Kasey Screws Up the World

Kasey Screws Up The World

Copyright © 2015 Rachel Shane

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electrical or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, or information storage or retrieval without permission in writing from the author.

Cover design by Rachel Shane

Interior design and layout by Rachel Shane

Images by Depositphotos

To my sister, Becca, for being my best friend. I would never betray you.

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THREE MONTHS, TWELVE DAYS, and fifteen hours had passed since I ruined my sister’s life. I’d spent all one hundred thousand minutes since trying to make it up to her. Well, okay, I wasted some of those minutes sleeping. And I never really thought about her while showering or using the toilet because that’s just weird.

Presents didn’t work. The one thing Lara wanted couldn’t be bought. Apologies lost their meaning when I chanted them over and over while she tuned me out. I knew I should give up and embrace the title of disowned sister like Lara so readily wanted me to wear. After all, it was my fault she couldn’t dance anymore.

I’d tried everything to help her…except
help
her. The presents, the apologies, the secrets: those weren’t what she needed. She needed her old life back. Which meant I had to face all the other people I hurt in the aftermath of Lara’s injury to get it for her.

With a deep breath, I pushed open the door to the dance studio—aka the auxiliary gym—and all eyes snapped to mine. My jeans suddenly stuck my thighs and my backpack gained a thousand pounds, weighing me down like an anchor. The first dance team practice of the school year was usually a time for catching up, not catching wind of people whispering about whether or not I’d show. All conversation ceased. I searched for my ex-best friend Denise Yee but the sea of narrowed eyes blurred, making each girl look like a paper doll, indistinguishable from the next. The familiar scent of overused gym mats and too much Axe body spray hit me with a pang of nostalgia and nausea. Part of me wanted to turn around and run back out, but cowardice was what got me into this mess.

I dropped the bag with a loud
thud
, focusing on placing one foot in front of the other and not the way my palms were turning sweaty. The crinkling of the blue gym mat under my feet was the only sound as I made my way toward a cluster of girls on the opposite side, hoping Denise was one of them.

They backed away from me as if their synchronized movements were part of a choreographed dance step. These girls were my friends, the ones I had spent the last three years giggling with backstage at recitals in order to calm my nerves, the ones who squeezed my hands when we were waiting to hear if we’d made Nationals, the ones who included me even when Lara wasn’t around.

A lump formed in my throat, but I managed to squeak out a “Hey” in a desperate attempt to appear casual.

Two of the girls burst out laughing and I felt a small bit of relief amongst my nerves that neither of them were Denise. Giggling almost seemed normal, even if this time it was directed
at
me. The third girl, Ali Montauk, clutched her hip and held up a five-finger stop sign. “Stay over there.” Her chestnut hair was so straight and shiny it looked shellacked into place. “I’d like to keep my legs in working condition, thanks.”

A lead anvil tore through my stomach at the reminder of what I did to my sister. The laughter increased. I spun around to face another cluster of my teammates. They straightened like dogs on high alert. “What’s next, you going to sabotage Nationals, too?” Crista Finnochio said, checking to see if Ali laughed at her comment.

My mouth was frozen midway to forming the word
no
when I caught sight of the girl standing stoically behind her. Denise’s face was wiped of all expression as if even straightened lips would betray too much emotion about my presence.

I swiveled my head to both groups in a wishy-washy way. I knew I should focus on Denise but I couldn’t bear to look at her. She had on a sports bra and skimpy Manhattan Prep shorts. Only she would be confident enough to walk around school in her underwear. I used to love that about her. Now, her confidence was enough to shatter me.

“I’m—” I swallowed. The word “sorry” seemed too insignificant to sum up what I’d done to her. Instead, “I’m not going to hurt you,” came out of my mouth. All the air seeped out of my body like a deflated balloon. That was the first time I’d admitted out loud that I was capable of hurting someone. That I had once before.

