Be Not Afraid (13 page)

“Oh, Dawn and Krista?” Cassie threw another dress on the bed. It was short, crimson colored, with thick straps that crisscrossed in the back. “Didn’t I tell you? They both texted me on the way home. They forgot they had tutoring after school. They can’t come.”

“Oh.” I stood there awkwardly, the hem of the dress still in my hands. That hadn’t been the deal. Cassie had said there would be four of us coming to her house after school. “Well, are you sure you don’t want this one anymore?”

“Totally.” Cassie walked over and sat down on her bed. She reached for one of the black and white throw pillows arranged like dominoes across a matching comforter and hugged it to her chest. “My mother went out and bought it for me last year after my shrink told her that he thought I had dyslexia.”

“Dyslexia?”

“Yeah, you know. When you see some words backward instead of forward? Apparently I’ve had a mild case of it since before I even started to read, but my parents never noticed.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I don’t see words backward exactly. Some of them just look jumbled up a little. Like someone went”—she made a scrubbing motion with one hand—“like that to them. Switched ’em all up.” She shrugged. “That’s why I’m in Mrs. Randol’s class every
morning now with all the rest of the retards. Actually, it’s not too bad. More a pain in the ass than anything.” She studied me, waiting for my reaction, but I said nothing. “Go ahead! If that one fits, I have another one just like it you can have. Let’s see what it looks like. Try it on!”

I hesitated. “Right here?”

“Well, yeah.” Cassie shrugged. “It’s just us. You’re not
embarrassed
or anything, are you?”

I looked away. Embarrassed or not, there was no way I was going to take my clothes off in front of this girl; aside from the sudden revelation about her dyslexia, I still only knew her for all of ten minutes. Plus, it was weird. I never undressed in front of anyone. Ever. “Can I just use your bathroom?” I asked.

Cassie opened her mouth as if she were about to object, and then closed it again. “All right,” she said. “Whatever. Just don’t touch anything.”

The bathroom, which was directly off the bedroom, was bigger than Nan’s kitchen. I steadied myself against the marble sink as I slipped off my shoes and wriggled out of my jeans. The mirror above the sink was as big as my bureau back home; bordered with white lightbulbs the size of tomatoes, it looked like something out of a movie star’s dressing room. The faucet was gold, the sink molded like a shell. I had just taken off my T-shirt when another door, on the opposite side of the bathroom, opened a crack.

I gasped, clutching my T-shirt against the front of my
chest, but Cassie stepped inside and pressed a finger to her lips. “I’m … I’m not done yet,” I stammered.

“That’s all right.” She looked me over, taking in the worn bra Nan had gotten me at JCPenney last summer, and then hitched herself up along the surface of the sink. “I just need to ask you something.”

An uneasiness settled over my shoulders, and I shivered, as if a cold wind had blown into the room. I understood then that the invitation to come to Cassie Jackson’s house had been a ruse, that the absent girls were in fact no accident. I was here for another reason entirely. The knowledge descended so quickly, like a plastic bag snatched over my face, that I had no time to react. No time to breathe.

Cassie swung her legs a little, holding on to the edges of the countertop with both hands. “Your mother committed suicide, didn’t she?”

The question was so shocking, and I was so unprepared for it, that I staggered backward.
“What?”

“I don’t mean to be rude. It was just something I heard from someone at school, and I want to know if it’s true.”

“That’s none of your business.” The words came out of my throat painfully, shards of glass being dragged against the skin. I was aware of my nakedness again, of standing there dressed only in my underwear, and it made me furious. I clutched at my shirt, moved quickly to retrieve my jeans.

Cassie sighed and hopped off the sink. “Oh, just
tell
me,
all right? I told you about my dyslexia. Besides, it’s important that I know.”

“You’re sick.” I grabbed my sneakers, stuck my free hand inside them. “You know that? You’re seriously—”

She was on me before I could finish, pushing me by the shoulders into the flat of the door and then holding me there. I staggered backward under the movement, dropping my clothes, freezing as Cassie’s hand closed around my throat. Her face was inches from mine, a thick strand of blond hair caught between her lips like the tail of a mouse. She grabbed at my jaw with her other hand and held it tight between her fingers. “Is. It.
True
?”

