Disequilibrium

Part 3: Junior Year - Scene 13

Two months later

"People are giving up," is the first thing Casper says when he reaches my locker. He leans against the one beside mine, eyes wandering around the hall. "Just look at them. They're laughing easier now. Joking better. Things are going back to normal, and nobody even says her name anymore."

I slam my locker shut, feeling a little pissed that he's still thinking about it. "Well what do you expect people to do? The cops have no leads on anybody, so it's easier to forget it." Please just forget it.

"But isn't that wrong? What about her?"

"Then what do you want people to do? Go out at night searching for a killer? Let the cops put everyone under surveillance? There's nothing to do anymore, Cas. Let it go."

My voice sounds harsher than I meant it to, causing him to stiffen at his spot, eyes trapped on his shoes. "But that person is still out there. Just because things are quiet now doesn't mean it won't happen again. It could be any one of these people, or me, or—"

"Casper."

He shuts up, but still looks bothered by it. I sigh and lean against my locker with him, trying to smile to make the mood better but he's still not looking at me. He only stares at the passing people.

"Alright, fine, I'm sorry," I say. "I know how much this thing freaks you out."

"What's weird is how much it doesn't freak you out."

I ignore the comment, still holding onto the smile the best I can. "What will make you happy, huh? Do you want to leave and get some burgers for lunch? Or we can ditch and do something fun like—"

"You think I can hang out with my friends today? My parents are up on my ass about the days we missed, Holden. I'm not as smart as you; I can't pick things up so easily. And besides, it's not right for us to constantly be together. You get that, don't you? I need my own friends too."

He's been finding it easier to make me feel like shit lately. Each word he says feels like blades slicing into my skin sometimes, cutting me open to find something more when there's nothing there. It's my turn to look away as I stare at my shoes, swallowing a million times to keep the anger down.

Casper pushes himself off the locker to stand in front of me, trying to sneak a peek at my eyes. "Oh come on, Holden, don't make that face. I meant nothing bad by it." When I don't answer, he sighs. "Why don't you eat with us for once then? You can finally meet them and they can get to know you. And hell, maybe you'll find someone you click with. That you can talk to other than me. Does that sound good?"

It sounds goddamn awful, and I'd rather be pulling my nails out than eat with them, but I know he's trying. It shows on his face. So I say yeah, sure, okay and peel away from the locker, walking in step with him to the cafeteria.

When we finally reach the doors, my legs quiver a little under me. I tell him I don't think I can do it when in reality, I just don't want to. I can see them through the window—a cluster-fuck of students sitting in herds, talking, eating, and laughing all at the same time. A guy throws something across the table to another. A girl is texting while her friend tries to get her attention. And in the middle of the chaos, I spot what I presume to be his table. Only four people fill it, one of them being Winston.

Casper takes my hand and gives a light squeeze before dropping it, offering a smile. "Come on," he says, and opens the door. "It'll be fine."

He's already inside and making his way to the table before I can change my mind. I shadow him like a pup out of his environment, trying to ignore the wandering eyes that follow us. It's nothing compared to the hard stare his friends give when we reach the table. He sits down. I do too. They're still staring.