Interim, page 28
The fear permeated her words. She looked wildly about the kitchen, like she was searching for her goodness that hid away in cabinets or inside the stove.
Regan grew frightened. “It’s okay.”
Casey shook her head. “No, it’s not. It’s not okay,” she said frantically. “Who am I? What’s happened to me? How could he do that to me? Over and over and over and over . . .”
“Casey, stop,” Regan ordered, grabbing her friend’s hand. “Breathe.”
“He cheated on me all the time! You were right! He was a bad guy. He used me. I gave him my virginity! The guy who made fun of me all the time. My glasses. My nose. My stringy hair!!”
Regan squeezed her hand.
Casey’s eyes went wide, like revelation finally slapped her hard across the face.
“I deserved it,” she breathed. “All of it.”
“Don’t say that.”
Casey yanked her hand back. “No no, it’s true! I deserved to be treated like that. I am wicked. I wished for all sorts of horrible things to happen to my parents when they divorced.” Her mouth curled into a maniacal smile. “But the joke’s on me, see? The horrible things happened to me!”
“STOP IT!” Regan roared.
Casey flinched and jerked, knocking over the cup of tea. They sat in silence as Regan swiped the counter with paper towels then moved to the stove to reheat the water.
“How do I make it right?” Casey asked.
“I really don’t know,” Regan replied.
“Should I make a list of everyone I’ve hurt and apologize to them?”
“If you think that’s right,” Regan said.
Pause.
“Do you hate me, Regan? Leave our history out of it. Think about the last several months.” Casey paused. “Now, do you hate me?”
“I could never hate you,” Regan said. “You’re my best friend.”
Casey blinked. A single tear traversed her cheek.
“Still?”
“Still.”
They stared at one another until the kettle screamed. Regan poured Casey a fresh cup and handed it to her.
“Thank you,” Casey whispered.
Regan smiled. “Sugar?”
“No, I meant thank you for not hating me,” Casey said.
Regan thought a moment. “Did I really control our friendship?”
Casey shook her head.
“I feel like what you said was partially true—that I have a tendency to dictate.”
“You didn’t dictate my life. I chose to be your weird friend and have weird clubs with you and talk about weird shit all the time.”
Regan chuckled.
“And I loved it. I keep going over and over this in my brain. Why did I wake up one day in middle school longing to be part of the very group that picked on me so much? What was I looking for? I can’t blame it on feeling lost because of my parents. Yeah, they were fighting then, but there was no mention of divorce yet.”
Regan listened.
Casey chewed her nail. “I thought there would be opportunities. You know? Being able to have experiences I wouldn’t have had if I remained on the outside.”
Regan nodded.
“Is that how you felt?”
“No,” Regan said. “I was just tired of fighting. I gave up and gave in.”
“It wasn’t always so bad, though, right? I mean, did we completely ruin high school for ourselves?” Casey asked.
Regan shook her head. “No, but I do think it could have been a hell of a lot better.”
Casey considered this. “I wanna be better.”
Regan automatically thought of Hannah’s response to her same statement many months ago.
“Then just do it. Be better.”
Casey furrowed her brows, and then her face lit up. She nodded, and Regan watched her lips spread into a brilliant smile. It was a smile that said, “Today, I’m changed.”
“I’m not scared,” she said defiantly. “I’m not.”
“I believe you,” Regan replied.
“And I’m gonna make it right,” Casey went on. “I don’t know how, but I’m slated for Brown. I can figure this shit out.”
Regan laughed.
“Regan, it wasn’t even hard to break free—to let go. It wasn’t even hard. The moment you walked away, I wanted to walk away, too. I was too scared then. But once I made the decision on my own, it was so easy. It was like coming up for air.”
Regan lifted her palm. “Come on. Slap it.”
Casey laughed and smacked her hand.
Regan moved to the sink to wash the tea cups. Casey hopped up and grabbed a tea towel to dry.
“Wanna spend the night?”
