Then we’ll know if there’s anything else to tell.”
“Fair.”
“We’ll be at the movies in Parsons so my phone will probably be off, but text me later to let me know how it goes at Ballard. Be safe?”
“I will,” I promise.
We hang up, and I text Jaz saying I’m in. I have to do this. I can’t keep hiding away in this house and jumping at my own shadow. I made a promise to myself. Okay, well, maybe it’s more of a devil’s bargain. But I’ve decided to embrace the bad bitch inside and go rogue. Because how long can someone live in total terror of everything around her before her personality withers and she forgets how to be a person?
After the accident and all the rumors, I thought I wanted to be alone, to keep everyone safely on the other side of thick, sturdy walls.
Now I realize those walls were my prison, not theirs.
Bad Girl Casey doesn’t sit in her room sulking and feeling sorry for herself. She isn’t scared of a lake or the whispers between the trees. I imagine if Lawson were sitting here right now, he’d smirk and cock his head. Goad me to throw on some thick black eyeliner and shock them all.
No more tears.
When Jaz texts to say she’s on her way, I throw some clothes and makeup in a backpack because there’s no way I can get out of this house looking like I’m headed to a party.
In the living room, Dad is crouched in front of a bookcase with board games piled around him on the rug.
“Want to grab your sister for some Scrabble?” He glances at me over his shoulder. “Or we’ve got Risk, Sorry…?”
“I’m going to take a pass on game night. Jaz invited me over to her dorm to study.”
He sits back on his heels and his cheeks droop with disappointment. “It’s Friday night. You’d rather be studying?”
“Just for a bit. Then we’ll probably watch this awful reality show Jaz is obsessed with on her laptop. I’ll probably spend the night, if that’s okay.”
“Are you sure?” he pushes. “We could play Pandemic. Or Monopoly.”
“Sloane cheats.”
“Everyone cheats at Monopoly.” Sloane enters the living room and plops down on the couch to turn on the TV. “Anyway, I can’t do game night either. RJ’s coming by to watch a movie.”
Dad stands up and grumbles under his breath. “Guess I’ll make a cup of tea and read in the den.”
“Sorry,” I call after him. My phone buzzes in my hand and I give it a quick scan. “That’s my ride. Gotta go.”
Then I bolt for the door before either of them can think to stop me.
I practically take a diving header into the passenger seat of Jazmine’s white hatchback, which she reads as her cue to gun it down the driveway.
“You rob the place on your way out?” she asks with a grin.
“No, but I nearly got hijacked into family bonding time.”
“In that case, you’re welcome.”
I’ve never gotten undressed in a car going sixty miles an hour before, but I manage to change clothes with only a few bruises from knocking my elbows into everything. It’s getting colder outside, so I opted for a pair of skinny jeans and a tight sweater. Jaz, meanwhile, chose to wear a short dress. It’s black and made of ribbed sweater material. The top has long sleeves, but the bottom half barely covers her upper thighs.
“You’re going to freeze to death,” I inform her while doing my makeup in the visor’s mirror.
“Sometimes you have to suffer in the pursuit of hotness,” she says airily, driving the nearly pitch-black country road that circles the lake toward the Ballard campus.
“You do look hot,” I concede, snapping my compact shut and reaching for my lip gloss.
I slather some on and hesitate before speaking again, then decide it’s better to give her a heads-up than possibly blindside her.
“Hey, just so you know… I haven’t been back to this lake since the accident,” I confess. “I’ve been on campus. Like, inside the school itself. But not out here.”
“Oh shit. I had no idea. Do you want to turn back?”
“No, it’s fine.”
I slide the elastic out of my ponytail and pull it around my wrist, then finger-comb my hair and let it fall loose past my shoulders. I haven’t cut it since the summer, so it’s longer than I usually wear it.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I just wanted you to know in case I freaked out or something. But honestly, I think I’m okay. Look—” I stick out my palms. “Rock steady.”
She scrutinizes me for a moment as if gauging my truthfulness. “Okay. But if you need to leave, tell me. I’ll get you out of there, no questions asked.”
Her sincerity touches something inside me. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a female friend I feel will actually have my back.