He nodded but didn’t smile. Micah was wearing his Yankees cap, but with the brim facing front like normal. He used to always wear it backward, before everything happened. It was kind of his trademark. But he didn’t anymore. Violet thought it was because he was trying to say he wasn’t the same person.
He was holding a basketball, which he now spun nervously as his gaze traveled from Violet to Casey. “Hey, Casey,” he said.
“Micah,” Casey responded, but she kept her eyes on the dog. She gestured to Violet. “You know Violet? Your neighbor?” There was a tone of sarcasm in her voice, and Violet wished she’d shut up. She didn’t want Micah to associate her with Casey’s hard feelings about him. She didn’t want him to think she shared them.
“Sure,” he said, and nodded at Violet again. This was the most interaction they’d had since one time last year when he had a whole conversation with Sean Withers at the locker next to hers, and she pretended she couldn’t find her book just so she could smell his cologne for a few moments longer. When he’d walked away, their eyes had met. He’d looked into her eyes and said “Hey,” and she swore her heart had literally skipped a beat.
“Y’all wanna go out through my backyard?” he asked now. He dipped his chin in the direction of Violet’s house and gave them a cryptic grin. “Not like you can go back that way.”
“Yeah,” Casey said. “We kinda got trapped.” Her voice sounded like she’d forgotten she was mad at him.
Micah rolled his eyes. “I know how that feels,” he said, and Violet saw Casey’s eyes flash as she remembered that Micah Berg was her enemy.
“Is there, like, a fence back there we have to climb over?” Violet hurried to ask before Casey could say something mean.
“There is,” Micah answered. “But I can show you how you can walk around it, cut through the next-door neighbor’s yard. They don’t mind.”
“OK, that would be great,” Violet said, sounding childish and stupid to her own ears. But if she kept talking, then hopefully Casey wouldn’t.
Chipper had flopped down at Micah’s feet, and he roused the dog with the same low whistle she often heard through her open window at night. “Come on, Chip, let’s show these ladies out.”
The boy and the dog started walking, and the girls fell into step as they followed them toward the backyard. But this time Violet didn’t watch Casey’s ponytail as they walked. She watched the back of Micah Berg’s head, committing this moment to memory so she could relive it again and again in the days to come. It was a comfort to be this close to Micah Berg, to have exchanged words with him and be properly introduced. In a desert, she thought, you’re grateful for every drop of water you can find.
Casey
They walked into the house to find Nicole sitting in the front room waiting for them. She hopped up like a jack-in-the-box as soon as the door opened. “Where were you?” she asked, a note of betrayal in her voice.
Casey answered calmly. “We went for a walk.” What she wanted to say was, None of your damn business. But that would only stir up the old sibling rivalry. Casey was older now, a college student, above such trivial things. Even if she was still angry at Nicole for what she had said about Violet’s mother; Nicole was supposed to be Violet’s best friend. Talk about insensitive. About as insensitive as Micah Berg—the asshole—comparing his situation to Violet’s. Violet had done nothing wrong. But Micah had done plenty. Why was it that lately all Casey did was run across asshole guys who didn’t accept responsibility for their actions?
Violet said, “There’s a bunch of reporters in front of my house, so we hid in Micah Berg’s yard. And he found us there. It was so embarrassing.” Casey looked over at Violet, wondering why she was being nice to Nicole after what she had said. She needed to help this girl out, teach her the ways of the world before it trounced her good.
“Micah Berg? Really?” Nicole said.
Violet nodded, biting back a smile.
Nicole looked from Casey to Violet, and Casey could see her sister’s wheels turning. “You’re still obsessed with him?” She delivered the line with the practiced cut of a samurai. She looked to Casey, her eyes flashing with pleasure as if she expected her big sister’s praise for being unnecessarily mean to her best friend.
“I was never obsessed with him,” Violet said, but her voice was shaking as she said it.
Nicole rolled her eyes dramatically. “You’re practically his stalker. Or did you stop stalking him after he killed someone?”
“Nicole Eileen Strickland!” Casey yelled. “What the hell has gotten into you? Violet is our guest.” She knew she sounded just like their mother, but she couldn’t help herself. She clenched her hands into fists to keep from going after her sister, slapping and scratching and pulling hair like she would’ve done a few years ago.
On cue, their mother came into the room, drying her hands on a dish towel and looking perplexed. “Girls!” she said. “What is going on in here? You haven’t been around each other in weeks. How can you already be fighting?”
“Mom,” Casey said, “Nicole was just so rude to Violet. You would’ve been appalled.”
Nicole turned to their mother and crossed her arms in front of herself as she tossed her hair dramatically. It occurred to Casey that her sister had turned pretty while she was away at school. She had also turned into a prima donna.
Choking back tears, Nicole said, “I know you said to be nice to her because of everything she has going on but I just . . . I can’t, Mommy. I’m sorry.” She began to cry in earnest, then ran from the room, leaving Casey to wonder which her Nicole was referring to and also puzzling over her sister referring to their mother as Mommy.
She glanced over at Violet, who looked completely shell-shocked. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “My sister is apparently crazy now.”
Their mother hurried to defend her younger child. “She’s just having a bit of a hard time with the . . . nature of what’s happening here. It’s a lot of change in one afternoon. I’ll go talk to her, and I’m sure we can smooth this over. Plus, I’ve got something for you, Violet. Something from your mom.”
“My mom?” Violet asked, and the tone of hope in her voice hurt Casey’s heart.
“A note,” Bess said. “Her attorney dropped it by. I’ll go get it.” She turned to leave the room, but Violet’s voice stopped her.
“Mrs. Strickland, I appreciate the place to stay, but I think it might be best if I called my stepmom to come get me.”
Casey waited for her mother to put her foot down, to tell her, Nonsense, you can’t leave. We’ll fix this. Instead she watched as her mother’s shoulders dropped in the defeated stance of one who had given up without a fight. “If that’s what you think is best,” she said, and then scurried out of the room like the mouse that she was.
“You don’t have to go,” Casey said, and she could hear the desperation in her voice, the need to fix what had just occurred right in front of her.
Violet turned to look at her. “Of course I do.” Their eyes met, and Casey was struck with the sudden awareness that Violet was the wisest person there.