Homecoming Queen

by Melody Carlson

  Rhiannon nodded like she agreed. “I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone this, DJ. But under the circumstances, I think I should.”

  DJ waited.

  “Casey told me that she’d had an addiction problem, and that was one of the reasons her parents decided to send her here. They thought her friends had been a bad influence, and I’d have to agree, since that’s when she started experimenting with drugs.”

  “What kinds of drugs?”

  “Mostly prescription. Her friends were good at stealing them. And Casey’s mom had an old prescription for oxycontin.”

  “Isn’t that supposed to be really bad?”

  “To be honest, I don’t know. I mean, my mom’s obviously got her own favorite drug of choice — nothing seems quite as bad as that. I suppose I was sort of trying to forget about what Casey had told me, hoping that it was something she’d left back in California.” Rhiannon looked like she was about to cry now. “It’s like I can’t get away from this.”

  “I’m so sorry, Rhiannon,” said DJ suddenly. “I totally forgot about your mom’s situation. How’s she doing anyway?”

  “They’re saying she needs a year of treatment. Heroine is pretty nasty stuff, DJ.”

  “I know.”

  Rhiannon sniffed. “And she actually seems in good spirits — much better than when she first went in.”

  “I need to remember to pray for her more.”

  “Thanks.”

  DJ shook her head. “I can’t believe that Casey told you and Taylor . . . then left me totally in the dark.”

  “The reason she told me was because I told her about my mom.”

  “Oh.”

  “She thought I’d understand. Plus, I think she thought it would make me feel better.”

  “And she knew she could trust you.”

  “But now I’ve told you.”

  The girls stared at each other for a moment. “If I tell Grandmother, Casey will be out of here,” DJ said. “I know it.”

  Rhiannon nodded. “And it seemed like she’d sort of turned a corner. I mean, she’s even been letting me talk to her about God and everything.”

  “So what do we do?”

  Rhiannon’s eyes lit up. “Another intervention.”

  DJ remembered their fashion intervention with Casey and how well that had worked. Sure, they’d taken Casey by surprise, and she’d gotten pretty mad to start with, but with all the girls explaining why she needed to change her appearance (mostly to keep Grandmother from kicking her out) Casey had eventually given in.

  “You know,” DJ said slowly, “that’s not a bad idea. We could confront her and tell her that we’ve talked and that we know what she’s doing.”

  “And that we want to help her,” added Rhiannon.

  “The question is whether to include everyone or not.” DJ frowned. “Drugs are a lot more serious than fashion.”

  “And Kriti would probably freak if she heard that someone in this house is taking drugs,” said Rhiannon. “She has a serious phobia about drugs. She told me.”

  “Well, the only girls who don’t know about this are Eliza and Kriti.”

  “And they went to Harry’s house,” said Rhiannon. “To work on something for the campaign, something they didn’t want Taylor to know about.”

  “Like she cares.”

  “How about if we do the intervention tonight?”

  “I don’t know.” Suddenly DJ had cold feet. “Casey was so mad already. What if she does something crazy — goes into a rage, or runs away, or something?”

  “My guess is that if she stole your Vicodin and if she is as mad as it seemed just now, then she’s probably already taken a pill or two by now. She’ll probably be totally chill.” Rhiannon’s brow creased. “In fact, come to think of it, she’s been pretty chill a couple of times when I would’ve thought she’d have been losing it.”

  “Like after they lost the match?” said DJ.

  “Yeah. Remember how she was so laid back that night?”

  “So how do we do this? When and where do we do the intervention?” asked DJ.

  “My guess is that she’s in our room now. How about we do it there? And there’s no time like now.”

  “Okay. Should we talk to Taylor first?”

  Rhiannon frowned.

  “You don’t think Taylor should be involved?”

  “Uh,” Rhiannon said. She looked about to say no, but then she shrugged. “She should probably be involved. Especially if Casey already told her about her problem.”

  “But you don’t want her there?” asked DJ.

  “It’s just me.” Rhiannon shrugged. “But maybe we need Taylor. At least she’s good at getting to the point.”

