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Authors: Melody Carlson

BOOK: Mixed Bags
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And now, here she was driving Eliza’s gorgeous Porsche while Eliza is singing her praises and wanting to be her new best friend. Life really was crazy. Still, DJ knew these positive elements would probably come with a hefty price tag. She glanced in the rearview mirror just in time to catch Taylor scowling darkly, both her arms folded across her chest, and probably plotting her next devious act of revenge.

DJ remembered what Conner had said, and as ironic as it had seemed, maybe he was right. Maybe Taylor really was jealous of her. And maybe DJ had better start watching her backside a little bit better.

“DeSIree,” SaID Inez
as the four girls came into the house. “Your grandmother told me to speak to you as soon as you got back.”

“Is something wrong?” asked DJ as she followed Inez into Grandmother’s office.

“The new girls are here.” Inez had an unreadable expression. “Rhiannon will room with Taylor.”

“Yes, I know that.” DJ couldn’t help but feel sorry for Rhiannon. How long would it be before Taylor would sink her claws into that poor girl? Just the fact that Rhiannon had absolutely no money, came from an unimpressive family, and owned no designer wardrobe would give Taylor plenty of ways to torment her.

But DJ knew that Rhiannon was strong. Even in the worst of circumstances, that girl seemed to come out of things okay. Like when she had to clean house just to make enough money to help her mom pay the rent, Rhiannon never complained. She told DJ once that her strength came from her faith in God. But DJ thought it was probably something more. Maybe it was simply because Rhiannon was a truly good person. Still, the thought of Rhiannon, the angel, rooming with Taylor, the devil…well, it was a little disturbing.

“And Miss Atwood is here.”

“Casey?” said DJ happily. It didn’t escape her notice that Inez differentiated between Casey and Rhiannon. Just because Rhiannon had worked here, she didn’t call her Miss Farley. But Casey was Miss Atwood. It figured.

“She’s in your room.”

“Is that it?” DJ felt impatient. “Is that all Grandmother wanted to tell me?”

“Well, uh, there is some concern over Miss Atwood.”

“Concern?” DJ frowned. “Is Casey okay?”

“That’s what’s troubling your grandmother, Desiree. She said that Casey does not seem to be herself. I believe those were her words. And she’s hoping that you can help.”

“Help?”

“You know, just talk to your friend. Find out what’s wrong.”

“Why are you so sure that something’s wrong?”

Inez shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m talking for your grandmother.”

“Where is she anyway?” demanded DJ. “She can’t possibly still be napping at this hour.”

“No. General Harding stopped by shortly after she got up. They went to town…for…”

“For drinks,” DJ finished for her. “It figures. All the girls are here, and my grandmother is off drinking martinis with the general.”

Inez chuckled. “I’m sure you can fill in for her, Desiree.”

“Yeah, right.” She shook her head. “I’m going to see Casey now.”

DJ was curious as she went up the stairs. She wondered what the problem with Casey could be. Maybe she was depressed. Or perhaps just worried about this move. She’d never been a girl to like change. DJ remembered when Casey’s mom had painted her room mint green and replaced bedding and curtains while Casey had spent the weekend at DJ’s house. It was kind of a like an episode on
While You Were Out.
DJ had thought it was great, but Casey had thrown a fit when she’d seen it. She’d said it wasn’t her room anymore. She wanted her mom to change it back. But eventually she got used to it. DJ thought she even decided she liked it after awhile.

And surely, Casey would be happy to see DJ. They had been friends for, like, forever. And now they would be roommates. They could share secrets and create a life that was separate from the fashion-crazy world of Carter House. Maybe Casey would want to go out for volleyball. And DJ could tell her all about Conner and their first kiss. Casey would totally get that.

It seemed as if the playing field was leveling just now. DJ had felt like such an outsider since the other girls had arrived. Eliza, Taylor, and even Kriti were all from fairly wealthy families, totally into fashion, and a little on the snooty side. But now there was Rhiannon, who was poor by any standards, and Casey who was plain old middle class, and that placed DJ pretty much in the middle of this group. It seemed a good place to be.

“Casey?” said DJ as she opened the door to her room. There were bags and things littered about, as if someone had hurriedly dumped them and left. But the bathroom door was shut. “Casey?” she called again. “You in there?”

“Coming,” said a grumpy-sounding voice.

“It’s me, DJ!”