Ali scoffed. “Sure you’re not, Kasey. Not yet anyway. Not until you realize you aren’t as good as us and you need us out of the way.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” No one knew and that was entirely the problem. My hands shook by my sides so I curled my fingers into my palms to stop them. When Ali’s eyes zeroed in on my closed fists, I realized my mistake. I flattened my hands against my thighs, but I might as well have raised them in the air in surrender.

Ali broke away from the pack and stomped toward me. “Why don’t you clear it up for us then? Because there are a lot of rumors going around.” Ali gestured at Denise, who kept practicing to be a portrait model, clearly not wanting to give me the satisfaction of even blinking.

“I heard she fell,” Nikki said after a few uncomfortable moments of silence.

“Heard it was a botched suicide attempt.” Crista tucked a strand of her shoulder-length bob behind her ear and added, “After you pushed her over the edge of insanity.”

Ali placed her hands on her hips. “I think you pushed her.”

“Those are just rumors.” My voice came out high-pitched, sounding guilty. A few of the girls rolled their eyes. It didn’t matter what I said. They would only hear what they wanted to hear, stroke their pet theory while the truth escaped behind their backs. Still, I took a deep breath and spoke slowly, so they would believe me. “None of those are right.”

“Then what is?” Denise crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to one hip. In the past she would have punctuated her question with a cutesy nickname for me like Kase-adilla and a smile she couldn’t shelve even in anger. I robbed her of that smile, too. “You can’t explain it because you don’t want to admit it,” she added.

I sucked on my lower lip. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to admit it. It was that I couldn’t possibly explain in only a few words. It was the same reason that only two words—I’m sorry—couldn’t fix what I had done. Not to Lara. Not to Denise. Not to the dance team. And not to…Finn. Thinking his name made my heart deflate all over again.

“That’s what I thought.” Denise’s back straightened, and she scanned the other girls before padding across the gym mat. She brushed past me—sending my hair flying up from the velocity of her movements—and joined Ali on the opposite side of the mat as if the battle lines had been drawn. It was only a matter of seconds before the rest of the girls joined their troop and I became the lone soldier defending herself without a weapon.

Ali took that as her green light signal. “We’ve wasted way too much time on you already. As captain, I’ve—”

“Co-captain,” Denise corrected. The lump that formed in my throat wasn’t even worth swallowing, it completely obstructed my airways.

Ali nodded at her. “We’ve decided that even though you technically already made this year’s team—”

“Don’t worry.” I didn’t wait for her to finish. I knew what she was going to say: they were kicking me off. “I came here to quit.” Tears rammed at the back of my eyes as the words left my lips. I’d vowed to myself before school began not to lie anymore and here I’d just spewed another one. But I had so little dignity left, I had to cling to my last reserve.

The dance team: added to the tally of things I’d lost, right behind my sister, my best-friend, and the guy I loved.

I spun on my heels and raced toward the exit. Each pound of my feet on the mat made my face cringe. My hands slammed into the door, and I burst into the hallway, nearly careening into someone about to enter.

When I looked up to meet his eyes, my stomach dropped even further. Lonnie Weitzman. Three months ago that name wouldn’t have meant anything to me. Today it was another reminder of everything I’d screwed up.

“K—Kasey?” I obviously took him by surprise because his brown eyes opened as wide as possible, and he dropped the papers he was holding. His shaggy hair bounced as he bent to retrieve them.

I couldn’t deal with him now, too. I didn’t want to hurt another person, even if it was just emotionally. “Sorry,” I mumbled, and took off again down the hallway. The sound of the gym door slamming behind me felt like another slap in the face.

When I rounded the corner, I crumpled against the wall and buried my face in my hands. My shoulders rattled from my deep breaths. Going to my dance teammates…former dance teammates…to help Lara was too big a leap from the betrayal that occurred after her injury. I had to start at the beginning: revealing the truth of what happened. Once I did that, I had to fix everything I broke, not just my sister.