Free Stalker Girl by Rosemary Graham

rich, Social-Registered family for another. The last Carly had heard, Juliet was out of the picture and Jake was calling, but Val was still insisting that she didn’t want to have anything to do with “a guy like that,” meaning a guy whose ancestors came over on the Mayflower and whose family name was on multiple buildings on multiple college campuses. Not that Jake had done or said anything to indicate that he looked down on Val or that his family would object to her. He’d even come in to SJNY for dinner with his mother, and she was totally nice to Val. Carly had been urging Val to give him a chance, to at least let herself have some fun. But Val was stubborn and laser-focused when it came to her future. She’d kept all boys—not just Jake—at a distance. She said she was saving herself. Not for marriage but until she was safely enrolled in college.
    “Yeah. He called again tonight and pretty much begged me to go to the formal.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    “Nope.”
    “Wow.” The EGC senior formal was another one of those things—like summers in Paris—that belonged to the world of Piper Petersons and Celine Hardimans. Carly and Val had always tuned out when talk of the designer dresses and before-and-after parties started in April.
    “And you said . . . ?”
    “Yes. Believe it or not, I said yes. He was so sweet about it. I couldn’t say anything else.”
    “Wow. That’s great.” Carly really did think it was great. From what Val had told her, Jake sounded like a nice guy. So what if he was rich? “It took you two long enough.”
    “I know.”
    At the time, it didn’t occur to Carly to think of Val’s announcement as anything but good news.
     
    Carly must have slept some, but it felt like she was awake the whole night trying to decide between two awful options. She heard the party girls’ heels click their way down the street when the bars closed at three and the rumbling of trucks outside the one meat plant still in operation at about five.
    When she got up at six, she’d made up her mind.
    Val made some good points. Under different circumstances, she probably would have chosen the camp over Ohio, but she was too mad at her mother for ruining her life and couldn’t imagine going anywhere with her. And so that afternoon, she called her father.
    “That’s great. You could really be a help around here, too, now that Ann’s on bedrest.”
    “Bedrest?”
    Just that morning, Ann had experienced some bleeding and cramping. Because of the two prior miscarriages, she’d been advised to get into bed until further notice.
    Carly pictured herself carrying trays of food into Ann’s room, watching Oprah in the afternoons. Suddenly she understood Jolie Albright. Who wouldn’t start holding up 7-Elevens under those circumstances?
    And so Stony Hollow it was. The only job left by then was kitchen assistant, but that was fine with Carly. She wasn’t the counselor type. As much as she loved Jess, she didn’t see herself spending twenty-four hours a day in the company of ten girls Jess’s age.

8
    GETTING OUT of New York was a depressing, exhausting experience, starting with the scene in front of what was about to become her former home.
    Nick and Isabelle were being all fake-polite to each other as they loaded the cab.
    “Let me get that.”
    “Thanks.”
    “You sure you don’t want me to come to the station with you? Help with your luggage?”
    Isabelle was nothing if not organized. She had sent most of their stuff ahead. All they had to carry was a small rolling carry-on each.
    “Positive. Really. We’ll be fine, won’t we, girls?”
    They were saying all the right, let’s-be-civil-about-this things but avoiding eye contact as they said them. As soon as the bags were in the trunk, Isabelle climbed into the backseat without another word to Nick, who was focused on Jess, who was finally reacting to the news that her parents were splitting up. She was crying and clinging to her father, saying,