“Cassie, Fred really did all of those things you told us about, didn’t he?” Mom asked. I could see she was having her doubts.
Before I even had a chance to answer, Daddy said, “You wouldn’t ask that question if you’d been with us just now and seen Fred Sloane. He almost had me believing him ― not that Cassie was lying, but maybe she had exaggerated or misinterpreted some of his actions. But when he started in on what a ripe little peach she is ... I could see it all over his face. That bastard! He’s been after her for sure.”
I was relieved. For a minute, with Angie, I started to think that maybe I had made it all up. I mean, Angie and Fred had been pretty convincing. And no one else had ever really seen any of that stuff with their own eyes. But now that Daddy had seen Fred that way, I had confidence that I really did know what I was talking about.
When we got home, Robbie was sitting on the front porch in his Mickey Mouse hat and his swimming trunks.
“I thought I told you to stay inside until I got back, Robbie,” Mom said.
“I was scared of the burglars.”
“What burglars?” Mom asked.
“The ones I heard trying to get into the house. They were making noises outside your bedroom window, Mom.”
Robbie always hears burglars. He used to hear monsters, but now it’s just burglars.
“I really did, Mom. I know you don’t believe me but I really did this time.” Robbie’s voice was getting louder and higher with each word.
“Okay, Robbie, let’s go look,” Dad said.
I can’t believe how many times they have looked for burglars and monsters to reassure Robbie.
Just as Mom and I got to the front door, the phone started ringing. Mom ran to the kitchen to answer it. It was Angie. I couldn’t tell what the conversation was because Mom just kept saying maybe, and I don’t think so, and things which gave me no clue.
Daddy and Robbie had completed the burglar search and Robbie was flopped in front of the TV watching “The Wizard of Oz.”
Mom came into the den. “Angie called to say she was terribly concerned about Cassie, and to suggest that Cassie see a psychologist.”
“Cassie see a psychologist? The one who needs a psychologist is her lecher of a husband!” Dad yelled. “And maybe she ought to see one, too, for being married to that scum.”
“What’s a lecher, Daddy?” Robbie asked, distracted from the tornado scene by Daddy’s yelling.
“Oh, just a person who’s not very nice,” Daddy said.
“Who’s a lecher?” Robbie asked.
“No one you know, Robbie. Hey look, Toto’s found Dorothy again.”
“It is too someone I know, I bet,” Robbie said. But he turned back to Dorothy and Toto.
Daddy walked back out to the kitchen with Mom and I followed.
“So what else did she say?” he asked in a lowered voice.
“She said Cassie needed help distinguishing between her sexual fantasies and the real world, and that it was lucky for Cassie that she chose to accuse someone as understanding as Fred.”
When I heard that, it wasn’t so hard for me to think about losing Angie as a friend. I mean, how could she ever have been my friend, or even known me, if she believed I was such a liar?
“What a bunch of bull,” Daddy said.
“I felt kind of sorry for Angie on the phone just now,” Mom said.
“Oh, I know,” Daddy said, his face softening a little. “She’s in a bad spot, too. And even Fred ― why is he like that? He can’t be very happy right now, do you think?”
They talked for a long time about the Sloanes and what to do next. Mostly I just listened, unless they asked me a question. It all seemed more important than I wanted it to be. I was beginning to feel a little more relaxed with my mom, though.
We’d probably been in the kitchen for about an hour when I heard the doorbell. Now what, I thought, but it was only Mandy.
“Hey, Robbie. What’s the haps?” she asked, walking through the den and into the kitchen. Robbie didn’t even look up. The Tin Man was singing “If I Only Had a Heart,” Robbie’s favorite part except for where the Wicked Witch gets her just desserts.
“Hi, everybody,” Mandy said as she crossed the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. “What have you got to feed a poor starving orphan? Francine never buys groceries anymore.”
Mandy started poking around, looking in bowls of leftovers, then pulled out the milk carton and poured herself a glass.