  “So do we need some kind of plan?”

  “Probably.” Rhiannon stood. “Let’s go talk to Taylor. She might have some ideas.”

  “An intervention?” Taylor set aside the fashion magazine that she’d been perusing, exhaling loudly as if exasperated.

  “You don’t have to participate if you don’t want to,” said DJ. “We just thought that because Casey had confided in — ”

  “No, it’s okay.” Taylor reached for her bag, removing a small black notebook and a sleek silver pen. “It’s just that interventions aren’t exactly fun. But if we’re going to do it, we should at least be prepared.”

  DJ felt surprised, but relieved. “Yeah, that’s kind of what we thought too.”

  “What are our demands?” asked Taylor.

  “Demands?” echoed DJ.

  “Like our expectations,” suggested Rhiannon.

  “You say to-mah-to and I say to-may-to,” said Taylor. “What are we asking Casey to commit to here? Does she need rehab? Does she need counseling? What?”

  “It’s kind of hard to say without knowing the extent of her problem, don’t you think?” said Rhiannon.

  Taylor almost smiled. “Good point. For starters we’ll ask her to tell us the truth about what and how much she’s using.”

  “What if she refuses to cooperate?” asked DJ.

  “Then we hold her feet to the fire,” said Taylor with an evil glint in her eye.

  “Huh?” DJ stared at her.

  “What kind of fire?” asked Rhiannon without batting an eyelash.

  “See,” said Taylor, nodding to Rhiannon. “She gets this.”

  DJ just shrugged. “Fine. What kind of fire?”

  “Something she doesn’t want — like being sent home,” said Rhiannon.

  “Exactly,” said Taylor.

  “And if we told my grandmother, she would most definitely be sent home.”

  “That’s true,” said Taylor. “It almost happened already.”

  “Twice,” pointed out DJ.

  “Yes,” said Rhiannon. “This could be the third strike.”

  “Okay,” continued Taylor. “We make her tell us the truth — then what?”

  “Like Rhiannon said, won’t it depend on how messed up she is?”

  “Yes. But we need a plan.”

  “We need to make her promise to get help,” said Rhiannon. “I know a good drug counselor in town. That would be a place to start.”

  “Sounds like we have a plan.” Taylor stood now. “You girls ready?”

  “I want to pray first,” said Rhiannon.

  Taylor just shrugged and waited.

  “Dear Heavenly Father,” prayed Rhiannon, “we really do love Casey and we want the best for her. Please help her to see that we’re confronting her in love. Please soften her heart to hear us. And help us to find the answers that you think are best. Amen.”

  “Amen,” echoed DJ.

  “Let’s go,” said Taylor.

  “I can’t believe you guys are ganging up on me like this,” complained Casey. She was sitting on her bed now, backed up against the headboard with her knees pulled up to her chin. DJ thought she looked something like a trapped animal. Maybe that’s how she felt.

  “We’re not ganging up on you,” said Rhiannon calmly. “We�
��re trying to help you.”

  “But we need you to be honest.” DJ held up the empty prescription bottle as if it were evidence.

  “And seriously,” said Taylor, “there are worse things in the world than abusing prescription drugs.”

  Casey narrowed her eyes at Taylor. “Yeah, and you’ve probably done most of them.”

  Taylor just smiled. “Maybe so, Casey. So why not fess up. Join the bad-girl club. Seems to me you were a member not that long ago.”

  Casey closed her eyes tightly and pulled her knees even closer to her chin. “Just go away!” she seethed. “Leave me alone.”

  DJ glanced at the others. Taylor just shrugged and looked like maybe she was actually going to leave. And Rhiannon looked like she was on the verge of tears. Maybe this was hitting too close to home for her . . . maybe she was remembering her mother.

  “Look, Case,” said DJ gently. She moved over and sat on the bed near Casey now. “We really do want to help you. And you know I can’t let this go. Even my physical therapist said so.”

  “You told her about me?” Casey looked alarmed.

  “No, not specifically. I just told her my pills had been disappearing.”