For a terrible moment, I held the girl’s gaze. Her eyes were like nothing I had ever seen before, hard and clouded, like brown and blue marbles. Her fingers tightened around my jaw, squeezing the soft skin along the inside of my teeth.
“Yes.”
I ejected the word forcibly, hatefully.

Something eased in Cassie’s face. She released her fingers, dropping her hand inch by inch, and studied me. “Good,” she said. “Then we can begin.”

“Your mom killed herself?” Dominic’s voice sounded hollow, as if something inside had emptied itself. We were sitting in his Jeep, parked fifty feet or so past the farmhouse, the only private place either of us had been able to come up with to talk. Twice, Nan had pushed back the curtains to peek at us and then disappeared behind them again.
Dominic’s hands were clasped between his knees, and his eyes roved over the side of my face.

I stared straight ahead, hoping he didn’t notice the quivering in my chin, and nodded once.

“Shit.” He turned his head again. “That must’ve been awful, Marin. I’m so sorry.”

I blinked, remembering the countless times the words
I’m sorry
had been thrown my way afterward, and the countless times I’d wanted to pick them up and throw them right back in the giver’s face. It had felt like such a trite, easy thing to say, just a small conglomeration of words that let people off the hook and meant nothing to me. Now, I realized, maybe some of them hadn’t known what else to say and this was what had come out. Maybe it was all they had.

“My grandmother did the same thing,” Dominic said. “Just a few years ago. Cassie took it really hard, probably worse than any of us. They were tight, the two of them. Like, ridiculously tight. Especially since our parents were always gone. Gram used to have Cassie over to her place all the time and took her on trips. She was always helping her with her reading, too, trying to get Cassie more into books and stuff.” He looked at me. “I probably would have gotten some kind of complex about how close they were if I hadn’t been so into sports.”

“Was she sick before she died?” I asked, remembering what Lucy had said. “Your grandmother?”

Dominic nodded, tapping the side of his head. “She was
always a little off, but she kind of lost it toward the end. Like, she started wandering through town, yelling random stuff at people. She had to be put in a hospital. On lockdown.” His face hardened. “That was where she did it.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“Thanks.” Dominic was still staring out the window. “Anyway, I interrupted you. You were right at the part where Cassie was freaking out on you in the bathroom.” He shook his head. “Go on. I mean, if you don’t mind.”

Now it was my turn to stare out the window.

Bring myself back to that place.

Again.

“Begin what?” I asked, watching Cassie with wary eyes.

“I have a secret.” Cassie brought a finger to her lips. “Shhhh … Come with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I started to put my jeans on, but Cassie reached out and grabbed me around the wrist. Her grip was like a dead bolt; her fingertips turned white.

“It won’t take long,” she said. “I promise.” I winced as her thumb ring dug into my skin. What could she possibly want from me? I twisted my arm, trying to wrench myself from her grasp. But it was no use; Cassie began to drag me toward a closet on the other side of the room.

“Let me
go
!” I yelled. “What are you doing? Are you crazy? Just let me go!” I could see her jaw clench as she
dragged me inside, her arm muscles flexed tight as cords. She began to feel around the floor molding with one hand, still holding me firmly with the other. I leaned back with my whole weight, trying to throw her off balance, anything to loosen the suffocating grip, to break free and run. “Cassie, if you don’t let go of me, I’ll scream,” I said. “I swear to God, I’ll scream so loud that—”

She cut me off, yanking my arm so hard that I fell to my knees next to her. Her mouth was twisted into an ugly snarl as she leaned in close, but I could see the slightest glimmer of hesitation in her eyes, a break in the clouds. “Don’t scream,” she said. Her voice was hoarse, a tight whisper. “No one’s going to hurt you. Nothing bad is going to happen. I just need you to do something with me. Something that no one else can do with me except you.”

I stared into her face, a picture of rage, perspiration, and anxiety, and tried to steady my breathing. “What is it?” I asked.

“You’ll see.” She refastened her grip around my wrist. It was so tight that I winced.

“You’re hurting me,” I pleaded. “You’re breaking my wrist.”

