Chapter 17
Then
“I know you’re pissed at me.” I cut the engine to the Rust Bucket and turned to my sister. “But I’m happy you came.”
“Not like I had a choice.” Frances scowled.
I was getting ready for the bonfire when Hattie-May stuck her head in our bedroom and announced that Frances was going with me.
“No,” Frances had groaned from her bed, where she’d been reading a paperback and pointedly ignoring me. “It’s the senior bonfire! It’s only for seniors.”
Hattie-May smiled. “The seniors and you, dearie.”
My elderly aunt wasn’t one to make demands, but when she did, there was no arguing. Hattie-May Robbins always got her way.
Secretly, I’d been glad. Even though I was looking forward to spending the evening with Casey, had thought about it relentlessly, in fact, if Frances was with me, she couldn’t get into trouble.
A month ago if you’d asked me about my sister finding trouble, I’d have laughed in your face. But maybe that was the problem.
Maybe I’d shoved her into a box she’d outgrown a long time ago.
This time together was another chance set things right between us.
I thought of how excited I’d been to buy her that lavender bedspread, and how it was still crumpled in the tiny back seat of the Rust Bucket.
I’d been so sure I was about to fix us. I had no way of knowing that things were about to get so much worse.
But now? Frances couldn’t ignore me all night. No one wants to stand around by themselves while everyone else has a good time.
My sister hopped out of the truck and slammed the door. I dropped the key into the cupholder, a lesson all the students had learned after a different party where a girl in my grade lost her keys in the pasture grass and had to call her dad to come pick her up.
If I had to borrow a phone and call Aunt Ruth to come and get me I’d melt into a puddle from embarrassment.
I didn’t need the Sight to know how it would play out; Ruth and Bunny rolling up with nineties pop blasting from Bunny’s Camaro.
Bunny, who’d think it all hilarious, would probably dance by the fire while Ruth gave me a talking-to in front of everyone. I cringed. No thanks.
Frances walked quickly ahead. Somewhere a radio blasted country music. When I caught up, she walked even faster, until we were both almost jogging.
“Look,” I stopped and called after her. “I know you’re mad at me but—”
“But nothing.” She whirled around. “I was happy. For maybe the first time in my entire life.”
“I know you think that,” I said. “But—”
“But. Nothing.”
“Frances, you know it wasn’t right. And you know I’d never hurt you on purpose.”
Her hands went to her hips. “Do you think I care if it’s on purpose or not? You ruined everything. Everything. We were going to be together. As soon as I was old enough, we were going to be together like a real couple.”
“For God’s sake, he’s married.” Meanwhile, she’d just gotten her braces off this year.
“So what?” Frances’s face contorted, thready blue veins popping from her temples. “He doesn’t love her—not like he loves me.”
“Did he tell you that?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “If he loves you so much, why does he want you to pass on the scholarship and miss out on the Tennessee Math & Science School? If he loves you, wouldn’t he want what’s best for you?”
My sister’s pale complexion reddened. “He wanted me to go. I’m the one who wants to stay.”
I’d never seen my sister so angry, and it should’ve been my cue to shut up. But how could she not understand?
“Okay. That makes sense. He wants you to go away to school because you’re getting too old for him. He probably has a middle schooler in mind to take your place.”
“I hate you,” Frances said, quietly, intently. “I hate you, and I know I’ve said it before, but I’m dead serious. I’ll never forgive you, Milly.” She spun and stomped down the path toward the music.
The words stunned me.
“You don’t mean that,” I called to her back.
She said nothing. I followed behind. “Frances. Please. Say you don’t mean it. I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just so angry.”
Frances stopped abruptly.
“Sister,” I pleaded with her back. “You have to believe that I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, okay? You’re my baby bird, the most important thing to me. I’d do anything for you, Frances. Anything.”
She tilted her head, like she was listening, weighing my words, then straightened her shoulders and marched away toward the sounds of the party.
My heart ached like someone had gripped it in their fist. Like it was being yanked from my chest. My hands flew to my sternum and I gasped.
Is this the death I saw? Am I dying now, right here? I forced a deep breath. Another. I kept forcing air into my lungs until the pain was behind me.
I could survive this. We could survive this.
