Of the Trees(18)

“Don’t call them carnies, Cassie,” her mother scolded.

“Well, whatever you call them—”

“Carnival employees.”

“—They were weird and … and—”

“And what?”

Cassie squirmed in her seat, not really wanting to go into just what the carnies were. “They were pushy.”

Both of her parents stopped eating and looked at her. Her father stared blankly, trying to piece together what she meant. Her mother sported a look of growing concern.

“With you girls, you mean?” Cathy asked. Cassie nodded at her mother’s question. “Did any of them touch any of you?”

“No! Mom, geez,” Cassie huffed, feeling her face redden. Then she stiffened, realizing that she didn’t really know if any of the carnies had tried anything with Laney or Jessica. They could have. There had been plenty of time, and they did get Jessica drunk enough that they could have without her even remembering. Cassie frowned.

“Cass?” her father prodded, looking over his glasses at her.

“No, it wasn’t that,” she said. “But I found Jess with one of them.”

“Jessica Evans?”

“Yeah. She was, erm, drinking,” Cassie said. “I got her out of there, and Laney and me drove her home, but it was weird. They didn’t want her leaving, and they definitely didn’t have a problem giving her the beer.”

Her parents discussed it for an agonizing twenty minutes, finally deciding that although it showed terrible decision making on the part of Laney and Jessica, they really didn’t have enough to notify the police. That, and there was no viable connection between the carnies and Lieutenant Watson dying from exposure. The carnival was already packed up and headed to the next small town anyway.

The carnies were gone and wouldn’t be a danger to them any longer.





John Adams High School was a series of rectangular, two-story buildings that connected roughly into a square. The small patch of land left vacant in the center formed a courtyard that Cassie was only now, as a senior, allowed to access. She looked through the floor to ceiling length windows, tracks of rain trailing down the grimy glass. Puddles were forming all over the courtyard, and it looked as though she would be having lunch in the cafeteria today.

“I hate school,” Laney groaned, slamming her locker closed. Cassie pulled her attention from the empty courtyard and focused on her friend.

“Too late, you’re already here.” Cassie grinned, pulling on Laney’s sleeve to get her to stumble forward. Laney was usually grumpy on the first day of school, something Cassie had learned to deal with over the years, but being this miserable two weeks in was pushing it.

“You know what makes it worse, though?” Laney asked, her lips twisted in irritation. “That you’re so annoyingly okay with being here.”

Cassie stopped in front of her locker, ignoring Laney’s bad mood. She thumbed her lock’s combination into place, the numbers settling smoothly after years of practice, and pulled out the textbook she needed for class. The rain was picking up outside, a gentle staccato over the rumble of students’ voices and general stomping. Laney leaned back into the lockers, frowning.

“Just smell.” Cassie nudged, opening her textbook and shoving it under Laney’s nose. “Books! The best smell in the world, new books!”

Laney pushed her away, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “That is not a new book. It’s a used, old, dirty book that someone probably used as a footstool.”

“Cynic.”

“Eugh, this place is so gross. The hallways are small, and I’ve been knocked into at least eight times. My shoulder hurts already.” As though to accentuate her point, a soccer player careened into both of them, flattening them against the lockers with a clang that barely registered over the shuffling of feet, swearing, and catcalling.

“Nine!” Laney shouted, turning toward the retreating goalie and yelling down the hall. “You’ve just made it nine!”

“You should be happy,” Cassie said, pushing back from the lockers and slamming her own shut. “This is our last year! Our last first semester! Next year, we’ll be off to college.”

“Probably on separate sides of the country.”

“For the first time ever, not right next door,” Cassie continued.

“That’s a very morbid way to suggest that I enjoy the time we have left together,” Laney muttered.

“Well, you should,” Cassie said, starting down the hall toward her history class. She paused when Laney didn’t catch up to her right away. “Don’t you have English?”

“We going to that?” Laney asked instead, nodding at the poster stuck to the wall opposite them. Cassie looked over at the hand drawn poster displaying the date and time for homecoming over a poorly drawn dancing couple. Someone had already taken a sharpie to it and left graffiti all over the figures.

“Don’t you have to?” she asked. Laney was on the homecoming committee. It was a position she never wanted but got stuck with after she started working on the student council sophomore year. Laney shrugged, and Cassie looked over at the poster again.

“Yeah, I guess,” Laney said.

“You guys went with the masquerade theme, I see,” Cassie said, squinting closer at the poster. The dancing couple seemed to have masks on.