Mom used to get mad at Mandy for making herself so at home in our refrigerator, but she said she could never stay mad long enough to make it worth her while.
“Hey, Cassie, there’s a party at Julia’s house tonight. Wanna go?”
“On Sunday night?” Daddy said.
“Oh, you know, Jenks, it’ll be over by 9:30. It’s really just a few kids getting together.”
“I don’t even like parties that much,” I reminded Mandy.
“Yeah, but this will be different,” she said. She rolled her eyes at my parents and then said, “Come on, Cassie, let’s go out on the patio.” Mandy practically pushed me out the door. With the door closed behind us, Mandy started jumping up and down, clapping her hands and squealing at me, “Guess what? Guess what?”
“What?” I guessed.
“Guess who called me. Oh, it’s who I always wanted to have call me. Guess who, Cassie.”
My mind was still on the hassles of the day, but I tried to go along with Mandy.
“Who?” I guessed.
“Eric!” she shrieked. “You know, Eric! Eric who I’ve loved since the fifth grade and who never even looks at me. He called! He wanted to know if I would be at Julia’s party. He said he hoped I would! I’m so happy!”
Mandy’s face was all red, and her eyes were kind of glittery. She sat down on the lawn swing and pulled me down beside her. “Wait until you hear this part, though. Eric called me back about fifteen minutes later and asked if you were going to Julia’s party. He said Jason wanted to know, but he was too shy to call you himself. You’ve got to go, Cassie. It’ll be so cool! Me and Eric and you and Jason.”
“I don’t even know if I like Jason,” I told her. “And I know I don’t like parties. I mean, everyone just stands around and eats and I’ve already eaten. And I never know what to say to anybody.”
“But Cassie, it’ll be different with a boyfriend. Please go. Francine might not even let me go if you don’t go. She doesn’t know Julia, and she always thinks you’re so sensible. Please?”
I did sort of think Jason was cute. And I didn’t want to let Mandy down. It didn’t sound like much fun. Why would it be more fun worrying about what to say to Jason than it would have been worrying about what to say to people in general? It might be good to get out of the house for a while. Everything felt so heavy here.
“Well, okay. I guess.”
Mandy grabbed me and hugged me. “You’re such a pal! I knew you’d do it. I told Eric I was sure you’d be there!”
I wished I felt as happy about it as Mandy did. The most enthusiasm I could gather was to tell myself that maybe it would be okay, and anyway it wouldn’t last very long.
“Let’s go see what you’re going to wear. It’s kind of like a first date. I’m not telling Francine that Eric called, though. She’d probably think we were going to some kind of orgy or something.”
We walked back through the kitchen. Mom and Dad were still sitting there talking.
“Is it okay if I go to the party with Mandy tonight?” I asked.
“I don’t know, Cassie,” Mom said. “You’ve had a pretty difficult day. Maybe you’d better stay home this evening.”
“On the other hand,” Daddy said, “maybe it would do you good to get out for a while.”
Mom didn’t look convinced, but she said, “Well, I guess you can go. But you’ll have to leave the party by 9:30 at the very latest. I’ll bet you’re behind with your schoolwork. In fact, I’ll come get you right at 9:30. Tell your
mother I can take you home, too, Mandy.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Jenkins,” Mandy said.
We went to my room, and Mandy started sorting through my closet.
“These jeans look best on you,” she told me, pulling out my only pair of designer jeans. Mom bought them for me last Christmas, even though I preferred Levi’s.
“And this blouse, Cassie. This is great.”
She tossed me a white blouse that was all lacy at the neck and sleeves. It wouldn’t be as comfortable as a sweatshirt, but I went along with Mandy’s planning. I drew the line at using blush and lipstick though. I thought it was stupid to put all that stuff on your face.
“Just try a little, Cassie. You’ll look great, and no one will even know you’re wearing it.”
But I wouldn’t be convinced. I went to the party unblushed.
