“You have no idea.”
“But you shouldn’t isolate yourself, Casey. Don’t forget, you have friends. I’m your friend. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know.”
“And you can’t do this alone.”
Casey sat up straighter now. “But, besides you, DJ, I don’t want anyone to know. Don’t forget you promised.”
“But shouldn’t you see a doctor?”
“Why?”
DJ shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seems like the normal thing to—”
“Nothing about this feels normal to me.”
“Yeah…but…”
“I’m just not ready for that yet.” Her jaw grew firm, and DJ could hear the warning in her voice.
“Okay…” DJ took a sip of her lukewarm mocha.
Casey’s expression softened. “But I do appreciate your friendship. And I appreciate you keeping this quiet.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure…what?”
“How do you feel?”
Casey wrapped her hands around her coffee cup and creased her brow. “I don’t know…I mean, besides depressed and confused and slightly suicidal—”
“Suicidal?” DJ gasped.
“Maybe that’s an overstatement.”
“But you are depressed?”
“Wouldn’t you be if you were in my shoes?”
DJ wanted to say that she would never be in Casey’s shoes, but knew that was heartless. “Actually, when I asked how you felt, I didn’t mean emotionally exactly…I meant how do you feel about…about…the baby?”
Casey took a long, slow sip of mocha, then set the cup down and looked directly at DJ. “Right now, it’s hard to believe there’s really a baby inside of me. I mean, my body definitely feels different and I have no doubt that I’m pregnant. But I just can’t grasp that a living human being is inside of me. And Seth keeps telling me that there’s only fetal matter.’“ She scowled. “And that infuriates me.”
“It probably just makes it easier for him—you know, to tell you to get an abortion.”
“I know. But do you remember how I used to help my mom on her pro-life campaigns?”
DJ did remember, vividly. “I even helped you guys one summer.”
“Remember those posters of unborn babies?”
“Yeah…the little fingers and toes.”
“So I’m not stupid…I know it’s not ‘fetal matter.’”
DJ just nodded.
“I may be confused about a lot of things, but I still feel that abortion is murder.”
“So you’re not going to do it?”
Casey looked down at her mocha again.
“Case?”
“I don’t know. I mean, even though it’s wrong, it’s really tempting. According to my parents, I’ve already done something wrong—really wrong. What difference does it make if I do something else wrong?”
“Two wrongs don’t make a right.”
Casey rolled her eyes. “Thanks for that brilliant advice.”
“Sorry, but I think your parents would agree.”
“But think about it, DJ. Which would make my parents happier—if I came home after graduation and announced that I was knocked up or if I didn’t?”
“But if they knew?”
“What if they didn’t?”
DJ sensed that they were close to a real argument now, and she didn’t see how that could help anything. So she reached over and put her hand on Casey’s again. “Whatever happens, Case, just remember that I’m here for you. Okay?”
“Thanks.” Casey stifled a yawn. “Now if you don’t mind, could we go home? Something about being pregnant makes me sleepier than usual. I’d like to catch a nap before dinner.”
“No problem.”
DJ felt conflicted as she drove them home. On one hand, she was thankful that Casey had finally been honest with her. On the other hand, ignorance had been pretty blissful.
6
FOR THE NEXT FEW DAYS, Casey kept a low profile both at school and at home. But at least she had stopped picking fights with everyone. Still, DJ felt uneasy about the situation; it was kind of like Casey was a kettle left sitting on the stove—just simmering for the time being but ready to boil over at any given moment. DJ had initiated a couple of guarded conversations, but Casey had been careful to avoid anything remotely linked to her pregnancy or how she planned to deal with it. Consequently, DJ felt like she was sitting on a huge and potentially volatile secret. And she would’ve been much more comfortable just getting it out in the open. Yet, that wasn’t for her to do.
“Casey seems happier,” Taylor said to DJ as they got ready for school on Thursday. “She was actually pretty congenial at youth group last night. I was afraid we were going to have to bind and gag and drag her in.”
