Bad Girls Don't Die

And having something to do with what happened to Dad?

The numbers on my digital clock glowed blue. 2:41. It was the middle of the night. I had to spend four more hours in darkness with a crazy sister in the house.

I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, listening for any sound that might mean Mom was in trouble or that Kasey was coming back. But I didn’t hear anything, and eventually I faded into an uneasy sleep.

15

The next morning I heard Kasey bumping around in her bedroom, humming, but she never came out. I’d grabbed a cold Pop-Tart and a Coke, and I was almost out the front door when Mom appeared at the top of the stairs.

How great would it have been if she’d said, “Let’s clear the air, Alexis. We’ll sit down in the dining room and you can tell me your side of the story.”

But of course that didn’t happen. She stared down at me.

“You don’t believe her, do you?” I asked.

“I don’t know what to think,” she said. “I only know what I saw. And I know that your sister is terrified of you, Alexis.”

“Kasey’s not terrified,” I said. “She’s just a really excellent liar.”

Then I saw my sister. She appeared behind Mom, moving silently, catlike, and glowering at me, arms folded.

“Maybe we just need to have a talk about it,” Mom sighed.

“Forget it,” I said. “Maybe later.” “No,” Mom said. “I don’t want to forget it. I want to resolve it.”

From where I stood, it felt pretty darn resolved already. She’d made up her mind. I scooped my schoolbag off the ground and opened the door.

“Don’t you dare walk out of this house, young lady!” Mom yelled after me.

But I did, and she only followed me as far as the foyer. I’m sure she spied out the window as I started down the street, but I didn’t want to look back and check.

My early departure got me to school super early, so I sat on a stone bench in a deserted corner of the courtyard. Carter’s car wasn’t in the parking lot yet, and I didn’t feel like talking to the Doom Squad, who were monopolizing the picnic tables with their usual lively discussions about manga and local bands, everyone trying to hog the spotlight from everyone else.

I wondered if anyone would notice if I just sat there alone, on that bench, in that corner—for the rest of high school. But eventually I got up and headed toward homeroom.

When the bell rang, I was starting to think I might get through at least a class or two without incident. And then the classroom door opened.

Kasey waltzed right in as if she did this every day. A couple of people who knew she was my sister glanced at me.

Mr. O’Brien, the teacher, looked at her curiously, but just then the morning a

The teacher looked at Kasey expectantly. Probably thinking she was a freshman with a message from the office or another teacher.

But my sister didn’t move. She just stood there.

I stood up and went to Mr. O’Brien’s desk, positioning my body so that Kasey couldn’t see my face.

“That’s my sister,” I said.

“What does she want?” he asked, craning his neck to look at her. I moved to block his view. “She should probably get to class.”

“Um,” I said. “She’s not a student here.”

He looked at me, puzzled.

I searched my head for an explanation but couldn’t find one. “I’ll be back in a minute,” I said finally.

I grabbed the hall pass from the chalkboard ledge and walked past Kasey into the hall. She followed, and I heard my classmates buzz as the door swung closed.

I kept walking until I got to the parking lot. Then I spun on her, my arms folded. “What, Kasey?”

“Mother made you an appointment with a psycho…psycho—”

“Psychologist?” I said. “Mother? You mean Mom?”

“Yes,” she said, not even blinking. “I am not supposed to say anything.”

I am not, I repeated to myself. Oughtn’t. Mother. What was with the strange speech?

Of course, that was pretty much the least of my worries.

She was so calm—that was the weirdest thing. My neurotic, scaredy-cat little sister, standing there, watching me with eyes as smooth and untroubled as a fresh blanket of snow.

“So Mom thinks I’m a criminal. That’s not news.”

Kasey glanced down at my arm, squinting a little in the sun. The marks from the previous night were hidden under my sleeve. “That’s not the only thing,” she said, smoothing her shirt and looking away into the distance. She watched me from the corner of her eye.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, wanting to reach out and shake the coolness out of her.

“I mean, she’s going to find something tonight,” Kasey said.

I didn’t answer.

“Something that will make you look very bad.”

“Like what?” I had no idea what she was hinting at.

Suddenly I caught a glimpse of the school security guard making his rounds in the distance.

I put my hand on Kasey’s shoulder and steered her away, toward the gym. She didn’t resist or even look up at me, just walked beside me as if we were taking a nice sisterly stroll.

I looked down at her again as we rounded a corner that hid us from the security guard.

“What are you trying to say?”

“You don’t want to get arrested, do you?” Kasey asked, her lips working hard to keep from smiling.

“If you’re trying to scare me, you’re going to have to be more specific,” I said.

“I’m just saying,” she said, shrugging. “Just don’t be surprised if the police show up.”

“The police? Is this because of what happened to Dad?”

She smirked.

“Do you know who’s responsible for that, Kasey?” She shrugged.

“Was it someone you know?” Her smirk twisted into an ugly smile. “If you know anything about that, you need to say something,” I said.

“Oh, don’t worry about me” she said.

I stared at her.

“Kasey,” I said slowly, “what exactly is Mom going to find tonight?”

The security guard appeared.

“You young ladies need to get to class,” he said. “Especially you, Alexis.”

Yeah, yeah. I put my hand on Kasey’s shoulder and began walking again.

“But you can prevent it,” she said.

“Prevent what?”

“The attempted murder charge,” she said.

I took a staggering step away from her.

“Just start minding your own business, Alexis,” she said. “That is all I ask of you.”

We’d stopped near a set of double doors, the entrance to the gymnasium. I glanced back toward the halls of classrooms, but Kasey headed inside.

The banquet trappings were gone; instead we found a silent shipyard of floats for the next day’s parade. We drifted through the rows, Kasey studying each float.

She finally stopped in front of one that was draped in white plastic sheeting with giant red cardboard shooting stars all over it. A long wooden bench was built on either side, so the sponsor club could sit and wave at the bystanders. Ru

“What are you doing?” I hissed at her.

“Pardon?” a voice asked, and Megan Wiley came around the front of the float.

Oh, perfect.

“Is this your float?” Kasey asked, her voice flat.

Megan glanced at me, and then smiled down at Kasey. Ever the diplomat.

“Yeah, it is. Well, it’s the cheerleaders’. Are you going to watch the parade?”

Kasey shrugged, then wandered away for a second, staring at the decorations on the side of the trailer. Megan and I were left alone. But I was too busy watching my sister to look at Megan.

Finally, Kasey came meandering back to us.

“Well, have a good day,” Megan said, and through her pristine politeness I could tell she was ready to be done with the conversation. She turned to look at the float.