by S. Walden
“Oh my God,” Cadence whispered. The panic was immediate. “What happened?”
Mark slammed the door and started the engine. “Car accident.”
“Oh my God.”
“One of his friends died,” Mark went on.
“What?!”
“Charlie. I think his name’s Charlie. He was driving. They were wasted.” Mark pulled out of the parking lot and headed for Northside Hospital.
“WHAT?!”
“I spoke with your mother over the phone. She was hysterical. She tried to call you.” He flashed her an angry look. “Where the hell have you been?”
“I was with Carrie,” she said absently. She couldn’t process anything he’d just told her. She couldn’t invoke what she thought should be an appropriate response to the information. She should be bawling hysterically, but her eyes were bone dry.
“Getting drunk?” he spat.
She ignored him. “What else do you know?”
“Nothing. I told you everything I know.”
Mark tossed a bag on her lap. She hadn’t noticed him carrying anything.
“Get yourself together,” he barked as he turned onto Roswell Road. His tone held a degree of disgust.
Her hand shook as she pulled down the visor and flipped the mirror open. She didn’t want to look at herself. She knew she was a hung-over mess. She didn’t want to look so disheveled when she saw Ollie for the first time. It was shameful and insulting, so she opened the bag to see what Mark had packed to help her look respectable.
She cleaned her eyes first, gliding the makeup-removing cloth over the smudged blackness of her liner and mascara. She used the mouthwash next, but she had nowhere to spit it, so she swallowed instead. It burned her throat, much like the vodka she drank the night before. She brushed the knots out of her hair and pulled it into a ponytail. She noticed a fresh shirt in the bag, and changed out of her smoke-laden one, ignoring the passengers in passing cars staring at her.
She closed the bag and sat back in her seat.
“Will he be all right?” She hadn’t asked earlier because she was too scared of the answer.
“Yes,” Mark replied.
She sighed relief, clutching the door handle because her body was shaking, and she didn’t know how to stop it.
She followed Mark down the hospital corridor for Oliver’s room. Mr. Miller opened the door. He nodded and moved aside, allowing Cadence in first. She ran to her brother’s bed, and he smiled when he saw her.
“Ollie,” she breathed, grabbing his hand. Her knuckles grazed the IV, and he hissed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, sitting down beside him carefully. She never looked at her father. She was unaware that her mother was in the room.
“I’m an idiot,” he said.
Cadence shook her head.
“I am,” he insisted.
He spoke like it was a stupid skateboarding accident. Like he shouldn’t have run that rail because it was too steep, and he knew he’d break his arm. Did he not know about Charlie?
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Cadence said.
“I drank. I got drunk. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have said it was okay for Charlie to drive. How is he?”
Cadence looked at her dad for the first time. He shook his head ever so slightly, and she turned back to her brother.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I think I heard he’s fine.”
She hated the way her lie sounded. She hated that she had to do it. But they were all aching for his recovery, and a lie would help it along faster. What did it matter who lied?
“We’re in big trouble, Cay,” Oliver said.
“No you aren’t. You’re not in trouble.”
He nodded, unconvinced. “Big, big trouble. Will I have to go to juvie like you?”
Cadence cringed. “No, Ollie. No one’s sending you to juvie.”
“I’m tired of my life,” he said.
She smiled sadly. “You’re too young to be tired of your life.”
“I miss Kim.”
“I know you do.”
“I think I need a change.”
“Don’t we all?” She looked him over. His head was wrapped. His eye was bruised shut. He had a deep gash in his cheek, freshly stitched. His arm was broken.
“I was knocked out,” he said after a moment. “I don’t remember anything.”
“You don’t need to remember it,” Cadence replied. But she knew at some point he would. He would recall little pieces here and there until he could put the puzzle together. It may not be a whole picture, but it would be enough to give him a memory. A bad one.
“Will you stay the night with me?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“Will you tell Mom and Dad to go away?”
Cadence tensed. “I don’t know, Ollie. They’re worried about you just as much as I am.”
“Will you tell them to go away at night? I just want you here.”
She agreed and looked at her father once more. He nodded as the tears fell.
Mrs. Miller raised hell when nighttime rolled around. She urged her husband to fight Cadence, force her to let them stay. Cadence never saw her mother so angry. She tried to talk to her—explain that it was Oliver’s decision—but Mrs. Miller ignored her on the way out the door.
Mark left after he dropped off dinner. Cadence needed time alone with her brother, and he hoped their conversation would change her heart. Maybe soften it. Maybe allow her to recognize her own self-destructive behavior and gather the courage to walk away from it.
“Did you really mean what you said?” Cadence asked.
“What did I say?” Oliver replied.
“That you’re tired of your life?”
Oliver nodded. “I’m unhappy. And none of this crap I’m doing is helping at all. Just a temporary fix.”
“Most sixteen-year-olds aren’t smart enough to recognize that,” Cadence pointed out.
“Yeah. Most nineteen-year-olds aren’t either.”
“Clever.”
“Wasn’t trying to be,” Oliver said.
“So what? Now you have the authority to tell me to get my life together because you’re lying in a hospital bed?”
