Dear Cassie (10 page)

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Authors: Lisa Burstein

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Dear Cassie
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“We’ll be okay,” Lila said. “It will be okay.”

It was the first time I think I’d ever heard Lila try to comfort anyone.

Even though I was straining to listen, I stayed low to the ground and pretended to be asleep. What were they talking about? Were they talking about me? I’m not sure why I thought that—it’s not like when Amy and I were out there we talked about Lila nonstop—but I guess I
always
thought they were talking about me, that lingering feeling when I entered Lila’s room after they had both been together for hours, when I would find them having just said something and stopping.

“But what will you do without me next year?” Amy asked.

“What will you do without me?” Lila mimicked. I couldn’t help thinking about Amy’s stupid pet parrot. Lila was repeating her words the same way, empty of meaning.

What the hell? Last I’d heard we were going away together, the three of us. Traveling the country, driving in my car to wherever we felt like.

“But I don’t want to go,” Amy said. “Not without you guys.”

I got up and crawled out onto the balcony.

“What are you bitches talking about?” I asked, like I couldn’t care either way.

“Good morning to you, too,” Lila said.

I looked at Amy. She looked down.

“What the fuck?” I asked, unable to hide that I did care.

“Amy’s leaving us,” Lila said, letting the words settle.

“I didn’t say that,” Amy said.

“Don’t be stupid,” Lila said. “You’re going.”

“Where?” I asked, looking at Amy. “Where are you going?”

“College,” Amy said, in the voice she had that always sounded like someone had turned the volume down on just her. It was the voice she used with us a lot. “My mom sent in my acceptance for me, but I didn’t say I was going to go.”

“So you’re not coming with us?” I asked, still trying to act like I didn’t care, like I wasn’t pissed, but really I felt like when something gets taken that you don’t know you’ll miss until it’s gone.

“I’m not going to decide anything today,” Amy said, her voice trembling, tears filling her eyes. “I still have time.”

“Don’t worry,” Lila said. “Cassie and me still have each other.”

“Lucky us,” I said, even though my head felt like a cavern being whipped through with wind. Aside from my brother, Amy and Lila were all I had.

“At least you won’t have to sit in the backseat of Cassie’s turdmobile for three thousand miles,” Lila said.

“Yeah, there’s that, I guess,” Amy said, turning to me and wiping her face. “Cassie, you okay?”

It was only then I realized I was shaking. “Yeah, I’m fucking fine.” I pulled out a cigarette. “Just having a nic fit,” I said, barely able to light it.

“I’m okay, too,” Lila said. “Thanks for asking.”

“Sorry, Cassie just seemed upset,” Amy said, but I could see she immediately regretted it. I didn’t get upset.

I didn’t
do
getting upset.

“One of us is crying like a little bitch and two of us are not. Who’s upset?”

“Sorry,” Amy said again.

“You will be if you keep whining like your diaper is too tight,” I said, finally getting my cigarette lit. I looked at Lila, wondering how many miles we would be able to drive without killing each other. Without Amy to balance us out, I doubted we’d make it past the state line.

I don’t know if Amy ended up deciding to go to college, but Lila left town before we were even sentenced—took off on both of us before Amy even could. I wonder now, if I had been honest that day, not covered up my feelings with angry words, whether Lila wouldn’t have left me, too.

Whether Amy wouldn’t have ratted me out to the cops.

But I know eventually everything goes to shit.

Eventually everything falls apart.

What happened on prom night and after is more than evidence of that.

21 Fucking Days to Go

T
oday was hiking again. Hiking was important because apparently we were going to do a lot of it when we stopped training.

If we ever stop training.

I’m still not sure what we were training for. Not like we could ask, but Rawe never told us. Maybe she knew we wouldn’t train very hard if she did.

Our hike started early—butt crack of dawn early. I never truly understood what that meant until I got here. The never-ending horizon of the wilderness was the butt crack of a giant, the sun peeking through like a wink from one of his big white cheeks. We had a long, tiring day ahead of us. That would have been bad enough, more than bad enough, but of course, the boys were waiting at attention for us at the trailhead. They stood in a line: Nerone, the guys next to him in order of height. Ben was in the middle, grinning at me like someone behind him was pulling back his skin.

“Claire, what’s with the smile?” Rawe asked.

“Just ready to hike with my fellow hikers,” Ben said.

“You look deranged,” I said.

“You look like you’d be into deranged.” He smirked, daring me.

“No more talking,” Nerone yelled.

I smirked back, thinking Ben was lucky that Nerone had told us to be quiet. Not that I had any idea how to respond. I
was
into deranged.

Nez was clearly drooling. She was like a vampire, but instead of blood she craved boys, needed them in the same sick, singular way. If she wasn’t starting to piss me off so much, I might have actually felt bad for her.

“I hope Ben can still walk after the other night,” Nez said.

Well, actually, probably not.

“Move out,” Nerone said, leading the way.

We walked boy, girl, boy, girl, Nerone’s square head the front of the gangly brown animal we made and Rawe’s tight braid like our tail all the way in the back. Nez made a big deal about wanting to walk behind Andre so she could stare at his ass.

Whatever. It was fine if she wanted to drool all over Andre, because I didn’t have to fight with her about walking behind Ben. I would have to try to ignore his ass, because I wanted some cigarettes.

I needed some cigarettes.

I didn’t say anything at first. I guess I was still trying to figure out if Ben had really been with Nez. Watching him march in front of me and play air drums against the sunrise, it didn’t seem possible. Watching his arms, as thick and strong as the branches on the trees around us, it was hard to believe. Sure, Nez said they did, but it’s not like I trusted her.

I watched her walking behind Andre. She moved like a boa constrictor, surveying Andre’s ass like it was prey. She would probably swallow it whole if she could. She would probably grab him from behind and throw him into the ferns that grew waist-high on the sides of the trail.

