Casey and Me

No words can describe this turn of events

March saw not only the start of the octopush season, but also the start of three trials; Ellis', Casey's, and Olivia's. The school had been abuzz with speculation and rumor following Olivia's assault on me in January, but Miss Ainsworth had refused to give anything away. I'd followed her lead, only confiding in my friends, all of whom expressed disgust that Casey would so forget herself as to actually try and get me killed. She'd been absent this whole time, and uncomfortable rumors were flying around that she was pregnant. As Marcia said, if she hadn't gotten pregnant the first time, Ellis' forbidden visits to her family's farm would certainly have done the job. Ellis had been placed under "house arrest" once his illegal activities were brought to light, meaning he could go nowhere without supervision. His car keys had been confiscated, and his car turned over to Graham, who'd been furious to find out what his son had gotten up to. The shouting that day had almost drowned out Mr FitzGerald's yelling when Sally had almost dropped a beaker of diluted acid, and we'd all thanked our lucky stars Graham's rage hadn't been directed at us. 

Miss Ainsworth had also told me that Jane and Kenneth had successfully fought her attempts to have Casey removed from the farm. "But I am working on another plan," she'd told me. "Hopefully when all this is over, I can put it into place. But it's going to require some serious cooperation on the part of the other persons I have involved."

I'd asked no questions, and she hadn't ventured any further information. But from discussions with the others, we'd concluded that Miss Ainsworth probably planned to have Casey put with a foster family whom she knew personally, rather than just dropping her into the foster system willy-nilly. 

In any case, what mattered at this moment were the three trials about to take place. And I was not looking forward to it. Even so, I knew I'd have my friends and family by my side, and when the first trial came - Olivia's - I was ready. 

"God, I hate this," I muttered, as I critically inspected my appearance in the mirror. I hated dressing up - David had joked that he'd probably have to fight me tooth and nail to get me in any kind of formal wear if we ever got married - and I felt like a monkey in a suit as I pinned my braid into place. I'd chosen to go au naturale, and I felt ever so slightly naked. But I wasn't about to walk into the courtroom looking like a clown gone wrong. Makeup disagreed with my skin anyway, and Mum and I had agreed that I looked good enough without it. 

"Ready to go?" Dad called from downstairs. 

"Not like I have much choice," I said crossly, and Dad laughed, which actually made me feel better. 

"Life's like that," he said, as he paused at the bathroom door. "Once this is all over, you can finally focus on school, octopush, and your boyfriend. Not necessarily in that order. Just promise you'll use protection when that time comes?"

"Oh for God's sake," I protested, but I couldn't help but laugh as I turned and gave him a quick hug. "Shove off the sex talk till after this is all over?"

"Deal," Dad agreed, reaching out and gently tugging my jacket collar back into place. "Let's get moving, then. We've got a damned long drive ahead of us, and I'm not looking forward to your mum's bellyaching about missing out on breakfast."

"I heard that," Mum said crossly as she entered the bathroom. She looked even more miserable than I did - likely because she'd stubbornly refused to buy a new skirt, insisting her old one fit her fine. It didn't, but Mum was in a bad enough mood as it was. "Clear out, the pair of you," she added snippily. "This damn bathroom's too bloody small, and it feels like bloody Clapham Junction."

Dad and I wisely scurried downstairs. "We'll stop for breakfast on the way there," Dad whispered, and I nodded. I couldn't blame Mum for being mad; she'd been ready to take Olivia's skin off the day of the assault, and Olivia's mother - a fiesty Scot woman with the face of an angel and the mouth of a sailor - had told Mum she'd need to line up in giving her daughter a well-deserved drubbing. They'd bonded over their mutual anger, and now had afternoon tea together three days a week. Olivia herself had steered well clear of me since that fateful afternoon, and I admitted to still being pretty angry at her myself. Not just for her kick to the head, but for actively trying to prevent David from saving me. "I hope she gets the bloody book thrown at her," I muttered, as Dad and I went out to the car. My shiny new Beetle sat to one side; it was ready to go, barring me getting my provisional license, and I was looking forward to getting it so I could finally learn to start driving. It would also be a good distraction from all the bullshit of late. 

Dad nodded as he unlocked the family car. "Me too," he agreed, his usually easy-going nature buried under the seething rage which had been lurking ever since January. "That girl deserves a good stint behind bars."

I had to agree, although I suspected the humiliation of an assault conviction would be enough to leave her scarred for the rest of her life. And this once, I had no sympathy for her. She'd tried to kill me, by dint of attempting to interfere in my rescue. That was enough to put her permanently in the black books so far as I was concerned. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

"Aye," Dad said, and Mum nodded tight agreement as she got into the car. Her face was one tight mask of rage, and with that dark thundercloud of pain and anger engulfing us, we set off for London. It was a long drive, but none of us really had the heart to whinge about it. And as I sat in the back behind Mum, I prayed that the jury for each case would be able to come to a quick verdict. I didn't want to spend days and days in court. I just wanted all of it to be over so I could get on with my schooling and my life.