recidivism

“Well you’re somewhat right about that since I’ve only danced on the pole once,” Ben quipped, the remark’s truthfulness left vague. “But I do know a thing or two about stress,” and the girl looked stressed, exhausted even from what he can only guess as having to deal with shithead customers and the recent events in town. And I know when someone’s being deliberately difficult, he wanted to add.

“See that’s what a friend would do, yeah, but it’s a new friendship,” he reminded her calmly. “So I thought it best to check personally… that’s also something an actual friend would do.” Maybe Andie wasn’t around and the girl was just stalling.

Reece restrained herself from actually rolling her eyes at him. Sure, whatever, it was a joke, but really? She wasn't sure what he did for a living, but she doubted that he was familiar with the very specific stress of what she did. "Right, like you said. The kind of friendship where she doesn't give you her phone number." Maybe Andie had given him her phone number, but by now Reece was too deep in it to think about that. 

"Well, she doesn't work today," Another lie, she knew for a fact that Andie would be in later. "So you're gonna have to figure something else out if you really are so worried about her."

So something had happened, and whatever it was, it was bad. Andie wasn’t going to push Reece. She was going to wait until Reece was ready, whether it’d be tonight, years down the line, or never. She was going to be whatever Reece needed her to be. “It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it,” She said softly, giving her friend the space she needed. “But I am here for you…if you need it,” Andie offered. 

Reece nodded, trying to calm herself down. It was just Andie, and she didn't know why she was so scared, especially when all her friend was doing was trying to be there for her. To comfort her, to help. But the more she tried, the harder it was to hold back the flood of tears, the emotions. She hated being vulnerable, it made her feel shit, it made her feel weak. Even if it was just her friend. Reece had always been tough. There had never been time to be sensitive. There had never been time to be scared. But fuck, she was so scared. Not even for herself, but for her daughter. For mom. For her grandmother, for her friends, for Andie, for Cassie Klein, for everyone. This was bigger than any of them. It was bigger and scarier, and worse. 

“I...” She swallowed hard. “Andie, what if something.. What if something happens to Hailey? Or my mom? Or you?”

syd: you just need to start caring less

syd: tell her to fuck off the next time you see her

syd: or something

reece: god i wish

reece: but like

The Ice House was not a place that Jasper often found himself. The women on stage didn’t exactly do much for him. Neither did the men who drooled over them, if he was perfectly honest. But it was open late and it was crowded enough that people would notice if someone dragged him off his bar stool and out to his death.

He looked out of place, perched on a bar stool wearing black leggings and a baggy neon green tank top. A smudge of last night’s eyeliner still ringing both his eyes. Tapping endlessly at the brick shooter game on his phone, he had been nursing the same run and coke for almost an hour before he noticed the woman next to him. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, shaking his head at the bartender. He didn’t need to owe anyone any favors. “Thanks but–I’m good.”

She raised an eyebrow, taking her change back from the bartender. "Alright then." She wasn't gonna be rude about it, it was his perogative, whatever. She'd only been trying to be friendly, she thought to herself, trying not to feel a bit miffed. But at least she wasn't wasting money. Sipping her drink, she tried not to think about how much she wished she could just go home right now. All she really wanted was to collapse into bed, and pass out. 

Glancing back at the guy, it occurred to her that maybe he'd misread her offer - "I wasn't, like, trying to hit on you or anything. Just. If that's what you thought."

Andie stepped inside with her arms folded across her chest. She’d been to the apartment a million and one times before. Just about each and every time, Andie had been met with laughter and warmth for the home Reece had created for herself. But the feeling was notably and rightfully absent. “I’m good, thanks,” She said gently, nodding slightly. She halted her steps, turning to face Reece. “Can I ask you something? Did something…happen to you during the night of the blackout?” Andie asked carefully.

Reece took a deep breath, trying to keep herself calm, trying not to think about what had happened in the church. So it had been real. But of course it had been real, so many fucked up things seemed to be real now. "I.. Um.." Tears prickled at her eyes, and she wiped her face. "Um. I don't really want to talk about that, Andie.." As she said it, she felt terrible - Did this count as shutting out her friend? Was that what she was doing? But still. She didn’t want to recount it all, she wanted to shove it as far to the back of her mind as she could. It would be better that way.

“Well,” Wes said with a chuckle, haphazardly shrugging. “There’s your problem, I don’t think it’s that big of a deal, except that you could like, shoot your engine to shit. Same thing with some of the arcade games. You gotta clean ‘em out every once in a while or they get pissed. Don’t suppose you’ve got any spare oil in your trunk, huh? Otherwise, we’re gonna have to take a field trip.”

Of course. She had never really known shit about cars, and it probably didn't help that her car had been sitting around for a year and a half while she was in jail. But it was her fault, of course. She sighed. "I kind of just.. I don't know. Figured it would keep working forever? God, that's.. Fucking stupid, I know." She shook her head. "No. Do people do that? Just have oil?"