I listened to the crunch of sticks and shuffle of leaves below me. The birds in the trees above me were singing bird songs to each other and talking their bird way of talking. I couldn’t help thinking about Amy and that stupid parrot she had.

I was in her pink bedroom only once. Apparently her mother hated me, hated me so much that I wasn’t allowed back after I was invited to Amy’s house once for a dinner that her mother hadn’t even bothered to cook. I can remember that bird squawking and talking the whole time we were in Amy’s room. It repeated the things Amy said, the things I said—as annoyingly as a little brother mimicking you—and the cage made her whole room smell like bird ass.

I remember saying, “How can you fucking think with that thing in here?”

And she said, “I can’t; that’s the point,” her face sad.

I didn’t understand it then. Thought it was another of her weird Amy-isms. But I totally got it now. I would keep anything near me if it were loud enough to make me not think, even if it shit on my shoulder sometimes.

Even if it made
me
smell like bird ass.

I looked up. A flock of them flew from one tree to another. They moved again to the next tree and the next, like they were following us as we hiked.

I looked at Ben still walking in front of me. It was now or never. Well, it was now or two miles from now.

“What’s with those birds?” I asked—not that I really cared, but I needed to say
something
to him.

“We’re scaring them, so they keep moving,” he said.

“Why should they be scared when we’re way down here?” I asked.

“I don’t know, Cassie,” he said. “Why are you scared?”

I felt my legs stop. My chest go cold. What the hell was this? “I’m not,” I said, forcing myself to walk again. “I’m not scared of anything,” I lied.

“Okay, whatever.” Ben didn’t turn to look at me, but I could hear a smile in his voice.

Was this what Aaron had done to me? Could boys now sense that I would cringe at their touch? At even the thought of their touch?

Fuck.

“Did you and Nez have a good time?” I asked, trying to show how
not scared
I was. I figured I should get that out of the way before I asked about the cigarettes. I guess I also thought he would be more likely to give me one if I brought up his beautiful Nez first.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“N-nothing,” I sputtered. “Nez said—”

As if she knew we were talking about her, she started skipping down the trail, like there were fucking gumdrops and lollipops on either side of her.

“Nez is fun,” Ben said. I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Spare me,” I said.

“What?” He shrugged. “She doesn’t let things get to her.”

“That’s because there’s always a boy on top of her. ‘Things’ can’t get through,” I said.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk.” He spoke with his back to me. His hair moved up and down like a mustache when he talked. “Or maybe you really do,” he cooed.

I considered launching him into a blackberry briar but looked behind me instead. Leisner was there, his feet pounding the trail like two sledgehammers, his curly blond hair as puberific as ever. He wagged his tongue out like he was trying to make his beard grow by adding saliva.

“You wish,” I said.

“I think Ben wishes,” Leisner guffawed.

“Tell it to Nez,” I said.

“Oh, I will,” he said, his tongue still hanging out of his mouth. I looked up, wishing that one of those birds following us would take a crap right then.

I guess Nez’s reputation was getting around. “Have fun getting herpes,” I said.

Behind Leisner, Troyer was making a gun out of her hand and shooting him repeatedly in the head with it. I smiled at her. She smiled back and pretended to blow on the hot gun barrel before sticking it in her pocket. She didn’t even talk and she was probably the most entertaining person here. Well, besides me, of course.

Eagan hiked behind her, his braces shining in the sun and probably catching gnats like the grill of a car on a road trip. I could hear him talking about how many poisonous species of plants existed on this hiking trail, then pointing out each one by its scientific name. I was surprised Troyer wasn’t pretending to shoot herself. I was surprised Rawe wasn’t telling him to zip it and making him do push-ups with his mouth open on top of those poisonous plants, but maybe she was glad someone was doing something other than talking about boys and bitching.

I turned back to Ben. I was so tired and I so wanted a cigarette. Maybe that was the thing I could use to not make me think, like Amy and her stupid, smelly bird. Maybe I could smoke a ton of cigarettes and suffocate myself into oblivion, feel the feeling of holding my breath for so long that the area in between my ears whirs like a blender, spins up my brain like one. It was either that or suffocate myself in the pit toilet.

“Hey,” I whispered. “I hear you got smokes.”

“Who told you that, Cassie?” Ben asked, adding my name to piss me off.

I ignored it. He was going to make me ask, make me beg. Maybe I deserved that, but it wasn’t like he knew it. For all he knew I was just some girl who didn’t like being called Cassie.

“I want one,” I said.

“No ‘please’?” he asked, his voice almost purring.

I looked all the way to the front of the line at Nerone. Luckily, he was too far ahead to hear us and was reciting some marching call that no one was responding to.

“You’re not serious,” I said.

“I think ‘please’ is the least you could say, Cassie,” Ben added, lingering on my name.

“What does that mean?” I asked, even though I figured he meant that I hadn’t thanked him for saving me, at least not like Nez supposedly had.

“Your choice is between ‘please’ or what I really want to know,” he said.

Super. It was worse than that—we were back to him pestering me about why I was here. Ben was nothing if not insanely fixated.

“Fine, please,” I said, so fast it was like I barely said the word at all.

“Hmmmm . . .” he said, acting like he was thinking about it. “No.”

I felt my stomach roll. He wouldn’t have said yes, no matter what I did. He’d just wanted to make me say please.

Asshole.

He started to smack his thighs and whistle like those fucking birds.

“Why do you want to know why I’m here so badly?” I asked, even though it would have been simple: pot, arrest, the whole long prom night story. But I didn’t want to tell him that. Because I knew it was a lie, knew there was more to why I was here. The reason that I carried, so massive it felt like it could bend me in two, pummel me to dust.

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