Ashes to Ashes

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Ashes to Ashes Page 9

by Jenny Han


  Seth nods to the other two boys, who suddenly produce a bunch of folded papers from their pockets. Seth takes them and holds them up, two fists full. “Then why have you been writing her love notes?”

  Before he can stop himself, Benjamin looks at Betsy, slack-jawed. Like, Why? Why would you do that?

  I grit my teeth. The sky darkens above us, and the wind picks up.

  He pleads with Seth, “She started writing to me first!”

  Seth nods. “Um, yeah, you dope. Because I told her to. We wanted to see what you would say.”

  I glance at Betsy, to see if she feels even a little bit bad about what she’s done, the trouble she’s caused Benjamin, but she’s shaking her head. “Ben, I only wrote you, like, twice, and they were barely half a page. You wrote me every day, pages and pages. You’ve been obsessed with me since first grade. You even said so.”

  I feel the heat behind Benjamin’s eyes that comes right before tears. His lip begins to quiver.

  Don’t cry, I tell him silently, and every muscle in my body tightens up. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. They are evil. They aren’t worth your tears.

  “Oh my God, look!” Seth sounds gleeful. “Crybaby’s going to cry!” He steps closer and closer to Benjamin.

  I can taste it. The desperation, the humiliation. The feeling of being so alone. It’s sharp and acrid on my tongue.

  I narrow my eyes on Seth and push my arm out fast. That’s all it takes for Seth to fall backward. He hits the ground hard and cracks the back of his head on the curb. It makes a sickening sound. His hands both open up, and the letters fall out.

  The other boys look as shocked as he is.

  I glance behind me at the tree in my yard. The sky gets darker, and the wind kicks up even more, and the bare branches above us shake and shake.

  “You guys!” one of the other boys shouts. “The tree’s about to fall!”

  Using my mind, I push harder and harder against the tree. The ground buckles.

  “Look out!” someone shouts as the roots burst up through the dirt. Betsy screams, and the boys help Seth up and out of the way before the tree creaks over and snaps in half. The entire thing smashes through the bushes and falls across the street. That sends neighbors running out of their houses.

  Benjamin looks behind him. He sees me, and his eyes go wide and scared.

  He can actually see me. Just like Lillia and Kat in the bathroom.

  “Don’t be afraid!” I call out. “I’m here to help you!” I will help him, because there was no one there to help me.

  He takes a step backward, and then another, practically tripping over his sneakers. “Thank you,” he gasps. And then he turns and runs down the street.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Betsy says, and turns to hurry down the street in the opposite direction. I lift my hand once more and use my energy to knock her forward, facedown onto the street.

  She’s as guilty as the rest of them.

  She screams. The boys pick her up. Betsy’s bleeding from the mouth, crying. And her hands are bright red and cut as well. She spits a tooth out into her hand.

  Not so pretty anymore, are you, Betsy?

  As they disappear around the corner, I realize it. This is my purpose. This is why I’m here on Jar Island. I am an avenger. An avenging angel sent down to right wrongs.

  I am not weak.

  I am powerful. More powerful than I know.

  Me, Kat, and Lillia, we weren’t ever supposed to be a team. All along it has been my responsibility and mine alone. My purpose.

  It’s why I’m drawn to Reeve. Because I have a job to do, a score to settle. And once I do, I’ll finally be free.

  Chapter Twenty

  LILLIA

  FOR THE REST OF THE day, Alex is all I think about. I have to talk to him. I have to tell him how sorry I am.

  I leave my last class a few minutes early, before the bell rings, and I race over to his class and wait outside the door. When Alex walks out, I’m standing there waiting. I feel clammy and dizzy.

  His face hardens and he keeps walking. I run up to him and grab his arm. “Alex, please talk to me!”

  He jerks out of my grasp. “There’s nothing to talk about.” And then he walks away, and I just stand there, my arms hugging my chest.

  I’m still standing in the same place when Reeve appears next to me. “Are you okay?” he asks, putting his hands on my shoulders.

  “Yes.”

