Blackout
Authors: Caroline Crane
Tags: #party, #feminism, #high school, #bullying, #date rape, #popularity, #underage drinking, #attempted suicide, #low selfesteem, #football star
A
Revengers Novel
by Caroline Crane
Published by
Fire and Ice
A Young Adult Imprint of Melange
Books, LLC
White Bear Lake, MN 55110
Blackout, Copyright 2015 Caroline
Crane
ISBN: 978-1-68046-114-5
Names, characters, and incidents
depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of
this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,
or by any information storage and retrieval system, without
permission in writing from the publisher.
Published in the United States of
America.
Cover Design by Lynsee
Lauritsen
BLACKOUT
by Caroline Crane
She wanted to be popular,
but not like this.
What happens when a girl gets drunk and
helpless at a party? Kelsey Fritz finds out the hard way, thanks to
football hero Evan Steffers. Kelsey’s friends rescue her from
suicide, and then they themselves are in deadly trouble. Maddie,
who used to date Evan, knew he was bad news. She got away from him
once, but how can she save herself this time?
Table of
Contents
Chapter
One
The dress was a pink sheath. When she saw it
in daylight, it had more of a peach tone.
Still, it looked good on her. It was soft and
pretty and it didn’t wash out her pale coloring.
The shape was another story. How could she
have been so stupid? She knew she didn’t have any figure. The
reflection in her mother’s full-length mirror only confirmed that
fact. She was as straight up and down as a person could be, and
bony.
She turned to look at the back. It was cut
low enough to show her chicken wing shoulder blades. Really, really
stupid. She reached for the zipper to tear off the dress.
“Kelsey, you look so glamorous!”
Her sister Velda stood in the doorway. “Let
me look at you.” Velda came on into the room.
Kelsey shriveled under her touch. Velda was
the firstborn, the one who got all the looks. She was shaped the
way a woman should be, and had golden blond hair that fell to her
shoulders in soft waves. Kelsey’s hair was platinum and tightly
curled. She could do nothing but keep it short, a curly mat all
over her head. She hated herself. She always would, in spite of Dr.
Schiff.
Velda turned her around, studying every
angle. “I’ve never seen you looking so beautiful.”
“I am not.” Kelsey snapped it out, but
softly. Velda paid no attention.
Kelsey went on. “It’s all wrong! It’s wrong
for me and it’s not what the others will be wearing.”
“What are the others wearing?” Velda’s tone
was soothing, as though she talked to a child.
“Jeans. Or shorts.” After all, it was
August.
“Well, then, why don’t you wear jeans or
shorts?”
Kelsey had no answer. She had wanted to be
beautiful, but she never would be. Especially not in this
dress.
“What sort of party is it?” Velda asked.
“Just a get-together. My class.”
“I see. Before you all scatter to the winds.
My class did that, too. It’s sad, leaving Lakeside. Where is this
party?”
“At the Brandons’. On Overlook.”
“They have a pool, don’t they? You’re
bringing a suit, I hope.”
No way. Cindy Brandon had suggested it, but
no way was Kelsey going to expose herself in a swimsuit. The other
girls would all be in bikinis. And would look good in them. No
way.
“I’m not wearing shorts,” Kelsey said. “Not
with these legs.”
Velda looked down at her legs. Hadn’t she
ever noticed what sticks they were?
Kelsey folded her arms and huddled into them.
“I’m too skinny all over. I don’t have any—anything.”
“Oh, come now. You’re a beautiful young
woman.”
“Am not.”
“Kelsey, listen to me. Haven’t all those
months of therapy done anything for you?”
“My body image was not what we talked
about.”
“Then what did you talk about?”
“That—man.” Kelsey longed to take off the
dress, but not in front of Velda.
“The one at school?”
“No!
” Not Ben. He hadn’t really done
anything, only terrified her. “The one next door.”
“Oh, that man. But he’s in prison now.”
“That’s not why he’s in prison. And he’s not
what bothers me.” Kelsey went to her own room and looked through
everything she had. Pants, shirts, sweaters. A few dresses that she
never wore.
She paused at a black skirt with a flower
design and accordion pleats. That might work, as a compromise
between jeans and the pink sheath. She would return the sheath, if
she could. If not, she would save it for another time and wear it
with a lacy stole to hide her chicken wings.
To go with the skirt, a white tee with
crocheted edging around the neck. The neckline wasn’t too deep and
there was no bare back. She held them up together. The effect was
only so-so, but better than jeans if the others were dressed up.
Yet not too dressy in case they weren’t.
She wished Velda would leave so she could try
on the outfit. Velda stayed, wanting to fix her hair.
Kelsey tamped down her irritation. “There’s
nothing you can do with my hair. It just
is.
”
Once again, Velda studied her. Ran a finger
through the silver-blond curls. People always told her she was
lucky to have naturally curly hair. They didn’t seem to grasp, or
didn’t want to, that there was such a thing as too curly.
Glynis Goode from school had hair like
Kelsey’s. It was a little darker blonde but just as curly. Glynis
didn’t mind it at all. She tied it up sometimes, or else wore it
frizzed out like a tent. On Glyn, it didn’t look too bad. As if it
was supposed to be that way. Was that confidence, or what was
it?
