Chasing Casey - Chapter #2 - Free To Read

Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

The flame danced restlessly in front of me. I watched it, void of emotion. Eventually, I lit the end of the cigarette firmly planted in between my fingers. I inhaled, feeling the familiar sensation of smoke filling my lungs.

I hated smoking. Casey hated smoking. So, I did it. It was some sort of coping mechanism I'd adopted, that I didn't quite understand myself. I was so angry with him. I guess it was a way of punishment. My own personal 'screw you' to him for doing this to me.

It was almost 2am. There was a significant chill in the room that had me draped in one of Casey's sweaters. I hated him, but I couldn't deny that his clothes provided comfort and just something my own apparel couldn't. I guess it was just knowing they were his.

After he died, I went to his place. I took all his jumpers and shirts. I now wear them. Not in public, usually, but around my house. Mum thinks it's weird. It is, I guess. But seeing as I was 'in a state of deep depression', or so I'm told, I don't really give a shit. I can do what I want to make myself feel better.

I stared at the cigarette, hating myself for doing this. If Casey were here, he would drag me outside and drench me with a hose. He would sit me down, whilst my teeth would be chattering and my body engulfed in goose bumps and scold me for being stupid. His grandmother died of lung cancer. He took smoking very seriously. I used to as well.

Everything is different now.

I can't really describe what is happening. Casey's dead. I went to his funeral.

But he wasn't dead. How could he be, when he leaves me messages?

At first, I was convinced it was a sick joke. In response, I shut down all my social media and only ventured outside when necessary. But now, I'm not so sure. How would this sick, twisted individual hell-bent on torturing me, know these things? These personal, whispered secrets only Casey would know?

I wasn't scared. If anything, a new feeling of calm had settled over me. It was like knowing he was alive. Not with me, but somewhere. And that was enough to get me out of bed each day.

The messages had become dull, if I'm honest. They weren't as riddle-like. They weren't taunting me anymore. It was like he realised I'd given up.

After he died, or didn't, everything around me collapsed. I couldn't cope. We moved. I had to leave school. No one looked at me the same. Everyone knew some part of me died, too. I had a year off, going in and out of hospital for different things. After my third alcohol-related incident, my counselling sessions were upped and I was forced to return to school.

"You need to go out there, socialise, make some new friends," my mother urged. "Talking with others will do you a world of good, honey. You'll see."

I now was a part of Kingston High, forced to re-take my senior year with a bunch of strangers. It was nice to know that not every single person stared at me with sympathy. I had made a few friends. I didn't make much effort. Most people just thought I was weird.

Too quiet, too dark, too anti-social.

A few tried to get me to come out with them. Sometimes I just did because why not? Casey stole my life. It was time I needed to start living. Then I would go out, remember that I hate myself and everyone, and go back to my room where I would smoke in spite of myself and wait for a message from my dead best friend.

I'm not sure I even believed that it was him. That it was real. A part of me knew I was somewhat insane. But then I question; would someone insane question whether they are really insane? I don't know. It gets complex after that. My head starts to hurt and I stop thinking. I take some sleeping pills to let me pass out. Sometimes I can sleep alright, but that's only sometimes.

The clock flashed 2am.

Taking one last drag, I dropped my cigarette onto the newspaper below me and stamped. I blew on the candle, the light fizzling out of my room. I wandered into my bed and waited. I was met with eerie silence, as usual. My phone vibrated at 2:30. Slowly, I got to my feet and wandered absently towards my window. I gently trailed my fingers down the cool glass. Written in the condensation, was a message.

I miss you.

***

Wincing, I cupped my hand, attempting to shield myself from the harsh rays of the sun. In Kingston, the sun shone too brightly but penetrated no heat. The cool, harsh wind slapped my cheeks as I trudged into the rusty gates of Kingston High.

I headed straight to the bathroom, in need of some warmth. I stepped in, coming face-to-face with my reflection.

My once, lightly tanned skin had faded into a smooth, pale complexion. My dark hair was long, twisted into a messy plait down my shoulder. My petite figure was wrapped in a dark coat, with a large, white scarf suffocating my neck. I wasn't tall, nor was I short. I had light freckles spread under my eyes and mossy green eyes that were now dull. My light pink lips were chapped from the weather and my nose red.

A sigh escaped me. Still to this day, I wanted Casey to just appear. I wanted him to wrap his arms around me and press his warm lips to my nose. I wanted to feel his body heat seep into mine, making me alive with energy. His touch was exhilarating, even after all the time we spent together.