“Sister?” This time, Ben didn’t hide the disbelief in his tone, letting the dancer know that he wasn’t buying her lie. But he wasn’t going to point it out either. “Okay,” he nodded, seemingly agreeing with her claims.

Ben was unfazed by her irritation, looking innocent as he responded. “I don’t know how you got all of that from just me asking a simple question, but you seem to be projecting,” Ben stated, sounding very clinical and the reporter offered a quick, polite smile. “It’s a stressful job, I get it, but there’s no need to be rude, or make accusations,” he finished with a shrug.

“I was merely asking if Andie’s around and if she’s alright.”

She could tell he didn't believe her - And she didn't really expect him to, depending on how much he knew about Andie. But she'd said it, and she wasn't going to tell him. Maybe she was stubborn.

 "Projecting?" She said, raising her eyebrows. "Actually, I kind of doubt that you do get it, and regardless, this has absolutely nothing to do with my job." She had been annoyed from the start, but now she was actually pissed. "Look. If you're her friend, or whatever, why don't you just pick up your phone and give her a call? That seems like what an actual friend would do.”

syd: yeah, they never do, dont they? its always gotta happen behind our backs

syd: and ur right

syd: is like the whole damn town supposed to be there?

reece: riiiiight to our face its just like "oh im praying for you" like no thanks

reece: idek im just going so if she corners me again i can say im doing something

syd: p sure she tried to talk to me the other day but i crossed the street and walked the other direction

syd: or maybe it wasnt her idk theres too many church people trying to talk to me lately

reece: i wouldve escaped but she just snuck up on me

reece: wish she would just straight up tell me im going to hell tho

I’m.. Alive? If things weren’t so fucked up, Andie might’ve smiled, laughed even. It was typical Reece to respond in such a nonchalant way, but there was absolutely nothing funny about any of it. And as they stood there in the doorway looking at one another, Andie’s heart broke for Reece. The younger woman in front of her was Wheeler born and bred, and based on how shook up she was about this, it became clear to Andie that nothing like this has never happened in the little Indiana town.

“Can I come in?” Andie asked softly.

Andie had been there for a few minutes already, and Reece realized she hadn't even left her spot in the doorway. She nodded, stepping back into the apartment. "Do you want um.. Coffee, or something?" She asked, pulling her sweatshirt around her a little tighter. It felt cold, even though she'd checked the weather, and it wasn't any colder than it had been. She was imagining things. Maybe she'd imagined everything last night. What, was she just crazy? But then, why would Andie be so worried?

Lauren tried to keep her face neutral as she took in Reece’s sloppy appearance. It wasn’t Christian of her and given Reece’s…. history, the minimal makeup was probably considered making an effort. Besides, she showed up, which was the important part. A vigil wasn’t a good sign of solidarity with the grieving family if it was sparsely attended.

“Of course. I’m really glad you could make it. And there’s plenty of space up front with Cricket and me and the others if you need somewhere to stand.”

Cricket and Lauren and 'the others' - Reece tried hard not to grimace. Of all the people in this town she couldn't deal with, Cricket Carroll and her gang of church moms were probably the worst. One day, when Hailey was older, maybe Reece would never have to look any of those women in the face again. At least, that was what she hoped. 

"Oh, I don't know. I'm actually - " She paused, looking down at the book of hymns in her hand. "I - I wanted to show my support, you know, as much as I can, but I can't really stay for very long." It was a lie, sure. But just a little one. And given her history, it was kind of too late to worry about what God would think.

“You don’t know that, and I certainly don’t,” Cricket instantly answered, though it was frustrating how so many people just assumed that there was no point in looking. That Cassie would never be found and it was useless to stop.  “Not to mention having fresh eyes out there could potentially help us find something that we missed. Plus if it was your daughter, would you want people to stop searching just because there were no new leads?”

"Maybe I  don't. Maybe I'm wrong. But maybe you are. " God, don't go off on her, Reece told herself, you'll never hear the end of it. But she had started already, and it was like the words just kept spilling out, like a runaway train. "And no new leads? What about no leads at all? At least not ones that are particularly helpful for your search. Has anyone found any evidence that Cassie is even still.. She could be anywhere by now. You could be totally wasting your time.” She took a breath, folding her arms across her chest. “If it was my daughter, sure, I’d run myself ragged looking for her everywhere. But you know what? I wouldn’t get angry at everyone else for not doing the same. I want Cassie found as much as anyone else, but..” She shrugged. Life had to go on. But Cricket wasn’t gonna understand that, was she? People like her, they didn’t even.. Try to understand. 

Andie pulled Reece into a hug and held onto her tight. She took comfort in seeing Reece and knowing she was at least outwardly okay. The blackout shaped Andie, maybe in a way she had yet to realize but would in due time. But Andie was responsible only for herself. She didn’t have anyone to come home to or anyone depending on her. She was alone. Andie couldn’t imagine surviving the night she had with the worry for loved ones looming. 

