Kasey Screws Up the World (2 page)

Tentative footsteps and the soft whisper of my name made me drop my hands from my face. I looked up to see Lonnie standing there, holding my book bag out as a peace offering. I’d totally abandoned it in the gym. Maybe this was a sign that lost things could be found again.

I wiped my blonde hair out of my face and grabbed the bag from him. “Thanks,” I told him, allowing the corners of my lips to rise. Lonnie’s gesture was the only nice thing anyone had done for me in the last three months and I didn’t deserve it. Not in the least.

He reached out a palm as if to touch my shoulder, but pulled back before he made contact. “I was coming to the gym to talk to you. I’ve been trying to find you all day.”

“You didn’t look very hard.” A strained laugh escaped my lips. “Everyone else seemed to have me on their radar.”

“Yeah, I heard some ridiculous rumors. I’m guessing you didn’t go all
Misery
Stephen King-style on your sister?”

“No. And I didn’t perform a homemade hip replacement in an attempt to impress pre-med college admissions boards.” I shifted my bag to my other shoulder.

“Any progress on the forgiveness front?” Lonnie asked, and I loved how he always knew when to change the subject. He shuffled the papers into a different order, eyeing me sideways.

“Same as last month. Only now Lara’s avoiding me by going to class instead of going to her room.”

Lonnie’s head tilted. “Class? What do you mean?”

I leaned my shoulder against the locker to face him. “It’s this new trend called
going to college
. I hear all the kids are doing it. I plan to try it next year. Peer pressure and all.”

His eyes narrowed into confused slits. “Yeah, but a bunch of Tysh classes have been delayed. Some of them haven’t even started yet.”

“What?” Now it was my turn to squint. Lara had been attending classes all week. She went to Tysh College on a full scholarship. Though it was supposed to be contingent on her participation on the dance team, the school had graciously waived her tuition anyway. Lara even had a letter to prove it. Lonnie’s older brother went there as well.

“Gas leak. Mark told me about it, they’re trying to keep it hush hush but it’s all over Twitter.”

The world seemed to tilt, and I felt like I was sliding right off the surface. Lately, I’d been out of touch with my sister, but I guess I was out of touch with reality as well. I’d avoided twitter and Facebook all summer because social networking sites weren’t very fun when you had no one to network with. Still, I watched the news. Okay, I watched
E! News
.

I straightened. “I gotta go.” Lonnie had to be exaggerating. That was the only explanation. The leak probably only encompassed his brother’s building and Lara’s classes continued uninterrupted all week.

“Wait, Kasey!” he called after me. “Why do you keep avoiding me?”

Because Lonnie belonged on the tally of people I’d screwed over. He just didn’t know it yet.

I turned around and offered him a friendly wave, walking backward as I spoke. “I’m not. I have to get home before Lara.”

He nodded, and I hurried home, desperate to prove Lonnie wrong. For the first time all summer I felt grateful that Mom stayed in the kitchen away from me as I ascended the stairs two at a time. Even she couldn’t bring herself to look me in the eye yet. Lara’s door coaxed me at the top. I didn’t want to invade her privacy like this, but I figured she’d keep a record of her schedule and then I could double check if her buildings were affected by the gas leak.

She used to have posters of ballerinas and snap shots from Broadway productions lining her toe-shoe pink walls. Now, only torn corners remained. I flipped through an old notebook I found open on her desk, once scribbled with choreography ideas. Most of the pages were ripped out. Nothing about Tysh.

The door slammed downstairs, Lara’s signature entrance. Blood whooshed in my ears, drowning out any chance of hearing her approach. I knew I should get out of her room but this might be my only opportunity to snoop.

“Lara? How was class? Oh, by the way, someone named Beth called to confirm your appointment Wednesday at ten.” Mom’s voice grew closer with each word.

The thump of something falling on the stairs made me jump. I tiptoed to the open doorway. Framed in the crack, Lara leaned against the railing at the bottom of the stairs, her messenger bag resting at her feet.

“They called
here
?” Lara pulled out her cell and scrolled through it.

“Who is that?” Mom asked.

I slunk back into the shadows of the room and tried to control my breathing. Lara’s door hinges squeaked loud enough to alert her to my presence and finding me in her room wouldn’t exactly send the message that I was a trustworthy sister. I needed an excuse. Fast. I scanned the room for some inspiration.

“Um. She’s from Dr. Shannon’s office,” Lara answered fast. “More physical therapy.”

A large stack of color-coded folders rested on Lara’s desk. When I went to reach for it, the folder labeled
English 101
slipped from the pile and landed on the floor, falling open to a sheet of paper with Tysh College letterhead.

“Don’t you have a class at that time?” Mom prodded.

The letter was dated July twenty ninth—a month after the hip injury.

Lara started up the stairs, taking each step with great care. “I did, but they, uh, switched me into a more advanced level. It meets at eleven.”

I scanned the letter as if I were auditioning for the World Speed-Reading record. Tysh College. Scholarship revoked. Reapply in the fall.

A breath seeped from my throat, immediately replaced with more guilt. More secrets.

More lies.

Why would Lara hide this and pretend to go to college? And how did she kill all that time she spent away from home?

The doorknob rattled just as I closed the folder and inserted it underneath the pile. Lara wrenched open the squeaking door and we both stood staring at each other, our faces reflecting the same wide-eyed, open-mouthed, gaze.