"Oh, hi Sadie," a voice said, causing me to drag my eyes from myself. I stared at Marissa, who was of the only humans around here that I could stand. I gave her a stiff nod as she slipped into a stall. "What's your first class?"

"English." I forced out, my throat hoarse.

"Oh cool, me too."

Folding my arms across my chest, I leaned against the mirror and waited. Marissa emerged and I stared at her. She was a tall girl with a slender build. She had rosy red cheeks and soft, auburn hair to match. She had bright, green eyes and unnaturally red lips. She gave me a grin. I almost gave her one back.

She knew something serious had happened to me, but never asked. That's why I liked her. She must have known something was up, but never pried. That had my respect. I might tell her one day. I've never told anyone. Might be nice.

"What did you get up to on the weekend?" She asked as we stepped out.

I shrugged, sighing into the cool wind. "Nothing. Yourself?"

"I went to that party I told you about."

"Was it thrilling?"

"So-so," she shrugged. "I met a nice guy."

I cringed. "Sounds great."

"We actually went out to dinner last night. It was really nice. He has this friend..." She trailed off, throwing me a small smile.

"Not with the match making again," I groaned.

I didn't really mind. If anyone else did it, I'd probably punch them. But with Marissa, she was too nice. She was just trying to get me out there. In a way, I appreciated it. She didn't know what I've been through, so I couldn't be mad. I was starting to miss socialising and being with others. My own company was miserable.

"He's really cute, I promise. We could go on a double date?"

"Don't put him through the torture."

"Sadie." She frowned.

Thankfully, we reached class. I shouldered in and found my desk at the back. Marissa followed suit, throwing her books loudly down beside me. The topic of me dating was dropped.

Although I often dismissed Marissa's invitations, she stayed determined. I think she knew I was slowly becoming more comfortable with her. She knew I was going to give in and say yes one day. I did attend a party with her once. It was okay. I didn't drink and everyone else did, which made it worse. The next time would be different. I just don't know if I'm ready. If I ever will be.

Class started. With my chin in my palm, I gazed forward. Ms Harper had a soft spot for me. Well, I was first in the class. She was generous with my marks, even when I feel I don't always deserve them. She is a big believer that I could achieve something great with my writing. She was the most encouraging person I've ever met. She was a very bubbly, the glass is half-full type of person. My dark, depressing stories were not her cup of tea. She insists I could write an award-winning short story and smash my exams. I don't think I can write what she wants. I'm trying, but it's not working out.

I know a story about Casey could be great. Our topic was 'belonging'. My love story with him ticked all the boxes. But, I was filled with so much despair and hatred towards him now that the loving words I once had for him were now twisted and dark, unless I was having a good day. They were rare though.

A large clatter snapped me back to the present. I internally groaned as Owen Pearson fumbled through the classroom door. His shirt was inside out and his hair sticking up at odd angles. The class laughed as he came to a hasty stop. His cheeks were tinged pink. He gave Ms Harper a tight-lipped smiling, before moving to his seat in front of me. She only sighed, this not being the first time he arrived dishrevelled and late. He gave me a boyish grin.

Owen was Marissa's good friend. He liked me. It wasn't a cute little crush that was subtle. He made it aware to everyone. He often made extravagant gestures to me. It had become a running joke of the school. He would come up with an elaborate way to ask me out almost once a week and I would, in my blunt manner, shut him down. There was even a 'vine' made of it. It went viral, according to my peers. I don't even know what a vine video is. Marissa tried to explain but I was in a mood and didn't bother to listen.

I thought he was making fun of me at first, but I really do think he likes me. No idea why he would.

"Going to say hi to your lover?" Marissa asked with a giggle.

I sighed deeply through my nose. "He exhausts me."

"It's pretty cute though, you must admit."

"Writing 'will you date me' on a toy race car and driving it through the school is humiliating, not cute."

She barked out a laugh, causing heads to swivel our direction. Ms Harper quirked an eyebrow at me, probably surprised I made someone laugh. Marissa slapped her hand to her mouth in attempt to stifle her giggles. I shook my head, a ghost of a smile dancing on my lips.

"What's so funny?" Owen asked, leaning back on his chair.

"Your face." I deadpanned, not bothering to look at him.

