Don't Look Back

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  I pressed my hand over my thumping heart. “Jeez, you scared the crap out of me.”

  “I can see.” He frowned, dropping down and grabbing my bottle. He handed it to me. “I called your name a couple of times. Didn’t you hear me?”

  “No.” Shaken, I unscrewed the lid and dug out one tiny pill. “I didn’t hear you, but I thought…”

  “Here.” He offered me his water. “You thought what?”

  I downed the pill, wincing at the burn as it slid down my throat. “I thought I saw the shadow guy.”

  Scott placed his arm around my shoulders, steering me toward the car. “I think that may have been me, Sam. I was walking a few cars down, alongside you.”

  Great. Even with the pills I still couldn’t figure out the difference between fact and fake.

  “I was worried,” he continued, digging the keys out of his pocket. “I saw Del down at the entrance. He looked pissed.”

  Not wanting to get into that, I didn’t respond and waited for Scott to unlock the door. Still struggling to control my breathing, I dropped into the front seat and squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the blissful stupor to do its job, to make me feel normal again.

  To help me forget that not everything was perfect, that Cassie was still dead and I was still a suspect, and that growing feeling that something bad—something terrible—was waiting around the corner.

  On Saturday, Julie arrived at my house. Not to hang out with Scott—although there was a lot of tongue action the first three minutes of her visit—but to go dress shopping with me.

  A mass of knots had formed in my stomach, and I seriously considered taking one of the panic-attack pills, but I managed to convince myself I didn’t need it. I was tongue-tied and unsure of how to act around Julie, so a whole lot of awkwardness ensued.

  Julie drove a rusty sedan that should have been laid to rest about a hundred thousand miles ago. Fumbling with the seat belt, I inhaled the scent of freesia and stale fast food.

  It was kind of a homey combination.

  “Okay,” she said, easing the car around Carson’s father’s work truck. “We have two options. We can shop in town or head into the city.”

  “It’s up to you. I’m fine either way.” Dad had given me his credit card, but I doubted he would have eagerly handed it over if he knew who my date was. Right now, they thought I was going stag. I was going to have to ease them into the truth.

  Her lips pursed. “Well, the city is going to give us more options, but most likely be out of my price range. So we can do both if you want?” She glanced at me. “Or I can window-shop with you.”

  “No. We can stay in town. I’m sure I’ll find something here.”

  Julie stared at me as if I’d just admitted to being abducted by aliens. “Are…you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m totally okay with that.” I started to chew on my pinkie nail on my left hand. “Is that bad?”

  “No.” She blinked and then fiddled with the radio station. “It’s just that you could splurge on a dress and get a really nice one.”

  But she couldn’t, and that didn’t seem fair. I shrugged. “A dress is a dress, right?”

  She slammed on the brakes at the end of our road, pitching me forward. My eyes widened, expecting to see an animal or something in the middle of the road, but there was nothing. She slowly turned to me. “You are seriously freaking me out.”

  Uh-oh.

  “I don’t mean that in a bad way,” she hastily added. “It’s just that you are so, so different. Even the Sam I knew when we were friends would’ve demanded that we go to one of the designer shops in the city if she had gotten ahold of her dad’s card. Even if it was just for the fun of it.”

  “Should we do that?” I would, if that was what she wanted. Deep down, I wanted her to actually have fun doing this, and maybe—just maybe—this could be the start of a friendship. Big hopes, I knew, but that was all I wanted: for her to like me.

  Shaking her head, she laughed. “No. Staying in town works. Maybe we could get something to eat afterward?”

  Optimism thrummed through me, and I nodded. “Sure.”

  The town was packed with tourists when we parked behind a strip of old homes converted into various stores: gift shops, bakeries, and thrift stores. Slipping on a pair of sunglasses I’d found in my bedroom earlier, I stepped out of the car.

  People were snapping pictures of historical houses and the plaques that seemed to be every ten feet in town. The one closest to us was dedicated to an unnamed fallen solider. My heart sort of tripped over that.

  “That sucks,” I said.

  “What?” She turned to see what I was staring at. “The monument?”

  “The whole dying and no one even knowing who you are—being laid to rest without a name…or a history.” I pressed my lips together. “I guess it’s like that with Cassie. She’s dead and no one knows why. There’s no reason—just that she’s dead. The end.”

  Julie placed her hand on my arm and squeezed. “The police will figure it out. They always do one way or another. She’ll get justice.”

  My stomach pitched, and I forced a smile. “Yeah, they always do. At least on TV, right?”

  She nodded, squeezed my arm once more, and sighed. “Okay. There’s this secondhand store down the street that sells these vintage dresses—not Civil War–era vintage.”

  I laughed, letting go of Cassie and everything for the time being. “I hope not. I doubt showing up in a ball gown would be cool.”

  “Scott would be pissed. He’d never figure out how to take it off.”

