by Jenny Han
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
KAT
AFTER SCHOOL ON WEDNESDAY, I TAKE THE FERRY OUT to see Kim at the music store. When I called to ask if I could use their copy machine, Kim put me on hold and made sure the owner, Paul, wasn’t going to be around. When she came back on the line, she said they were pretty low on paper so I should bring what I think I’ll need. I stole a whole ream of it from the library. Five hundred sheets to humiliate Alex.
As amped as I am about doing this, it’s sort of annoying. I mean, basically my whole night is going to be spent doing this crap. I wouldn’t care, but Mary hasn’t done much of anything so far. I don’t blame her for not having any ideas yet—she doesn’t know Alex. But she’s going to need to pick up the slack and earn her place. Lillia’s been all right, I guess. Although her ideas have been pretty weak. The Retin-A thing was fine, but if it were me, I’d have put Nair in Alex’s shampoo or something. Go big or go home.
Whatever. We’re just getting started. Hopefully by the time it’s my turn and we’ve got Rennie in our cross hairs, we’ll be a well-oiled revenge machine.
Kim perks up when I walk through the door. Even though there’s a customer waiting in line to be rung up, she pulls me behind the counter and gives me a big hug. The guy’s a punk with a full-on Mohawk, so I guess Kim thinks he doesn’t give a crap about customer service.
“Kat!” she says. “I’ve missed you, bitch!”
“Missed you too,” I say. Actually, I guess I haven’t. I’ve been too caught up in this revenge thing.
* * *
The summer before my junior year, I spent hours and hours perusing the racks at Paul’s Boutique, checking out bands I’d never heard of at the listening stations. There was one where the headphones had an extra long cord, and I could sit on the floor. I wouldn’t listen to a song here or there but whole albums. Five, six, seven.
Kim kicked me out a few times. She’d be ready to lock up for the night, and I’d be on the floor with my eyes closed, the volume turned up as loud as it could go, with no clue what time it was. It wasn’t that I didn’t have other things to do. I was always welcome to hang out with Pat and his friends. But I could only handle dudes-who-love-dirt-bikes talk for so long before I wanted to lock the garage doors, rev all the engines, and die from carbon monoxide poisoning.
So Kim was, rightfully, annoyed with me back then, because I really was a terrible customer. I’d mostly just hang around all day without buying anything. If I were her, I would have barred me from the store along with the shoplifters.
I’m not sure what made her eventually take pity on me, exactly, but it happened like this—I went up to the register and tried to buy a ticket to see this band called Monsoon in the garage space, even though the show was for people twenty one and older.
Kim called me out right away. She leaned over the counter and looked me up and down. “What are you, like, thirteen?”
“I’m sixteen,” I said, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.
She laughed in my face and held up the ticket. “I don’t think I heard you right. How old are you again?”
It took me a second to figure it out. I cleared my throat and said, “Twenty-one.”
She arched one of her thick-as-hell eyebrows. “Where’s your ID?” I bit my lip. I didn’t have an answer. Luckily, Kim gave me one. “You left it in the car, didn’t you?”
I nodded. “Yup.”
She gave me the ticket. I tried to hand her ten bucks, but she wouldn’t take it. “I’ve got an extra comp ticket.”
“Wow,” I said. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. Nobody else working here wants to see them, so I’ll be working the show alone. Monsoon sucks, if you didn’t already know. And you’re going to help me take down the set when it’s over.”
She was right, of course. Monsoon sucked big-time. But it was still one of the best nights of my life.
* * *
Kim peels herself off me so she can look me in the eyes. “Hey. Sorry about having to be so quick on the phone last week. It was a crazy show. The last band showed up late and so drunk they could barely get through their set, and Paul’s been a complete prick lately. You caught me at the worst time possible. It’s been—”
“It’s totally fine,” I say, cutting her off. Kim’s day doesn’t sound half as terrible as mine was, and anyway, I’ve got to get this done before the last ferry back to Jar Island. “Can I just chill in the office?” That’s where the copier is, and the store computer. They’ve got programs loaded on it to make flyers for shows. I helped Kim make them a couple of times. I’m going to lay this thing out real nice. But not so nice that it gets back to me. I’m thinking a scan of Alex’s handwriting with some cheesy clip art of two unicorns touching horns or something.