“That’s usually how it goes,” Oliver replied.
Cadence laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“You wanna end up in a hospital bed?”
“No.”
“All right then.”
“It’s not like I’m out of control or anything,” Cadence argued.
“Cay, I’m not a freaking idiot. I know you’re being reckless. And I get it. You’re lashing out because you’re angry with Mark just like I lashed out at Mom and Dad because I was angry with them.”
“You’re perceptive.”
“Nobody has to be perceptive to see that. It’s, like, totally obvious,” Oliver said.
“So you aren’t mad at Mom and Dad anymore?”
“Of course I’m mad. I’m pissed at them. But I was hurting myself over it. And you’re doing the same thing. I mean, look at you. You’re a mess.”
Cadence looked down at her shirt. “I am?”
“Everything about you. You look like shit, Cay. I’m just being honest. You’re ugly.”
“Like an ugly heart?”
“No, I mean you’re just plain ugly. Bags under your eyes. Aren’t girls supposed to put lotion and shit on their faces?”
Cadence cupped her cheeks with her hands.
“You’re all sallow-looking,” Oliver observed.
“Sallow? How the hell do you even know that word?”
“I’m smarter than you. I’ve always been smarter than you,” he replied.
She rolled her eyes. “I suppose I’m slightly sallow.”
“You’re off-the-charts sallow. You used to be really pretty. What happened to you?”
“Mark,” she replied before she could stop herself.
“Nice try. Who are you? Avery? Stop blaming him for your bad choices.�
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Cadence bristled. “He lied to me!”
“Cay, get over it. It’s not like he kept some horrible secret about being a serial killer or rapist or something. He had a wife, and she died. Why can’t you be a little more understanding?”
“He said awful things to me.”
“When you guys were arguing? Yeah. That sounds about right. Most people say awful things when they’re arguing,” Oliver explained.
“I didn’t say awful things to him,” Cadence whispered. “He made me feel like I have no worth.”
Oliver thought for a moment. “No. You’ve convinced yourself you have no worth. I know what Mark said to you, and I can understand how you would interpret it the way you did. But I know that’s not what he meant.”
“Oh yeah? How so?”
“Because I looked at the situation from his perspective.”
Cadence sighed.
“Just listen. The dude had a wife. Like, picture-perfect family. Gonna have a baby. Decorating a nursery. All that stuff. And then, bam! It’s all taken away. You think he’s looking for a new problem to solve? You think he’s looking for some complicated woman with a ton of baggage? He’s got enough baggage, Cay.”
“He said I have a non-history.”
“You’re nineteen. You do.”
“Oliver! I went to juvie! I’ve got some experiences!”
“Fair enough. But that’s not losing your wife.”
Cadence bristled. “I wasn’t aware we were putting degrees of importance on our experiences.”
“Calm the fuck down. All I want is for you to get some perspective. He doesn’t think you have a non-history.”
“But that’s what he said.”
“We all say stupid shit, Cay. He was angry. He didn’t mean it. You’re, like, the most important thing to him. It’s vomit-inducing, actually—how much he loves you.”
Cadence said nothing.
“He said it out of anger, and that’s wrong. He was wrong. He didn’t mean it. You’ve got to forgive him,” Oliver said.
Cadence scowled. “So what? You’re all grown up now?”
“More than you.”
“Is this what happens when people experience trauma? They have these ultra-mature epiphanies?”
“I guess so. I mean, look at me. I’m the freaking Dalai Lama over here.”
Cadence snorted.
“And I’m trying to help out Mark.”
“Can we talk about something else?”
“Well, if you wanna talk about me, then you can forget it,” Oliver said. “I’m done. I’m telling Charlie, Pete, all of them that I can’t be doing all that fooling around anymore. I don’t have time for it.”
“Were you doing it a lot?”
“Yes.”
“Drinking and getting high?”
“Yes.”
“Were you getting bad grades?”
“Yes.”
“Were you getting in trouble at school?”
“No.”
Cadence nodded.
“I gotta figure out how to get Kim back,” Oliver said.
“Want me to help you devise a plan?”
“Do you have one?”
“Sure. Here’s the plan,” Cadence said.
Oliver listened closely.
“Say you’re sorry.”
“Okay. And?”
“That’s it. Just say you’re sorry.”
Oliver grinned. “You’re useless.”
***
Avery stood in the open doorway with her eyebrows raised.
“My turn,” Cadence said.
“For what?”
“To apologize.”
Avery pursed her lips. “You’ve been the biggest bitch on the planet for the past month and a half.”
“I know.”
“I only tortured you for three weeks,” Avery pointed out.
Cadence cracked a smile. “I know.”
“So we’re totally not even.”
Cadence nodded.
“But because I’m so much more mature than you, I’m gonna let you in. As for forgiving you, I’m not sure yet.”
“Fair enough.”
Avery moved aside, watching Cadence like a hawk as she took a seat on Dylan’s sofa. She joined her but sat on the opposite end, as far away as she could. She folded her arms over her chest and waited. Cadence fiddled with her fingers.
“Go on already!” Avery snapped.