  Reeve looks down the hallway, in the direction where Alex walked. “I’m the dick, not you. I was his best friend. I knew how he felt about you. You’re the only girl he’s ever wanted. There’s a guy code, you know?”

  I know, because there’s a girl code too, and I did the same exact thing to Rennie.

  Reeve faces me, suddenly anxious. “He’s probably going to try to warn you against me.”

  “There’s nothing Alex could tell me about you that would change my mind.”

  Reeve nods, but he doesn’t look convinced.

  “I know everything there is to know about you!” In a teasing voice I say, “Let’s see, how many girls have there been? Teresa, and Melanie Renfro, and that junior girl Tara, and oh, half the JV cheerleading squad. And who could forget the college girl at the doughnut shop who gave you free doughnuts every morning?”

  “Cho, I only ever kissed that girl! And it was only one time, I swear.”

  I throw my arms around him and hug him to me tightly. I burrow my head into the space between his neck and his shoulder. I close my eyes and breathe in his smell. I wouldn’t go back on it even if I could. No matter what, I still choose Reeve.

  “Everything will be okay,” he says into my hair. “People just need the weekend to get over it. They’ll come around.”

  * * *

  Nadia is waiting in front of my car. “Is it true?” she asks me, her eyes accusing. “Are you and Reeve really together?” When I hesitate, she says, “You were supposed to be her best friend, Lilli!”

  It cuts me to the bone.

  “The worst part is that I had to find out along with everyone else at school. I’m your sister, Lillia. Don’t you know that’s supposed to count for something?” Her eyes well up. “You could have at least told me.”

  I whisper, “I’m sorry. I was scared of what you’d think of me. I want to be someone you can look up to, Nadi. And I guess . . . I guess I thought if you knew, you’d be ashamed of me.”

  She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t have to. She turns and starts to walk away, back toward the school.

  “Nadi! Come on! How are you going to get home?”

  But she doesn’t come back.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  MARY

  I THINK BACK TO THAT night we met at Kat’s boat, down at the Jar Island Yacht Club. It was then that our revenge plans were born, when we entered into a pact to see this thing through. There were rules. We needed them. Otherwise, how could we trust each other?

  Kat was the one who said it.

  If you’re in, you need to be in until the very end. If not, well . . . consider yourself fair game. It’ll be open season, and we’ll have a hell of a lot of ammo to use against you.

  Each of us agreed. We made that promise to each other. Each of us knew the terrible truth, that the people who know you best have the power to hurt you the worst. Rennie did it all the time. She was ruthless, a master at using people’s insecurities against them. And Reeve. Reeve always knew the perfect way to hurt me.

  Lillia and Kat may have forgotten what they promised, but I haven’t. I’m not letting them off the hook that easily. They knew what they were getting into, and they both got something out of it too. I’m the one who was left hanging, and it’s only fair that I hold them accountable.

  I know so many ways to hurt them. I know who they love; I know their prized possessions; I know their secrets.

  I am the last person they should have turned on. And they only have themselves to blame.

  I’m sandwiched between th
e barn and the open door, watching through a knot in the wood as Lillia races with Phantom to the end of the riding trail. Despite his speed, she barely has to pull on his reins to make him come to a perfect stop. She leans forward and gives his neck a tender pat before climbing out of the saddle and hopping to the ground.

  Lillia takes off her helmet and shakes out her hair, and even though the sun is barely out, her hair catches the glow. She’s wearing tight black pants tucked into knee-high riding boots the color of caramel, a fitted wool coat, and leather gloves. Her cheeks are pink from the cold. She takes Phantom’s reins and leads him toward the stables.

  He pauses and turns his head toward me as they pass my hiding place. His muscles ripple and tighten, and his black eye trains on me. He lets out an anxious snort. But Lillia clicks her tongue and nudges him forward. They walk down the center of the stable to his pen at the opposite end of the barn.

  I remember the day when Kat and I came here to hang out with her. It was one of the first times when we really felt like friends. We didn’t need a reason to hang out. There was nothing to plan or scheme about. We just wanted to be together.