She ignored me, pushing the hems of hanging clothes aside and feeling along the baseboards. Suddenly, she stopped, her fingers settling on a small, indented button.

* * *

“Wait.” Dominic interrupted me again. “
What
little button?”

I shook my head. “The one in her closet. In the wall. Behind her clothes. You know, on the left-hand side. There was a button or something that she pushed, and part of the wall opened.”

“Part of the wall
opened
?” He looked dazed. “Are you sure?”

“What do you mean, am I sure?” My annoyance flared. “Do you seriously think I would make something like that up? Right now?”

“No, no.” He held up his hand, warding off a rabid animal. “But I … I just don’t know what you’re talking about. A button?
In
the wall? Can you show me? I mean, if we went back to my house? Could you show it to me?”

“What?”

“If we go back. Right now. To my house. If I take you up to Cassie’s room and we go in that closet, will you show me that button?”

“
You
find it,” I retorted. “I’m telling you, it’s there. You don’t need me to point it out to you.”

“Marin. It’s a walk-in closet. I don’t know if you remember, but it’s filled to the brim with shoes and clothes. I mean, I wouldn’t be able to find my way around that thing with a magnifying glass. Please.”

I glanced out the window. The front curtains stayed shut. “I don’t know. I mean … what about Cassie? Didn’t you say she was home now?”

Dominic shook his head. “Yeah, but she’s not in her
room. We had to take her upstairs. To the third floor. She’s in a room with no windows.”

I reached up, pressing three fingers against my forehead. My skin was damp despite the coolness in the air, and my fingers felt cold. “Okay,” I heard myself say. “I’ll show you where the button is. But that’s it. After that, I really have to go.”

“That’s all I need.” Dominic stuck his key into the ignition.

“I have to tell my grandmother I’m leaving.”

“Oh.” He looked startled. “Yeah, right. Of course. Sorry. I’ll wait.”

I could feel his eyes on me as I raced across the yard and opened the front door.

“Nan?” I stuck my head inside.

“Yes, angel! In the kitchen.”

I didn’t move. It was harder to lie when I had to look at her. “I’m going into town for a little bit. I won’t be long.”

“Be back for dinner, all right?”

“No problem!”

“Have fun!” Again, a singsong.

If she only knew.

“Shit,” Dominic said when I got back inside. “That was fast.”

I fastened my seat belt, moved an empty Pepsi bottle to one side of the floor with the toe of my shoe. “You say
shit
a lot, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know.” He backed up the car, resting a hand on
the side of my seat as he looked out the rear window. His fingers were inches from my face, and the dull blue shape in his wrist was still, almost as if it was resting. “It’s a bad habit, I guess. I don’t even think about it. I’ll try not to say it anymore. I mean, around you.”

“I didn’t say it bothered me.” I looked out the window, flushed by his offer. We drove in silence for a few minutes, the possibility of what was to come pressing down on us like a wall of mud. I was off and running, I realized, back on this road again despite all my efforts to stay off it. There were no directions this time either, no signs or maps to tell me if I was going the wrong way.

I was just as lost as I’d been the first time. Maybe even more so. The only difference was that now I had someone with me. Someone who could help the situation. Or make it worse.

Only time would tell.

If I had felt out of place walking into the Jackson house all those months ago as Cassie’s guest, walking in now for the second time felt borderline surreal. I had to force myself not to stop and stare at everything, astonished all over again by the obviousness of the Jacksons’ wealth. The inside of the house still looked like a museum, complete with black and white marble floors, corridor-like hallways, and an enormous chandelier that hung inside the front foyer like a glass jellyfish. A gold mirror edged with delicately hammered leaves hung at one end of the main hallway, and large oil prints depicting various ponds and trees decorated the walls.

The only normal-looking object in the house was the large, sepia-toned family portrait that hung just inside the front door. Mr. and Mrs. Jackson were standing on a white
beach behind a very young Dominic and Cassie, a cloudless sky above. I paused again, just as I had that first day, marveling at how happy they all looked with their arms around one another, hair tousled and windblown, tanned faces filled with contentment. Beneath the photograph, etched into a tiny gold plaque, was the word
FAMILY.