When I got to the field, the senior class sprawled before me. Someone had driven their truck out, and a group danced in its bed to the music blasting from the cab, swaying red plastic cups filled with cheap beer over their heads. Foam sloshed down their hands and wrists.
The volleyball team was tangled together on a blanket, passing around a bottle of something harder. The scent of weed lingered in the air, immediately making me think of Hattie-May’s greenhouse.
In the middle of everything was the skeleton of the bonfire, wooden poles waiting to be lit once the sun sank below the horizon. It was early evening, and there was the smallest taste of chill in the air.
Still, it was too warm for such a massive fire. We were all going to sweat our asses off.
I searched for Frances and found her standing alone, staring at the unlit branches. She looked so pitiful, hunched forward, chin jutting.
When I turned around, Casey stood behind me, his disposable camera shoved in my face. Click. He snapped a photo. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”
“I’ll take that.” I snatched the camera from his hand.
“Hey,” he laughed. “No fair.”
He swiped for it, but I stuffed the camera in the pocket of my hoodie.
“You going to give that back or am I going to fail my project?”
“Don’t act like I didn’t warn you.”
He touched my arm, and suddenly I was aware of exactly how close we stood. For a sweet moment, all thoughts of my sister and my bad mood and even what I’d seen in the teacup were erased.
“You seem better.” His eyes searched my face, his breath minty. “Did you and Frances make up?”
“No.” I shrugged. “I guess…I’m glad you’re here.”
“Oh, you mean you aren’t going to tell me to shut up?”
“The night is young,” I said.
His smiled. His kiss would taste like peppermint…
The realization sent a wave of heat prickling up my neck, and experience said my face would soon blush the color of one of my aunt’s hothouse tomatoes if I didn’t cool it.
Jesus. Get a grip. Don’t stare at his mouth.
I looked away, eyes darting around the party—at the baseball seniors roughhousing near the keg, some theater girls line-dancing, the stoners lounging—looking anywhere but at Casey.
Eventually my gaze drifted to my sister, who was still alone, now staring down at her shoes.
Casey followed my gaze. “Speaking of Frances, what’s she doing here?”
“Hattie-May made her come with me.” I sighed. “I think she’s hoping time together will fix us.”
“Maybe Aunt Hattie is right. By the end of the night, I bet y’all are back to normal.”
“I don’t know. She’s so pissed at me.”
“Hey.” Casey pulled me even closer, wrapping me in a hug. Last year, it would’ve meant nothing, but tonight, I longed for it to mean everything. “Is she still being weird about her new school?”
I shrugged.
“Y’all will work it out. Whatever happened, y’all are sisters. She loves you.”
I looked at where Frances was standing alone, then back at Casey. “I just want to forget about it all for a little while.”
“Okay.” Casey leaned close, and his lips found my cheek, leaving behind a featherlight kiss. I’d thought every nerve ending in my body had already come alive when Casey’s arms had wrapped around me, but I’d been wrong. When his lips touched my skin, I ignited like a human firecracker.
I peered into his eyes, our noses touching. Warmth spread up my neck, reddening my cheeks, only now I didn’t care.
I wanted to kiss him more than I’d wanted anything, but the memory of our teeth bumping and everyone laughing… I was unable to move.
This felt different than last time. Like the stakes were somehow higher.
It felt important, like something you didn’t come back from. Not a kiss for spin the bottle. This felt real.
We’d been strained, but this…this could change everything for the better.
My heart pounded out the seconds. Everything was so messed up between me and Frances, but this—with Casey—it could be good if I let it. If I stopped running away and dodging it out of fear. It could be freeing and easy. And dammit, I wanted something easy.
Screw it. I leaned forward and brushed my lips against his. It was sweet, simple. Nice.
Then.
It happened.
The internal door opened and I was falling, falling, falling.
The smell of soil. The itch of leaves.
Chills erupted over my body. I’d never felt so cold in my life.
I gasped, pulling away. It had been so long since I’d lost control. Had it always felt this way? Equal parts wonderful and terrible.
Casey’s eyes popped open. “I’m sorry. I…I hope I didn’t—”
“No.” I shook my head emphatically. “No, you didn’t do anything… I…”
Casey’s brows arched.
“I got lightheaded for a minute,” I lied.
“Makes sense.” Concern flickered over his face. “I’ve been told I have that effect on people.”