  “And why is that my problem?” asked Casey with angry eyes. “Why am I the one you decided to accuse?” She glanced over to where Taylor was comfortably seated in an armchair, one leg crossed over the other and simply observing this scene as if she were watching a rerun of The OC. “Why not her?”

  “Because I have a gut feeling about this, Casey.” DJ bit her lip and shot up a silent prayer for help. “And I really need you to be honest right now.”

  Casey said nothing . . . just shut her eyes again, pressing her lips tightly together.

  “Look, Casey,” said DJ more firmly. “I can’t pretend like nothing’s wrong here.”

  “Nothing is wrong,” Casey said quietly. “Just give it a rest, okay . . .”

  “I really care about you, Casey. I can’t just give it a rest.”

  Now Rhiannon joined them on the bed, sitting on the other side of Casey. “Honest, Casey, we just really care about you. You know that, don’t you?”

  Casey shrugged.

  DJ reached over and put her hand on Casey’s arm. “Casey, we’ve been friends for . . . well, for almost forever. And I’ve never intentionally hurt you, have I?”

  Casey shook her head then looked back down at her knees.

  “And I thought I was your friend too,” added Rhiannon.

  “You are,” muttered Casey. “You both are. But I don’t see why you can’t let this go.”

  “Because we love you, Casey,” said DJ. “We don’t want to lose you.”

  “Why would you lose me?”

  “Because Mrs. Carter will kick you out,” said Taylor.

  DJ tossed a warning glance at Taylor, but Taylor just shrugged. “It’s the truth and you know it.”

  “Why does she have to know?” demanded Casey.

  “So are you admitting you took the Vicodin?” asked DJ.

  Casey sort of nodded, but didn’t say a word.

  “And the first step to recovery is admitting you’ve got a problem,” said Rhiannon quietly.

  “Fine,” snapped Casey. “I have a problem. Are you guys happy now?”

  “I’m glad you’re being honest,” said DJ. “I’m not happy you have a problem.”

  “But maybe we can help you,” said Rhiannon.

  “How?” demanded Casey. Her expression was angry, but DJ thought she could see tears in her eyes.

  “There are lots of ways to get help,” said Rhiannon. “But for starters you need to be completely truthful with us.”

  “Okay,” said Casey slowly. She looked directly at DJ now. “I did take your Vicodin, DJ.” She took in a deep breath. “Both times.”

  “Why?” asked DJ.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Had you been using all along?” asked Taylor.

  “No.” Casey firmly shook her head. “Honestly, I haven’t. But I saw that bottle sitting by DJ’s bed. I picked it up and shook it. I just wanted to shake it.”

  “Why?” asked DJ again. She so did not get this.

  “I don’t know . . . but the sound of those pills . . .” Casey sighed. “I think I was feeling stressed . . . and the pills seemed like an answer.”

  “That makes sense,” said Taylor. She had moved to the foot of Casey’s bed now, and she actually had a thoughtful look on her face. “I know how that feels.”

  Casey nodded slowly. “So while DJ was in the bathroom, I snuck a pill. Just one pill.”

  “And?” persisted Rhiannon. “Tell the whole story, Casey.”

  “And it felt good.” Casey sort of smiled. “Okay, it felt really good. It was like this load was lifted, and I felt all relaxed and good.”

  “It’s not like that when I take them,” said DJ. “I just get sleepy.”

  “Everyone’s different,” said Rhiannon.

  “So you took one,” said Taylor. “And one led to another . . . and another.”

  Casey nodded. “Yeah.”

  “But how did you find them in my sock drawer?” asked DJ.

  “I watched you get them.” Casey shrugged. “It was easy.”

  “Well, you won’t find them again.”

  “Do you have any left?” Rhiannon asked Casey.

  Casey didn’t answer.

  “Tell us, Casey,” said Taylor. “Do you have any left?”

  Casey swallowed hard and looked back down at her knees again.

  “Where are they?” asked Taylor. “Tell us before we have to look for — ”

  “In my bag,” said Casey quickly.