Velda turned her again and said, “Hmm.”
Would you please just get out of here?
“Maybe what you need is some jeweled
combs.”
What she needed was somebody else’s hair.
Anyway, Velda had just confirmed that she needed
something.
“I don’t have any jeweled combs,” Kelsey
said.
“I have. Let me run home and get them.”
Run home and stay there.
Her expression must have said it all. Velda
relaxed and forgot the jeweled combs. “Who are you going with?”
“Nobody. These are just people from
school.”
Velda should have known Kelsey wouldn’t have
a date. When did she ever?
“You’re going by yourself? That’s so brave. I
mean, it’s not like—I mean, you’ve come a long way, Kel.”
“A long way from what?” Kelsey knew exactly
what she meant.
“From the way you used to be.”
That was exactly what she meant.
Velda had to pile it on. “Was it the
therapy?”
Oh, sure. Give somebody else all the credit.
“Maybe it was me.”
“In that case, sweetie, congratulations.”
Velda didn’t believe her. Kelsey took her
chosen garments to the bathroom. Velda followed, asking about
shoes.
“Sandals.” Kelsey tried to close the
door.
Her sister held it open. “With or without
hose?”
“Why hose? This is summer and it’s supposed
to be informal.” She had planned to wear stockings and white pumps
with the sheath. What a mistake that whole outfit would have been.
She hoped the skirt wasn’t too much.
“We had a party like that when we graduated,”
Velda said. “It’s so sad, the whole class breaking up after all
those years. Anybody else going to be in the Boston area?”
“I don’t know.”
She did know. Ben Canfield, she had heard,
was going to MIT. She refused to mention his name or even think
about him. Nor would he want to think about her. She was the reason
he had left Lakeside. Transferred to the public school right at the
beginning of his senior year. All because of her.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she announced
to the hovering Velda.
“Take a bubble bath, sweetie. It’s so-o-o
relaxing.”
“I don’t need relaxing.”
No doubt Velda could see through that, but
she had better not say so. This was a test, going to the party
unescorted. She couldn’t be escorted because there was nobody to do
that. Cindy Brandon had assured her it wouldn’t matter. Plenty of
people, Cindy claimed, were going single. It was a test for Kelsey
to prove to herself and others that she could handle it. Not
because of the therapist, but just because she was strong. She
could do it!
She showered and dressed. Put on lip-gloss
and a touch of eyebrow pencil. She needed that, with her blond
eyebrows. She checked herself in the full-length mirror. It wasn’t
too bad. Could have been worse. She straightened her back and
checked again. That was better.
They heard her on the stairs and called for a
command appearance. At least her mother commanded it, backed by
Velda. They were out on the patio, her mom and stepfather, Velda
and Velda’s husband Ron. Both the men approved automatically. The
women had endless comments.
“Are you sure you want to wear that?” her
mother asked. “What happened to the dress we bought?”
“It’s too formal,” Kelsey mumbled.
“But it was good. Not everybody can wear a
dress that slim. This—I don’t know what this is. It’s—it’s—”
“SS&G,” said Velda. It was a term that
came from their grandmother and stood for sweet, simple, and
girlish.
“That’s what it is, yes. Are you sure you
want it?”
“I don’t have anything else.”
Mom glowered, cocked her head, and took
another look. “Well—it is rather girlish. But then, you are a young
girl. It gives the right idea.” She still seemed doubtful.
Never mind that she was almost eighteen. To
Mom she would always be four years old. Stepdad handed her the car
keys and finally she could escape.
Overlook Place was a short road that went off
from Fremont Drive, where Kelsey’s home was. It didn’t overlook
anything more than a steep wooded hill that sloped down toward the
Vanorden Kill. In winter when the leaves were off part of the Kill
was visible, at least from Glynis Goode’s house at the end of the
road. That must have been what it overlooked.
Besides the Goodes’, there were only two
other houses on Overlook. The Brandons’ came first. Cars were
parked helter-skelter on the grass in front of it. She felt silly
arriving in a car when she could have walked. It wasn’t that far,
but the car gave her safety. She could still turn around and
leave.
But not go home. There would be too many
questions. If she said she was suddenly ill, they would see right
through it. Even if the illness were genuine, they would know the
reason for it.
Why did she have to be such a wimp? All those
months with Dr. Schiff hadn’t done a thing. She had told Cindy
Brandon she would be here. With that crowd, Cindy wouldn’t know if
she wasn’t.
A car whizzed past her and into the Brandons’
driveway. She hoped they hadn’t seen her sitting outside, trying to
get up the nerve to go in. She pictured herself driving on in and
getting out of the car. In her skirt. Nobody else wore a skirt.
They all had on shorts or cut-off jeans.
Dr. Schiff once said, “You have to keep in
mind, nobody else is as conscious of you as you are.”
They had been discussing focus. For one brief
instant, Kelsey had an epiphany. People who weren’t shy generally
had an outward focus, on people and things outside themselves. They
focused on how other people seemed to them instead of the other way
around.