Kiss the Morning Star by Elissa Janine Hoole Page B

they? Why didn’t they say something if they were going to leave?
    We go into the back room, and Shaggy packs a bong. I accept it when Kat hands it over, but it feels less like an exciting adventure and more like an amplifier for the anxiety building up in my belly. We smoke mostly in silence. I pass on the last couple of rounds, but it keeps going back and forth until both Katy and Shaggy are practically catatonic. I look from one to the other, and I hate it. I feel trapped.
    “What do we do if they don’t come back?”
    “They’ll come back,” says Kat. “Why would they just leave?”
    “Because that’s who they are,” Shaggy says, his voice dark. “They’re just the kind who would find it funny to abandon you two here.” He shrugs. “I’m not sayin’ that’s what happened, you know. I’m just sayin’ that girl Casey is classic mean. Way back even as far as middle school, she ruled this little crew of mean girls with a combination of charm and brute force. Sammi was her sidekick, the desperate fat girl. The one who took the brunt of Casey’s abuse and kept coming back for more, just for the privilege of being included.”
    Kat nods. “Yeah, I can see that,” she says. “But Casey definitely likes you.”
    “Bad boy complex,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. “I was two years ahead of her in school, had a motorcycle, you know. She was always hanging around, looking for danger and something to piss off her parents. Luckily, I was good friends with her brother-in-law, and I knew better than to mess with her.”
    “You know Leroy.” The mention of our mechanic fills me with relief somehow. Leroy feels like an old friend, and if Shaggy knows him, well, there’s hope of us getting back to our car, even if Casey and Sammi did abandon us.
    “Yeah, Leroy and I grew up together. His wife, Casey’s older sister, now she’s a classy girl. Donna got all the goodness, all the sweetness in that family.”
    “But you don’t really think Casey would just leave us here, do you?” I can’t quite believe in this kind of mean. Like, in the abstract, sure. I know there are people who are that mean. But to me? To Katy? “They probably just went out to get some coffee or something.” My confidence runs out. “Don’t you think?”
    Kat twists her hair. “How far away are we? From Gillette, I mean.”
    Shaggy shrugs. “About a hundred an’ eighty miles, I guess. Takes two and a half or three hours to get up there.”
    “Maybe we could rent a car,” says Kat.
    “And anyway, I was just running my mouth, you know. Things change. People change. I mean, look at Sammi.”
    I realize I’m chewing on the side of my index finger, and I pull it out. My side hurts, a dull ache like a sunburn. The kind of change that Shaggy’s talking about—the kind where nasty high school girls mature into reasonably kind and accepting people—that kind of change isn’t about losing a hundred pounds and getting a nose job.
    “Maybe we should see if we can find their car,” Kat says. “You remember what kind it was, Anna?”
    I search through my brain for details, but it feels kind of like an office building after hours, with lights clicking off on all the floors, one by one. I muddle around in the dark for a bit and come up with, “It was light blue. And it had two doors.”
    Kat laughs. “Well, that ought to help. Let’s settle up with Shaggy and then go out and see what we can find. I’m up for a walk, anyway; maybe a little fresh air would wake me up.”
    “Okay, lemme grab my wallet.”
    I grab my backpack from the floor behind Shaggy’s desk and unzip the main pocket. Where’s my wallet? I try to recall the last time I had it—the pizza place, I’m pretty sure. Yes, I paid for the pizzas, for all four of us. I breathe deeply, forcing myself to stay calm as my fingers reach around the bottom of the backpack, making sure before I check the smaller pocket. Nothing. I pinch the zipper pull for the small