The color drained from her face when she saw that it was Liam. “Sorry,” she mumbled before ducking between us into the bathroom.
Paisley was waiting third in line, next to Ava. She stood up straighter when she noticed me. “Um, hello?” Paisley snagged my elbow as I was following Liam back down the hallway. “I guess somebody’s feeling more like themselves.” She eyed me from head to toe. “You’re hooking up with Buckley?” She shared a look with Ava that I couldn’t read.
I tensed. “No, it’s not like that—”
Paisley smirked, bringing the rim of a wine cooler to her lips. “Right. It never is, Cassidy. Just remember, being easy keeps them breezy, know what I mean?” I did know, but then again, I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. Every boy in Hollow Pines could blow away in the wind for all I cared. “At least get to your fourth drink before you let him under your shirt, ’kay?” She patted me on the head.
Ava rolled her eyes and pushed Paisley gently with her shoulder. “Oh, shut up, Paize. Let her enjoy her night. This is the twenty-first century. Go get yours, girl.” She offered me a thumbs-up.
I cocked my head, studying my pair of friends. In the time we’d stood talking, my cheeks had grown warm. Liam was disappearing down the hall. I thought vaguely that I’d like to catch up with him. Paisley snapped her fingers in front of my nose, bringing me back. I knew I should be annoyed with her, but instead, I felt my mouth stretching into a grin.
“Thanks, Paisley,” I said. “You … look really pretty tonight, you know that?” And I was surprised at how sincere I sounded. It was true, though. A faint glow seemed to radiate from her blond hair. Her skin had a fairylike shimmer emanating from it. I squeezed her hand, feeling a rush of tenderness for my friend. “Isn’t this night great?” I said.
Paisley’s expression was a confused mix between a grin and a frown. “Yeah,” she said. “I mean, I guess so.”
There was a swelling in my chest, like a rising balloon, and it seemed to be plugging up the gaping hole that had been there moments earlier. “Okay, well, I’m going to go catch up with Liam. I’ll see you guys there? Come dance with us!” I didn’t know how I knew that Liam and I would be dancing. But it felt logical. I waved and trotted down the hall in the direction Liam had gone.
I smiled as I passed kids that I only sort of recognized from school. They smiled back. The interaction felt good. It felt right. My veins hummed with a molten warmth so pleasant that I felt as though I’d just had a weeklong spa trip.
I returned to the living room where less than an hour ago I’d sulked in the corner. There I spotted the back of Liam’s head, peeking out over the crowded space. I threaded my way through the throng of people, politely excusing myself as we bumped elbows or hips. From the kitchen a nineties boy band song blared through the speakers. The beat matched the thumping in my chest. I remembered this song from car rides with my mom when I was younger. It was one of my favorites.
I tapped Liam on the shoulder. He was chatting with one of the sophomore girls that had been sneaking glances at me with her friends earlier in the night. When Liam looked down to see me standing there, his face seemed to break open with delight.
“Hey, you,” he said.
I matched his smile watt for watt. “Wanna dance?” I asked. “I love this song.”
He cocked his head to listen and then began bobbing along to the melody. He offered me his hand and twirled me in place. Laughter gurgled up from deep inside me, spilling out into the room. I couldn’t believe how long it’d been since I’d laughed.
Liam and I threw our bodies into the music. Others joined us and before long, a circle had formed to watch the pair of us. I didn’t take myself too seriously when I danced and neither did Liam. I brought out all my dad’s dorky dance moves—the lawn mower, the running man, even the sprinkler. Tears sparkled in my eyes from all of the merriment. I’d forgotten how much I loved dancing, not for cheerleading, but for the fun of it.
Liam leaned close to my ear. His breath tickled and he smelled like coconut shampoo. “You’re the most fun girl at this party.”
And I believed him. Because all of a sudden it was as if the clouds had lifted and there I still was, shining again.