He was cute, surprisingly. It was weird. For someone so cute and seemingly a nice person, he should have girls lining after him. Which I'm sure he did. I know of one, in particular. Why he focused so much attention on me, was bizarre. It's not like I went out of my way to make myself look nice. Sure, my skin was pretty clear and I guess I was naturally pretty, but I wasn't as gorgeous as some of the other girls at our school. Maybe the old motto 'treat em' mean, keep em' keen' was true. Maybe that's where I went wrong with Casey.

Casey. That is the sole reason why this guy and I could never date. No one compared to him. It would be unfair. I couldn't do that to Owen.

"Oh Sadie. Your ever-so-charming personality is like sunshine on a rainy day."

"It's too early for this."

"You know I hate when you play hard to get."

A couple people around us giggled and Ms Harper clapped. "Owen, leave the poor girl alone. You're going to drive her out of the school if you keep this up."

Marissa snorted and Owen's face fell. He flung forward to his desk and I sent a small smile to Ms Harper. Thankfully, the rest of the class sailed by pretty uneventfully. We got out essay marks back. Marissa groaned beside me, quickly shoving the paper into her bag.

"Not good?" I asked, barely even glancing at mine as we began walking out of the classroom.

"11/20," she sighed.

"Hey," I said, forcing myself to sound sympathetic. "You got over half. That's a pass. It's a great mark."

She blinked at me in surprise. I usually didn't have such an optimistic view. "Not in my mother's eyes. What did you get? Full marks?"

"I'm not telling you."

"You did, didn't you?" She persisted. "Maybe you should tutor me. Or we could just swap brains."

I awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. "Trust me, you don't want that."

We had to part ways for next period, but no doubt, she would be waiting for me outside the cafeteria at the beginning of lunch. Owen, most likely, hot on my heels.

After a painfully boring lesson, I was walking towards the cafeteria when I heard him.

"Sadie! Hey, Sadie!"

I didn't bother to turn, knowing he would catch up to me anyway. He fell in step with me, out of breath.

"Oh hi, didn't see you there," he said in a rush. His shirt was still inside out. "What's up?"

"Walking to lunch."

"Oh cool, me too."

I couldn't resist rolling my eyes.

"So, about the race car..."

We rounded the corner and Marissa was there, leaning on the wall. She waved, beaming at me.

"Hey you two," she grinned, her eyes darting between the pair of us.

"Hello," Owen replied, glancing at me, annoyed that he couldn't discuss the last time he asked me out.

"Shall we?" she asked, pushing open the door.

As Marissa charged ahead, Owen dropped back, our arms brushing. "So, about Thursday-"

"Owen-"

"Was it too much? I cold tone it down a little-"

"Everything is too much."

"Okay, so more straight-forward?" He asked hopefully. "What about-"

I blew out a big whoosh of air. Owen was cut off, as someone shoulder barged me. I stumbled back, my bag slipping off my shoulder.

"Oh, sorry," Amelia said with mock sincerity. "My bad."

"Your face is so punchable Amelia, need a demonstration?" I asked her.

She narrowed her eyes at me, her lips twisting into a scowl. "Love to see you try."

"Don't offer when you don't mean it." I rolled my eyes.

Owen fumbled to pick up my bag. Amelia was your typical high school mean girl. It was obvious she wanted Owen's attention. Unfortunately since he was preoccupied with myself, Amelia made it her life's effort to annoy the shit out of me, thinking it would achieve something. I would honestly love it if she took him off my hands.

"Amelia, pick on someone your own size." Marissa snapped and Own frowned up at her. She was clearly winning him over. Oh yeah, she was also a giant. I came up to her chest, barely. She sneered, striding away.

"You okay?" Owen asked with concern.

"Yeah, I don't care." I said dismissively, collapsing in the seat beside Marissa. "I'm embarrassed for her, really."

Marissa nodded in agreement.

I withdrew an apple from my bag and took a tentative bite. Marissa leaned forward, her eyes glistening.

"What?" I asked, my voice muffled from the apple.

"I have a proposition for you."

"Ugh," I groaned, giving her a pained look.

"Josh, from history, is having a gathering this weekend. And guess what?" she asked, her eyes bright and her cheeks pink.

I stared at her flatly.

"He asked if you would come."

"He what?" Owen interjected with a frown.

We both ignored him.

"Why would he ask that? I don't even know him."

She shrugged. "Maybe he'd like to change that."

"The hell he will," Owen muttered.

"Where is the so-called gathering?" I asked, actually kind of interested.