The door opened and a girl emerged. At least DJ thought it was a girl. Her hair was cut short, and it was sticking up in all directions. She had on a black T-shirt with a skull on the front. And instead of the strawberry blonde hair that DJ remembered, this person’s hair was jet black except for a section in the center that stuck straight up like a Mohawk and was dyed electric blue.

“Casey?”

The girl frowned. “You don’t remember me?”

“Of course, I remember you. You just look different.” Now DJ stared at the thick black circles of eyeliner that made Casey’s brown eyes look very dark and rather raccoon-like.

“You have a problem with that?”

DJ cringed as she noticed that Casey also had a safety pin pierced through the edge of each of her eyebrows. “Ouch, didn’t that hurt?”

“What?”

DJ pointed to a silver pin.

Casey shrugged. “Yeah, it hurt.” Then she stuck out her tongue to reveal that it was pierced too. “That hurt more.”

DJ frowned. “Then why did you do it?”

“Cuz I wanted to.” Casey narrowed her eyes and turned away.

“Oh…” It was all sinking in now. This was why DJ’s grandmother had been upset, why she’d told Inez to talk to DJ. Perhaps even why she’d gone off to consume martinis with the general. But, surely, Grandmother didn’t expect DJ to sort this all out.

“You look shocked,” said Casey as she flopped onto the window seat, folding her arms across her chest. That spot had previously been DJ’s favorite place to sit in the room. She felt slightly disoriented.

“I’m a little surprised.”

“Well, get over it.”

Now DJ sat down at the foot of her bed, across from Casey. “So, was your mom okay with all this? I mean aren’t your parents kind of conservative?”

“That’s an understatement. They are so uptight and paranoid over appearances that they’ve been totally freaked. That’s why I’m here, you know. They’re too embarrassed to have me around anymore. They quit making me go to church with them when I pierced my eyebrows. Just because they were so mortified.” She laughed. “It’s one way to get out of going to church.”

DJ nodded with what she hoped was an expression of empathy. And she could actually understand this, although probably not from Casey’s perspective. The fact was, although she would never admit it, she might be embarrassed to be seen with Casey too. “That’s too bad,” she said simply.

“So, here I am.” Casey held out her hands as if she were helpless, but this gesture revealed a dark tattoo-like image on her wrist.

“Did you get tattoos too?”

“No, not permanently anyway. Although I plan to, if I can get some cash together.” She pushed up the sleeve on her left arm to reveal a long black dragon, complete with claws and fire and a spiky tail. “I drew this on the flight out here. The woman next to me was totally disgusted.” She laughed. “Oh, she didn’t say anything—she didn’t need to—I could just tell.”

“You’re a good artist,” observed DJ. Okay, it wasn’t her style of art, but it was well-done. “Did you meet the other girl that arrived today? Rhiannon?”

Casey groaned and rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. That girl actually started preaching at me. She was telling me how the dragon was a biblical sign in the book of Revelation and blah, blah, blah…I actually had to tell her to shut up.”

“You told her to shut up?”

“Yes. Then I told her I was practically raised in a church, and that there was nothing she could tell me that I hadn’t already heard.”

“Oh.”

“And that shut her up,” said Casey.

“Well, Rhiannon is pretty committed to her church.”

“What an idiot.”

“She’s actually kind of nice,” said DJ.

“You know her?”

“Yes. She did housekeeping for my grandmother last spring. Her mom was in this crummy divorce and not doing too well. Rhiannon was trying to earn enough money for them to stay in their house. But they had to move anyway.”

“Oh…”

“And, according to Rhiannon, her church was the only thing she could count on. Her mom had a, uh, a problem…and Rhiannon found comfort in going to church. She’d only been going there for a year.”

“She went to church of her own free will?” Casey asked.

“Yeah. Her mom didn’t want anything to do with it,” said DJ.

“That is weird,” said Casey.

DJ wanted to point out that it wasn’t quite as weird as Casey’s dark transformation. Now that was weird.

“So, if Rhiannon is so poor that they couldn’t stay in their house, why is she even here? I thought the Carter House was just for rich witch girls.”

DJ considered this. She knew that her grandmother didn’t want this to be known, but how could they keep Rhiannon’s poverty a secret. “My grandmother has an arrangement with Rhiannon’s mom.”

Casey kind of laughed. “Maybe Rhiannon’s mom sold her into slavery to your grandmother, and you just don’t know it yet.”

