Don't Look Back (23 page)

Living was hard, but I was alive and that had to
count for something. Right now, it was harder than normal. When I got home and my mom saw my freshly slapped cheek, she went through the roof like a rocket. “We should file a police report, Steven.” She followed my father around the kitchen island. Little pieces of hair stood out from her twist like a dozen tiny fingers lining her temples. “How dare that woman hit our daughter?”

Dad grimaced. “I think contacting the police isn’t the best course of action right now.”
“I have to agree, considering it was the mom of the girl they think I killed who smacked me.”
“Samantha!” Mom whirled toward me, face aghast.
“What?” I threw my hands up. “It’s true.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Have you been taking your medication?”
“Yes,” I grumbled, sitting down on the stool. A step outside the kitchen, Scott was eavesdropping. Not as if it was necessary. Anyone within five miles of our house could hear Mom. He made a face at me when our gazes met.
Dad leaned against the bar, lowering his head so we were eye to eye. “Are you hurt?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m just surprised.”
“You’re entire cheek is bloodred.” Mom placed her cool hand against it. “Hitting our daughter is unacceptable.”
Pushing off the counter, Dad placed his hand on Mom’s lower back, but she quickly stepped away. “I think it’s best if we let this just die down,” he said, dropping his hand to his side.
A snowball’s chance in hell right there. Mom looked as if she wanted to lie down and die first, but Dad eventually got her calm. Surprisingly, Mom wasn’t drinking, which meant this was the perfect opportunity to really make her go crazy.
“So,” I drew the word out obnoxiously, earning a look from Mom. “I got a dress today for prom.”
“Oh.” Mom blinked and a faint smile appeared. “Did you? In town?”
“Yes. It’s a really pretty vintage dress from this thrift store. It’s in my room.”
“Thrift store?” she repeated slowly.
From the other room, Scott choked on his laugh. I kept my eyes focused on our parents.
“How much damage did you do on the Black?” Dad asked, referencing his credit card. I dug into my pocket and handed over the receipt. His brows shot up. “Honey, our daughter is perfect.”
She peered over his shoulders. “That’s all? I have to see the dress.”
Taking a deep breath, I slapped my hands down on my thighs. “And I have a date.”
Excitement lit her usually serious hazel eyes. “Did you and Del make up?”
There was another strangled sound from the other room, and I was two seconds from body-slamming Scott. “Uh, no . . . we didn’t make up.”
“Then who are you going to prom with, princess?”
I glanced at Dad. “I’m going with Carson.”
Mom sucked in a sharp breath and stared at me. It was almost as if I’d admitted to being part of a terrorist cell. “Samantha...”
“Don’t.” I stood, prepared to do battle. “I want to go to prom with him, and I’m going. He’s a good guy and there’s not a thing that’s wrong with him. And I swear to God, if the fact that his dad works for us is mentioned, I will lose my shit.”
“Samantha!” she snapped. “Language.”
Choosing the moment to make himself known, Scott strolled into the kitchen, clapping. “Hear! Hear! I second and third that.”
Mom folded her arms. “Scott, go to your room.”
He sat in the stool I was standing beside. “Carson is a really good guy. Better than Del the Dick.”
“Scott!” She was nearing stroke territory.
“Honey, I think ... this is a good thing.” When she started to protest, Dad gave her a meaningful look. “Let Samantha make her own choices. Just like you did.”
“That’s not the same,” she argued.
“If I remember correctly, your father didn’t think much of me, because I didn’t come from the right side of town.” He smiled, but something moved across his face. A quick grimace twisted his lips. “And Carson is a good boy. We’ve never had a problem with him.”
I bounced back on my heels. “Then it’s settled.”
Mom opened her mouth, but Dad jumped in. “It’s not like they’re getting married, for god’s sake. They’re just going to prom. That’s all.”