“I think she’s trying to honor her word with Rhiannon.”
“And it seems like she’s not mad at you anymore.” Taylor studied DJ as they both stood in front of the large bathroom mirror. “Did you guys have a little chat or something?”
“Sort of.”
“And did she tell you why she’d been mad?”
“Not exactly…but we buried the hatchet anyway. I told Casey that she needs friends and it’s crazy for her to push us all away.”
“That’s for sure. Anyone with Seth for a boyfriend really does need friends. Too bad she didn’t break up like we thought.”
DJ nodded. “Yeah, it is too bad.”
“Not that we’re going to say as much to her.”
“No way.” DJ wanted to warn Taylor that the best way to handle Casey these days was with great care, but she knew that would only raise questions.
Once they were at the breakfast table, it seemed obvious that Grandmother had an announcement to make. DJ could always tell by the way Grandmother sat erect and straight, watching and waiting with bright eyes as the girls all sat down. And, sure enough, she was now ringing her water glass with a butter knife. “I have some happy news,” she told them. “I would’ve shared it last night at dinnertime, but some of you girls were gone to your youth group.” She then held up an envelope with a crest on it. It appeared to have already been opened. “We have heard from Yale.”
DJ squinted to see the front of the envelope, but Grandmother was already opening it and reading what turned out to be an acceptance letter. And it was for DJ. She had not only been accepted as an incoming student to Yale, but she’d been invited to visit the campus to meet with the athletic director. Still, it irked her that Grandmother had opened the letter first. Weren’t there laws against reading someone else’s mail? And to do it in public! DJ looked down at her clenched fists in her lap, then realized that she needed to let this go. Grandmother was, after all, Grandmother.
“Congratulations,” Taylor told her.
“That’s great, DJ,” Rhiannon added.
“Way to go,” Casey said with a tiny spark of enthusiasm.
Even Kriti, the Harvard-bound girl, seemed to be glad for DJ. But Eliza remained silent.
“I’m very pleased for you, DJ,” Grandmother gushed. “I hope you know what an honor this is. Yale is a very distinguished school. And I know your great-grandfather would be very proud.”
“I’m totally stunned,” DJ admitted. And that was true. Her SAT scores were good, and her grades were solid, but not stellar. She’d applied only to appease her grandmother. She never dreamed they’d accept her. How was that even possible? And what would she do now?
“I’m stunned too,” Eliza said quietly. “Especially considering that DJ applied so late in the game. So…when did that letter come, Mrs. Carter?”
Grandmother considered this. “Well, I hadn’t gone through the mail for a couple of days…but I’m sure it arrived this week. Perhaps Monday or Tuesday. Why, dear?”
“Please excuse me.” Eliza was already out of her chair and opening her cell phone with a look of determination. DJ’s guess was that she was calling home to see if a letter had co
me for her as well. Hopefully it had.
“So, DJ…” Kriti’s dark eyes were curious. “Does this mean you’ll cut your modeling career short?”
DJ glanced at Taylor, then at Grandmother. “I only committed to work for Dylan throughout the summer. I’d always planned to go to college.”
Kriti smiled in approval. “Good for you.”
“I’m so proud of all you girls,” Grandmother said happily. “I’m sure you all have bright futures ahead.” She turned to Rhiannon. “And I expect we should be hearing from the Fashion Institute of Technology soon. If you’d like, I could check on it for you.”
“Oh, would you?”
“I’d be glad to. In fact, I’ll let them know that you’ve been accepted at NYU. Maybe that’ll help them to see that they don’t want to lose you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Carter.”
Eliza never returned to the breakfast table. DJ wasn’t sure if that meant good news or bad. Out of curiosity, she looked around the house for Eliza, but by the time she found her, Eliza and Kriti were already rushing out the front door and hurrying out to her car. Eliza’s expression was unreadable.
