Don’t Look Back

chapter fifteen

Spring had greeted us with a brief rain shower on the morning of Cassie’s funeral, but then the dark clouds parted an hour before and the sun shone, casting light over the large funeral home. School hadn’t been canceled, but it might as well have been, as it seemed the entire student body was there, shuffling up the walkway that separated the old part of the cemetery from the new. Everyone was dressed in black. Some wore slacks while others had dug out black party dresses.

The service … it was what I’d expected, but worse. There were so many tears, even from those I figured Cassie would have never been nice to. I had to squelch the urge to get up and run several times. It was hard to breathe in there. Hard to even think with the remembrances and the songs played. But with Del keeping his hand clamped tightly around mine, and my parents behind me watching like hawks, I didn’t dare move.

For the hundredth time, I closed my dry eyes and dragged in a ragged breath. The sorrow for the girl I couldn’t remember built in my chest, but it wouldn’t break free. Just like I couldn’t break free.

I looked at the well-manicured fingers curled around mine, and in the middle of all this sadness, I felt guilt. Guilt for not being able to shed a tear—for holding this boy’s hand when I’d begged another to kiss me a few days ago. My life was a mess, but as my eyes were drawn to the casket’s polished mahogany, I knew that my life—as screwed up as it was—had to be better than no life.

Tulips surrounded the coffin, and a picture rested in a bed of baby’s breath. I hadn’t gone up during the visitation, but I could see the photo from here.

It was of us.

We were sitting on a bench at school, backs against each other, cheesing it up for the camera. It was the first time I’d seen the picture, and we looked younger in it, our smiles real, connected somehow.

“I took that picture,” Del whispered in my ear, catching me staring at it.

Nodding, I slipped my hand free. Scanning the front of the church, I caught sight of Cassie’s mom. The only reason I knew it was her was because she was sobbing, clutching a picture frame to her chest during the entire service. My heart broke for her.

Even with the tears, Cate Winchester was beautiful. Young. Her light brown hair was cut in a fashionable bob, accenting high cheekbones and a graceful neck. Some of Cassie’s features were there—the lips and the slender frame.

There was a moment of silence as the pastor returned to the podium. The back of my neck tingled. I twisted around in the pew, and my gaze slid to the back row. My eyes locked with Detective Ramirez’s dark eyes.

“Samantha,” my mother hissed, drawing my attention. She looked mortified. “Turn around.”

Scott rolled his eyes.

Biting my lip, I whipped around and faced the front. Del dropped a heavy hand on my knee and squeezed, causing me to jump. Veronica shot me a look over the rim of her sunglasses, and then her gaze dropped. Her plump lips thinned, and she stiffly turned away.

I took a deep breath and lowered my head in prayer. Familiar words resonated through the church. Del’s hand crept up my thigh, and my body locked up. Not just because it was completely inappropriate on about a thousand different levels, but because somewhere over the long weekend, I’d made up my mind that the two of us needed to have a serious talk.

Without any warning, my vision dulled, turning gray. The church, coffin, Del’s creeping hand—everything—broke away, leaving just Cassie and me.

She plopped down on a bed—her bed. “Stop bitching. You’re lucky to have a dad who wants to be in your life.”

I rolled my eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed as I stared down at my toes. A jar of red nail polish was in my hand. Everything else lacked life and vibrancy. I looked over my shoulder. “You can have him.”

“Really?” She rolled onto her side, flipping her long hair over her slender shoulder. “I’ll take him. And that supercute sweater you‘re wearing. Oh, while we’re at it, can I also have Del?”

Annoyance flashed and grew in me like a weed. “You don’t even try to hide the fact that you always want what I have. And you aren’t getting my sweater.”

Grinning shamelessly, she watched me with catlike interest. “But I can have Del? Awesome.”

My eyes narrowed as I twisted the lid back on the polish. Standing, I placed it on her bedside table and picked up the music box. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

She sprang from the bed and grabbed the music box out of my hands. Holding it close to her chest, she smirked. “You don’t really want him, but you won’t let him go.”

For a moment, I thought she was going to clunk me over the head with the box. “I’m out of here,” I said.

