Sure, they were in cliques, the lower and upper class boys, holding their own versions of drinking tournaments, bouncing quarters and downing keggers through tubes. Cassie thought it was wonderful, to see the two sides getting along, or at least finding things in common. They always acted like they were so different, but she knew they weren’t. Despite the differences they claimed, they were still mostly high schoolers, worried about their future, or their friends, wondering what to eat or what movie to see. Sure, one side could afford the premium seats and the others snuck in under the cover of darkness, but they still wanted to see the same movie. She often thought the whole feud was stupid, although she kept her feelings in check. If she had told any of them that, it was sure to cause a fight on its own. And she had seen enough blood and fights to last her a lifetime recently. It seemed that they rumbled over everything, from tripping over untied shoes to wearing the same color of shirt. She sometimes wondered how they could care about such things when there were bigger problems. But then, when Scott was alive and she still skated, she had once cared about those things too. How quickly one’s perspective changed.
There was tension in the air as she and Dave walked through the crowd, hand in hand. The lower class boys were glaring at their enemies, and it felt like a fight would break out any moment. But Dave took no notice about it as he greeted several of his friends, and introducing her to them. Cassie even accepted a glass of wine, in a red plastic cup and was about to take a sip when someone grabbed her shoulder, whirling her around.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Chuck asked, practically wavering on the spot. She raised an eyebrow.
“Partying,” she said, as Dave came to her side. “Dave, this is Chuck. I used to know him, a long while ago, in New York.”
“Really?” Dave asked, surprised, but put his hand out nonetheless. “Nice to meet you.”
Chuck didn’t shake the extended hand, instead scowling.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he repeated, and Cassie scowled.
“Believe it or not, I’m allowed to be here, Chuck. I didn’t need to ask anyone’s permission. I’m here with Dave.”
“She’s my date,” Dave slid his arm around her shoulders. “Is everything ok, man?”
Cassie admired his tone. He could have gotten angry, or taken it the wrong way, but he didn’t. He approached the situation as he saw it, assuming the best. It made her fall in love with him more. What made her uneasy however, was Chuck’s glare.
“Come on, Cassie,” he said, reaching for his wrist. “Time to go.”
“I don’t want to go,” she pulled her hand back. “You’re drunk, Chuck, leave me the hell alone.”
“And who do you think drove me to it, Princess?” he snapped at her. “This is no place for you, it’s time to go.”
“Uh…” Dave pulled Cassie back. “She make up her mind herself, man.”
“Yeah, last time she did that, it got her in big trouble,” Chuck replied and Cassie shrieked at him as he lunged to grab her.
“Get the hell away from me!”
If the party atmosphere had remained as it was a few seconds ago, perhaps people would have noticed the confrontation. But at the exact moment that she screamed, someone else was shoved. From across the room, the tension that had been there all night was finally reaching a breaking point.
It wasn’t the fight that bothered Cassie so much as the sight she saw as she was pushed through the crowd. Dave tried to wrap his arms around her, but Chuck grabbed her waist. And it was in that position that she saw a lower classer push through the crowd, his trench coat pulled aside to reveal two hand guns on his hip.
Cassie’s world went dark as she screamed, and her lungs felt like they would explode. She wanted to breath, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything about the pain that was radiating through her body. She knew it wasn`t real, that it was just a dream, a nightmare, but she couldn`t convince her body otherwise. There was a loud bang, and then another and she was certain this was how she was going to die.
Neither side usually carried guns. They fought skin on skin, or with switch blades, or whatever blunt object came to hand. Using guns was a whole different story, and even Chuck was alarmed as he pulled her outside, Dave hot on his heels.
This was the worst he had ever seen Cassie. It was like she was in a different universe, screaming as if she had been shot again and again. Nothing got through to her, nothing he said or did. Dave was frantic as he tried to calm her down, and Chuck felt the fuzziness of the booze cloud his judgement as he tried to think.
``Bring her to my car, I can get her to a hospital.``
``No,`` Chuck snapped. “No Cops, no doctors. They are all quacks.”
“My sister is a doctor,” Dave said. “At St. Christopher’s. Whatever is going on, she can keep a secret.”
“No more secrets,” Chuck snapped, trying to lift Cassie’s struggling body. She was seeing things that weren’t there, and he knew exactly where she was. She wasn’t on the grass outside the party, where people were thundering by. No, she was back on the ice, feeling Scott fall again and again, and hitting the ice again. If they had another secret, he felt like it would kill both of them. “Do you know where the Criter’s live?”
“The Criter House? Sure,” Dave replied, shakily. “But shouldn’t we…?”
“Trust me,” Chuck said, as Cassie started to hyperventilate all over again. “Take us there, please.”
“This way,” Dave didn’t argue, pulling out his keys as Chuck lifted the crying girl across the lawn.