I'm seriously sick of sitting by myself every night. Maybe it would be okay to let myself go out for once and do something.

"Just at his place, about ten minutes out of town. He's going to have a fire and everything. Sounds pretty good. You really should come."

"Yeah," Owen said. "Please? For me though, obviously, not Josh."

I breathed a quiet laugh. "I guess it wouldn't hurt."

Owen's eyes almost popped out of his skull. Marissa squeal was so high-pitched that several people turned to stare. I shrunk slightly at their gazes.

"Seriously? You'll come?"

"I suppose so."

"Yay!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands. Her cheeks were flushed as she beamed at me. "You can't back out now. You're coming, whether you like it or not."

"I said I would."

"Want to come to mine first and get ready? And do pres? You're drinking, right?"

I haven't drank for about six months. After I had a few, 'accidents', I swore off alcohol. I was actually excited to have a few again. It might be fun.

"Sure."

Owen was still staring open-mouthed. He clearly couldn't comprehend the fact that I actually said yes.

"I love you!" She gasped, her smile unable to get any wider. I rolled my eyes, my own smile slightly appearing.

I hope I wasn't going to regret this.

***

I stared at the back of Josh McCall's head. I let my eyes slowly dip over him. He was tall. He was skinny but had defined muscles. He had olive skin, dark eyes and light, chestnut hair. He was pretty cute. One of the cuter guys at school, not that I usually took much notice.

Why would he ask if I would go to his party? Or was that just something Marissa said in attempt it would somehow persuade me to attend?

Last night, when I was attempting to write my creative writing story, I thought about the party. The doubts began. I wouldn't be comfortable. People would ask me why I was there. And I would be drinking, which was something I told myself I shouldn't do anymore.

Was it a smart decision? I guess I wouldn't know unless I went. I had placed the cigarette in between my lips and frowned down at my paper. The same words were written there. I had tried again and achieved nothing. It was almost 2am. With a sigh, I blew out my candle and re-lit my cigarette. I perched on my chair and inhaled, not looking over the window. I stood stock-still for half an hour, going through two cigarettes, before getting up. I stretched, my muscles protesting against my lack of movement.

I cocked my head curiously at the window. The message was different. It was usually something like 'my love', 'I miss you', 'I'm sorry'. My heart seemingly skipped a beat as I realised what it meant.

How...?

I stared at the message, feeling a wave of cold wash over me.

"You're thinking about Josh, aren't you?" Owen asked, drawing me out of my flashback to last night.

Reluctantly, I dragged my eyes towards Owen. "Kind of."

"About what Marissa said?"

"Yeah."

"I don't like the guy." He said, eyes narrowed.

"You did before yesterday."

"No I didn't." he argued but I knew it was a lie. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. Owen was ridiculous. "Seriously."

"Okay."

The bell buzzed loudly overhead, signalling the end to another painful lesson of history. Clambering to my feet, I began gathering my things, when I saw a pair of shoes stop in front of me. Brushing my hair back from my face, I glanced up at Josh.

"Hey Sadie," he said casually, giving me a lope-sided smile.

"Hi Josh." I returned in the same tone, continuing to pack away my stuff.

"Hey Owen," Owen muttered not-so-subtly, clearly unimpressed.

We both ignored him.

"I heard you're coming to my party this weekend?" He asked, a dimple appearing on his left cheek. I stared at him for a moment. A better word would probably be scrutinised. Was he playing me? Was this a joke? I searched his eyes intently, trying to find something joking there. He seemed quite serious.

"If the invitation still stands."

"It does." He smiled and I couldn't help give him a small smile back.

Owen let out an irritated sigh. Josh glanced at him. "You coming, man?"

He just nodded, his jaw clenched.

Rolling my lips into my mouth, I thought back to last night. The message.

Don't go.

Don't go to the party, I'm assuming. How he knew, if it was him, was beyond me. But it only made me more determined to go. The message evaporated all doubts that had clouded my mind.

"I'll see you there, then?" Josh asked, rolling up the sleeves of his jumper, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I'll be there." I said, my voice strong.

"Good."

With that, he turned and walked from me. I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding.

"Just great," Owen muttered.

I felt a little sorry for Owen. I didn't mean to flirt with Josh in front of him, it just kind of happened. We were flirting, right? I didn't even know anymore. I never bothered with boys after Casey. Or even when Casey was alive. He was the only one for me.

Maybe it was time that changed.

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