  It feels like forever ago.

  When Lillia ducks inside Phantom’s stall, I creep out and hurry after her. Each pen I pass, the horse inside reacts. Whinnies and brays, hooves stomping and scraping the stable floor. I’m scared Lillia will hear the commotion and see me, so I break into a run and hide in the empty stall next to Phantom’s.

  I walk up to the shared wall. Phantom turns his head as soon as I’m there, but Lillia shushes him. She kneels down on the ground and begins loosening the strap of Phantom’s saddle under his belly.

  I lift my hand, ball it into a fist, and then flick my fingers at Phantom.

  He immediately bucks up on his hind legs, knocking Lillia onto her butt. He brays, showing his teeth.

  Lillia’s stunned. “Phantom, easy, boy,” she cries, then rolls onto her knees and gets to her feet. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” She approaches him carefully and begins to rub his neck while she glances around, looking for what’s spooking him.

  I keep flicking my fingers at him, popping my fists open and closed.

  Phantom whips his tail, snaps his jaws, and bucks up again. He lets out a terrifying whine and nearly comes down on top of Lillia. She steps out of the way just in time, but his hoof knocks into her forearm. She falls against the wall where I’m hiding and screams out in pain.

  At this point all the horses are crying and bucking and shaking the entire barn.

  One of the stable boys comes running. He grabs a rake from the side of the stall and brandishes the wooden handle at Phantom. “Easy, Phantom! Get back now!”

  Lillia screams not to hurt him, but the stable boy isn’t listening. Phantom rears up again, his ears pinned, and lunges where Lillia’s cowering. Phantom’s not attacking her. He’s trying to get at me, on the other side of the wall.

  The stable boy swings the rake handle like a bat, and it cracks against Phantom’s neck so hard that the wood snaps in half. Phantom steps back and lunges again, leaving the stable boy with only a splintered wooden spear to wield him off.

  He’s about to jab when Lillia grabs him, pulls him out of the stall, and quickly shuts the gate.

  “I could have calmed him down!” she screams, cradling her arm. “You almost killed him!”

  “He almost killed you,” the boy says, panting. “Is it broken?”

  Lillia shakes her head. She has tears streaming down her face. She shrugs off her jacket. Her arm is bright red and swollen and already beginning to turn purple.

  “He’s never done anything like that before,” she says, wiping her eyes. “I don’t know what happened.”

  The stable boy runs off to get Lillia some ice. I hear her crying outside Phantom’s pen. I know exactly what she’s feeling. It’s terrible when a friend you trust turns on you.

  * * *

  A heartbeat later I’m at the Jar Island Yacht Club, standing in front of Judy Blue Eyes, the Catalina daysailer Kat named after her mother. I expected to be more tired than I am, from all the stuff I did to Phantom, but I’m not. I feel strong.

  One of Aunt Bette’s books predicted this would happen as I grew more confident and increased my focus. The book phrased it like a warning, but to me it feels like something to celebrate.

  It’s clear that my ties to Lillia and Kat are what made me weak. Worrying about them and their problems. If I hadn’t met them, maybe I would have come to these realizations a lot earlier. I’d already be free, in a better place.

  Kat’s boat is closed up for winter, with a tarp stretched taut across it and the sail tied tightly to the mast. With the smallest wave of my hand, every knot comes undone. The tarp and the sail snap from their tethers, and the wind carries them away like ribbons.

  I lift my hands up and the waves begin to swell. The other boats tied up along the dock bob in the water. But they are nothing compared to Kat’s boat. It’s as if all the energy in the ocean is being pooled underneath it.

  Finally the boat lifts high enough. I lower my hand fast, and the thing launches into the air, like the water was a rubber band that I just snapped. The boat hits one of the rocks and is pulverized into wooden splinters.

  The dockworkers come running. They can’t believe their eyes. I know one of them will eventually figure out whose boat that was, and they’ll call Kat and let her know it’s destroyed.

  Sorry, Kat. But you knew what you signed up for.

  Actually, I’m not sorry. Not one little bit.

  They deserved to be punished.