Dave’s car was nice, the kind of car he stared at in magazines and only dreamed about. But he didn’t say a word about it as he slid into the backseat, Cassie sobbing in his arms. Anger was boiling under his skin as he thought of the reason why she was the way she was. He was going to find who did this to her and kill them. He had talked to Jimmy yesterday, and he had narrowed it down to two hit man who ran in the Jones gang. Chuck knew how to get his hands on a gun and he knew how to shoot so he didn’t miss.
The Criter house was dark, although glancing at the time, that didn’t surprise Chuck. Richard ran a tight ship, and had to get up before dawn for work every day. He usually kicked the boys out to various parties or told them to shut up by 10pm. Chuck smiled to himself, in the midst of chaos. His best friend was an old man.
And then Cassie screamed again and he was brought back to reality.
The booze was clouding his mind and he knew it. He even let Dave take her as he pounded on the door, screaming Richard’s name. He never would have let an upper classer near her if he had been thinking straight.
Richard pulled open the door, looking less than impressed. However, his expression changed when he took in the scene in front of him.
“What the hell?” he muttered.
“Cassie,” Chuck said, trying to get her attention as Dave stepped inside. “Cassie, tell me the name of who did it to Scott. Who gave you the money. I know you know! I know you know, so tell me and I will kill them! I promise baby, this will be over and you can get well.”
That only made her cry harder and Dave’s heart broke. He had no idea what was going on, but this girl that he had fallen in love with was clearly in pain, and he didn’t know what to do.
“Enough!” Richard snapped, shutting the door behind them and reaching out to take Cassie. “Enough! Sssh, Cassie, hush, you’re safe now.”
“She’s not safe!” Chuck snapped. “Some asshole pulled a gun at the party! The party you brought her to, you scum!” He snapped at Dave. Dave looked shocked.
“I had no idea that was going to go down. I swear. I never would have brought her if I had known.”
“You bastard, I’ll kill you first!” Chuck replied and Richard grunted, loud and low.
“Out, both of you! You’re upsetting her more than you’re helping! Get out, now!
”
“What?” Chuck looked confused. He had never in his life been kicked out of the Criter house.
“I said get out!” Richard replied, a growl in his voice that neither of them wanted to argue with. “Wait outside!”
“Chuck!” Cassie screamed through her tears as he slinked out the door, but Richard held her closer, leading her to the couch. Her legs nearly buckled under her and he had to carry her the last five feet.
“Your hands are ice, hon, you eat anything today?”
Cassie seemed too distraught to answer. It broke his heart because it reminded him of the night his parents died, and the sobs his brothers had let out. And he felt so helpless than. He had never told them, of course, but he hated that he couldn’t fix the world for them, although he tried. It was a secret he would carry with him, to his grave. But with Cassie, he could do something.
“Ssh,” he said, waiting patiently. His experience told him eventually she would burn herself out and while he waited, he knew that this was the last Time this would happen. The girl in front of him, trembling, shaking and so razor thin she seemed like a corpse, would not survive if this kept up. He had to get to the bottom of this, and soon. Instead of focusing on her panic, he focused on the secondary problem. “Cassie, why is it always a fight to get you to eat? What are you hiding?”
She calmed down enough to meet his eyes, so torn on answering.
“I can’t. I have to…I can’t.”
“You can’t what?” he asked, kindly. “The hell I’ve been though, kiddo, you can’t surprise me anymore. What is it?”
She took a long deep breath. She was tired, tired of secrets, tired of hiding.
“I can’t. I had to be light, as a skater. And it got out of control.”
“Oh boy,” Richard ran his hand through his hair. “Even if it kills you? Because it’s going to kill you, eventually. You put so much stress on your body, and you don’t give it any fuel, and you’ll go down, eventually. And there will be nothing Chuck or I can do about it.”
And Chuck’s name she gasped, and looked like she about to cry again. But Richard patted her hand, waiting patiently until she spoke again.
“I know.”
But this wasn’t the skater’s secret, and he knew it. This was just a symptom, the hunger, the refusal to eat. There was something else, and he was going to get to the bottom of it, once and for all. The note was burning a hole in his pocket, and now the target was sitting in his house, while his brothers slept peacefully upstairs. And he wanted them to remain peaceful.
Eventually, she calmed down enough to be able to sip at some water. He set her up with a blanket and pillow and TV remote, promising her that he wasn’t going anymore, only outside to talk to the boys. She trusted him, trusted in this, although he could see it was a struggle. He waited until she had picked a TV show before he headed to the front hallway, slipping on his jacket.
Chuck and Dave were sitting on the porch, on opposite sides, glaring at each other, but nothing more. At the sight of Richard, they stood.
“Richard,” Chuck said and he waived his hand.
“No. Enough. I want an explanation and I want it now.”
“What?” Dave asked, and Richard turned to him.
“Are you sure that you want to get mixed up in this?”
Dave took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment.
“Yes. She’s worth it.”
It was simple, and yet Richard could see the truth in it. So he let the upper classer stay while he dealt with Chuck.