TWO
Marcy
An eerie green glow was cast by a neon sign in the shape of a pair of boots that hung over a slick, pinewood bar. The club was dimly lit with places to disappear into the shadows for those who wanted to. Those who were like me.
I’d been here before. I knew that in the academic sense. Only this time felt different. I rested my elbows on the counter and pretended to wait for a bartender while I searched the faces gathered there for one that I recognized. No luck.
I turned my back to the bar and scanned the crowd. Come out, come out, wherever you are, I thought darkly.
The small town of Dearborn, which neighbored Hollow Pines, only had a few hot spots to serve all of the college’s campus. This was by far the most popular.
Five faces had been seared into my memory. When I recognized none of them at the bar, I slinked into the mass of clubgoers. My mind flashed through the lineup of them. Nameless. Heartless. They could only hide for so long.
I reached my hand into the light jacket I was wearing. A wash of comfort blanketed me as my finger traced the blunt side of the knife stashed inside the pocket.
Strobe lights flashed across the dance floor. I studied the face of every boy that I saw. Laughing. Smiling. Drinking from frothy cups. In the cutting lights, they all looked like they had fangs. I stroked the hidden blade, biding my time. Soon, I told it. Soon.
And in a soft voice, I began to sing:
“Hide and seek, hide and seek,
In the dark, they all will shriek,
Seek and hide, seek and hide,
Count the nights until they’ve died.”
THREE
Cassidy
When I was a kid, I had a name for that place between sleeping and wakefulness. I called it Sleep Space. As in outer space. That little pocket of time when I was so relaxed in bed that I was practically weightless, a black hole between two different universes, left dreaming in no-man’s-land.
Sunlight trickled through the blinds in my room, warming my face. I buried my head deeper into the pillow and clung to Sleep Space as though I could stop the pull of gravity.
The door of my bedroom creaked open. Through it, the scent of bacon wafted, causing my stomach to growl. When was the last time I’d eaten? I wondered as I finally lost my hold on Sleep Space. My last meal had to have been dinner. Did I remember to eat dinner? I couldn’t recall. I took a deep breath in and my mouth watered.
“Cassidy?” My little sister’s tentative voice came from the doorway.
When I propped myself up on my elbows, I had to remind myself she wasn’t so little anymore. Honor was already one semester into her freshman year at Hollow Pines, tall for her age with cheeks splashed with freckles and hair two shades lighter than my own that fell to the crooks of her elbows. She’d been named after my grandmother, who passed away a few months before Honor was born, and ever since, the name had been a constant source of anxiety for her.
“Morning,” I said.
“Mom told me to tell you that she made breakfast,” she said, taking a step onto my carpet. “I told her you probably wouldn’t come down, but she made me tell you anyway.”
“Okay … well, what’d she make?” I moved a pillow behind my back and propped myself upright.
Honor looked at me like I was pulling a prank on her. “Mom’s making chocolate chip pancakes and Dad’s cooking bacon. Why?”
I licked my lips. My stomach growled loudly enough for both of us to hear. A smile tugged at Honor’s lips.
“You had me at chocolate. I’m coming down.” I wrestled my legs free from the covers.
“Uh, Cass?”
“Yeah?” My bare feet hovered a few inches off the pink floral rug laid across the hardwood floor.
“Did you go to a party l
ast night?”
“Yeah…” I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the vanity across from my bed. “Oh.” I was wearing the same dark skinny jeans from last night and a fitted black shirt. Mascara and lipstick were smeared on the side of my face so that I resembled the Joker. I covered my mouth with my right hand and stifled a giggle. “I guess I need to clean up first, huh?”
Honor’s face brightened. “I’ll stall Mom?”
“Don’t let any of the chocolate chips get eaten without me.”
She grinned and scampered off. I heard the sound of her footsteps fading down the stairs. My chest squeezed as I remembered that this was the first conversation in weeks that involved me responding with more than one word.
Wiping the last threads of sleep from my eyes, I made my way into the bathroom and twisted the nozzle on the showerhead. Steam filled the room, fogging up the mirror, and I quickly stripped off my clothes, which reeked of smoke and alcohol, and jumped under the downpour.