Suddenly, as I stared at my father, I understood what he wasn’t saying. Maybe it was because somewhere deep inside me I knew how he worked, what he truly believed. His acceptance of Carson wasn’t because he was that different from Mom, but because he saw this thing with Carson as temporary. I knew that if I announced that it was far more than temporary, he’d be joining Mom on the rocket blasting through the roof. No matter what his background was.
“Enough talk about my sister’s dating habits,” Scott said, drawing my attention. “Julie was telling me that Cassie’s mom was saying some crazy stuff.”
Back to that. I groaned. “Yeah, she kept saying that I was like ‘him,’ and I think she believes I know what happened, but I’m pretending not to.”
“Him?” Mom frowned, messing with those damn bangles.
“I don’t know.” I sat back down, shoulders slumping. “But she did say she warned Cassie to stay away from me.”
Scott rolled his eyes as he started rearranging the pears and apples in the fruit bowl. “That’s funny, because everyone needed to be warned to stay away from Cassie.”
Brushing his hands aside, Mom fixed the fruit back to the way she had them. “I really do think we should report this, Steven. The poor woman is obviously unstable.”
Dad shook his head, distracted. “We don’t need to involve the police.”
“But she’s making outlandish—”
“No police!” He slammed his hand down on the bar, causing all of us to jump. Exhaling roughly, he shook his head. “I’ll talk to Lincoln and give him a heads-up, if that makes you feel better.”
Mom stared at him, her cheeks heightened with color. “Yes. That would,” she said, her words clipped.
I glanced at Scott, who shrugged. An argument was definitely brewing, and I wanted to make a clean exit before it really got going. Watching them glare at each other and knowing that I was partially the cause of it sucked. Unnoticed by them, Scott and I slipped off the stools and out of the kitchen. The moment we rounded the corner, their voices went up.
“What do you think about them fighting?” I asked as we headed toward the basement.
Scott tossed an apple up in the air and caught it. “Who knows?” Throwing and catching the apple again, he looked at me. “But they took the Carson news surprisingly well.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, but I was distracted by how Dad had reacted to the idea of police. It had been the first time I’d seen him lose his cool, but I had a feeling I just didn’t remember all the other times.

Two Saturdays later, I stared at the bottle of pills for panic attacks. A nest of butterflies had taken up residency in my stomach and now stirred, sending warring darts of panic and excitement through me. Dr. O’Connell had said the hallucinations and memories were most likely triggered by anxiety.

And going to prom with a boy I had seriously fallen for had my nerves stretched thin.
Turning the bottle of pills over, I swallowed. Taking one of these would ensure that I didn’t freak out, but I’d be numb to everything: the first time Carson took my hand, danced with me, or—hopefully—kissed me. I wanted to
feel
it all, not just coast through it. And I was doing fine. No notes. No hallucinations. No memories. I didn’t need these pills.
Decision made, I placed the bottle back in the medicine cabinet and closed the door. My reflection suddenly stared back at me. I’d spent the better part of the afternoon and evening doing my hair and makeup so that it would look perfect.
Brown, smoky eye shadow covered my lids, accentuating the green flecks. Opting for a faint shimmer instead of blush, my cheekbones looked higher, more defined. A glossy coat on my lips gave them that ready-to-be-kissed look. As Julie had suggested, I’d had my hair done with her earlier in the day. Curled into thick ringlets, the stylist had twisted my hair up and artfully arranged the curls. A few tendrils hung loose, framing my face.
A throat cleared, and I turned. Mom stood in the doorway of my bathroom and smiled a little. “You look beautiful, honey.”
“You think?” I ran my hands down the sides of the dress.
She nodded. “You really do.”
I smiled back at her. “Thank you.”
Mom turned her head, but I saw the wetness gathering in her eyes. “Your date is waiting downstairs, getting interrogated by your father as we speak.”
My eyes widened, and the butterflies took flight, trying to claw their way out. “He’s here?”
She backed up, letting me slip past her. I grabbed my clutch and made it to the door before she stopped me. “Carson looks very nice, Samantha.”
Surprised, I glanced over my shoulder. There were no words. Hell was having a snowball fight.
