This Secret Thing, стр. 32
Casey’s phone rang again, and this time she didn’t seem surprised. She dug into her pocket and pulled it out. She examined the screen, shrugged, and put it back into her pocket. “I’m not talking to him right now,” she said. She looked at Violet as if it was her turn to talk.
“Talking to who?” Violet asked, more out of obligation than real interest. Violet assumed it was some suitor from her college, pining away because Casey wasn’t there.
“Eli.” Casey gave her a sly grin. “That’s who I was with today.”
This was news, and Violet could tell that Casey knew it would be. Their breakup at the end of last year had spurred almost as much gossip as Micah’s party. Eli and Casey were the couple most likely to last forever. No one—least of all Eli—had seen the breakup coming. People had their theories as to why it had happened. Some said Eli had cheated on Casey. Some said Casey just had never loved Eli, that it had all been an act and with the end of high school came the end of the act. Some speculated that one or the other or both were addicted to drugs. Some said that Casey was gay and was going to come out in college. Violet herself had wondered what had made Casey do it. But of course she’d never imagined she’d be in a position to find out.
“Why were you with Eli?” she asked, feeling her pulse rate elevate slightly as she went there, to that curious, some might say nosy, place. But why not ask? Casey had come to her, asked her for help, used her house as a place to hide from her mother. Casey had sought Violet out, not the other way around, and now it seemed like she wanted to talk about it with someone. Why not be the someone? If nothing else, it would be satisfying to know something about Nicole’s very own sister that Nicole herself had no hope of knowing. It would be nice to know a secret.
Drunk, Casey’s inhibitions were gone. They had learned about that in psych, how alcohol affected your brain, removing your “gatekeepers.” Casey didn’t seem to care that she was spilling a secret. Of course, Violet didn’t have anyone to tell, so she could do very little damage to Casey. She was, actually, a safe space.
Casey leaned forward and lowered her voice. She tried to focus on Violet but was unable to. Instead she set down the now-empty coffee cup on Violet’s nightstand and looked down at Violet’s comforter, tracing the floral design with her finger. “We ran into each other,” she said to the comforter. “At the pizza place. It wasn’t planned.” She glanced up at Violet to make sure she was listening, or to make sure she believed her, Violet couldn’t tell. So she just nodded.
Casey dropped her eyes back to the comforter and went back to running her finger along the flowers. There were a lot of flowers on Violet’s comforter; it would keep Casey busy for a while. Maybe as long as it took for her to tell her story.
“So he said we should maybe get together while I’m home. Have lunch. It was very . . . safe. No big deal, you know?” She glanced up a second time, and for a second time Violet nodded. “But it kinda went wrong,” Casey said. Her voice went small. She sounded younger than her years.
“So you got drunk because it went wrong?” Violet guessed.
Casey smiled. “No, the getting drunk went right. He has a fake ID. I asked him to get us some beer. I thought it would be . . . fun. You know, we could relax a bit. At lunch we were like two people who’d just met. I . . . felt bad. I didn’t want it to be like that.” She stopped talking, her finger stopped moving. But she didn’t look up this time. “He was so sad when we broke up. I feel responsible. I thought if we had a nice time, things would be . . . better.”
Violet cast about for something to say, but she couldn’t think of anything, so she kept quiet. She did not know about being in love, or breaking up, or what it felt like to be drunk. Except for last Christmas Eve when her mom had let her have a whole glass of champagne and she’d gotten what her mom called “tipsy.” It had been a not-unpleasant feeling, but it hadn’t lasted long.
“So we went back to his house, and his mom wasn’t home, and we were drinking too fast, and too much. And the next thing I knew, we were . . .” Violet watched as Casey pulled her knees to her chest and threw her arms over her head, hiding her face between her knees. From underneath the covering of her arms, she let out a frustrated, embarrassed groan. “I’m so stupid!”
Violet tried to make her feel better. “Well, you weren’t stupid alone. He was stupid, too.”
There was silence for a while, and Violet thought that perhaps she’d made a good point and Casey was taking in the wisdom she had offered, maybe even deciding Violet had been the exactly right, if not unlikely, person to talk to. Finally, she raised her head, eyeing Violet. Violet waited for the thank-you that was surely coming. She waited to hear, You’re so good to talk to. Really wise beyond your years. No wonder my sister liked you so much. She’s an idiot for letting you go. Maybe you could be my best friend now.
Instead Casey just looked at her. This time her eyes were able to focus. The coffee had begun to work. “You don’t understand,” she said. “I’m not stupid