She took a deep breath and released it, as if speaking to me required too much effort.

“Uh.” I shifted my book bag in my arms, trying to come up with an excuse.

The door hit the back wall and careened toward her, smacking her in her injured hip. She winced.

“Sorry,” I said, as I made my way into the hall. “I was just trying to—”

“Kasey…” She rubbed her hip and stared at me, the green flecks inside her iris dancing. The only kind of dancing she still did. “Don’t make me have to move out. Not when I can’t afford my own place.”

Lara locked the door behind me, shutting me back out of her life.

I had to help her and I finally knew the way to do it. The secrets were only adding up, causing deeper rifts between Lara and her former dream. If I couldn’t help her dance, at least I could give her back the part of dancing that made her a star: the spotlight. And in the process, I’d be able to explain my side of things to everyone I hurt.

I rushed back to my room and switched on my computer. My fingers twirled across the keys as I composed a blog post. I’d reveal the whole story, every last bit of it. I wouldn’t hold any details back, even if it embarrassed the hell out of me. Even if it made me look bad. Even if I was ashamed to admit it. People wrote memoirs all the time to chronicle the great things they did.

I’d write one to reveal the horrible things.

KASEY SCREWS UP THE WORLD

Posted by Kasey at 7:12 P.M.

Monday, September 1

Current Mood:
Guilt-ridden

Additional Current Mood:
Desperate

Listening to:
Nothing. As if I could sit still long enough.

SAT Word Of The Day:
Pusillanimous. Definition: my gut instinct when it comes to boys—See, this blog is educational!

If you’re reading this, you’re probably on my list of victims. You most likely want answers, or at least to use these words against me. If you do, I deserve it. Just as you deserve the truth. I promise to reveal all my secrets, and I hope after you read this confession you choose to forgive me. At the very least, maybe revealing the story will help you understand where I was coming from when I screwed you over.

I think we’re all in agreement that I made a lot of mistakes over the past few months. What you don’t know is none of those mistakes would have happened if I hadn’t tried to be someone I never should have become. So I’ll start my confession—my story—here, back when the only thing I screwed up royally was my History final. Because if I could erase myself out of this scene, Lara would have two working legs, Lonnie wouldn’t have lost the one thing he really wanted, I’d still have my position on the dance team and a lot more friends—especially my best friend—and the world would be a better place without me. The only thing I still wouldn’t have is Finn.

Here goes nothing…

I’d never been on a cruise before. Actually, I’d never been on a family vacation that wasn’t to my grandparents’ house in Florida. But Lara’s scholarship to Tysh University lessened our parents’ financial responsibilities. This wasn’t a vacation. It was a celebration. And when it came to Lara, there was always something to celebrate.

After a long day of travel, my family walked through the lobby to dinner and entered a sea of chatter and piano music. Tiny blue lights twisted around every rail and banister, reflected in the glossy black floor. My nose twitched at as a bouquet of perfumes ignited a battle of vanilla versus sandalwood versus lavender to create a unique scent that couldn’t be reproduced by a manufacturer.

Surrounding the atrium, passengers gathered around photo walls that showcased the pictures taken with the captain when we had first entered the boat. “Let’s look for ours,” Mom said as she detoured through the crowds. Lara rolled her eyes but I dutifully followed along.

As I approached, a few people stopped what they were doing and stared at my sister, a cliché reaction we’d both grown used to by now. She joined my side and gave them what they wanted: a heave of her chest and a flirty batting of her eyelashes. I gave them what they wanted, too, by staying quiet and invisible next to her.

“You look great in this one, Lara.” Mom pulled our photo off the wall.

Eager to focus my attention on something other than the ogling crowd, I started toward Mom, but before I could, Lara grabbed my arm. “Oooh, Kasey, check it out! Finally someone our age.” She abandoned her spectators and nodded toward a photo of two boys standing with their parents. So far, we’d only passed by people who had been alive when Starbucks didn’t exist. “That tall boy could beat out all fifty contestants in a pageant congeniality contest.” She sighed. “What do you think?” She gazed at me with hopeful eyes.

In the picture, the taller boy eyed the camera like he was hitting on the girl taking the photo. The short one grinned, standing off to the side of the rest of his family. His spiked bangs fell into his eyes, casting half his face in shadow. He stood straight, upright, obviously trying to make himself as tall as possible to match his taller brother.

Dad yanked the picture off the wall. “Nice work, girls. These boys are cute.”

Lara’s eyes widened. “Dad! Put that down before someone sees you.”

“Before someone sees this?” He waved the photo in the air.

If we hadn’t been trapped on a boat with him, I would have filed for emancipation at that very moment.

“We can blow it up poster size if you want to hang it above your bed,” said a raspy male voice that was definitely not Dad’s. “I mean, it’s not as sexy as the photos in all those teen mags, but I think we hold our own.”

I spun around to see the taller of the two boys smirking as if the picture had come alive. My cheeks burned at five-alarm fire levels. The shorter/cuter one slouched behind him. The taller boy’s hair was scruffy, messy, almost as if he specifically styled it to resemble bed-head.

“I don’t know him,” Lara said, her voice all flirty and high-pitched. She giggled as she pointed to Dad. “I swear, he’s just this random guy that’s been following us around.”