Page 48 of The Catalyst

“What do you want, Casey?” I mutter as I cross my arms.

“Oh, nothing. I’m surprised you remembered my name. Your head has been up Nigel’s ass since you arrived in town, and you’ve got the Gunderson freakazoid following you around like you shit rainbows. I didn’t think you had the time to notice much else,” she breathes out, and the blood in my veins boils.

No one talks about Judy like that. We have different ideals and tastes, but she’s my friend. She goes through enough shit without this bitch dragging her name through the mud.

I want to punch her straight in the nose, knee her in the gut, and kick her across the room, but this is an organized fight. I don’t think whoever set this up would appreciate it if I beat up Casey during Nigel’s fight. Plus, the last thing I want to do is screw with the money Nigel will make from this fight. I don’t care about money, but Nigel has to make a living in a way that doesn’t interfere with school. This is the only job he can manage right now.

No, I won’t react

“That’s my best friend. Watch your filthy mouth.”

“Touchy,” she giggles as she covers her mouth. “I’m not the only one who says it. Haven’t you seen the scars on her arms? The girl is a cutter. She can’t take any type of stress. It’s a fixation. The school even forced her parents to send her to a therapist, but nothing helped the poor girl. She just can’t deal. It’s sad, really. Some of us drink, some of us do drugs, some of us even fuck to numb the pain, but Judy Gunderson…bleeds.” Her tone morphs to pity, and her expression…it’s almost as if she actually cares about Judy, but the way she talked about her and to her at the party, it’s hard to grasp.

“Why don’t you just move along?” I groan as I roll up the sleeves of Nigel’s hoody, baring my forearms before crossing them over my chest.

“Because this fight will be over in just a minute and my man is going to knock Nigel off his pedestal. I really want to see the look on your face when you watch him take his first loss.” That cocky grin returns to her face as she steps closer to me. “You know, when Nigel and I were together, I learned this trick that professional athletes’ spouses do pregame to help their significant others play their best. I did that trick for him before every fight, and he barely broke a sweat, but now, I’m with Martin, and he’s the one who benefits from my skills. Do you want to know what it is…Bethany–that’s your name, right?”

I remain silent. I know her and Nigel were a thing before I came to town. I have no jealousy about that. Casey was his past, and the past stays where it belongs–behind you. Nigel was through with her shit before I stepped into Grove Hill.

Her eyebrow arches, her ego vibrating in her eyes. “It’s simple. An orgasm. I don’t mean getting him off, but actually making himorgasm. Did you know a guy can come without having an orgasm? It’s quite fascinating, actually. So, get ready to watch your boyfriend fall from his high horse.”

I nod along as she speaks, and I peek over her shoulder. Two minutes. That’s how long they’ve been going round and round each other. Only three more minutes until Nigel meets his target time.

“Were you even listening to me?” Casey gapes as I snap my eyes back to her.

“Oh, yes. I heard every word, but unlike you, I don’t feel the need to gloat.”

Her head shifts to the side, tilting to give me a quizzical look, but I don’t answer the question in her eyes. “Gloat about what? What could you possibly have to add at this point?”

Well, she asked. It’s not being cocky if someone asks, right?

“I don’t talk about my sex life with my boyfriend because it's private unless we choose to invite someone into it, but since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you,” I mutter sarcastically. I shift my gaze to Michael, letting him know that he should probably walk away if he doesn’t want to hear this, and he nods, understanding, before walking away. I snap my head back to Casey, impatiently waiting for me to explain myself. “Nigel and I have a very active sex life. On the weekend, we fuck over ten times a day, and he…well, I’ll let you fill in the blank for the number of orgasms he has daily. Plus, it looks like Martin isn’t doing so good. Maybe he needs to see a doctor?”

I peek around her head again. Yeah, Martin doesn’t look so hot. Bruises cover his chest and his face, the skin drenched with sweat and speckled with blood.

Casey snaps her head around and groans like a tantrum-throwing toddler. Seriously, why does she feel the need to throw her weight around like that?

Her eyes settle back on me. Seething. “You do know Nigel isn’t going anywhere. He’s a Bastard. He was born in Grove Hill, and he’ll die in Grove Hill. If you bind yourself to him, you’ll be stuck here, too. That’s why I moved on from him. Martin is going places. We’re going to get married, have a family together, and move out of this dead-end town. Do you know what you’ll be doing? Raising the next generation of degenerates with Judy, Perla and Arely. You’ll be just another tragedy.” She pauses for a moment, but I let her get out her frustration. Some people just can’t handle stress, and they lash out. I did it to Judy, and I’d be a royal bitch if I didn’t stand here and take it while Casey does it to me.

“You’re just going to be ripped apart by the curse anyway,” she says, displeasure blanketing her expression.

What is she talking about?

“I’m guessing he never told you about the curse? I wonder why that is. He told me, but I’m not superstitious. Every generation of those five families is cursed. Each of them loses one or both of their parents before they reach their teenage years. It has happened since their ancestors moved to Grove Hill. Either by death, prison, or they just run away…they’re left orphans. Look at Nigel. His mother deserted him, and then his father went insane. Oisin’s parents? Murder/Suicide. Charlie’s folks? His mom went to prison when she took the fall for his dad. Do you need me to continue?” Her expression is solemn. Her dark bangs cast shadows over her face, but her eyes show genuine concern.

If she isn’t superstitious, why does it seem that she actually believes in this curse? She’s looking at me like she’s had a premonition and knows I’m going to die young.

It’s stupid, though. Curses aren’t real. Everyone knows magic only exists in folklore and Disney movies.

“Get out before it fucks with your life, too,” Casey says before she turns and walks away.

Do I believe in this curse? No. There are such things as coincidences, and bad things happen every day. It’s not bad luck. Good people suffer while the wicked prosper.

I’ve accepted that I will go through my trials because of the man I’m with.

“Casey, wait,” I call for her.

Society says I should hate Casey. She’s a real bitch when she wants to be. Everyone who is a bitch is that way to protect themselves, whether from rejection, abuse, or general trauma.

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