When I didn’t respond, his eyes widened.
“Oh God. You know I’m teasing, right?”
“Yeah.” I forced out a laugh. “Yeah, of course, I…” My voice trailed off as I tried to make sense of what happened.
Casey stepped back, his hands finding mine. “You sure you’re okay?”
For all our years of friendship, I’d never explained to Casey about the door. Never talked to anyone about it but my aunts, and my sister, back when she’d still hoped that she’d possess the family gift.
Casey knew about tea leaves and how Hattie-May sold medicines and salves and, okay, occasionally weed to other old people, and I’m sure he’d heard the rumors. Everyone had. But that was it.
There was no way to explain to him what had just happened. I wasn’t even sure I understood it myself. “I’m fine. Really.”
Casey glanced around the pasture. “Good. I mean. I want to kiss you, but you know, only if you want me to.” His eyes locked on mine.
I smiled. Okay. Yes. We’d just kissed, but there was something about hearing him say it—he wants to kiss me!—that made everything else seem less important.
Whatever had just happened was odd, sure, but Aunt Ruth would have an answer for it. One of my first lessons was not to fear the Sight. There was no reason to run home afraid. Not with Casey’s hands and eyes on mine.
“So,” he urged. “Can I? Kiss you again?”
I nodded and he leaned close and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was minty and sweet and perfect. The Sight stayed firmly tucked away.
I leaned into him as our lips parted into new territory.
Someone stumbled into my back, pitching me off balance, and for the second time in my life, my teeth scraped against Casey’s. I spun around and glared, pinning one of the volleyball girls with my eyes.
“S-sorry,” she slurred, then tripped, sloshing beer onto my legs and shoes. “Oops.” She looked from me to Casey before shrugging and swaying back to her friends.
The spell was broken. I wiped at the beer running down my shins.
“I hate drunk people,” Casey mumbled, and I remembered what he dealt with at home. He pulled off his army jacket and handed it to me. “Here. Use this. It’s too hot, anyway.”
I mopped at my legs. When I looked up, Casey was eyeing me sheepishly. “You want to find somewhere we can be alone? It’s okay if you don’t. I get it, and—”
“Sure,” I said, meaning it with everything I had. “I have my truck.”
He smiled and this time I didn’t look away, transfixed by his perfect lips.
“Okay.” He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.
I looked around. Everyone had laughed when I’d bolted away from Casey at the last party. I didn’t want taunts or catcalling or even good-natured teasing. This moment was for us and only us.
“I’m going to my truck. You wait a few minutes, then slip away. I’ll be lying down in the bed so no one can see.”
“Did I ever tell you that you have the best ideas of anyone I know?” Casey dropped another kiss on my cheek and gave my hand a squeeze. We’d been so awkward with each other over the last three months. But this? This felt so right.
Casey walked away toward the keg, and I waited a moment, then slipped onto the shadowy path toward my truck.
I reached the Rust Bucket, and once I was sure the coast was clear, I climbed into the back, anticipation thrumming. I hadn’t cleaned out the truck bed, well, ever, but it was worse than usual since helping Aunt Hattie with a landscaping project.
I pushed aside a rusty old shovel and a rake, as well as some gardening gloves, one rubber boot, and a half-full bag of soil before lying down. Now that I was alone, doubts crept in. Is this crazy? A mistake? It didn’t feel like it. In some ways it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
So many times we’d laid on a blanket in my backyard—me and Casey and usually Frances too—looking up at the stars and telling stories. We’d been physically close hundreds of times, yet tonight felt new.
Is this how Frances felt? Even misguided, so wrong, is this what she was wrestling with? What she thought I was taking from her?
I pushed away the thought. No, it’s fine. Frances will be fine and better for being away from that scum.
Enjoying myself wasn’t a betrayal of my sister.
Soon she’d go away to her new smart-kid school and meet a genius boy and realize how much better off she was. Hell, she’d probably even thank me for not letting her screw up her life with our old-ass teacher.
Everything would work out. For now, I got to be with Casey.
Minutes later, footsteps approached, and I bit my lip as I waited. I didn’t risk sitting up.
I held my breath as the footsteps continued past the truck bed. Not Casey.
My breath escaped in a whoosh.
That’s when the driver’s side door opened, and the Rust Bucket rumbled to life.