Teen Hyde by Chandler Baker

Author:Chandler Baker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Feiwel & Friends

THIRTEEN

Cassidy

I didn’t trust myself.

Even when I woke up in sweatpants and a T-shirt and, as far as I could tell, nothing had changed, I didn’t trust myself.

My limbs still felt pleasantly warm and lithe, the lingering effects of last night’s dose of Sunshine, but the moment my alarm went off, doubt began creeping in. I stared up at the ceiling for as long as I could, trying to convince myself that all was well. I was in my bed. I felt healthy. Reasonably happy.

I once read an article in a teen magazine that said trust was the most important thing in any good relationship. I guessed they were right because I didn’t trust myself and my relationship with me was quickly deteriorating.

I clambered out of bed and began dressing. Meanwhile, the feeling of unease grew. I washed and blow-dried my hair. I put on pink lipstick and mascara. I shimmied into jeans that fit and a cream top with ruffles on the sleeves. When I looked in the mirror I saw a very convincing version of myself. Pretty. Put together. In control.

What was it, then, that gave me away?

I stared harder at my reflection. It felt like a ghost of someone else lingered right there with me, just out of sight.

I flicked off the light and called for Honor to hurry up or else we’d be late for first period. Then, I went downstairs and threw my bag in the backseat and climbed in to wait for her. When I twisted the key in the ignition the dashboard lit up.

My heart sputtered with the engine. When I got home last night, I’d checked the mileage. I’d memorized it.

Now staring at me from behind my steering wheel was a number that was fifty miles more. Nowhere in town would be that far. The closest city was about twenty-five miles away. And it was Dearborn.

Honor appeared, hustling out the front door. A flannel shirt hung halfway off her shoulder and she was trying to tug it up while balancing a stack of books. I turned my face into a mask of calm. Underneath, though, my heartbeat skipped wildly out of control. And my knuckles turned white as they wrapped themselves into a death grip around the leather wheel. I felt like someone was haunting me. But I was pretty sure that someone was me.

I repressed a shudder. Honor tumbled into the seat beside me with a huff.

“Sorry,” she said, breathless.

I smiled at her and helped her push her book bag into the backseat. “That’s okay.”

I let her choose the radio station as we drove to school.

“You’re an actress, Honor,” I said, keeping my tone casual.

She sat up straighter and adjusted the chest strap on her seat belt. “I guess. I only have a really small speaking part in the play this semester.”

I shrugged. “You’re only a freshman, silly. So, when you’re acting, you’re trying to convince the audience that you’re someone other than who you actually are, right?” She nodded. “How do you do that?” I asked, for once genuinely interested.

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