“Speak, I ain’t got all day,” he said and Chuck shook his head.
“The kid, she’s got secrets…”
“That you are going to spill,” Richard said, taking the note out of his pocket. “Because it was none of my business when you brought her around, and it was none of my business when you and her would whisper. But now, there’s a note on my door step, with my brothers in the house, and I want some answers. Because it’s my problem now.”
Chuck barely reacted to the note, it was almost as if he expected it. He took a deep breath, and then spoke Cassie’s secret.
“Her partner just didn’t die. Someone bribed them to lose and they didn’t. So they shot him on the ice and I know she’s next. And I know who did it. And Richard, I swear, if it’s the last thing I do,” he growled. “I will kill them with my bare hands. And then it will be no one’s problem anymore.”
Chapter 7
Richard had expected a lot of things to come out of his best friend’s mouth, but he hadn’t expected that. In shock, he sat down on the porch, running a hand through his hair.
“Woah,” he said, and found Dave beside him. Chuck was still in his foul mood and half glared at them.
“You going to judge us, Snob?”
“What?” Dave looked aghast at the suggestion. “No, not at all. I had no idea what she was going through. I mean, I knew that she was a skater, but I had no idea it was like that.”
“Well, that’s the cold hard truth,” Chuck said, lighting a cigarette. “A far cry from your perfect little life, ain’t it?”
Richard kicked him.
“Why you got to be nasty?” he asked, his point made. Chuck took a long drag on his cigarette.
“I think I know who did it,” Chuck said. “I got a contact back in New York, Jimmy the Snitch. And that ain’t his birth name. He’s got what I need, and I am going to get myself a glock and shoot them up in cold blood.”
“Woah,” Richard replied. “Guns got her into this mess to begin with. You somehow think that they are going to solve the problem?”
“We should go to the police,” Dave said, careful to speak. He was way out of his element, but the fact that he had fallen in love with this girl gave him courage. “Tell them what you know. No judge is going to be able to be stern when she cries like that.”
“Fuck the police,” Chuck said, stubbing out his cigarette. “They didn’t do nothing the first time, what makes you think they are going to do something this time?”
“And do you plan to show her the body, after, like a pirate?” Dave asked, bravery flooding him. The two of them glared at each other until Richard cleared his throat, taking on the role of the adult.
“Listen to you. “And do you plan to show her the body, after, like a pirate?” Dave asked, bravery flooding him. The two of them glared at each other until Richard cleared his throat, taking on the role of the adult.
“Listen to you. You’re snapping at each other, but you don’t realize you both want the same thing. History has been made on this porch; an upper and a lower fighting for the same cause.”
They both looked up at him in astonishment, and he continued to speak.
“So what do you think is going to happen, Chuck, if you hop the train to New York with a glock in hand?” Richard asked. “Either you’re successful, and you leave her to feel guilty for another death, or you’re not, and she stands at your funeral. You spend half your life ranting about how you want better for her, then why don’t you show her?”
“What do you mean?” Chuck asked, at least listening, although he didn’t look happy with the way the conversation was going.
“You want better for her, don’t get her involved in another mess. Start straight, here and now. Take your ass into the police station with the things you know.”
Chuck let out a deep breath. He hadn’t told him, but somehow, Richard knew. He knew that Chuck was feeling guilty for the whole mess, that it was probably his involvement with the gangs of New York that drew the attention to Cassie in the first place. That they probably wouldn’t have turned an eye to her without his presence around her. He had caused enough trouble in her life, and he knew that going to cause more in this underground life wasn’t the right way to go.
But he didn’t know any other way, when it came down to it. He had grown up on the s
treets, and his only interaction had been with those who stole their way through life. His parents never said a word to him about it, engaged in their own illegal activities. He never told anyone how he envied the big houses, where the upper classers gathered, warm and safe. How he sometimes wondered what it would be like if there were cookies and milk rather than water and an empty fridge to come home to.
He was used to not telling anybody anything, not revealing how he truly felt. But his secret was written on his face; as much as he hated the upper classes, he envied them. And as much as he pretended to not care about life; to be perfectly fine with his position in it, he wanted better. He just assumed that he wasn’t good enough for it.
Kids like him; no one gave them a chance. They looked at the address, at the shoes worn down through the sole and the clothes with holes and looked away. They looked at the leather jacket and the greasy hair, the chains warn as jewelry and they assumed a lot. They assumed this was somebody who would amount to nothing, who did’ want anything, didn’t deserve more. They hustled their children away and put their noses in the air.
Once, Chuck had wanted a second chance. Once, he had tried to defy the odds. But that was exhausting, and a few years of that was enough to last a lifetime. He just accepted he wouldn’t go anywhere in life; and saw his second chance to make a difference with Cassie.
And he had grown up fast; used to an empty fridge. One grows up fast when they grow up poor. He felt a lot older than his eighteen years, and he understood, in a way, how Richard could transform into a responsible adult in one night; the night they found out his parents weren’t coming home.
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