At lunchtime, Taylor needled Harry to do the college acceptance hand count again. And when it was revealed that DJ had been accepted at Yale, Lane gave out a loud whoop. Then he dashed around the table and swooped her up into a hug and happy dance.
“But I’m not sure I’m even going.” She glanced quickly at Conner, giving him a helpless look, but he just smiled in a patient way.
“Why not?” Lane demanded.
“Because it’s not Princeton,” Harry called out.
“Or Harvard,” teased Josh.
“Hey, how about you?” Lane turned to Eliza. “If DJ and I got our letters, you must’ve gotten yours too.”
Eliza frowned at Lane, then sort of glared at DJ, but she said nothing.
“Come on, what did you hear?”
Thankfully, Lane’s attention was diverted to Eliza now. DJ used the opportunity to go sit next to Conner.
“Congrats,” he said quietly and in a way that didn’t sound genuinely happy.
“Come on, Eliza,” Lane pestered. “Out with it. You got a letter, didn’t you? Or was it an email notification? They’re doing that too. I hear the reject note is pretty heartless.”
She just tipped her nose up ever so slightly. “I’m not even sure I want to go to Yale.”
“You were rejected!” Harry pointed his finger at her. “I can see it in your eyes.”
“My father said that we don’t know that for absolute sure yet.” Eliza was reaching for her purse now, looking like she was about to make a fast break.
“Meaning Daddy’s going to buy you a nice building to make sure you get in?” Harry gave her a coy look.
“You should know,” she shot back at him. “Didn’t your family give Princeton a gymnasium or something?”
He laughed. “Not quite.”
“But back to DJ.” Lane pointed at her. “I want to know why you’d turn down Yale.”
“Probably because she’d rather model in New York,” Eliza suggested.
“No way!” DJ shook her head. “I would not choose modeling over college.”
“Then why not?” demanded Lane.
DJ glanced at Conner, who was still remaining pretty quiet. “Because I think I’d rather go to Wesleyan U.”
Of course, this got them all arguing again about which school was best. DJ glanced at Conner and gave her head a nod toward the door, and he got the hint. Soon they were outside.
Conner’s eyes looked concerned. “I hope you don’t go with Wesleyan U just because of me, DJ. It’s pretty small potatoes compared to Yale.”
She laughed. “Of course you’re not the reason I’d go there. I mean, I really like you Conner, but you’re not going to tell me where to go to school.”
He sighed. “You know I want you to be there, but I’d feel guilty if you gave up Yale for my sake and regretted it later.”
“I’m just not the Yale type, Conner. You know that.”
He grinned. “That’s a relief. Seriously, I’m not sure that I’m up to competing with those Yale dudes.”
She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to. It’s flattering that Yale accepted me, but I can’t help thinking it was actually a mistake. Besides, you know what I think about Wesleyan. I was totally impressed when I checked them out. I love the small personal feeling of the campus. I was also impressed with how quickly they got back to me. And it’s pretty cool that they’re offering me a little bit of an athletic scholarship.”
“You’re a good athlete, DJ—why wouldn’t they offer you something?”
“Well, I appreciated it. And I’m pretty sure that’s where I’m going.”
“Pretty sure, but not positive?”
“Well…I’m pretty positive that I don’t want to go to Yale.”
“What about your grandmother? Won’t she be set on having you go there?”
DJ let out a loud breath. “Maybe it’s time I quit letting other people tell me what to do.”
He held up his hands defensively. “Not me!”
“No, I didn’t mean you, Conner. You seem to be the only one who doesn’t try to influence me like that. I mean, first I cave to do the modeling thing, but that’s more because of Taylor than Grandmother. Although I’ll admit that it’s a way to make some good money for college…but still. Then I cave to Eliza to help with her silly prom queen campaign. Which reminds me, I was supposed to take a shift at her campaign table after school today.” She groaned. “Just shoot me.”