  Taylor went for Casey’s black leather purse. “Do you want to tell me where or should I just dump it?”

  Casey said nothing.

  “Come on, Casey,” said Rhiannon. “You know that DJ needs those pills. Think about it, okay. She’s in pain, and you took the pills that help her not to be in pain. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  Casey had even more tears in her eyes as she looked up at DJ. “Yeah. It does. I’m sorry, DJ. Hand me the purse, Taylor, you’ll never find them.”

  Taylor chuckled. “Don’t be too sure.” But she handed the bag over.

  As it turned out, Taylor probably wouldn’t have found them. DJ was fairly certain that she never would’ve herself. Casey had a secret pocket that she’d put into the bottom of her purse. She fished a Ziploc bag out and poured the pills into DJ’s hand. There were only five pills left, but it was better than nothing.

  “When did you last take one?” asked Taylor.

  “About thirty minutes ago.”

  “After our fight?” asked DJ.

  Casey just nodded.

  Now DJ slipped her arm around Casey and gave her a sideways squeeze. “You know that drugs are not the real answer, don’t you?”

  Casey didn’t say anything.

  “Drugs are a bogus solution that just drags you deeper and deeper into trouble until you can’t get out,” added Rhiannon. “I’ve seen it close up. I know how destructive — how deceptive — drugs can be.”

  “Rhiannon and I don’t agree on much,” said Taylor, “but she’s right on about that. I’ve seen it too.”

  “So will you go see the counselor I told you about?” asked Rhiannon. “She’s really nice. She helped my mom find help.”

  Casey looked scared now. “What about my parents? Will the counselor tell them?”

  “I don’t know.” Rhiannon glanced at the others. “I mean, I know there’s that doctor-patient confidentiality thing, but I’m not sure what happens when you’re a minor.”

  “I don’t know either,” admitted DJ.

  “I’ll go with you,” offered Rhiannon.

  “So . . . you’ll go then, Casey?” asked DJ. “You’ll get some help?”

  “Your only other option is for us to tell Mrs. Carter,” Taylor said firmly. “You know we will. At least I will. And then you’ll be sent home
for certain.”

  “And then your parents will know for certain,” said DJ.

  “I think it would be good for them to know anyway,” declared Rhiannon. Then Casey gave her a worried look. “I mean eventually,” added Rhiannon. “You know, when the time is right.”

  Casey wiped her wet cheeks and looked at the three girls huddled around her. “I guess I don’t have much choice, do I?”

  “No, not really,” stated Taylor.

  Now Casey actually smiled. “With friends like you guys, who needs — ”

  “Drugs?” offered Taylor with a sly grin. “You’re absolutely right.”

  DJ was surprised when Casey actually laughed at this. In fact, it seemed like Casey was relieved. Sad and embarrassed for sure, but also relieved.

  17

  DJ HAD TURNED OFF HER CELL phone after she’d gotten home that afternoon. She knew that it was possible that Conner might try to call her after the soccer game ended. She also knew it was possible that he might not. She just wasn’t sure which she would prefer, and keeping her phone turned off kept it simple. Still, once she was in bed waiting for her pain pill to kick in and remove the throbbing, she wondered if he had tried to call. She wondered if he even missed her at the game.

  The next morning, as she got ready for school, she decided her best course of action would be to pretend like nothing had happened. Unless Conner brought it up, she would not. She would keep a friendly but cool distance. It would be up to him to straighten things out.

  “So what do you think is going to happen with Conner?” Taylor asked as she drove DJ and Casey to school.

  DJ glanced in the backseat to see if Casey was listening. She’d been so quiet this morning that DJ thought she was consumed with thoughts of what would come out of last night’s intervention.

  “What’s going on with Conner?” asked Casey with mild interest.

  “You didn’t tell her?” said Taylor.

  “I never really had a chance.” DJ shrugged. “Besides, I don’t really know anyway. There’s not much to tell.”

  “Come on,” urged Casey. “Tell me. Maybe it’ll take my mind off my own stupid problems.”