I’d never fallen asleep in my clothes from the night before. Why hadn’t I changed when I’d gotten home? I closed my eyes and let the water cascade over my head. Actually, I had no recollection of getting home, period. I ran my fingers through my soaked mane, racking my brain for the last thing that I could remember. My fingers reached the ends of the front strands of hair on the right side too quickly. I felt around the chopped-off edge like I was touching the end of a missing limb and suddenly the sound of a scissor snip replayed in my mind. Liam barging into the bathroom, the tiny, yellow pill, and then … Sunshine.
Yes, the last thing I remembered was a warmth spreading through my hands, feet, and limbs as I danced gleefully around the party with Liam.
Here in the shower, I noticed that I was smiling at the memory. Well, I noticed that and that the water was beginning to get cold. I didn’t feel hungover. I had no headaches or stomachaches or grogginess. As I stepped out of the shower, I realized that I felt better than I had in weeks.
I ran a towel over my skin, but when I got to my left hand, I observed a dark smudge on the back. I held it up to the light to study, but I couldn’t make out what it was other than an inky smear. That was odd. I put the back of my hand underneath the sink faucet and rubbed at the blotch with my thumb until it disappeared.
As the steam evaporated, I stared at my reflection. Bright eyes stared back at me. For the first time in a long time, I had the urge to comb my hair, put on eyeliner, and wear real clothes. I couldn’t remember the end of the party or how I’d gotten home last night, but … so what? After I took the Sunshine, maybe I’d had too much to drink. Maybe I’d actually partied like I used to and had one of those miraculous mornings without a hangover. Clearly, I was fine. In fact, I was better than fine. I was happier than I’d been since before I’d met Adam, since before Knox died, since before that night in Dearborn.
Dearborn.
I abandoned my reflection in search of a pair of yoga pants and a soft fleece jacket. Real clothes and makeup would have to wait until after I got my appetite under control. I never wanted to think about Dearborn again. Except somehow it’d been all I could think about for weeks. I’d thought about it so much that it had chewed the gaping hole through my chest.
Dressed, I tugged a comb through my damp hair. Only last night and even this morning, it was like the gaping hole had vanished. It was like I’d never gotten drunk at that stupid bar or stumbled away from my friends or gone off with that stupid group of college guys.
It was like I was still me.
Like they’d never hurt me.
I froze, waiting for the memory to gnaw a fresh crater where my heart should be, but none opened up. I could breathe. In and out, in and out. I felt genuinely good. Maybe my friends had been right after all. A night out was exactly what I’d needed. Kids my age. Fun. High school.
There was no reason to worry. Everything was fine. People had little blackouts all the time after a party. I nearly giggled at the memory of Billy Ray, who once took off his shirt at a party, drew a smiley face on his ample stomach, using his belly button as the mouth, and went around using it like a ventriloquist dummy. When we brought it up at school, he had absolutely no recollection of his routine.
See? I was better than fine.
I returned my comb to the drawer, enjoying the scent of eucalyptus shampoo and the comfort of lotion on my skin, and then, without sparing another thought for Dearborn, headed downstairs to the kitchen.
Mom was using a spatula to wrestle a pancake from the griddle. She dropped the perfectly browned circle of batter onto a plate. Dad peered into the microwave while a plate of bacon spun around and around. He didn’t know how to use the stove.
Honor was the first to look up. “Don’t worry. I didn’t let Mom use any blueberries in yours,” she said. She sat on one of the wooden chairs at the kitchen table, knees tucked into her chest and pajama bottoms covering her toes.
“Thank goodness,” I said with exaggerated relief. The tile was cool on my feet as I wandered over to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice.
“Somebody’s up and at ’em this morning.” Dad stood up from the microwave. I couldn’t count the number of times my mom had told him not to watch the food while it spun inside or else he’d get cancer from the radiation, but when it came to food, my dad was a little kid, always sneaking treats and never able to wait patiently for the next meal, which explained the endearing cushion of fat that protruded past the waistband of his weekend sweats.