“Have fun,” she said. “You deserve it.”
“I will.” I blinked back tears. No way was I ruining all this makeup. “Thank you.”
Mom ushered me out of the room. Nerves taking over, I almost didn’t go down the staircase, but she whispered words of encouragement and down I went, feeling like one of those girls in the cheesy teen movies.
Dad had Carson cornered in the sitting room off the foyer, and I grinned. Both of them had their backs turned, but from what I could see of Carson in a tux so far, I liked.
I liked a lot.
Carson must have heard my heels clacking on the floors, because he turned around, a small, plastic box in hand. Our gazes locked, and the look in his eyes curled my toes. Then his gaze dropped and the naked approval in his expression had me wishing we were alone.
But we weren’t.
Dad cleared his throat. “You look lovely, princess.”
“Wow,” Carson murmured, his eyes drifting slowly back to my face, leaving scorching heat behind. “Sam...”
“Hey,” I said, my gaze dropping to the box. “For me?”
Carson swallowed as I moved to his side. His fingers shook slightly as he slipped a beautiful lily corsage that must’ve cost a small fortune out of the box and onto my wrist. I lifted my lashes, and found him staring back at me, his eyes an intense cobalt.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
I flushed. “Thank you. So do you.” And he did. The tux fit his broad shoulders and looked good against his sunbaked complexion. Magnificent.
Surprising me again, Mom actually wanted to take pictures. We posed for a couple of shots, and the small of my back tingled from the slight pressure of his hand. Through the whole process, I felt as if I were floating.
We escaped after Dad gave my cheek a quick kiss and Carson another hard look. Stepping out into the early-evening spring air, Carson found my hand and squeezed. “I’m not sure I want to go to prom.”
“What?” I let him lead me over to his father’s truck. “You don’t want to go?”
He opened the door for me. “I’m not sure I want to share you with anyone.”
I laughed. “I’m all yours.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.” He waited until I climbed in and then bent, kissing me softly on my cheek. “I’m really, really going to hold you to that.”
A fine shiver danced over my skin as I watched him close the door. He flashed me a quick, almost wicked grin before he jogged around the front of the truck. Once behind the wheel, he turned to me.
“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” he admitted, the tops of his cheeks flushed. “That
you
are with
me
.”
A good kind of burn moved up my throat. “I can’t believe it took me this long to be here with you.”

We met Scott and Julie at the Cashtown Inn for
dinner. Reservations for the place had to have been hard to come by, but Dad had apparently pulled some favors and got the four of us a table in the packed dining room. Over a candlelight dinner, everything that had been going on faded into the background.

I hadn’t laughed so hard in so long, and I don’t think I’d ever felt this
good
before, sharing a way-too-fancy meal with my brother and his girlfriend, Carson’s hand around mine under the table.

And none of the other kids at the inn said or did anything that indicated there’d be any problems. If anything, most seemed shocked when Carson and I headed out, hand in hand.

“You ready to do some dancing?” Julie asked, looking sexy in her shimmery dress and bob.
I nodded, grinning up at Carson. “How about you?”
He moved behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. Lowering his cheek to mine, he smiled. “I’m going wherever you are.”
Scott glared at us. “I’m not sure I like this.”
“Oh, shut up.” Julie grabbed his arm, tugging him toward the car. “It’s time to party.” Grumbling, Scott let her pull him away. She looked over her shoulder, mouthing “Hot” before she smacked my brother’s butt.
I laughed, leaning into Carson. He made a sound that caused a deep flutter in my chest, and his arms tightened around me. “If we don’t leave right now for the dance,” he said, his lips brushing my ear, “I’m pretty sure we’re not going to make it.”
My cheeks were flushed the entire way to the hotel holding our senior prom. With my arm wrapped securely in his, we headed through the back entrance, following the steady beat of music and laughter to the ballroom.
