This Secret Thing, стр. 83

He shrugged and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “I don’t care,” he said.

She looked at him, confused. “You don’t?” Maybe she’d mistaken what he felt. Maybe he’d been using her as much as she’d used him. If that was the case, she guessed she deserved it.

He grinned. “I mean, of course I care. But we’re broken up. We were”—he sighed—“I don’t know what we were. But I figure . . .” He shook off his confusion.

She looked up at him, and she could see it there, in his eyes. He could act nonchalant, but she saw the love she’d come to expect. The love, she realized, she still counted on.

“I figure we’ll figure out what we were”—he stopped, corrected himself—“what we are. In time. Right now, if you don’t mind, I’d just like to sit here with you and wait for news about your mom. I’d like to be with you when they come out to tell you. If that’s all right with you, that is.”

She rested her head on his shoulder and felt relief fill her entire being. “It’s all right with me,” she said. “It’s all right.”

She stood over her mother, watching her sleep. They’d said her mother was still unconscious but that she could see her, for her reassurance. They knew she’d seen her mother get shot, had held her till the ambulance arrived. Even now, though she’d changed into some of Violet’s shorts and a T-shirt and washed her hands, she could still see blood under her nails. She could still smell the ironlike scent of the blood, the burned air from the gun firing. The smell would not leave her any more than the images of Bess taken down by the bullet would.

“Eli’s here,” she said, hoping that would stir her. Hoping she’d get angry and wake up, demand to know why he was there and what he wanted. “He’s been sitting with me since he heard. He brought me a Sprite.”

She pulled a chair over to the bedside and sat down. She felt so tired. But she didn’t want to sleep. She wanted to be awake if something changed, wanted to be the first person Bess saw when she opened her eyes. Bess had lost a lot of blood, had had to have surgery to repair her shoulder where the bullet had hit. She would need physical therapy for a long time, but she’d regain use of her shoulder. That’s what the doctor had said when he came out to talk to them. Her father had finally shown up with Nicole. The two of them sat side by side in the waiting area, looking shell-shocked and afraid, uncertain what to do. They looked at Casey with a wariness, like they wanted to ask her questions but were holding back. They seemed afraid of her, of what she’d witnessed. She felt apart from them, separated even more than before. But this time she enjoyed the distance. She wanted to stay on the other side of whatever gap existed now because her mom was on that side, and when she woke up, they would stand together, connected by what they’d experienced. She thought of the girl at the party that night saying that Russell Aldridge had raped Casey, saying it had happened to her, too. That connection had terrified her. But maybe, she thought, it didn’t have to.

She kept chatting, and her mom kept sleeping. She told Bess about the homeless guy who killed the man who’d held them hostage. The cops said the man had been stealing things from people’s storage sheds and garages—food and beverages mostly. They said he’d probably been canvassing the neighborhood for where to hit next and just happened to be in the right place at the right time. He’d stabbed the man with a knife he carried for protection. He was a hero, albeit an unlikely one. She told her mother she planned to track him down somehow so that she could thank him. Who knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t come along. “I bet you’ll try to rehabilitate him or something,” she said to Bess. “Knowing you.”

Casey waited hopefully, but Bess didn’t respond. So she kept on talking, as much to keep herself awake as to communicate with her mom. She babbled on about Eli, about school, about whatever popped into her head. The longer she talked, the more she revealed. She told her mom about her conflicted feelings about Eli, about the cop, about how badly she’d handled everything lately. “I’ve messed everything up,” she admitted.

And then Bess opened her eyes. She looked at Casey and reached out to her. The two grasped hands, and she saw Bess take in the surroundings, seeming to understand where she was and what had happened, no explanation needed. “You didn’t mess everything up,” Bess said to Casey through tears. “You were so brave today. What you did for Violet. You didn’t even hesitate.” She squeezed Casey’s hand, and Casey was surprised by the strength she still had. This was her good hand now, her good arm.

Casey squeezed back. “So were you,” she said. “I didn’t know you knew how to do that.”

Bess tried to shrug, then winced. “Well, I didn’t do it all that well. Obviously.” She dipped her chin in the direction of her bandaged shoulder.

“Mom, you were a hero. You got us out of there.”

Bess closed her eyes for a moment. “I don’t remember all of it,” she said, and opened her eyes again.

“I do,” said Casey. “And maybe someday I’ll tell you whatever you don’t remember.”

“You’ll fill in my gaps,” Bess said.

Casey smiled. “Yes.”

Bess’s face grew serious. “There are other gaps I’d like you to fill. You promised me you would when you’re ready. Think you’re ready now?”

Casey gave her a scolding look. “Using your injury to guilt me into spilling my guts.” She tsked in mock disapproval. “That’s low, Mom.”

Bess gave a little laugh. “Trust me when I say I