  “Ew,” I moaned.

  Looping her arm through mine, she giggled. “There’s this dress I’ve seen in there, and I’ve been kind of saving up for it.” Her eyes lit up with excitement and the kind of love only the perfect dress could bring, and now I understood why it was such a big deal. “It’s, like, this 1920s-style flapper dress with beads. Super flirty and just so cute. I hope they still have it.”

  “I don’t know what to get,” I admitted. “Or what I like, to be honest.”

  “Well, the evil Sammy”—she flashed me a grin—“would choose something that showed as much boobs and legs as humanly possible.”

  “Great.” The bell rang over the door as we stepped into the store, which was a maze of racks. “What about the lovable Sam?”

  Julie glanced over her shoulder with a frown. “Hmm, good question. Since you were, like, eleven, I’d go with your boobs not hanging out, and actually…actually, you didn’t wear a lot of dresses then. You were a jeans-and-shirt kind of girl.”

  “That’s so helpful.” I grinned, following her toward the back, where dresses hung on the walls and filled the racks. A few other girls were there. “So, what dress are you in love with?”

  Reaching up on the tips of her toes, she grabbed for a dress shoved behind several long, billowy dresses. I fell in love with what she pulled out instantly. Silvery and shimmery, it was as if a thousand stars had been sewn into the dress, and when she held it up, the overhead light made them sparkle.

  Darting to my side, she grinned. “I totally hid it behind the other dresses.”

  “I can see why. It’s beautiful.”

  “Isn’t it?” She looked like she wanted to make out with the dress. “The only thing is, if I do buy this, I won’t have enough in time to buy shoes. And I don’t have anything in my closet that would do this baby justice.”

  I ran my fingers over the intricate beads. “I think I have a pair of silver heels that would go with this dress, actually. They’re really strappy.” Julie’s eyes nearly crossed with awe. “And the heels are, like, four inches, but if you want to borrow them, have at it.”

  “I think I love you,” she replied.

  Smiling, I shrugged. “Your affection is easily won.”

  “When it involves killer shoes? Yes.” She clutched the dress to her chest and squealed. “I’ve tried it on so many times I think the owner of the shop is going to start charging me. Oh! I’m t
hinking about wearing this wig I kept from last year’s school play. It’s this short bob thing that would work perfectly.”

  She was in plays? “Yeah, it would go with the whole flapper thing.”

  “And not to mention I think Scott would love it.” Her eyes glimmered with mischief. “It’s like he’s cheating on me with me.”

  I laughed out loud at that and returned to thumbing through the racks. Gravitating toward the longer dresses, I went through several black and red ones before my fingers stopped on one that was such a pale shade of green it reminded me of sea foam. Unhooking the dress, I held it up.

  The material was supple, and there was a tight band of the same color under the breast. The top, with its neckline, reminded me of the famous Marilyn Monroe dress on the grate. I couldn’t stop touching it.

  “Oh, that would look perfect with your hair and complexion,” Julie commented.

  My smile was tentative. “You think so?”

  “Yes. You should definitely try it on.”

  Taking the dress to the counter, I waited for the cashier to let me into the small changing rooms in the back. My back was to the window, and all of a sudden, I got this peculiar sensation…like if I turned around, someone would be standing right there.

  I ignored it, watching the plump lady behind the counter finish ringing up a duo of giggling girls.

  The feeling persisted. I rubbed the back of my burning neck as my heart rate pitched. Realizing I hadn’t brought any of my pills with me, I focused on maintaining a slow, steady rhythm while Julie poked around the vintage clutches.

  After what felt like forever, the lady led me back to the changing rooms and the feeling of being watched lessened until it completely vanished. Feeling good about taking control of my own mind, I stripped in the tiny stall and slipped the dress on over my head.

  Twisting to the side, the material moved against my bare skin like satin. The hem swooshed around my ankles and the back dipped low…as did the front. Standing on the tips of my toes, I imagined the look on Carson’s face.

  My cheeks flushed.

  “Let me see!” Jules banged on the door.

  Opening the door, I stepped out and turned around. “What do you think?”

  “Wow,” Julie breathed, fixing the material on my shoulder. “It looks great. And it really shows off the girls.”

  Boy did it ever. “Too much?”

  “Not at all.” She peered over my shoulder. “I can’t see anything looking down. Your date will probably be disappointed, but it definitely draws the eyes.”

  I laughed, doubting Carson would be too disappointed. What would he say? Something ridiculously sexy, I was sure. And would he finally kiss me? God, I hoped so.

  “You should wear your hair up.” Julie scooped up the long strands, twisting the mess off my shoulders. “Shows off your neck.”

  Sold on the dress, I quickly changed and checked out with Julie. I thought the dress was a little pricey, but I believed Dad would be pleasantly surprised that I didn’t break the bank.