We were the first ones there. Mandy and Julia giggled while I wished I had stayed at home. Then other kids started coming in. When Eric and Jason arrived they stayed on the opposite side of the room and didn’t even look at us. There were only about twelve kids there, so it was easy to feel self-conscious. Finally though, Julia and Todd started dancing. Then Eric and Jason walked over to us. Eric said to Mandy, “Wanna dance?” and they were out in the middle of the floor, leaving me and Jason to stare at each other.
“Wanna dance?” Jason mumbled.
“I don’t know how,” I said.
“Me neither,” Jason said. We stood there.
“Wanna try?”
“Okay,” I said.
We both kind of stood in the middle of the floor, watching, and then we started moving around, trying to look like everyone else. It was more fun than I thought it would be. Then someone put on some slow music. Jason looked as worried as I felt, but he had one arm around my waist and took my hand in his other hand. Everyone else was dancing real close, but the only parts of our bodies that were touching were hand to hand, hand to waist, hand to shoulder. Jason’s hand was kind of damp, and it felt small, almost breakable. I guess I’d never even touched a boy my own age. Daddy’s hands felt strong and dependable. And Fred Sloane’s hands felt rough and forceful. When I noticed that Jason was nervous, I was more relaxed. He seemed safer, and less of a mystery to me.
When we left the dance floor we went to get some punch, then sat down on the couch by the fireplace.
“You weren’t at school Friday,” Jason said.
“No, I wasn’t,” I agreed. Then we both just sat there, sipping our punch. After this eternally long silence, I finally thought of something to say.
“Want some potato chips?”
“Yeah, let’s get some,” Jason said. So we walked back to the table. I managed to sneak a look at the clock. It was only 9:00. I hoped Mom’s watch would be a little bit fast. I looked over at Mandy and Eric, standing by the window. They were talking and laughing. I wondered how Mandy did it. Jason and I hardly said anything more until he said good night to me as we were leaving. But the next morning, in my locker, there was this note that said, “I like you,” and it was signed “J.B.” for Jason Bartel.
Chapter
12
I was glad to be at school Monday morning. So much had happened to me in such a short time, I felt all confused. Only four days ago, Thursday night, Fred Sloane had come home early from bowling and cornered me. I hadn’t even figured out how I felt about all of that when I had to try to explain it to Daddy, and then to Mom. It seemed as if what had been a big secret for months had just exploded, and all of a sudden lots of people were involved. Every time I looked at Mom or Daddy now, it was like they were seeing me differently, maybe worrying more, or wondering what other secrets I had. Anyway, at school I could just coast through the day. I was coasting first period when I heard Marlow call my name. Everyone was looking at me. I felt my face get hot.
“Daydreaming, Cassie?” Mr. Marlow asked. “Perhaps you could answer my question now.”
Mandy poked me in the back. “Indirect object,” she whispered.
“Indirect object,” I told Marlow.
“That’s correct, Cassie. Would you explain your answer, please?”
Explain the answer! I didn’t even know what question we were on. My face just got hotter and hotter. Finally Marlow said, “Well, Mandy, how about if you explain Cassie’s answer for her?”
On the way to gym Mandy started talking about what a jerk Marlow was for putting people on the spot like that.
“I guess I just wasn’t listening,” I said.
Mandy laughed. “Weren’t listening? You were not only out to lunch, you were out to breakfast and dinner, too.”
Good old Mandy. I could always depend on her to give me an honest opinion.
“You were real quiet last night at the party, too,” she said.
“I never know what to say. I’m always quiet at parties.”
“Yeah, but not that quiet. It was okay, I guess, because Jason really likes you.” Then she went on and on about how great Eric was ― how cute, how much fun, how he said he’d call her that night.
We walked into the gym and got our graying gym clothes out of our locker. My blouse didn’t smell very good, but neither did Mandy’s.
“You really are kind of quieter than usual. Is everything all right?”
“I guess so,” I said. “It’s just that a lot happened over the weekend.”
“Yeah,” Mandy agreed. “What a weekend! I filled three pages in my diary just last night. Wasn’t it a great party?”