I tightened my grip on his arms once we stepped inside. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting the only light over the pack of moving bodies. Lilies adorned the small round tables; what looked like garlands of roses decorated the stage under the banner. Small bushes and indoor trees were decorated with twinkling lights. The place was beautiful, surreal.
Almost immediately, friends greeted Carson. I smiled, loving the ease with which Carson dealt with people, the casualness and open friendship. People gravitated to him and, through him, to me. Several shocked looks greeted us, but I didn’t care. There wasn’t anything that could ruin this.
Julie and Scott reappeared, and before Carson and I could share one dance, she tugged me onto the floor. “Dance!” she demanded, throwing her arms up in the air.
Laughing, I obliged and learned that I wasn’t a bad dancer. Catching the beat easily, I moved to the music, losing myself in the fast rhythm. A sense of familiarity crept over me and, with it, a twinge of guilt, but I shook it off in favor of just enjoying the moment.
When the song ended, we headed back to where we’d left the guys. I bumped into a small brunette in a black dress. “Sorry!” I yelled over the music.
She turned around, eyes widening with surprise. “Sammy? You came?”
“Lauren, you look great.” And she did. The red dress fit her lithe body perfectly.
I expected her to hurl an insult in my direction, but she gave me a quick hug. “You do, too. Who did you come with?”
“Carson Ortiz.” Pride shot through me. I came with
him
.
She blinked, but her smile didn’t falter. “That’s really awesome.” Someone called her name, and she glanced away briefly before turning back to me. “Maybe we can get together soon? Catch a movie?”
“I’d like that,” I said truthfully.
“Great!” She gave me another hug. “See you around.”
Smiling, I headed back to Carson. I caught a quick glimpse of Candy grinding on Trey in a dark corner. Both looked a little tipsy. Ignoring them, I slipped my arm around Carson’s waist from behind. “Dance?”
He turned, leaving his group of friends without another word. We moved onto the dance floor, finding an empty spot. Then he slid an arm around my waist and pulled me against his chest. Our bodies molded together as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“I’m glad you persuaded me to go,” I said.
Carson smiled. “Not as happy as me.”
Loving how he seemed to always know the right thing to say, I rested my cheek on his shoulder and closed my eyes. For most of the song, we stayed like that, lost in the slow melody and each other’s arms. I couldn’t remember any other dances that I’d attended, but it didn’t matter. This was my favorite, with him, when I felt as if I weren’t tied to a past I couldn’t remember.
“I have to tell you something,” he said, turning his head so his jaw grazed my cheek.
I lifted my head, meeting his gaze. “What?”
“I don’t want this to end tonight.”
My chest swelled. “What is ‘this’?”
Carson grinned, and I realized we’d stopped moving even though others danced around us. “You. Me. Together beyond tonight. As in I’ll take you to lunch tomorrow. Keep you around for dinner if you behave.”
Feeling light, I laughed. “If I behave?”
“Mmm-hmm.” He pressed his forehead against mine, his lips coming so intoxicatingly close. “And if you’re really good, I expect to see you after practice on Monday. Then maybe a movie on Tuesday.”
My eyes drifted shut. “What about Wednesday and going on forward?”
“That depends on if you’re good or bad.”
“What happens if I’m bad?”
“Good question.” His hands slid to my hips and a wealth of heat followed the movement. “We’d have to work out some kind of punitive system. Bad could be good.”
I started to smile. “Then what’s good?”
“Good is good.” He moved his lips over my cheek, and my breath caught. “See, I was kind of full of it a few seconds ago. You can behave or misbehave. I want a Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday with you. Several of them, back to back and so on.”
A flash of guilt threatened to ruin the moment like an uninvited guest, trying to dig its claws in, but I opened my eyes. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”
“So it would seem.” His eyes glimmered.
“Well, I like the sound of that. Have for probably longer than I should admit.”
His lips parted, and his mouth lowered to mine. Air got hitched in my throat, and my pulse thrummed. This was it. He was going to kiss me. Finally. Every cell in my body waited in sweet anticipation because I knew that even though I didn’t remember all my other kisses, this one would so blow them out of the water.