  Now, Reeve—he deserves way worse. He deserves to die.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  LILLIA

  REEVE’S TRUCK IS WAITING IN front of my house on Monday morning. I run up to it and jump inside. “What are you doing here?” I ask him. He didn’t say anything about picking me up when we were on the phone last night.

  “Driving my girl to school,” he says, kissing me on the cheek. “How’s your arm?” I pull up my sleeve. I’m purple from my wrist to my elbow. “Damn.”

  “It looks worse than it feels,” I tell him. That’s a lie. It hurts like crazy. But it wasn’t Phantom’s fault. He’d never hurt me on purpose. Something spooked him.

  I climb in and notice immediately that Reeve’s truck smells good. Like, super good. Reeve passes me a white Milky Morning bag, and I open it. It’s monkey bread and an organic apple juice. “Reeve! My favorite things!”

  He grins a pleased kind of grin. “Where’s Nadia?”

  “She’s getting a ride with Patrice,” I say.

  “Is she still mad?” Reeve puts the truck in reverse and backs out of my driveway.

  I nod. “The only time she spoke to me all weekend was when my dad said he was thinking about selling Phantom for what happened, and then we both freaked out and begged him not to.” I take a big bite of the monkey bread. “Thank you for my breakfast. Want some?” I dangle it under his nose, even though I know he’s going to say no.

  He makes a face. “Too sweet.”

  The closer we get to school, the more nervous I get about seeing everybody. I guess Reeve can tell, because he reaches over and takes my hand without saying anything.

  We walk into school holding hands too. I try to let go, but Reeve just holds tighter. “No more hiding, Cho. That’s a good thing.”

  Then I spot Ash coming down the hallway, and our eyes meet, and she just keeps walking like she doesn’t see me. And all I want to do is run and hide. Reeve notices, of course, but he doesn’t say anything about Ash. Instead he starts telling me this story about some soldier who had a dog in Afghanistan. He was a bomb-sniffing dog, and this guy was his trainer. Anyway, the story goes on and on and on, and it’s hard to follow at points. Basically Reeve just rambles while I get my books out of my locker. Magically, the story ends just as I reach my homeroom door.

  “You did that to distract me,” I say.

  “Did it work?”


  I nod. It did.

  “See you later, Cho.”

  But for Reeve “later” turns out to mean as soon as the first-period bell rings. He’s there to escort me to class. And it happens like that, all day. I don’t know how he does it, but no matter where his classes are, he’s waiting outside my classroom door when the bell rings, ready to walk me to my next period. He doesn’t leave me alone once.

  At lunch it’s just the two of us at the lunch table. I don’t know where the rest of our friends are. But Reeve makes me laugh, he makes me forget, and the day isn’t so bad. It’s kind of good.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  KAT

  DURING MY FREE PERIOD I go visit my old earth-science teacher and play her the message that my boss at the yacht club left on my phone this weekend. His voice sounds frayed and choppy, like he’s distracted. Or confused. But he claims there was a weather phenomenon like they’d never seen before. He called it a “flash tide.” Apparently it was so worrisome, they radioed for the coast guard. Anyway, my boat was destroyed.

  My boat was the only one destroyed.

  “So what’s a ‘flash tide’?” I ask.

  Mrs. Hilman shakes her head. “There’s no such thing. The tides are the most predictable natural phenomena on earth. They don’t have irregularities. You can literally figure them out to the minute.”

  “That lying bastard. I knew it!”

  I bet it was some kind of fuck-up with the off-season skeleton crew as they moved around boats to prepare for the summer people coming back to the island. Someone probably crashed a yacht into mine, and now they’re trying to cover it up. They must have been going way too fast, because there wasn’t anything salvageable. He told me as much, but I still wanted to see it for myself. I tried to pick out a few bits of wood, ones where Dad had painted the name on the hull, thinking maybe I could glue them back together. But there was no way.

  Mrs. Hillman gazes at me incredulously. “You didn’t pay attention at all in my class, did you? You’d just zone out like this. We did an entire week on tides.”

 

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