Pre-Teen Violence
== Be Simone
Casey's crying. Not the cute, sniffling childlike cry, but the screaming, frustrated tears of a girl who doesn't understand her situation. You can feel John's arm tensing around you, his shoulder suddenly more painful than comfortable, and he jerks away too quickly while he sits up. The door slams behind her, rattling the frame while her dad pulls his arm from around your shoulders.
"Casey, what's—what happened?!"
She growls, frozen, and John is at her side in seconds. He's hunched over her protectively, taking her backpack off her shoulders to set it on the ground near the door. It's only when he moves away slightly that you can see the blood of her split lip.
"Sweetie, oh my god…" She flinches away from both of you, dodging between both of you to get to her room. She slams her door behind her, leaving you to stare blankly at her panicking father.
Nothing like this has ever happened before, and you definitely have no idea what to do about it. Even John seems to be at a loss. After a moment's uncertainty he approaches the door, knocking twice and waiting for an answer that won't come.
"Case… can you tell me what's going on?"
There's silence beyond her door, save for the increasing sniffling that she's trying and failing to cover up. You hover behind John in doubt.
"At least come out so we can get you some ice." He tries, but there's silence again.
He knocks again, louder. "You'll feel better, you know."
"JUST GO AWAY!" She shrieks it through her sniffles, and the noise sets your stomach on edge.
"Casey Serket Egbert, you quiet down and realize that I am trying to help you. Let me in right now." You're amazed that he can sound so calm and stern at the same time, and even more amazed when a pouting, puffy-eyed Casey opens the door just wide enough to let him inside. For the first time in a long time, you feel completely out of place here and more than a little useless.
He takes her chin in his hand, turning her face gently to examine the damage.
"Jeez, Caseadoodle…" She jerks her face away, bringing up a pillow to hide as much of the bruising as possible. "You're kind of a mess. You're not dizzy, are you?"
"I'm not dizzy and I'm not a mess! They got it way worse than me." She sulks, clinging to the pillow in some desperate attempt to hide. Part of you is ready to hold her and smooth her hair, and part of you is ready to run home and wait for this to be over.
John stiffens slightly. "We're going downstairs to get some ice and then you're going to explain to me exactly what the heck is going on."
"Exactly what the hell is going on." Casey mumbles vaguely before cowering under her Dad's glare.
You follow aimlessly as John leads Casey to the kitchen, not sure if you should be leaving, or trying to be comforting, or just keeping silent and following them around. John presses a bag of frozen veggies to her forehead, and you watch her wince and then relax under the cold pressure. It only takes him a minute to clean up her lip, and the silence that follows is uncomfortable.
"Casey." John's got that stern tone once again, and with a heavy pout Casey finally begins to speak.
"It wasn't my fault! Some jerk stole Adam's inhaler and he really, really needed it. I set him straight. His friends didn't like it, so I hit them and they hit me back and then I came home. And now we're here and you're mad at me." She scowls, flinching as the torn skin of her lip stretches uncomfortably.
John hesitates, staring at her as if she was a puzzle to be solved. You don't know if you want him to ground her or tell her how proud he is of her bravery.
"Listen," He begins carefully, "I know you wanted to help, but fighting isn't going to make anything better."
"Adam got his inhaler back." She mumbles, glaring at the floor.
"Maybe he did, and you're going to have a black eye to show for it. Next time let a teacher take care of it, okay?"
She makes a face, but doesn't bother fighting anymore. She's tired and in pain, and no matter how flat her expression might be, when she closes her eyes and lets him adjust the cold pressure you're positive that she's happy to have him there.
"…Dad, why do people suck so badly?"
He chuckles lowly to himself, removing the bag to get a better look at her. "Language, Case. And most of them don't. You just found some real gems today."
"No, they all do. Adam was really sick and no one did anything at all."
He sighs, dabbing some Neosporin onto her lip. "I'll call your school and try to figure out what happened, but I promise there are a lot of people who would have helped if they had seen. Not everyone is like that."
She frowns, her mouth tightening into a thin line. She thinks very, very hard before speaking once again.
"Aunt Simone, are you a whore?" Your stomach flips into your throat; more than anything you want to not be here right now.
"Casey! Why would you even—"
"They said so! Right before I hit him, the big one said that the freak with a whore mom would hang out with the freak with the busted heart. He kept saying he saw you naked on TV and that you would totally fuck him if he asked…"
"Language! Listen to me, your aunt isn't a whore, and I never want to hear you say that again, okay?" John's stern voice does nothing to calm your nerves.
"But they said—"
"I don't care what they said. They're just a couple of bratty kids, and if what they said about you and Adam isn't true then what they say about your aunt isn't true either. Now stay here while I get us some aspirin…"
John rises slowly, waiting for someone to take over holding the cold bag while he goes in search of painkillers. You realize a little too late that he's looking to you, and you have to take over as the parent while he's gone.
You never thought you would get nervous about holding a pack of frozen veggies, but as you take it from his hand you find your heartbeat speeding up. Alright. Just hold it still, same amount of pressure as John had, try to ignore the fact that Casey just got beaten up and it's at least partially your fault…
"…Are you really naked on TV, though?" Casey mumbles it quietly, looking nervously at the door as if her dad might overhear. Your stomach is clenched so tight that you're not sure how you can breathe, and for a moment you consider lying and walking out as soon as John gets back.
You know she's going to find out eventually, though.
"Yeah, sweetie. It's a way to pay the bills."
She pauses to think about this for a while. "…And do you have sex with people for money?"
You want to be sick. "Yes."
"And would you fuck that kid if he asked?"
"Sweetie, there's not enough money in the world for me to touch him with my left pinky." The corner of her mouth twitches slightly, and you're a little bit proud to be the first one to make her smile.
"Okay." She shrugs, finally relaxing her shoulders just a bit.
…Wait a second.
"'Okay?'"
"Yeah. I mean, I guess it's kind of gross, but sex without money is pretty gross too and people really like to do that for some reason?"
You laugh; she's not entirely wrong. She doesn't seem to notice.
"Maybe there's just something about it I'm not getting yet? I don't know. But I mean, Adam is kind of a freak and he's still really cool. So you're probably still awesome even if you're naked on TV. Ouch!" She flinches; you've pressed down a little too hard with her now-thawing cold pack.
You wish you could hug her right now, but she's hurt and the last thing you want to do is hurt her more. She grins at you through the pain, trying to force you to believe that she's okay, and you don't think you've ever been more relieved to see John approach with aspirin and a glass of water.
"Alright, take these, I've just got to call your mom and let her know…" Casey manages to choke down an adult-sized dose of painkillers while John fumbles with his phone. You sit there next to both of them, the now thawing bag of veggies still in hand.
Casey seems to have forgotten all about your confession in light of how ugly her black eye is going to be, and John is too busy with Rose to pay attention, but you know this is going to come back to haunt you. They say they love you and they want you there, but sometimes people are stupid about the things they want. Who would ever want Casey to come home bruised and bloody for the sake of someone like you?