“It was better than I thought it’d be,” I told Mandy.
She looked at me suspiciously. “So what else happened to you over the weekend?”
“Oh, just some stuff with my folks. Come on, we’d better get out on the field before the bell rings.”
We jogged out to the softball diamond. Ms. Strobel wasn’t there yet, so we flopped down on the grass to wait for roll call.
“I don’t mean to be nosy, Cassie, but we are best friends, aren’t we?”
I gave Mandy our secret handshake, invented by us in the third grade, and smiled. She crossed her eyes, pulled on her ears, and stuck out her tongue. I pretended to thread a needle, then began sewing my fingers together. We laughed and snorted and threw grass at each other. I know Mandy and I will always be best friends because we can always act like little kids together.
At lunchtime we took our sandwiches and sat on the front steps of the school. Eric eats there sometimes, and Mandy wanted to just happen to be there in case he showed up.
I took my cucumber and cheese sandwich on sprouted wheat bread from my sack lunch, and opened my thermos of low fat milk. Mandy took her bologna and catsup sandwich on white crustless bread and her can of soda. I thought of Mom and her theories of health. Mandy ate whatever she wanted, just like Lisa did, and neither one of them was ever sick, or had pimples, or anything. Not that I was really hungry for a bologna and catsup sandwich, but I did wish for a Hostess Twinkie in my lunch sometimes.
“So what’s happening at your house?” Mandy asked.
“My parents are all upset about something that happened to me.”
“What?”
“It’s kind of a secret. You have to promise not to tell anyone.”
“I’m not a blabbermouth,” she said, then admitted, “Well, yeah, I am a blabbermouth, but not with secrets.”
“And you can’t let my parents know that you know,” I told her.
“I won’t,” she promised. She took the Twinkie out of her lunch bag, broke it in half and handed half to me. I wanted to tell her. I just didn’t know where to start.
I remembered the time in the fourth grade when Mandy and I were walking from school to a Bluebird meeting and she started crying. She told me her father and mother were getting a divorce, and her father wouldn’t be living with them anymore, and how unhappy she was. And I remembered how once when Robbie was only about two and seemed to be the only one my parents cared about, I told Mandy I wished Robbie would get sick and die, and she stay
ed my friend anyway, even after she knew how mean I really was.
“You know the Sloanes who live near us?” I asked.
She nodded. “Sure. I even babysat at their house once last summer, when you were away. Remember?”
“Well, Mr. Sloane, Fred, was getting all weird with me.”
Once I started it was easy to tell Mandy the whole story. Well, almost the whole story. I couldn’t exactly tell her about all my feelings because I was still confused about some stuff. But I told her about everything that happened, including the awful fight with Mom, and Angie saying I needed to see a psychologist.
Mandy was quiet for a while. Then she told me, “Something kind of strange happened the time I babysat there, too.”
“What?”
Mandy frowned. “It happened so fast, it’s almost like it didn’t happen at all, but now I really wonder,” she said.
“So what was it?”
“Well ... when Mr. Sloane took me home, he got out of the car and walked me to my door. He held money out, to pay me, and when I reached for it he dropped it. We both bent to pick it up, and then he reached out and sort of brushed his hand across my, you know ... my chest. And then he turned around and walked away. I was so surprised, I just stood there. And then I thought, ‘This didn’t happen.’ I mean it was so strange.”
“I bet it happened for sure,” I told Mandy. “But I kind of thought that at first, too, that it couldn’t really be happening.”
“He must be some kind of creep,” Mandy said. “I hate to babysit anyway, so I knew I’d never go back there. I didn’t even think about it again ’til just now. What’s with him anyway, I wonder?”
“Hi, Mandy.” It was Eric. “I looked for you out at the lunch tables,” he smiled. Mandy flashed her winning smile back at him.
“Cassie and I came out here for a little private conversation,” she said in her most sophisticated voice.
“Well come on, I’ll walk you to class,” he told her.
“To be continued,” Mandy said to me. “I’ll see you after school.”
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