“You want me to?” Casey asked.
“Well, don’t you think we’ve got a lot of catching up to do?”
Casey nodded. “Tons.”
Regan handed her a clean spoon to dry.
“I think it’s great you’re dating Jeremy,” Casey said, dumping the spoon in the appropriate drawer.
“You do?”
“Mmhmm. You’re both kind of weird. It fits. Plus, you seem to really make him happy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile at school until you started hanging out with him.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. What are these special Regan powers you have?” Casey asked.
Regan thought a moment then sang, “It’s the power of love.”
“Oh my God, you’re such a dork,” Casey said.
And then she flung her arms around her friend, nearly choking her with that power—the power of love. Regan hugged her back just as hard.
“Wanna watch Back to the Future?” Regan asked.
Casey released her and headed for the pantry. She rooted around until she found the box of popcorn, holding it up for Regan to see.
“One bag or two?”
***
“I love it,” Casey said, watching Regan twirl around.
“The leg warmers, too?”
Casey eyed Regan’s neon pink leg warmers and nodded. They were bunched around her calves, overlaying ankle boots and black tights. She paired the bottom half of her ensemble with a short, black sequins mini skirt and silver metallic bomber jacket.
“You look like a disco ball,” Casey said.
“Precisely what I was going for,” Regan replied.
Casey glanced at the bedroom door.
“Is he on his way?” she asked. She pulled nervously at a loose thread on Regan’s quilt.
“Relax,” Regan said.
“Ha! Relax. Yeah, um, okay,” Casey replied.
Just then a knock sounded on the door.
“Come in!” Regan called, and Jeremy opened the door, peeking his head inside.
He was smiling. And then he noticed Casey.
“I knew this was a really bad idea,” Casey mumbled.
“Nonsense,” Regan said, walking over to her and taking her hand. “Jeremy, you remember Casey.” What a ridiculous thing to say.
“Uh . . . yeah,” was his reply.
“And you remember how we were best friends before our falling out.”
He said nothing, eyeing the girls warily.
“What you don’t know is that we made up,” Regan went on.
“Why?” The word came out as an accusation.
“Because I apologized,” Casey said softly. “And meant it.”
Jeremy clenched his jaw.
“And I believe her,” Regan added. “We all make mistakes. I realized I made a ton of mistakes in our friendship.”
He stared, nonplussed.
“I’m not comparing our mistakes,” Regan explained. “I’m just saying that no one’s perfect.”
“She dropped you. She ignored your existence at school. She turned her back on you,” Jeremy spat, glaring at Regan in disbelief.
“I know that,” Regan replied, gripping Casey’s hand tighter.
“She tortured the hell out of Hannah!” Jeremy continued.
“I know,” Casey said.
“Don’t talk,” Jeremy barked. “Ever.”
“Jeremy,” Regan chided.
“I just don’t understand you, Regan. You finally made it out! What’s convinced you to go back? How did she convince you to go back? What did she say? What did she promise you?”
“Go back?” Regan asked, confused.
“Go back to them!” he roared.
Casey jumped up and thrust herself in front of Regan.
“Calm the fuck down,” she warned Jeremy.
“I thought I told you to never talk,” he said.
“Shut up,” Casey replied. “Shut your mouth and listen to me. I didn’t come over here to steal Regan away from you. I’m not trying to persuade her to go back to that group. I came to her to apologize for being the biggest asshole on the planet.”
Jeremy stood fuming, unable or unwilling to process Casey’s words.
“I left,” she went on. “I left them. It was a horrible bunch of people who turned me malicious and hateful, and I finally realized it. Okay? This has nothing to do with taking Regan back to the dark side. I’m here to give her advice on her outfit for your date, you jerk!”
He blinked.
“And to tell you I’m sorry for my dishonesty in seventh grade,” she added softly. “I should have given you the note.”