“Yeah, sure.” Kim rings up the Mohawk guy, and then he leaves. “What’s this school project about?”
“Umm, it’s more like an art thing.”
“Oh. Cool. And how’s your boy Alex? You guys riding off on a golf cart into the sunset?”
I feel a pang at the sound of his name but quickly try to cover it up. “Eww!” I say. When Alex was on his fishing trip, I came to the store almost every day. And I know I talked about him a lot. God, it’s crazy how much can change in a few weeks. I start walking backward, away from Kim, because I really don’t have time to chat.
“But he was so nice, Kat. You need a nice boy. And he liked you, I could tell. I think you’d be good couple.”
I roll my eyes. “I just can’t wait to finish this year out and get to Oberlin. I’m ready to, like, start my life, you know? If I had to live around here for another year, I swear I’d kill myself.”
Kim’s mouth gets thin. “Yeah. I hear you.”
I can tell she’s mad, but I wasn’t talking about her. Of course I wasn’t. Kim is, like, the coolest person I know. “Kim, I didn’t mean—”
“I don’t know if you ever caught on, but Paul and I are screwing. Well, we were screwing, until his wife found out. So now he’s being a huge prick and bitching about how the register’s off by a dollar or that there’s never any toilet paper in the store bathroom. Dude is trying to fire me and kick me out of the apartment over the store. I know it.”
“Damn,” I say. “That sucks.” It really does. I met Paul once. He’s kind of old. And gross.
“Yup,” she says, and the P makes a pop sound. “You know where the copier is. Just try not to make a huge mess.”
I feel like an ass. But I am in a rush. And when Kim gets in a pissy mood, it’s best to just leave her alone.
As the computer warms up, I take out Alex’s notebook and start flipping through it, because maybe there’s another poem even more lame than “The Longest Hallway.” Though I doubt it. That was so wack.
Near the front of the book, I see something called “Red Ribbon.” God, he is such a weirdo.
Winter stars fall so I keep wishing.
I love the way you look in sweaters.
Can we Eskimo kiss all night long?
’Cause your red ribbon has me tied up in knots.
Red ribbon? What the hell is that? Some kind of menstruation metaphor?
Oh, yeah. This is so it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LILLIA
IT’S SATURDAY NIGHT. REEVE GOT THE KEYS TO ONE OF THE empty summer houses his dad’s company takes care of, so everybody piled into cars, and now we’re in some random person’s house in Middlebury. Reeve just told us to take our shoes off so we don’t track dirt on the carpet, but then he helped himself to a brand-new bottle of gin from the bar and mixed it with a bottle of their Sprite. How considerate of him, right? He poured cups for everyone but himself, because he has to have his game face on for football practice on Monday. He’s so very moral about not drinking during the season.
I’m sitting on the living room floor, my legs stretched out in front of me. I’m super-sore from the last week of cheer practice. Rennie choreographed a new halftime routine, an
d she made us run through it a million times. A few of the guys from the football team are lying on the floor too, talking about some new defensive strategy.
I’m halfway falling asleep when Rennie bursts into the room, Reeve right behind her. “We just had an amazing idea,” she announces. She holds up an empty bottle of beer and does a little dance. “Who wants to play spin the bottle?” she shrieks.
The guys perk up. I’m wide awake now too. No way am I sticking around for this. Quickly I scramble up and say to Ashlin, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Everybody sit in a circle, boy-girl-boy-girl,” Rennie’s saying. “Ash, go get the people in the Jacuzzi.”
Ashlin covers her mouth and giggles and says, “Seriously, Ren? What are we, in the seventh grade again?”
Rennie glares at her. “Hello, it’s retro. And hello, it’s our senior year. It’s called making memories.” In a lower but not altogether quiet voice, she adds, “Perfect opportunity to make out with Derek, Ash.”
Ashlin’s face splotches, and she jumps up. From the other side of the sliding door, I hear her call everyone inside.
