Carlson Melody - Stealing Bradford

“Give her a break,” said Eliza.

“Casey,” called DJ, “come and sit over here with me, will you?” She patted a space on the couch beside her. And to her surprise, Casey came over and flopped down next to her. Once again, she folded her arms in front of her, looking down at her jeans, which she had decorated with scary-looking inkpenned drawings of dragons, skulls, and flames.

“Here’s the deal,” said DJ. “It’s no surprise that Mrs. Carter does not approve of Casey’s…well, her distinct way of dressing.”

Taylor laughed. “Like we do.”

“Never mind,” said DJ sharply. “But Mrs. Carter informed me earlier that Casey will have to leave if something doesn’t change.”

Casey turned and looked at DJ. “She said that?”

DJ nodded soberly. “I was trying to tell you, but you left.”

“Mrs. Carter’s throwing Casey out?” asked Rhiannon.

“That seems a bit harsh,” said Eliza.

“I agree,” said DJ. “I don’t think she’s really given Casey much of a chance. But then again, my grandmother is not the most patient woman in the world.”

“And her standards are extremely high,” added Kriti. “Especially when it comes to appearances.”

“I guess the question is, what do we do about this?” said DJ, desperately hoping for help.

“Besides eat her?” teased Taylor. She held her hands like claws as she snapped her teeth like a wild animal toward Casey.

“Knock it off,” snapped Eliza.

“Oh, don’t be such a wet blanket,” said Taylor. “Casey’s a big girl. I’m just messing with her a little.”

“Well, she doesn’t need to be messed with,” said DJ in a firm tone.

“That’s right,” said Rhiannon.

“No one wants to be teased,” added Kriti.

Now Eliza left the club chair and came over to sit on the oversized coffee table directly across from Casey. She reached over and put one perfectly manicured hand on Casey’s knee, right beside the drawing of a creepy spider that was next to a torn spot. “Casey,” she said in her gentle southern voice. “Do you want us to help you? Or would you rather we just left ya’ll alone?”

Casey looked up with tears in her eyes. “I—I don’t know…”

“Because we all like you. If you wanted our help, we’d all be more’n happy to give it, wouldn’t we, girls?”

Everyone except Taylor nodded and agreed.

Casey pressed her lips together and looked at them as if she was unsure. DJ thought she probably didn’t trust them. For that matter, why should she?

“Think about it, Casey,” urged DJ. “If you leave Carter House, you said yourself that your parents will send you to boot camp for sure.”

“Boot camp?” said Taylor with surprise. “Are you serious?”

Casey nodded without looking up.

“Wow!” Taylor sat down on the coffee table next to Eliza now. She just shook her head. “That’s tough. I had a friend who went to boot camp once.”

“And?” DJ looked at Taylor, waiting for the rest of the story and hoping that it wasn’t just a setup so that she could make another bad joke at Casey’s expense. Like maybe she was about to say the girl went to boot camp and came back as a boy. Something off color and tacky.

“And…” Taylor sighed. “She never came back.”

“What do you mean?” demanded Eliza.

Taylor sort of shrugged now. And for the first time since DJ had known this overly confident and self-centered girl, she seemed somewhat uncomfortable. “I mean, she died there.”

“No way,” said DJ.

Taylor nodded. “I swear, it’s true. Her name was Andrea Sinclair. The boot camp was in the Sierra Madres. Andrea had gotten into trouble. Not anything real serious, but her parents overreacted. She was only fourteen. It was about three years ago. I’m sure you can find the story on the Internet if you look. Her parents actually sued the boot camp, but I think the place is still operating, except that it’s under a different name now.”

“You’re serious?” said DJ.

“I saw an exposé on one of those news shows about a year ago,” said Kriti. “It was about something exactly like that. They made a boy hike all day in the hot sun without water. He had a stroke and died.”

“I’m sure not all boot camps are that bad,” said DJ, glancing at Casey who now had tears streaming down her cheeks. “Casey’s parents wouldn’t send her to a place like that.”

“Andrea’s parents wouldn’t either,” said Taylor defensively. “They just didn’t know what it was really like.”

Rhiannon was on the other side of Casey, and she slipped an arm around Casey’s shoulders and gently pulled her to her. “Casey, please, let us help you. We want to help you.”

“Yes,” urged Eliza. “You’re really a pretty girl underneath that tough chick disguise. Why are you so afraid to show it?”

“I know why,” said Taylor.

They all, even Casey, looked up at her.

“She’s been hurt,” Taylor said lightly. “Same old story. Girl gets hurt and puts on a tough act to protect herself. No big deal.” She leaned down now, putting her face just inches from Casey’s. “Right?” Casey nodded.

“Well, everyone gets hurt, Casey. It’s just part of life and growing up.”

“I hate to admit it,” said DJ. “But Taylor’s right.”

“But, Casey,” said Eliza. “Can’t you see that you’re just setting yourself up for more hurt? When you go around looking like…well, you know, like—”

“Like Goth Girl meets Rebel Chick meets Punk Rocker,” said Taylor.

“Yes, whatever.” Eliza sighed in exasperation. “It’s like an invitation to get picked on.”

“You saw what happened today,” DJ reminded her. “You were targeted just because of how you looked, right?”

Casey nodded again, wiping the tears with her hands. “But people shouldn’t judge you by appearances. That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair,” said Taylor. “Get over it.”

“So you guys are saying I have to conform myself into a cookie-cutter image—a Barbie doll wannabe—just to avoid taking a little heat.”

“No,” said Rhiannon firmly. “Look at me, Casey. I think I’m living proof that you don’t have to do that.”

Taylor snickered.

“What?” demanded DJ, staring at Taylor. “Why do you think that’s so funny?”

Taylor just shrugged, but amazingly kept her mouth shut.

“Go on,” DJ urged Rhiannon. “You were making a good point.”

“It’s okay to be different,” continued Rhiannon. “You need to be yourself. No one is asking you to become a cookie-cutter clone.”

Kriti nodded. “Rhiannon’s right, Casey.”

“But you guys are saying I need to change,” protested Casey.

“Maybe we’re asking you whether or not this costume you’re wearing is really yourself?” said DJ quietly. “I mean I’ve known you for…like forever. And I don’t think this is who you really are.”

“I don’t know you very well,” admitted Eliza. “But I have to agree. It seems like there’s a sweet girl underneath.” She pointed to a safety pin that was pierced through Casey’s eyebrow. “Well, underneath this.”

Kriti pointed to the small diamond stud that was pierced through one of her nostrils. “Even I have a facial piercing,” she said. “But I don’t think it detracts from who I am.”

“Yes,” agreed Eliza. “I’m not generally in favor of piercing anything other than ears, but I think it gives Kriti a rather exotic charm.”

“No one is telling you that you can’t be you,” said Rhiannon. “I mean if you look at us, we’re all fairly unique and different. Kriti is very academic. DJ is into sports. Eliza is quite social. I’m into art. And Taylor…” She peered curiously at Taylor. “Well, she’s just one of kind, isn’t she?”