Out of nowhere, Scott bumped into us. “I think there’s a rule about space between partners. Don’t make me enforce it.”
Julie hung her head in shame. “You’re
so
embarrassing.”
I scowled at my brother, but Carson chuckled. “Way to kill the mood, bro.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” He grinned cheekily, spinning Julie away from us.
Carson sighed. “Your brother...”
“Is a lovable idiot?” Mood ruined, I glanced around and cleared my throat. “I think I need to...”
He kissed my cheek. “I’ll get us something to drink.”
Reluctantly, I pulled free and headed toward the entrance. Our conversation had left me in a heady daze. My heart was doing little backflips, and I wanted to go find Julie and tell her that Carson and I were dating. There was definitely a squeal building up, demanding to be shared. Right now, it was a first for me and I floated as if I were walking on balloons.
I pushed on the bathroom door, and right away I wished I’d gone anywhere but there.
At the sink, Veronica grabbed a sheet of brown paper towel and scrubbed under her eyes, furiously wiping at the mascara. I started to hightail my butt out of there, but girl code demanded that I at least check on her.
Cursing myself under my breath, I let the bathroom door shut behind me. “Veronica, are you okay?”
Her lashes lifted. “What does it look like? I’m fantastic.”
And that was why I hated girl code. Shaking my head, I turned back for the door. There had to be other bathrooms around.
“I thought he actually liked me,” she said, voice cracking. “Wasn’t I stupid? I bet that just makes you so freaking happy.”
With a sinking feeling, I faced her. “Del?”
“Who else?” She laughed as she dabbed at the pink skin under her eyes. “He finally dumped you, and I had my chance. There wasn’t even Cassie to get in the way.”
I thought about correcting who broke up with whom but decided against it. “Seeing you cry doesn’t make me happy.”
She threw the towel on the floor and spun around, gripping the edge of the sink. The intricate curls atop her head bounced off her tear-stained cheeks. “All he’s done is talk about you. About how you guys were just taking a break—that you two will get back together. I’m so sick of it!”
I was dumbfounded. “We’re not getting back together.”
“You should try telling him that.” Veronica threw up her hands. Nails painted to match her bloodred dress. Dizziness crept up on me. “Not that it matters. He told me that your mothers are planning a trip for you to the Poconos to patch things up.”
My mouth dropped. Oh my god, I was going to strangle that woman. And here I thought she’d been making progress tonight.
Ugh.
“Del and I aren’t going on any trip.”
Veronica started to laugh, but then it choked off. She sniffed. “You’re not.”
“He’s all yours if you want him, but seriously, do you want him?”
She stared at me as if I’d suggested we go kick some puppies in the street. “Everyone wants him.”
“No, not everyone does.” Again, I started to turn but stopped. “You deserve better than some guy who spends his time talking about someone else.”
Snatching another paper towel, she blotted her face. “Why are you being nice to me?”
Good question. “Why not?”
She sniffed again, turning back to the mirror. “Whatever.”
I left the bathroom then and nearly plowed into Candy and a gaggle of girls. Oh, for the love of God...
Candy popped her hand on her hip. “How far have you fallen? Dating the help?”
“How desperate are
you
?” I shot back. “Dating your dead friend’s ex-boyfriend?”
Her eyes shot wide and then narrowed, but I pushed past the girls. They followed me back into the ballroom, talking crap the entire way. I deserved a medal for not turning around and hitting one of them.
“Are you going to cry?” Candy crooned.
“What?” I frowned but kept going. Almost to the ballroom...
almost
.
“Or are you going to freak out and need to see your therapist?”
I spun around. “Why don’t you try acting like a real friend and go check the bathroom instead of following me around like a pathetic puppy?”
Candy cocked her head to the side. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your friend—Veronica? She could use you right now. She’s in the bathroom. Not having a very good time.”
Her nose scrunched up as if I’d just asked her to figure out the square root of three. “You’re probably seeing things again, huh? Veronica is having a great time. She’s going to be voted prom queen.”