Regan peeked her head around Casey’s shoulder and glanced at Jeremy. His eyes asked her the unspoken question: “Is she for real?” Regan nodded and smiled.
He cleared his throat. “So you think two words are gonna make up for everything you’ve done?”
Casey drew in her breath. “Not even close. But it’s a start.”
Jeremy hesitated. “I can’t pretend not to know all the shit you’ve said to Hannah.”
“I know.”
“She was my only friend until Regan.”
“I figured.”
“I’m protective of her.”
“Understandable.”
“What are you gonna do about her?” he asked.
Casey thought a moment. “I’m gonna do everything I can to make it right.”
“She’ll never forgive you,” Jeremy pointed out.
Casey nodded. “But I have to try.”
Pause.
“Why this sudden change?” he asked, eyeing her curiously.
“Well, I guess you could say I saw the light,” Casey replied.
“Did they push you out? Is that why you’re here? Lemme guess. If they hadn’t gotten rid of you, you wouldn’t be kissing ass right now, would you?”
“Jeremy! What the hell?” Regan cried.
“No, Regan,” Casey said. “It’s okay. This has been a long time coming between the two of us.”
“You fucking better believe it has,” Jeremy replied.
Casey stood up straight, lengthening her spine as far as it would go, filling her lungs with all the oxygen she could to expel the tough words that needed to be said.
“They didn’t kick me out,” she began. “But if they had, I wouldn’t have cared. I hated that group toward the end. I hated what it did to me. I’m not shirking responsibility for the way I acted, though, so close your mouth.”
Jeremy clamped his lips shut.
“I take full responsibility for the person I became. But don’t stand there and act like you didn’t know me all those years ago. You remember that girl. I was a good person, and you know it. She disappeared for a long time, but she came back.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“I’m not asking you to, Jeremy. I can’t make you believe me. I can only make you see with my actions.”
“Why did you change to begin with?”
“Because my life sucked. I hated being a dork. I had the most terrible time when my parents divorced. I was prime for manipulation.”
“You keep wanting to blame other people—”
“I’m not blaming anyone! But I know when I’m taken advantage of! And I was so desperate to be popular. I thought I’d kill for it! So when they ushered me in, I didn’t refuse. I thought it was the answer. I thought it’d make me happy.”
“And now?”
“What do you think? I’m wrecked! You know what it’s like to purge all that darkness? You know what that feels like?”
“You know what it feels like to be on the other side of that darkness?” he roared.
“Yeah, I do!” Casey screamed. “I was there in middle school with all the rest of you! I was teased and tormented over the dumbest shit! My glasses, for Christ’s sake! I mean, could it get any more clichéd than that? You know how much I begged my mom for contacts?”
“Oh, poor you,” Jeremy said. “How did you ever move on from the glasses?”
“Fuck you, Jeremy. Don’t trivialize my hurt. We all hurt differently,” Casey spat.
“You’re right. We do. And some of us have more legitimate hurt than others.”
“Yeah? What’s yours?” she challenged.
He thrust his face in hers and pointed to his scar. “This, you little bitch.”
“Back it up,” Regan demanded, shoving her body between them. She was afraid of a fistfight.
“Call me all the names you want if that’ll make you feel better,” Casey said.
“It won’t! I don’t even know why I’m here listening to your pathetic sob story!”
“You’re here to pick me up for our date,” Regan pointed out.
Jeremy ignored Regan. “You shit on everyone. You decide you don’t wanna do that anymore. And we’re all supposed to embrace you now with open arms? Fuck. That. Shit.”
“All right, that’s it,” Casey fumed, bringing her fists to her face in a guard position. She lunged for Jeremy.
“No!” Regan yelled, grabbing her wrists and pushing her back. “Casey, back up! Jeremy, go sit down over there!”
They didn’t move.
“Fucking do what I say!” Regan screeched.
“What the hell is going on in here?” Mr. Walters yelled, throwing the bedroom door open.
“Dad, hello! We have rules in this house!” Regan cried.
