Caro offered her flask to them, and Rosemarie and Kasey took small sips.
“Honestly, Ada. Taylor’s so lucky. You’ve outdone yourself,” Kasey remarked. She finished her cupcake and put her arm around Ada’s waist, nuzzling in. Ada nodded because she knew it was true. She was a woman who always went above and beyond what was expected.
The foursome looked out at the crowd spilling from the house into the backyard— colorful knots of people milling in and out of the white tents, feasting on pink-confetti cupcakes, sipping cold champagne and prosecco in the high noon sun. A plucky bluegrass band was playing in one of the tents; the happy, quick music hung on the wind. The whole deal was not unlike the high school graduation party they’d had in that same spot fifteen years ago. That party was the last shot of sunshine before the storm, and for so long afterward, there hadn’t been a rainbow in sight, not even a slip of light.
Everything was different now, but somehow—like strange, humming magic pulled through time—to Kasey, it all felt the same.
2004
2
Kasey and the girls were on the front porch of the Plum house after school, each one of them with a piece of banana pudding icebox cake and a clinky glass of tea. The March air still carried a chill, but the afternoon sunlight was slanting in a dreamy way—hope for warmth and good things to come. They were supposed to be going over graduation party plans, but Caro and Kasey had fallen into a fit of giggles talking about one of their teachers.
“No, seriously, though! The last day of school is, like, two months away and he’s already given up. He’s not doing anything. All he talks about is his divorce. Oh, Shelly has a new boyfriend…Shelly took the dog…” Caro said, mimicking their teacher’s deep voice.
“He’s such a loser! He told us the same thing yesterday!” Ada chimed in.
“Hold on, Juno is a really adorable dog, though. I’d be pissed if someone took my dog,” Rosemarie said with her bare feet in Ada’s lap. Being a dog person was a strong part of Rosemarie’s personality and so was doing spot-on impersonations. “Give me Juno back, you bitch!” she said, sounding exactly like their teacher.
“Wait, waitwait! Forreal. Don’t y’all think he’s kind of cute, though?” Kasey said.
“Who?! Mr. Chandler?! Absolutely not,” Rosemarie said with a full mouth.
“Don’t judge! I said kind of!” Kasey said.
“Y’know…I can see it…” Ada said. She and Rosemarie had Mr. Chandler for English first period, Caro and Kasey had him for fourth.
“Ada, you’re basically already Mrs. Grayson Castelow, so your vote doesn’t count. It’s distorted,” Rosemarie said.
“You have so many girl crushes; your vote is distorted too,” Ada said, sticking her tongue out. She took her last bite of cake.
“Hey! I have boy crushes too, just not freaking sad bastard Mr. Chandler!” Rosemarie said. She sat up and pushed her ears out like Mr. Chandler’s, and the girls started giggling so much Taylor smacked open the screen door and asked what was so funny. “I was being ridiculous, Tay, that’s all,” Rosemarie said.
“What are y’all gonna do now?” Taylor asked, hungry for attention. Ada’s little sister was the RACK mascot with her whole eleven-year-old heart. She was forever attempting to tag along and tried her best to stay up late when the girls slept over. She’d even decided TRACK was just as good of a combo name as RACK, and she always reminded them how easy it’d be to slide her T in front.
“You’re going to do your homework, and I’m going to start dinner before Mama and Daddy get home. Everyone else is heading out,” Ada said, collecting the girls’ empty cake plates.
“I’m off to work. Diner’s a-callin’，” Caro said. She stood and brushed her hands off on the teeny strawberry jean short shorts she loved to wear so much. “Bye, y’all.” She touched each one of them on the top of the head like they were in a quick game of duck, duck, goose before walking away.
“Fritz, are you tutoring today?” Rosemarie asked.
“Nope. But I gotta go because Dumbass needs the truck, and if it gets him out of the house, I don’t care what it’s for,” Kasey said, standing too.
“You can spend the night here whenever you want, Kase. You know Mama and Daddy never mind,” Ada said.
Kasey stared down the street until Caro’s long red ponytail and strawberry shorts got lost in the hazy buzz.
“My parentals have the gig at the bar. They won’t be home until, like, two in the morning. Regardless, you’re more than welcome to crash with me anytime too, Fritz,” Rosemarie said.
“Thanks, y’all. It’s…fine. I’ll see you in the morning. Love you,” Kasey said after hesitating, taking in their offers. She walked down the porch steps, got into her truck, and waved as she pulled off.
*
The farmhouse Kasey lived in was a six-minute drive from Ada’s pink mansion, a three-minute drive from Caro’s cute trailer park, and a five-minute drive from Rosemarie’s wind chimey house. The girls had grown up knowing every inch of Goldie—the shortest shortcuts to the lake, the ditches with the best crawdads and turtles, the bushes and flowers, every patch of wild onions, dirt, and grass. They’d grown up at one another’s houses, could find their way through them with their eyes closed—every notch in the wood, every doorknob, every screen door and window they had to jiggle just right to open up. They knew Caro’s driveway had the sharpest rocks to hurt their bare feet, that Rosemarie’s driveway was smooth. That they could see both Goldie High’s and South Goldie High’s Friday night lights from Ada’s balcony, that Kasey’s backyard was the froggiest on summer nights, and that the water at her farmhouse was choppier than the water on the other side of the lake.
The girls never hung out at Kasey’s anymore, though.
Not since her dumbass stepdad, Roy.
The farmhouse that her real daddy and his friends built with their bare hands was on the edge of Goldie, almost like if Kasey stayed there too long, she could slip right off the map.
She promised herself that one day, she’d actually do it.
Roy truly was a dumbass and an angry ass and a violent ass too. Kasey hated him more than she ever thought she could hate someone. He hit Kasey’s mom when he got drunk and nasty, and when Kasey’s mom wasn’t there, he’d smack Kasey around too. The last time he’d done it, Kasey took a steak knife and told him if he ever touched her again, she’d stab him without thinking twice.
It’d been a month since.
The girls knew some of what Kasey’s home life was like even though she didn’t tell them everything. She didn’t tell them Roy pulled her hair and smacked her across the face once when she was doing the dishes “too loud.” She didn’t tell them about the time he’d pushed her into the wall for talking back when all she’d done was ask him to repeat what he had said. Kasey couldn’t bring herself to tell the girls those things. It was all too dark, too embarrassing.
Kasey’s dad, Isaiah, was killed by a drunk driver when she was only six months old, and by the time Kasey was in elementary school, her mom had gone through a lot of different dickhead boyfriends, although most of them didn’t hang around too long. Losing her dad flicked a switch in her mom. Kasey’s dad was a good man, and since something so terrible happened to him, it was like it scared her mom into dating only assholes from there on out. Like some sort of desperate defense mechanism. Even though her mom’s boyfriends sucked, none of them were as bad as Roy. None of them ever laid a finger on either of them until him.