“I guess so,” I said, trying to sound casual, as though I’d never stopped attending our Saturday morning breakfasts in favor of sulking in my room.
Mom turned her back from the griddle. She had a dollop of batter stuck in her bangs. “You look … healthy,” she said.
Healthy. That was nice, I supposed. But what had I been looking like normally, the Crypt Keeper? A few months ago, I probably would have immediately assumed she meant “fat.” After pouring a glass of orange juice, I returned the carton to its spot in the fridge.
“Oh, Cassidy, can you grab the strawberries in there? We need something semi-nutritious.”
“Since when?” The microwave beeped and my dad grabbed the plate of bacon, yelping when it was too hot to handle. “Youch!” He pressed his fingers to his mouth.
“Careful.” I laughed—not that I was keeping score, but that was at least the second time in twenty-four hours. I slid the strawberries over to my mom.
“That’s strange. One of my knives is missing,” Mom said, studying the wooden block that held her kitchen set. “Are you using it, Darren?”
Dad shook his head. I plopped down on a chair next to Honor and pulled my phone from my pocket. Five unread text messages.
The first three were from Paisley.
Where are you? I can’t find you anywhere and this party is past its expiration date. The message was sent at midnight. I scanned to her second text.
Hello? You’re my ride home. Did you ditch me for Liam???
I chewed on my nail. Had I really abandoned Paisley? That did sound a little like me. Shit.
Ava’s giving me a ride home. Next time you want to take a drive down easy street, you could at least let me know … Text me so I know you got home ok tho, promise?
A mixture of emotions swept through me. I’d always thought Paisley’s jokes—that I was easy—were harmless until recently when I realized they could hurt my credibility. It felt too late and too convenient to try to tell people now that, sure, I liked to get drunk and kiss boys, but … that was it. Besides, maybe Paisley was a little bit right about me. I wasn’t sure anymore.
The next text was from Ava.
Ignore Paize. She’s drunk. Both glad to see you having fun. Ta-ta!
I smiled at that. See? I was right. I had had a good time. I still was having a good time.
Just then Honor reached for my phone and tried to snatch it away. “What’s so important, anyway?” she whined. Years of being a big sister had trained me to be quicker
than she was. I latched onto her wrist before she could swipe my cell away.
“Give it back!” I pried her fingers free from the screen. She had such delicate little bird bones that it was a relief, at least so far, that she didn’t want to be a cheerleader like me. The poor girl would break.
She released her grip with a huff and sat back in her chair.
I closed my eyes for a moment and sighed. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. One more thing and I’ll put it away. Deal?”
She nodded.
The last message was from an unsaved number. I clicked on the message and knew immediately whom it was from:
That was fun. Where’d you run off to last night? Txt me if you want more. This # is my cell.
It had to be Liam. And I could only hope by “more” he was referring to Sunshine. After all, if he didn’t know where I ran off to either, then that must mean I didn’t “take a drive down easy street,” as Paisley had so poetically put it, which meant I probably just got tired and decided it was time to head home. That was a relief. Sunshine was looking better and better. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips.
I pressed my thumbs into the keypad and typed out, Later today? And hit “send.”
“I know that look.” Mom set a heaping stack of pancakes topped with strawberries on the table between Honor and me.
“What look?” I said, setting the phone facedown.
“The there’s a boy I like and I can’t stop texting him look.” She gave me a look that I was familiar with, too. The I’m your mother and I know things look. I scrunched up my nose and stuck my tongue out.
Dad joined us at the table and helped himself to the first pancake. “A boy?” he said with mock surprise. My dad wasn’t one of those barbaric guys that acted as though his daughters should be locked in castles until they were thirty or else he’d pull out his shotgun. In fact, my parents shared an obviously pleased glance at the mention of a boy and me in the same sentence.
Teen Hyde Page 2