I gave up at that point. “Whatever.”
“Insanity Sam!” Candy trilled, earning a few chuckles.
I rolled my eyes. “Clever, real clever.”
She bobbed her head at me like an ostrich and then turned on her heel, teetering away. A few girls were left, and I met their stares. Something in my eyes must’ve reminded them of the old Sammy because they scattered like cockroaches.
Refusing to let any of them ruin my one night of normalcy, I entered the ballroom and searched for Carson. Spotting him with my brother and a few other baseball players, I headed in his direction.
A tall, slender body suddenly appeared in front of me, dressed in red. In an instant, the dancing bodies, the music, and the dazzling lights all disappeared. The world turned gray.
Cassie was in front of me
.
Her pretty dress was ragged and hung limply from her ghastly pale arms. A dark oily substance seeped down her face. I took a step forward. The side of her head... it was shaped wrong, sunken in.
Cracked. Shattered.
Bile rose in my throat. “Cassie,” I whispered.
And I realized then she wasn’t really standing. Her arms and legs sort of waved in a lazy rhythm, as if something carried her body. Part of me recognized what I was seeing—Cassie floating in the lake, which explained the doll-like vacancy in her eyes.
Another form appeared between us, scrambling through the air ... or over the boulders
.
Moonlight reflected off the slender body. Wind blew back long strands as she screamed out, “Cassie!”
My heart stuttered. It was me—me staring down at Cassie’s body
.
From the darkness, someone appeared, reaching out to the gray version of me. I turned, horror and disbelief etched into my face. My face contorted as I stood, taking a step back.
The other person was taller, broader. Frustration boiled in me. I couldn’t see his face!
He reached for me, and I could taste the panic pulsating off both of us. My foot slipped on the rock; my arms flailed as I tried to keep my balance, to grab for something—for him. A silent scream parted my lips as my body bent in half.
And then I tumbled over backward—gone, falling as the dark void reached up and pulled me down. Gone.
I jerked out of the vision when a body bumped into mine. Dazed, I twisted around.
A face leered into mine. “What are you doing? Move out of the way, freak.”
Barely hearing the words, I stumbled toward the doors. Horrible as it sounded, excitement pulsed through me. It hadn’t been just Cassie and me. Someone else had been there with us.
And then a different scenario crept into my thoughts. The other person might not have pushed Cassie. I’d been the one on the edge of the cliff, screaming her name. He could’ve been there, witnessed it all. But that didn’t make sense. If there had been a third person and he had seen me, why hadn’t he gone to the police?
He would’ve, unless he had something to hide. I had to talk to Carson.
Pulling my cell out of the clutch, I sent Carson a quick text, telling him I was going outside for some air just in case he started looking for me. Leaving the ballroom behind, I stepped into the dimly lit hallway that led to the back parking lot. My heels clicked on the floor, a steady echo that kept me company. I placed my hand on the cooled glass of the door, stopping when goose bumps spread across my flesh. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck rose.
I looked over my shoulder, scanning the empty hall. No one was there, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It swirled inside me, like dark ink spilled into water. Pushing open the door, I stepped out into the night air and refused to look behind me.
Ignore the feelings—they aren’t real.
The memories were, but everything else was just me freaking myself out ... or trying to communicate with myself, which was odd and downright insane-sounding.
I clicked across the parking lot while every nerve seemed to be firing at once.
Look back. You’ll see him. He’s there. Waiting and watching
. My heart started racing as fast as it had when Carson had come so very close to kissing me while we danced. Only not as pleasant.
My cell phone chirped loudly from inside my clutch, causing me to jump and almost eat asphalt. Placing my hand over my slamming heart, I let out a shaky laugh. Scared to death by a text message.
Jeez.
Stopping beside a large tree, I dug out my cell. Carson’s name flashed across my screen.
Then I heard it, the equal, measured steps—heavy and foreboding, sending my pulse racing. Ice formed tight balls inside my stomach.