Cassie laughed. “Don’t be pissy, Sammy. It brings out the lines around your mouth. Wouldn’t want to age yourself prematurely.”

“Don’t be a bitch,” I retorted, heading for the door.

She dashed in front of me, grasping my arms. Her eyes, greener than mine, filled with regret. “Don’t be mad at me, Sammy. I wasn’t being serious. You know that, right?”

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Part of me wanted to push her away. She thought I didn’t have my suspicions—that I didn’t know. But the other part of me, well, it felt bad for her. After all, I understood Cassie better than anyone else. Knew why she did the things she did, even to me—her best friend.

“Please?” She bounced on her heels.

Forcing a smile, I nodded. “Yeah, I’m not mad at you.”

Cassie let out a squeal and wrapped her arms around me. “You know, when we’re old and ugly, we’re still going to be best friends, right?”

I laughed. “If we don’t kill each other before then.”

Feeling the blood drain from my face, I was abruptly pulled out of the memory when Del’s hand slipped between my thighs. Sucking in a sharp breath, I grabbed his wrist, stopping him from going any further.

He shot me an innocent grin.

Disgusted, I tossed his hand back into his lap. My hands were shaking as I tucked my hair back, focusing on the pew ahead.

“What’s your deal?” Del asked in a hushed voice.

“Besides you fondling me during a funeral?” I hissed back. “I remembered something.”

He drew back slightly, eyes growing wide. “What?”

Veronica was staring at us, so I lowered my voice even more, but I was sure she overheard me. “I was talking with Cassie in her bedroom.”

Del’s brows rose. “Nothing much, then.”

It wasn’t to him, but it was the first time I’d remember anything normal about Cassie. But what had I been suspicious about, and what did I know about Cassie that explained her behavior? The plot thickens. My lips twisted and then my stomach dipped as I remembered the last thing I had said to her.

If we don’t kill each other before then.

After the service, everyone piled out in the parking lot. The graveside service was family only.

I scanned the crowds, looking for my parents.

Mom stood by the Bentley, lips pursed as she pointedly stared out into the cemetery at my dad. He was talking to Cassie’s grandfather, who looked just as forlorn as he had when Carson and I had visited. Shaking the older man’s hand, Dad then turned to Ms. Winchester. His lips moved into a sad, sympathetic smile, and then Ms. Winchester’s face crumpled, and she burst into tears once more.

I had to look away.

My gaze landed on Mom once again. It struck me as odd—and rude—that Mom hadn’t offered her condolences. Glancing over my shoulder, I thought I saw Carson’s familiar dark head, but he wasn’t in the crowd.

Del dropped his arm over my shoulder. “You ready?”

I watched my brother’s eyes narrow as he studied Del’s arm. Was I really ready? No. But Del and I needed to talk. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

In more ways than one.

Turned out, I didn’t get a lot of one-on-one time with my boyfriend. A huge group of kids had gone back to his parents’ “farm” after the services. The farm was really just this barn that had been decked out into some sort of playboy clubhouse.

The bottom floor was full of overstuffed couches around a TV screen that was the size of a Hummer. There was a bar where I assumed the stables used to be, and it was in full use right now. Upstairs, the loft had been divided into three guest rooms.

They were also in use.

Sex, drinking, and death seemed to go hand in hand. Maybe it was the way people dealt with death. Losing yourself when faced with something so final was appealing.

Except I’d already lost myself.

A kid bumped into me, and I moved farther into the corner. All of this might have been my thing months ago, but now I wanted nothing more than to disappear into the walls. Everything was too loud—the music, the conversation, the laughter.

Scott was nowhere to be found, having disappeared with Julie and Carson.

Carson.

I’d fallen asleep with him beside me on Friday, and when I woke up later, he was gone.

We hadn’t talked since.

Clutching the red plastic cup to my chest, I pressed against the wall, scanning the crowd while trying to get my heart to slow down.

“There you are,” Del called out, shuffling past a couple who seemed to be in a contest to see who could kiss the longest without coming up for air. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

I eyed the bottle of Jack in his hand. The barn wasn’t so big that you could lose someone. “I’ve been here.”

