I Just Saw her

NINE

I lay back, listening to the voices outside my door. My mother was shouting up the stairs for me to get out of bed and ready for school. My father slammed his coffee cup loudly enough to hear it from the kitchen, followed by his booming shout. "Every single morning! Can we have one day without you yelling?"

My parents could have blown up on me the night before, but they didn't. They could have locked me away out of fear, keeping a firm eye on me at all times, but they didn't. They could have forbade me from being involved until a suspect was caught, but they didn't. To thank them for trying to understand, I decided to put a smile on my face and join my family in the kitchen for breakfast.

I pretended not to notice their overly concerned faces as I helped myself to some coffee and sat at the table. My mother hovered around me, asking if I wanted anything, if she could make me something special.

My parents exchanged concerned looks. "Patrick," my father said slowly, "we need to talk about Casey."

Before I could respond, my mother rushed to stop me. "We love Casey, and we feel terribly about what happened. But..." She looked to my father for help.

"Are you sure it's a good idea for her to be sneaking out of the house at night?"

"I mean, she said she leaves notes. Brian and Katie understand."

"And what about us?"

"What about us?" I was confused.

"If someone is following her, and she keeps coming here, how do you know they won't kill us too?" my mother blurted out.

I paused, surprised. I hadn't considered that, and if I did, it was so subconscious that I didn't even realize it. "Do you really think that?"

She reached across the table and put her hand on my forearm, her way of connecting to me. "It's a possibility. And putting yourself at risk is not something I can dismiss."

"She's scared," I said quietly. "I can't tell her no."

"Then perhaps I need to," my father said sternly.

I stared at my father. "Then I'll just go to her house."

"The hell you will."

Looking from my mother to my father, I was stumped for anything I could say. I had already decided that if Casey was not allowed at my house, I would simply go to her. I would be eighteen in less than two weeks. Then, there would be nothing they could do to stop me.

I nodded as they spoke, but had essentially stopped listening. When they had appeared to run out of steam, I mumbled an "okay", pushed my chair away from the table, and left.

My mother followed me to the door and hugged me, which was surprising as well. "Please understand that we are just worried, Patrick. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"I know, mom."

She squinted at me. "Then please, just... just make good decisions."

I had all but forgotten their words by the time I walked down the driveway to my car. I sat behind the wheel, a smile on my face for the first time in too long while I replayed kissing Casey in my bed. Her soft skin, the curve of her spine on her lower back, I felt it all again. I didn't know how it would feel, seeing her at school, but I said I would want to kiss her again and I did.

My phone bleated in my pocket. I pulled it out and opened my messages.

Mental health day. Sunrise in 15.

Bree sending a text encouraging everyone to skip school was very out of character. I could count on one hand the number of times she had intentionally missed a class, nevermind an entire day. I responded with a single question mark and watched the screen for her response.

Can't text about it. It's important.

I knew the school would alert our parents to our absences, but if my friends didn't care, it was urgent. Sunrise was a diner about ten minutes away, on the edge of a much larger and busier suburban town. I was on edge as I drove, my thoughts creating one horrific scenario after another, each involving Casey and what could have happened to her after she left my house, not knowing if anyone was watching.

It turned out, someone was watching.