“What should we do?” Violet asked.
Casey shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I honestly didn’t think much past hiding when I saw all the people. I was just afraid they’d bombard you like you see on TV.”
Violet shuddered at the thought of reporters asking questions she couldn’t answer, with cameras recording it all. “Thanks,” she said.
Casey shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”
Behind them came the sounds of footsteps, and they both turned to see who was approaching. But instead of finding a person, Casey was met with a wet nose and a big tongue licking her face. Her pensive mood forgotten, she laughed, her hands sinking into the dog’s coat as she reached out to pet him.
“Chipper,” Violet said. Chipper was the Bergs’ Irish setter, most often at Micah’s side, especially lately. Violet often wondered if Micah felt like Chipper was the only friend he had left.
Instinctively, she looked up to find the boy she’d loved from afar for as long as she could remember standing just an arm’s length away. She stood, suddenly not caring if the reporters found her. She would not crouch on her haunches as Micah Berg stood over her.
It took her a second to find her voice. “Sorry,” she said. “For being in your yard.” She hitched her thumb backward, indicating the crowd of people in her yard as explanation. She wasn’t sure whether he would recognize her, whether he would realize she was the girl who belonged in that house. She wondered if he was just glad a crisis was occurring somewhere else. Maybe take the heat off him.
He nodded but didn’t smile. Micah was wearing his Yankees cap, but with the brim facing front like normal. He used to always wear it backward, before everything happened. It was kind of his trademark. But he didn’t anymore. Violet thought it was because he was trying to say he wasn’t the same person.
He was holding a basketball, which he now spun nervously as his gaze traveled from Violet to Casey. “Hey, Casey,” he said.
“Micah,” Casey responded, but she kept her eyes on the dog. She gestured to Violet. “You know Violet? Your neighbor?” There was a tone of sarcasm in her voice, and Violet wished she’d shut up. She didn’t want Micah to associate her with Casey’s hard feelings about him. She didn’t want him to think she shared them.
“Sure,” he said, and nodded at Violet again. This was the most interaction they’d had since one time last year when he had a whole conversation with Sean Withers at the locker next to hers, and she pretended she couldn’t find her book just so she could smell his cologne for a few moments longer. When he’d walked away, their eyes had met. He’d looked into her eyes and said “Hey,” and she swore her heart had literally skipped a beat.
“Y’all wanna go out through my backyard?” he asked now. He dipped his chin in the direction of Violet’s house and gave them a cryptic grin. “Not like you can go back that way.”
“Yeah,” Casey said. “We kinda got trapped.” Her voice sounded like she’d forgotten she was mad at him.
Micah rolled his eyes. “I know how that feels,” he said, and Violet saw Casey’s eyes flash as she remembered that Micah Berg was her enemy.
“Is there, like, a fence back there we have to climb over?” Violet hurried to ask before Casey could say something mean.
“There is,” Micah answered. “But I can show you how you can walk around it, cut through the next-door neighbor’s yard. They don’t mind.”
“OK, that would be great,” Violet said, sounding childish and stupid to her own ears. But if she kept talking, then hopefully Casey wouldn’t.
Chipper had flopped down at Micah’s feet, and he roused the dog with the same low whistle she often heard through her open window at night. “Come on, Chip, let’s show these ladies out.”
The boy and the dog started walking, and the girls fell into step as they followed them toward the backyard. But this time Violet didn’t watch Casey’s ponytail as they walked. She watched the back of Micah Berg’s head, committing this moment to memory so she could relive it again and again in the days to come. It was a comfort to be this close to Micah Berg, to have exchanged words with him and be properly introduced. In a desert, she thought, you’re grateful for every drop of water you can find.
Casey
They walked into the house to find Nicole sitting in the front room waiting for them. She hopped up like a jack-in-the-box as soon as the door opened. “Where were you?” she asked, a note of betrayal in her voice.
Casey answered calmly. “We went for a walk.” What she wanted to say was, None of your damn business. But that would only stir up the old sibling rivalry. Casey was older now, a college student, above such trivial things. Even if she was still angry at Nicole for what she had said about Violet’s mother; Nicole was supposed to be Violet’s best friend. Talk about insensitive. About as insensitive as Micah Berg—the asshole—comparing his situation to Violet’s. Violet had done nothing wrong. But Micah had done plenty. Why was it that lately all Casey did was run across asshole guys who didn’t accept responsibility for their actions?
Violet said, “There’s a bunch of reporters in front of my house, so we hid in Micah Berg’s yard. And he found us there. It was so embarrassing.” Casey looked over at Violet, wondering why she was being nice to Nicole after what she had said. She needed to help this girl out, teach her the ways of the world before it trounced her good.
“Micah Berg?
