The Unraveling of Cassidy Holmes by Elissa R. Sloan

Author:Elissa R. Sloan
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780063009448
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2020-06-29T00:00:00+00:00

17.

September 2001

San Jose

Cassidy

The drive to Oakland from L.A., even without traffic, is a good five hours. We told security to take the morning off and to stick with Merry, who’d probably need them more, counting on the unexpected nature of our visit to be anonymous enough.

The car was so new, it smelled like sweet leather and there were no fingerprints or smudges on any of the glass or mirrors. The California state map tucked in the glove compartment had never been unfolded. Rose hadn’t had time to personalize the car in any way—load the six-disc changer with CDs, find any dangly rearview mirror tokens, stuff a blanket in the back seat—so there was nothing to listen to except the radio, which we kept switched off. The day was just beginning; sunlight slanted in an unnaturally crisp and white way across the passenger-side window as we headed north, bathing Rose and her rose-tinted chapped nostrils and rose-rimmed raw eyes in a light that made her almost translucent. She was quiet, grasping her phone in two tight hands, looking between it and the view out the window every few moments, as if she were afraid she would miss an important call.

We’d been on the road for several hours when I glanced over at her, this petite girl with her arms crossed over her chest, though she insisted she wasn’t cold. In the year and a half that I’d known Rose, she had never shown much of herself to me. Behind her narrow face and large, unmatching eyes, I had the sense that she was always calculating her next move—our next move. She was the leader of the group, the mouthpiece, even though we had said over and over again that we were all equal members. We’d never seen her with a guy, and she’d never expressed interest in one. But somewhere underneath her thin breastbone, a heart beat there.

She gave me a sharp look. “Why are you slowing down?”

“Hmm? Oh.” I’d decelerated without realizing it. I mashed the pedal down again with new resolve. The 5 rolled beneath us, a smooth curve. We were quiet for another long stretch, and Rose flipped on the radio, which played a countdown of the Top 40. “Wake Up Morning” had slipped to number six, but “What Did U Say” was still number one. I asked, “Do you think you’ll be moving soon?”

“Maybe. I found a really cool spot right above the Sunset Strip.”

“What’s it like?”

“Big. Six bedrooms, a pool, lots of glass. It’s gorgeous.” A small, excited huff that could have been a laugh. “It’s a little much, but I fell in love with it. And the location is perfection.”

“A little much? How much?”

“A few mil.”

The idea that a house could be anything but a particular number of “mil” was astonishing. I mustered a “wow” as I followed signs for 580 toward San Francisco. My hips hurt from sitting so long and it’d been hours since we’d eaten anything.

“What about you? You think you’ll move out? Well, obviously you will, but any idea where? Hold on.

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