Del leaned in, giving my cheek a sloppy kiss that reeked of alcohol. “Why are you standing in the corner by yourself? Veronica and Candy are right there.”

Veronica and Candy were on one of the couches, surrounded by girls I didn’t recognize. Lauren didn’t come, opting to go home after the funeral. I couldn’t blame her.

“You look so lonely over here,” Del said, dropping an arm over my shoulders as he leaned in. He caught a piece of my hair with his free hand, twirling it around his finger. “Your friends miss you, Sammy.”

I wanted to miss them—really I did—but the only one I could even tolerate now was Lauren, and she wasn’t even here. I looked up at Del, taking in the straight teeth, the square jaw and aristocratic nose. Everything about him was perfect, from the strategically placed highlights in his carefully styled hair to the tips of his shoes. I could see what I’d been attracted to. Who wouldn’t have been? But nothing stirred in my chest.

“Come on,” he said, swaying into me. “Let’s go somewhere private.”

Private? My heart flopped over heavily as my gaze drifted up to the lofts. We needed to talk, but not in one of those rooms and not when he was obviously drunk. “I want to stay down here.”

He took a swig out of the bottle and then frowned. “But … you’re not doing anything down here. You’re just leaning up against a wall like …”

“Like what?” I dipped out from underneath his arm and placed my cup on the table next to us.

Del turned his head to the side, his jaw working. “I don’t know. It’s just not you. I’d usually have to pull you away from everyone for some quality time.”

Irritation built inside me, and my eyes burned. “If you haven’t noticed, I’ve changed.”

He gave a dry laugh and took another drink. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

Guilt washed over the annoyance, because I had changed—not Del. Blaming him for it wasn’t right. I shifted my weight. “Del, I’m sorry.”

He finished off the rest of his bottle and then tossed it into an overflowing trash can. “I’m not mad. This is just hard. You’re a totally different person, and no matter how much you try, I know you’re not feeling it.”

My brows inched up. Whoa. Okay, maybe it was time for the conversation. And it might be easier than I’d realized. He already knew things weren’t the same. I stepped forward, stopping when we were inches from touching. “I really am trying hard, but—”

“We just need to try harder. I know.”

Oh. No, not where I was going with that. “Del—”

“Sammy, I still love you even though you … aren’t acting right.” He placed his hands on my shoulders, drawing me against his chest as he supported his weight against the wall. Glassy eyes met mine. “We’re meant to be together. And we’ve faced harder things than this.”

The music pounded in my ears as I stared up at him. “We have? I thought we had a perfect relationship, Del.”

He stared at me. “We did—we do!”

“Then what did we face?”

His mouth opened and closed. “Sammy, let’s not focus on that. Tell me what I need to do to make this work, and I’ll do it.”

“No. I want you to tell me, because I have this feeling …”

“Oh, she has a feeling!” Veronica’s voice trilled over the music and conversation, followed by her giggling. “This reminds me of something.”

Turning around, I saw Veronica standing a few feet away. She wobbled to the side. Someone turned the music down. My eyes found the source. Candy. Dread poured into me, locking up my muscles.

“You had a feeling during the funeral, didn’t you?” Veronica’s voice rang loud with false interest.

Everyone stopped. Dozens of eyes were on us, and the barn suddenly seemed too small. I stepped back and met the wall. Del had inched to the side, eyes downcast. A look crossed his face, tightening the features. At first I thought it was concern, but then I realized it was embarrassment.

I was alone.

“So, tell us what the feelings are like?” Candy joined in, flipping the icy sheet of blond hair over her shoulder. “Is it like psychics on those shows?”

A girl laughed. Others snickered.

I folded my arms around me, wanting to crawl into a hole. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s not?” Veronica leaned against the back of a couch, her catlike eyes narrowed. “So, what’s it like, then?”

A slow anger built inside me. Why were they doing this? Yes, we’d obviously grown apart, but to put me on the spot like this? “I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“Why not?” Candy whined, but her eyes sparked with maliciousness. “Everyone is dying to know what it’s like not having any clue who you are. And, wow, being the last person to see Cassie alive. What’s that like?”