“Don’t talk to me about rules when you’re about to referee a fistfight,” he said, noting Casey’s power stance.
“I’m trying to prevent it!” Regan argued.
Mr. Walters looked at Jeremy. “Really, Jer? You’re gonna go at it with a girl?”
Jeremy bristled. “No. I would never hit a girl.”
“Good. Gives me the advantage,” Casey said, and lunged for Jeremy again.
Regan held her back.
“Casey, sit down on that bed!” Mr. Walters demanded. “Right now! Jeremy, get in that chair!”
“We’re late for the movie . . .”
“NOW!”
The teens reluctantly took their seats.
Mr. Walters drew in his breath. “All right, then. We’ve got a best friend and a boyfriend who clearly hate each other. How do we make this work?”
“A schedule,” Casey said.
“I get Fridays and Saturdays,” Jeremy said.
“Those are prime days. You can’t have both prime days,” Casey argued.
“Oh, I think I can. You treated my girlfriend like shit for months on end. I think that warrants Fridays and Saturdays.”
“I apologized to your girlfriend.”
“Words meaning nothing.”
“They mean everything,” Regan reminded him.
For the first time in ages, he thought of his red notebook and all the words housed within the worn pages. He couldn’t argue with her. They meant everything.
“I want Fridays!” he heard Casey cry.
“All right, stop it!” Regan said. “This is ridiculous! Jeremy, you have every right to be mad at Casey. She’s done terrible things, but she’s owned up to them. She APOLOGIZED to you, and you don’t have to accept it, but don’t sit there saying her words mean nothing.”
“She has to show me,” he said bitterly.
“I can’t show you in one night!” Casey argued. “It’s gonna take a while.”
“That’s fine. I’ll wait,” he said.
Silence.
Casey sighed. “Then can we, at least, come to a truce?”
Mr. Walters raised his eyebrow at Jeremy. Jeremy grunted.
“You’re not gonna go away, are you?” he asked.
“Never,” Casey replied. “I will never do that to my friend again. You’d have to put a bullet through my heart to keep me away.”
Jeremy tensed, tugging on his fingerless gloves. He saw Casey’s name fade from the list of targets. She wasn’t cleared, but she was definitely in limbo.
“Fine. Truce,” he mumbled.
A collective sigh filled the room.
“And I’ve got another one coming right after you,” Mr. Walters said to Regan.
“Caroline will be much worse,” Regan said.
“God . . .” Mr. Walters groaned.
“And anyway, this isn’t my drama,” Regan went on. “It’s all theirs.”
“I’m far from drama,” Jeremy muttered.
“You’re the best kind of drama,” Regan replied sweetly.
Mr. Walters grimaced. “Ugh. None of that, please. And boys shouldn’t even be in your room. Jeremy, get out of here.”
“Gladly.” He was more than happy to leave. Right now he preferred Caroline’s company.
“Bye, Jer,” Casey said to his back.
“Whatever.”
The girls were alone once more. They stared at each other—neither sure how or where to start.
“Soooo, what earrings do you think I should wear?” Regan asked after a moment.
“Let’s have a look,” Casey replied, strolling over to the wall of accessories.
~
The bullet casings don’t smack you in the head so much if you keep a firm grip on the handle. It’s all about control. Control the kickback. Kind of like life: if you have firm control over your life, the setbacks won’t be so bad. You can deal with them better. Instead of being all emotional about something, you can step back, look at it objectively, and figure out a solution. Like blowing people’s brains out. That’s a reasonable, unemotional solution to my setback—the setback of being bullied on a daily basis. I used to have no control over my feelings about being bullied. I used to cry all the time. But then I took control. I took hold of my life, and I set into motion the plans I wanted to. I taught myself how to control my emotions, and now I look at my plight as a small kickback. The casings still slap me in the head every once in a while, but now I know what to do about them. Cling harder to the gun—my resolve—and keep pulling the trigger.