I give Rennie a quick wave good-bye, hoping she won’t notice, but before I can slip out of the room, she grabs my arm. “Lil, you have to stay,” she hisses, giving me a meaningful look. She looks over at Reeve and back at me. “Please. I need you.”
“I have to get home before my curfew.”
“It’s Saturday night! Your mom always lets you stay out a little later on Saturday nights.” Rennie takes my hand in hers, and I know she’s not going to let me leave. “Just till midnight, okay?”
“Fine,” I say with a sigh, “but I’m only watching. I’m not playing.”
She gives me a grateful kiss on the cheek and pulls me over to the group that’s already formed on the floor. Alex is there, sitting next to Ashlin, his hair damp from the Jacuzzi. Jenn Barnes and Wendy Kamnikar, two juniors that Derek is friendly with, plant themselves across from them. I sit down next to Tyler Klask and PJ, a part of the circle but not completely. I’m checking my hair for split ends when Rennie says “Lillia first!” and thrusts the bottle at me.
My mouth falls open. “Rennie!”
“Don’t be a spoilsport, Lil,” Rennie says, smiling at me. “Everyone has to play.” I narrow my eyes at her, but she just keeps smiling a sunny smile. “Hurry up and spin.”
“Come on, Lil. Just say yes or she’ll never leave you alone,” PJ says in a low voice, nudging me.
Reeve, who’s watching me with this bemused look on his face, starts pounding his fists on the carpet. “Lilli-uh! Lilli-uh!” Everyone joins in.
I glare at everybody. “God, you guys! So immature.”
Ashlin spins the bottle and shouts, “This one’s for Lil!”
It lands . . . on Reeve.
I can feel my cheeks heat up as our eyes meet. I’m about to say No freaking way when Reeve reaches out and adjusts the bottle so it’s pointing at Alex. “I think it was going more in this direction,” Reeve says with a lazy grin.
“Hey!” I object. “Interference!”
Alex clears his throat and jokingly says, “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but contrary to popular opinion, I’m not contagious or anything.”
“I—I don’t think that! It’s just, those aren’t the rules.” I don’t want to kiss Reeve, and I definitely don’t want to kiss Alex. In fact, I don’t want to kiss anybody. Maybe I don’t want to kiss anyone ever again. At least not for a long time.
Reeve raises an eyebrow. “I had no idea you wanted me so bad. I’m flattered, Cho.”
“That’s—that’s not what I’m saying, and you know it,” I say. I can feel myself getting flustered. Reeve’s always doing that. Twisting my words around.
Derek says, “Reeve, just kiss her already.”
“Guys, don’t pressure her,” Rennie says hastily.
Oh, now she’s looking out for me? Give me a freaking break.
Just for that, I’m doing it.
As I crawl to the middle of the circle, I can’t seem to get a good deep breath. I sit on my knees, and I keep my palms flat on the ground to steady myself. Reeve leans toward me oh-so-slowly, dragging out the moment for as long as he can. He’s grinning at me, that smug self-satisfied grin I hate. I feel myself start to panic, but I try with all my might not to shrink away from him. If I freak out right now, everyone will see it and wonder why, and I can’t have that. I have to be normal. I have to pretend I’m the same girl I was.
Reeve tips my face up, and that’s when something in his face changes. The grin drops and he’s staring into my eyes like he’s trying to puzzle something out. At the last second, instead of kissing my lips he plants a kiss at the top of my head, the kind my dad used to give me when he’d come in to say good night. I don’t know if I should feel grateful or insulted.
“No fair,” Ashlin says, shaking her finger at Reeve. “It has to be on the mouth! Those are the rules.”
PJ nods sagely and says, “Ash is right. Them’s the rules.”
“Give it a rest,” Alex says. “He kissed her.”
Reeve claps his hands together. “Who’s next?”
I crawl back to my spot. I just want to go home.
Loudly Rennie says, “It’s Reeve’s turn.”
“Yay for me.” Reeve rubs his hands together and spins the bottle. Part of me hopes the bottle will land on Rennie so I can get out of here faster, but another part hopes it won’t, so she doesn’t get what she wants. The bottle doesn’t land on her. It lands on Josh Fletcher, and everyone busts up laughing. “Come on, Fletch. Don’t be scared,” Reeve says. “I’ll do you like I did Lillia.”