Finally pulling away, Andie kept her hands on Reece’s shoulder. “I’m alright, yeah,” She chuckled a little. “But how are you, really?” She asked, her eyes darting back and forth between Reece’s.

“Does she really tell you everything?” Ben asked, his tone somewhat challenging. It was a harmless remark but designed to spark doubt. “Maybe she wants to keep this one a secret, given that it’s a new friendship,” he countered with a smile. The reporter was suddenly curious about what this particular dancer really know or if it was another case of Andie Moreau weaving her lies. If it were the case, he almost felt pity for the unnamed dancer. Well, almost. People on the run needed to do what they had to, even if it meant hurting and lying.

“No, it’s okay, I just wanted to make sure she’s alright,” he responded as his gaze moved past her, blue eyes observing the interiors of the establishment. “Was this place open when the blackout happened?”

She definitely didn't like this guy, she knew that now for sure. Who was he to call into question her relationship with Andie? Andie would have told her. If he was important, important enough to come and 'check on her', if that was what he was really doing, she would have told Reece. "Yeah, she really does." She snapped. "If it's such a new friendship, maybe you shouldn't be acting like you know her better than her own fucking sister." The lie slipped out so easily, without her even having time to think about wether or not it would be believable. But, she'd said it, so there was no going back. At least it wasn't far from the truth - Andie wasn't her real sister, of course, but she was as good as.

Reece shrugged. "Probably. I wasn't here, but we're open late, so I'd guess."

Cricket knew that their definitions of “working late” were completely different. And was well aware that hers was the version that God approved of while Reece….well Cricket could only pray that her daughter didn’t decide to follow in her mother’s footsteps.  “Of course,” Cricket nodded, with an incredible amount of side-eye, “Though I think it’d be worth it to give up a few hours of sleep to help out Paula and Bobby, don’t you? Especially since you know they’d do the same for your daughter.”

God, Reece could practically feel the bullshit radiating off Cricket as soon as she had mentioned work. She'd never flat out told Cricket, or anyone at the church what she did for a living, but it was a small town. Everyone knew everything. It didn't help that both her grandmother and mother went to church regularly, and weren't always the best at keeping their mouths shut. Reece sighed. "Right. I'm sure they would." She paused, trying to stop herself from interjecting anything that might cause real conflict with the other woman - But wasn't there always conflict with Cricket? "But, you know, don't you think that, um. Maybe it's a little unrealistic, at this point? I mean, the area's been pretty well searched. If anyone's finding Cassie at this point, it's the cops. Not me."

The Vigil Time: 7:10 PM

Lauren stood at the foot of the steps leading up to town hall, a stack of black leather bound books tucked neatly under one arm. Evan clung to his father’s leg as he made idle chit chat with another parishioner and the girls lay tucked into their beds at home under the watchful eye of Grandma, (who had strict instructions to text her updates, including pictures, every thirty minutes). An unassuming brown purse decorated with beads was strung across her chest, packed full of goldfish, juice boxes, and a spiral bound notebook and ball point pen. The first page was titled “How to Talk About Grief with Your Kids.” The tenth page was titled, “Chapter __: Grieving in a Small Town.”

Hazel eyes scanned across the crowd, looking for anyone not yet holding a hymnal. She sent a quick prayer of thanks up to the church for providing the perfect blogging and novelling cover. Her eyes homed in on an unsuspecting townsperson and she stepped forward with a smile and an outstretched book. “Hi, I’m so glad you could make it. Have you gotten a hymnal yet? We’ve already bookmarked the hymns we’re planning to sing so you don’t have to worry about fumbling through the pages as the sun goes down.”

To be perfectly honest, Reece would really rather be anywhere but the stupid fucking vigil - but after Cricket Carroll's most recent guilt trip, she somehow couldn't make herself not go. She'd shoved herself into her most mature, appropriate clothes, put on only enough makeup to make her not look like she'd barely slept in the last week, and headed down to town hall.

She knew it was going to be a shitshow before she got there, at least, a shitshow if you were her. Or anyone like her. Or anyone who didn't go to church regularly. But the judgmental looks would have been worse if she hadn't, and she was starting to get tired of feeling constantly judged. 

She'd just arrived, and was still trying to get her bearings, when a woman stepped out of seemingly nowhere holding out a book.. Well, not just any woman. Lauren Price. Shit. "Uh, um.." She hadn't planned to stay long, just long enough to make an appearance, so she could say she'd done something, and then she'd get out. But she gave a tight smile, and took the book. "Thanks?"

syd: im not going to that thing

syd: i even told my brother no so you can stop trying to convince me

syd: you can come over for a drink after though

syd: as long as you promise not to talk about the vigil

reece: i'm only going cause cricket carroll went on a guilt trip on me last time i saw her so