Cadence stopped fidgeting. “Number One: you were right about me being jealous of Mark’s wife. Not that he kept her a secret but that he had a wife at all. Because I can’t shake the idea that had nothing happened to her, I wouldn’t be with him. I know I shouldn’t think like that, but I do.”
Avery nodded.
“Number Two: I was really jealous of you and Dylan because I saw a relationship I was missing out on with my own boyfriend. I’m still angry with him, and I don’t know how to purge it. And being around you and Dylan and watching your fucking flirting just made it that much worse. Not to mention the fact that I felt like I was witnessing a repeat of my story with Mark. Doesn’t matter that you weren’t trying to live my life. That’s how it felt.”
“I know,” Avery replied. “And I didn’t even think about the flirting. I imagine it was beyond obnoxious.”
Cadence shrugged.
“I never tried to copy your life, Cadence. If anything, I thought we could have this cool story together. You know, the girls who landed older men. I was hoping it’d turn into a joke. BFFs dating BFFs. I imagine we’ll raise our kids together.”
Cadence giggled. Her laughter encouraged Avery.
“I want the whole thing to be totally embarrassing, you know? Nineteen-year-olds with 29-year-olds. Dylan and I discussed it. A club. Since you and Mark were the first, he can be the president. And you can be Secretary. Well, his secretary because that’s totally retro hot. I’ll be Treasurer because I’m good with money, and Dylan decided he’d make himself VP.”
Cadence laughed hard.
“And we’ll all grow old together and be totally annoying.” Avery waited for Cadence’s response.
“I like it,” she said. “Well, I mean I’ll like it more when I like Mark again.”
Avery bit her lip. “I don’t talk to him behind your back,” she whispered. “Not like you think. I just give him updates about where you are. I know you’re one cruel bitch right now, but I suspect a tiny part of you wants him to know that you’re okay.”
Cadence nodded automatically.
“I’m so sorry, Avery. The things I screamed at you. That embarrassing student union scene. God . . .”
“Hey, it’s all right. And anyway, we gave them one hell of a show. Those people told all their friends, and that’s kinda cool.”
Cadence smirked.
“You’re my best friend, Cay. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t a part of my life.”
It was the first time Avery called Cadence “Cay.” She called her Cay-Cay on a few occasions to be obnoxious, but never just plain old Cay. That was Cadence’s name reserved for only the most intimate relationships—like her friendship with Avery. She liked hearing Avery say her nickname.
“I thought you’d given up on me,” Cadence said.
“Never. I mean, I couldn’t be around you this last week because you were just too much, but I never thought for a second that I’d let go of you completely.”
Cadence frowned. “I laughed more last year. When we were sneaking around and getting into trouble. I remember laughing a lot more.”
Avery considered this. “Well, that’s because the shit hadn’t hit the fan yet. You know? You hadn’t been found out. Gracie hadn’t ratted on you. Your dad hadn’t assaulted you and then disowned you.”
“My life is ridiculous,” Cadence muttered.
“No, Cay. Your life is fantastic. Why do you think I tried my hardest to copy it?”
The girls looked at each other and giggled.
“You’re cute.�
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“I try. I really do,” Avery replied. “Now when are you gonna forgive Mark? Because our plan to be the most annoying club on the planet won’t work if you’re angry with him.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I’ll keep texting him updates on you until you figure it out.”
“I’m cool with that,” Cadence said.
“Yeah, I know you are because down deep you don’t wanna be upset with him anymore,” Avery said. “Just forgive him already! You need to grow the fuck up.”
“I’m trying,” Cadence snapped. “I really am.”
Avery could see it on Cadence’s face—desire to make things right battling deeply rooted resentment. She’d have to work hard to dig it out, but Avery also knew that Cadence had the strength to do it.
“I ran away,” Avery said softly.
Cadence shot her an exasperated look.
“Don’t you dare say it!” Avery squealed, and then the girls burst out laughing.
“God, why do you wanna be me so badly?!” Cadence asked between giggles.
“I know, right?” Avery replied. “I even asked Dad to punch me in the eye before I left. I said, ‘If I’m gonna do this, I’m gonna do this right.’ I didn’t have a brother to help me sneak out of the house, though.”
Cadence cracked up, and Avery took full advantage of it. Too much time had passed where there was no laughter, no joking between them, and she craved it.
“I just love you, Cadence, and I wanna be exactly like you, and do all the things you do, and go all the places you go.”
Cadence fell over onto the couch laughing.
“I was thinking of owning my own flower shop after college,” Avery said.
“Stop!” Cadence cried. She couldn’t breathe for laughing so hard.
“Well, I was,” Avery insisted. She leaned over and kissed her friend on the cheek.
Cadence grinned and wiped the tears from her eyes. She sat up and looked at Avery.
“Even my brother’s getting his act together,” she said.
“You should follow suit.”
“He found out about Charlie a few days ago,” Cadence said.
“Oh no.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t good. He went ballistic. Girls are always wanting guys to be more emotional. Why? I witnessed emotional with Oliver, and it scared the shit out of me.”
“I know what you mean. A guy crying makes me nervous and uncomfortable.”