  We placed our dresses in the car and then headed to a diner down the street. As we waited for our meals, Julie chatted about her summer plans and how Scott was taking her skydiving after graduation. It would be a first for both of them. Apparently I’d done it already, but I didn’t remember. Julie invited me, and the old spark of interest was fueled once more.

  Near the end of our lunch date, Julie sat back and folded her arms. “So, you’re really going to prom with Carson?”

  I finished off the rest of my cheeseburger, nodding. “Why is that so shocking?”

  She gave me a duh look. “Do you like him, or are you just going with him because you don’t want Del anymore?”

  Part of me was irritated by her question, but I kind of understood what she was getting at. My attraction to Carson was a shock. I was the only one not surprised by it. “I like him, Julie. I really, really like him. And I can’t figure out why I didn’t see it before.”

  “I can give you a few good ideas,” she offered cheerfully.

  “I’ll pass.” I sat back, grinning. “But seriously, I think he’s freaking perfect.”

  Julie laughed as she propped her elbows on the table. “You really do like him! Look at your cheeks. They’re red with love!”

  “Shut up.” I tossed my balled-up napkin at her.

  She smiled. “I think it’s great, though. Don’t tell your brother I said this, but Carson’s hot. He’s got that whole Latin-lover thing going for him.”

  “Oh, jeez.” Placing my hands against my red cheeks, I giggled.

  “Seriously, though? Carson really is a great guy. That boy’s a keeper.” She sat back, grabbing the check. “And there’s another benefit of going with him.”

  My mind went straight into X-rated territory. “Details?”

  Mischief filled her eyes as she tilted her head to the side, sending long, straight blond strands over her shoulder. “The expression on your parents’ faces when you break the news.”

  A sound rose from my throat, equal parts laugh and groan. “Mom’s going to—”

  “Flip the hell out,” Julie finished for me. Sympathy crossed her face when she saw my look. “Don’t worry. She’ll get over it. Eventually. It only took, like, a year for her to warm up to me.”

  “That’s really reassuring.” I slapped the credit card down on the table. “But you know what? I really don’t care. Carson’s…he’s worth them stroking out.”

  “Just—”

  A slight shadow fell over our table. I turned, and my smile froze on my face. I almost didn’t recognize the short, sleek brunette hairdo and the perfect face marred by exhaustion and sorrow I couldn’t begin to fathom.

  “Ms. Winchester,” Julie said, straightening. Her eyes bounced to me, her gaze wary. “How…how are you?”

  Her dull blue eyes slid from Julie to me. “I’m doing great, considering my daughter was murdered.”

  My brain emptied. Struck mute by her sudden appearance, I couldn’t do anything but stare. Cassie’s mom. My best friend’s mom. Face pale, Julie shifted. I wanted to turn away, close my eyes in desperation. My mouth just wouldn’t work. And I knew I needed to say something. I had to.

  Finally, my brain kicked on and my voice came out choked and hoarse. “Ms. Winchester, I am so, so sorry about Cassie.”

  Grief darkened her blue eyes, but something darker and stronger churned behind that. “You are? Both of you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Julie agreed. “It’s terrible….”

  Ms. Winchester smiled tightly. Her lower lip trembled from the effort. “You looked very sorry when you were shopping for dresses.”

  The feeling of being watched had been because of her—Cassie’s mom? What was she doing, peeping at us while we shopped? She continued before I could really digest it.

  “Did you two have fun? Enjoy making plans for prom?” Her eyes fixed on me. “I assume you’re going with Del.”

  My mouth opened, but Julie cut in. “Actually,” she said, “Sam and Del aren’t together.”

  Ms. Winchester didn’t look surprised. “Sam? Tell me, Sam, how is that you’re out here, buying prom dresses, while my daughter lies cold in her grave?”

  “I—”

  “You’re just like him,” she said, eyes glistening. “I told her to have nothing to do with you, but she didn’t listen.”

  I flinched. “Like who? Who am I like?”

  Cassie’s grandfather appeared suddenly, grabbing Ms. Winchester’s arm. “That’s enough. You’re making a scene.”

  “I don’t care,” she spat back, wrenching her arm free. And she was making scene. Everyone in the cozy diner was staring. Locals. Tourists. No doubt this would be all over school by Monday. I wanted to fade into the cushion at the same time I wanted her to answer my question.

  Julie started to stand. “I think we should go, Sam.”

  I rose on weak legs. “Ms. Winchester, if I remembered anything, I swear I’d tell—”

&nbs
p; “How can you not remember?”

  “I don’t—”

  Her hand snaked out, connecting with my cheek. The smack reverberated through the diner, and the sting was fiery hot. Eyes watering, I put a hand to my cheek, stunned.

  Tears ran down Cassie’s mom’s face unchecked. “My baby had problems, but she didn’t deserve that. You were her best friend, her only real friend. And she’s dead and you’re shopping for prom dresses. How can you live with yourself?”