Conner laughed. “Maybe you’re just being a good friend.”
“I wonder if it’s possible to be too good of a friend.” Now DJ considered Casey’s situation and how she’d bound DJ to silence…and how badly DJ wanted to tell someone, if only to ask for advice. But how could she?
“Well, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, DJ. And I know you pray about all this stuff. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“So…” DJ paused as they were walking across the courtyard and looked into his face. “Are you really glad that I’ll be at school with you next year, Conner?”
He grinned. “Of course! But I do feel a little selfish about it. I hate to admit it, but getting accepted to Yale is a big deal. Do you think you should look into it a little? Did they offer any scholarships?”
“They invited me to come visit…and to meet with their athletic director.” DJ felt a little flaky now. Why couldn’t she just make up her mind?
He looked slightly impressed, or maybe he was just trying to act that way. “That sounds positive.”
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to visit,” she ventured, “and it would make Grandmother happy to know that I didn’t just brush them off without any consideration. Then I could come home and tell her that it just didn’t feel like the right fit for me.”
“Unless it was the right fit.” Conner’s expression was serious now.
She firmly shook her head. “Seriously, Conner, you know me. I’m not the Ivy League type.”
He gave her a hug. “I think you could do just about anything you set your mind to do, DJ.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that vote of confidence. But maybe I better figure out what I want to set my mind to first.”
“Casey’s sick,” Rhiannon told DJ after breakfast on Saturday morning. “She wants you.”
“Okay.” DJ set down her toothbrush. “Where is she?”
“Locked in our bathroom,” Rhiannon said. “Hurry.”
DJ tossed an I-don’t-know glance to Taylor, then hurried over to Casey’s room and quietly knocked on the bathroom door. “It’s me, Case, do you want to let me in?”
The door opened and DJ slipped in and closed it in time to see Casey doubling over the toilet and making what sounded like dry heaves. “Oh, Casey…” DJ gently placed a hand on her back. “I’m sorry.”
Casey stood up and looked at DJ with b
loodshot eyes. “I already threw up everything in my stomach.” She gasped. “But I can’t stop from—” She turned and did it again.
DJ got a glass of water and a damp washcloth and waited for Casey to stop. “Maybe if you drink a little water?” she suggested.
Casey frowned at the glass, then shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Here.” DJ handed her the washcloth. “Wipe down your face.”
“I’m so miserable.” Casey started crying. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You should see a doctor,” DJ told her, although she had no idea if that would help or not. But how could it hurt?
“I can’t.” Casey went down on her knees now, holding onto the toilet as she dry heaved again.
“Oh, Casey.” DJ felt seriously concerned. “I don’t know how to help you.”
“Let me try the water,” Casey said hoarsely reaching for the glass.
“Okay” DJ nodded. “Just little sips.”
Casey drank the water slowly, and for a few minutes it seemed to help. Then suddenly she barfed again. DJ felt helpless.
“DJ,” Taylor called from outside the door. “Can I come in?”
“No,” Casey said weakly.
“I think I know what’s going on,” Taylor called back. “Come on, Casey, let me in. I might be able to help.”
Casey looked at DJ with fearful eyes, but DJ just shrugged. “Maybe she can help you.”
Casey’s face was pale, her hair stringy, and she looked beaten. “Okay…just don’t tell her.”
“I promise.”
Casey turned back to the toilet, and DJ opened the door.
“Rhiannon went up to modeling practice. She’ll explain that you guys are going to be a little late,” Taylor said quickly.
“Thanks.”
“How is she?” Taylor nodded toward the toilet where Casey was dry heaving again.
“Sick.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Taylor frowned. “And I’m guessing it’s not from a hangover.”
“What makes you think that?” Casey asked as she turned around and reached for the damp washcloth, using it to wipe her mouth.
“Because I’ve had a feeling about you, Casey.”
Last Dance Page 5