“Knock it off,” Del said, finally speaking up. He’d found another bottle, clenching it tightly in his hand. “You’re embarrassing her.”

Or was I embarrassing him?

Candy rolled her eyes, and a dark-haired boy strolled up behind her, wrapping his arms around her tiny waist. Trey. I almost didn’t recognize him. He whispered something in her ear while he met my eyes. He grinned. Candy giggled, pressing back into him.

Veronica’s lips pursed. “What happened at the funeral?”

My head snapped in her direction. “I’m not talking about that here. Sorry.”

“Don’t be such a bitch, Sammy. Everyone wants to know what it’s like.” She turned around, raising her voice. “Right?”

Voices cheered and people chattered all around me. Their eyes bore into me as they pressed forward. I was falling again, but not from a cliff. I’d been at the top of the social ladder, above them, but now I was tumbling off it, hitting every single rung on the way down. Bruised and shaken, I felt the pressure build in my chest.

Who knew how many of them had waited for this day to come? And could I blame them? No. I’d probably terrorized half these kids. I searched the sea of faces for my brother—for Carson. My gaze skipped over one and darted back. Heart stopping, I thought I saw Cassie’s face—smiling at me. Happy. Thrilled.

I couldn’t catch my breath.

Veronica’s smile grew. “Okay. You don’t want to talk about that. Understandable. But you know what I heard?”

“No,” I think I whispered.

“When you wrecked your brother’s car—Mike Billows said you kept talking about someone being in the car with you, but there wasn’t anyone there.” Her voice rose. “He said you were crazy—‘Insanity Sam,’ I think he said.”

Crazy. Insanity Sam. The words bounced around in my skull. For a moment, the faces around me blurred out of focus. I was crazy. No one had been in the car. And how did she know? I looked at Del, but he was still staring at the floor. A second later, I remembered who Mike Billows was: a kid in my bio class who volunteered with the fire department.

“Seeing things?” Candy said, feigning sympathy. “That must really suck.”

Trey smacked her hip. “Be nice.”

She giggled.

“Or maybe,” Veronica continued, “you’ve always been crazy, and we just didn’t know it.” I wanted to throw myself at her, but I couldn’t move. “You sure you don’t remember the last time you saw Cassie … alive?”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Some of the faces lost their smiles. They were glancing at one another, no longer sure if watching my fall from grace was funny and entertaining.

A tall blonde pushed through the crowd, knocking kids out of the way. Julie took one look at Veronica and sneered. “Are you drunk or just a dumb bitch?”

“Excuse me?” Veronica shot back, lip curling. “You can’t possibly be talking to me.”

Julie got right up in her face. “You’re right, there are a few dumb bitches here. But I’m talking to you. So what’s your problem?”

Music suddenly blasted the air, drowning out whatever the two girls were saying, but it looked heated. I owed Julie—owed her big-time. But I had to get out of here. The dark brown walls of the barn were spinning. Nausea rose sharply.

Del reached for me. “Sammy—”

I pushed away from him, plowing through the closest group now fixated on the girl fight about to go down.

“Hey!” snapped a girl. “Watch where you’re going.”

“Sorry,” I murmured, keeping my eyes on the floor.

Another body blocked me. I stepped to the side. Too hot—I was too hot. Bodies were everywhere, pressing into me, suffocating me. Too much perfume—too many sounds. My heart slammed off my ribs; my lungs squeezed. I needed to get outside, get fresh air. The pressure increased and settled on my chest, cutting off the oxygen. Thoughts swam; the walls tilted.

Did you kill her? a voice whispered.

I whirled around. “Who … who said that?”

The boy closest to me arched his brows, muttering something under his breath, and turned away.

Did you kill Cassie? the voice said from behind me.

Spinning around, I tried to breathe. Faces blurred. My vision darkened at the corners. Tremors ran up my legs. I was going to pass out here, in front of everyone. How lame …

A strong hand found mine in the mess of people and squeezed gently. That scent—his scent—surrounded me. I inhaled deeply, expanding my lungs. I lifted my head, and my eyes met startling blue eyes.

Carson looked grim. “You want to get out of here?”