“You’d better spin again, man,” Josh warns. “I don’t know where your lips have been.”
Reeve ends up spinning again, and this time it does land on Rennie. Grinning, he leans forward for a quick kiss. But Rennie has other ideas. She gets on her knees and inches across the circle until she’s right in front of him. She grabs a wad of his T-shirt and pulls him toward her. Then she kisses him like she wants to eat his face off. It starts close-mouthed, but a second later they are actually kissing kissing. She even puts her arms around his neck.
Everyone starts whooping and screaming and freaking out. It’s so sad and gross. Rennie’s making a total fool of herself in front of everybody. Especially Reeve. He already let her down easy. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to date her, but it only makes Rennie want him more. It’s pathetic.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MARY
SENOR TREMONT IS LINING UP A BUNCH OF PLASTIC vegetables on his desk and asking for volunteers to role-play a scene at a Spanish marketplace, and all I can do is smile at Alex’s empty seat.
That night was maybe the most fun I’ve ever had. Sneaking out with Lillia and Kat, laughing our butts off, speeding through the darkness. When I got home, I crept back into bed and tried to sleep, but that was pretty much impossible. I just lay there in the dark, tracing the flowers on my wallpaper with my finger and thinking how this was even better than what I’d hoped to accomplish that first day. This isn’t just about Reeve. It’s about me, and it feels like fate or magic—the girls coming into my life, right when I needed them most.
Through the window I spot Alex getting out of a car. A woman—his mom, I guess—waves good-bye and drives off. I watch him run all the way to the main doors. I hear Alex’s feet pounding the linoleum, over Senor Tremont haggling with the girl sitting behind me over how many pimentos he can buy for three euros.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Senor,” he says, rushing in. “I had a doctor’s appointment.”
Senor Tremont frowns. Then he puts a hand up to his ear, pretending like he can’t hear Alex. “En español, Senor Lind. Por favor.”
Alex is halfway to his seat. He stops, his shoulders sag, and his eyes roll to the back of his head. I have to cover my mouth to keep in a laugh.
“Yo . . . yo soy . . . ,” Alex tries.
I lean forward on my elbo
ws and cradle my chin in my hands. I really, really, really wish Lillia and Kat were here to see this for themselves.
Alex is trying to conjugate the verb “apologize” for the third time when the fire alarm goes off.
CHAPTER TWENTY
KAT
ONCE THE FIRE ALARM STARTS GOING OFF, I FLICK MY hand so that the cap of my Zippo lighter snaps closed. Just in time too, because I think I’m almost out of butane. Plus the metal case is blazing hot. I blow on it, jump off the radiator in the girls’ bathroom, and crouch down at the door. The top part of the door is wood, but the bottom is covered in thin slatted vents. I watch the hallway light get sliced by pair after pair of legs hurrying their way to the nearest exit. I hear one of the teachers say, “We didn’t have a drill planned for today, did we?” Another teacher says, “I think this might be the real deal.” They instruct their students to hurry along with urgent This is not a test voices.
Yeah. Hurry the eff up. I’ve got work to do.
I shrug off my book bag, slide my arms through the straps so that it hangs in front of my body, and open the zipper. Inside are the photocopies I made last week. I’ve also got a roll of masking tape I stole from the art room. I take that out and rip pieces off, sticking them on my arms so I can move fast.
Jar Island only has a volunteer fire department, so I figure it’ll take them at least ten minutes to get here. It takes one, maybe one and a half, for the school to empty. As soon as the coast is clear, I push open the door and start running.
The senior hallway will do the most damage, so that’s where I start, slapping up the photocopies every few feet. On classroom doors, on lockers, on the spout of the water fountain.
I know this is supposed to be Lillia’s revenge, but I have to admit, this feels pretty freaking awesome. Alex has tried calling me a few times in the last week. Not that I bothered to answer, or to call him back. He doesn’t deserve to ever speak to me again. That’s how it is with me—you do me wrong, you’re dead to me.