Surprisingly, DJ almost wanted to defend her grandmother. But she didn’t. “This is my bed,” she said, getting up to remove some of the things from the other bed. Things that Eliza had given her this morning. She wasn’t sure what to do with them, or if she even wanted to keep them after all that had transpired. Still, she and Eliza had seemed okay when it was all said and done. In some ways, Eliza seemed safer than her old friend Casey right now. Was she really going to share her room with a girl who looked like she might sneak out to worship Satan in the middle of the night?

“You’ve changed too,” said Casey.

She could feel Casey watching her as she dumped the pile of clothes onto her own bed and began to sort them. “I guess we all change,” DJ said as she held up a cool pair of jeans. They were much better looking than her old favorites. Hopefully they would fit. “Change is just part of growing up.”

“Did your grandma tell you that my parents were going to send me to boot camp?”

“Boot camp? Like in the army?”

“No, like for juvenile delinquents.”

DJ turned around and studied Casey now. “Does that mean you’re a criminal?” She actually did resemble a juvenile delinquent.

Casey shrugged. “Guess it depends on how you define
criminal.
I’ve broken the law, but who hasn’t?”

DJ considered this. She didn’t think she’d ever broken the law. Although she had felt guilty when stopped by the police today. Although she hadn’t been drinking, she was with others who had been. Being underaged, they had broken the law. Did that mean she was in the wrong just because she was with them?

“I really need a shower,” she told Casey as she held out her still damp and saltwater-soaked blouse. “I took a little dip in the ocean—with my clothes on—and it’s feeling kinda gross now.”

Casey waved her hand. “Go ahead. Don’t let me stop you.”

“I’m sure we’ll have all kinds of time to catch up,” said DJ in a voice that sounded falsely cheerful. “Sharing a room and all.” Then she grabbed up a couple of things from the pile of Eliza hand-me-downs and took them into the bathroom with her. As she showered, DJ remembered how she had planned to tell Casey all about Conner and her salty first kiss. For some reason, she knew that talk wasn’t going to happen now. She had no idea what had happened to Casey or why she wanted to look like that—why she wanted to stick safety pins through her eyebrows or a hole in her tongue—but it made no sense. It was like self-inflicted pain. Why would someone do that?

DJ had experienced enough pain during the past few years, starting with her parents’ divorce when she was thirteen, followed up by her mom’s death just a year ago, and finally being rejected by her dad in exchange for his new family. All that was enough to make her want to avoid pain for a long, long time, if not forever. Even the painful emotional events from the past couple of days, which were small in comparison to the rest of her life, were more than she cared to go through again.

She dried off, and then tried on several of the pieces Eliza had given to her. The jeans seemed to fit pretty well. She noticed that the brand was called True Religion, and she had to wonder what was up with that. But the jeans were cool, and from what she could see from the mirror above the sink, they looked good on her. After trying on a couple of things, she topped the jeans with a pale yellow blouse bearing a label that said Tocca. This didn’t mean anything to her either. But she decided to try to remember these names. After all, it wasn’t that big of a deal. And if she had to live with girls like Eliza and Kriti, and even the despicable Taylor, it wouldn’t hurt to learn to speak their language. It didn’t mean that she was like them, but simply that she was trying to get along.

Okay, she knew this shifting of position had something to do with her new roommate and old friend. And she wasn’t even sure why that was, but for some reason it suddenly seemed important. It also seemed important to look her best, and that seemed to have to do with Conner. She looked at herself in the mirror, remembering how he had called her beautiful. But that was after she’d been sweating and swimming and probably looked somewhat natural. She still had some of the cosmetics that Eliza had helped her with this morning. And she did apply some of the moisturizer to her face, but other than a little mascara and lip gloss, she thought maybe she was good to go. Not that she necessarily expected to see Conner tonight, but after the talk of movies, she thought there was a slim chance.

“That’s better,” said DJ as she emerged from the bathroom.

Casey frowned from where she was still slumped in the window seat. “Your boyfriend called.”

DJ blinked. “What?”

“Your boyfriend. He called on your cell. I heard it ringing, and I went ahead and answered it for you.”

“Oh.” DJ glanced over to her Hermès with the phone now placed on top of it. “And?”

“And he said to call.”

“Okay.” But DJ didn’t want to call Conner while Casey was listening. And yet, she didn’t want to make Casey feel bad.

“Aren’t you going to call Lover Boy back?”

This made DJ mad. But she didn’t show it. Instead she called Conner. “Hey,” she said. “I hear you called.”

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