Don't Look Back(76)

I laughed at the absurdity of it. It was official. I was crazy— crazy in the way of seeing things, leaving myself notes, and tomorrow I’d be sitting in the therapist’s office instead of my last period. And Carson still wanted me to go to prom with him.

Another thing was official. I was in love with Carson.

A wide, beautiful smile parted his lips, exposing the one chipped tooth that I found so, so charming. “I’m going to be honest here. If you’re going to say no, it’s about to get really awkward up in here.”

The swelling in my chest was back, but in a good way. Pulling back, I grasped his wrists. A horrible thought occurred. What if I had been crazy before the incident with Cassie but had hid it well? Going to prom seemed like a bad idea, but if I was crazy then, I was crazy now. And if I hadn’t done this to Cassie, what else would I be cheating myself out of experiencing?

“Sam...”

Letting go of his wrists, my arms went around his neck. Carson didn’t hesitate. His arms went around my waist, holding me just as tightly.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” He laughed, pressing his face into my hair.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping I was making the right decision. “Yes, I’ll go with you.”

*** In the rental car the following morning I turned to Scott and asked probably one of the strangest questions I could ever ask my brother. “Can you take me dress shopping?”

He choked on a piece of chocolate-frosted Pop-Tart. Part of it fell between the seat and center console of the car he’d been renting. “What?”

I flushed. “I need to get a dress for prom, and I don’t have any friends.”

Digging for the missing Pop-Tart piece, he glanced up at me. “You... you have friends, Sam.”

“No, I don’t.” Swatting his hand away, I managed to scoop out the piece and toss it back in its wrapper. “Everyone at school calls me Insanity Sam.”

“Not everyone.” He stuck the pastry in his mouth so he could back out of the garage, then returned to holding it. “Okay. Who’s taking you? If you say Del, I might thump your ass.”

I made a face. “Carson asked me.”

He spat out another piece. “And you actually said yes?”

“Yeah. I like him. A lot.”

Scott tossed the rest of his breakfast out the car window. “Man, wow, back into the twilight zone.” He slid me a sidelong look. His eyes glimmered. “He’s a much better choice then Del.”

“So you’re not going to thump Carson’s ass, then?”

“I don’t know. I think I have to, just a little bit. Being your brother and all.”

“Of course,” I agreed, grinning.

He rolled his eyes. “Julie will go with you. She was actually planning to go soon.”

Fiddling with the strap on my bag, I stared out the window, lips pursed. “I don’t want you to make her do that. It would be embarrassing.”

“I wouldn’t make her. I’ll ask her in class to see if she’s game.” He paused. “I promise if she isn’t, I won’t push it. Okay?”

“All right.”

We coasted to a stop outside Carson’s house. I leaned forward, eager to see him. The front door swung open, and there he was, in all his wet-haired glory. He looked magnificent in just jeans and a plain shirt.

Scott cleared his throat. “Did you ... did you take your meds yet?”

Distracted from my blatant ogling, I faced my brother. “Yeah, I took my first one today.”

“Do you feel the same?”

I’d taken the pill over an hour ago, and I wasn’t feeling any different. “Yeah.”

Scott dropped the conversation the moment Carson opened the back door. He slid in, dropping his bag on the seat beside him. Twisting around in my seat, I peeked over the headrest.

“Hey,” Carson said, grinning.

My smile spread. “Hey.”

A groan came from the driver. “This is going to suck.”

Carson and I grinned at each other.

“Not for me,” he said.





Chapter twenty-two





Things were sort of okay over the next week.

There hadn’t been any more visits from Detective Ramirez, and my meetings with Mrs. Messer stopped since I began seeing Dr. O’Connell.

I kind of missed her and her glasses, though.

The pills seemed to be working faster than expected. No hallucinations or random notes. However, I did find my stash of legal notepad in the office at home while looking for some paper clips. Seeing the pad of paper kind of hit home for me. That night was bad, full of tears and frustration.

But even with the pills and how things had calmed down around me, there was this growing unrest within me, usually worse at night, when I lay awake, counting the neon-green stars to make sure there were still fifty-six on the ceiling. It was like a lull in the storm, right before chaos reigned supreme. Each night, after practice, Carson came over to “watch TV” with Scott, which really was just a front to hang out with me without freaking my parents out. It seemed to be working, and those one to two hours a night had become something I looked forward to the most every day. We’d sit side by side on the couch, pretending to watch TV while Scott pretended that he wasn’t watching us like a hawk. Carson had gotten creative in ways to accidentally touch me, a brush of his hand or leg. By the time he