I picked up the half she slid across the lunchroom table to me and took a bite of the thick frosting, not caring that it was smearing across my upper lip. That was the nice thing about being a lip gloss girl: you could always wipe it away and put more on. "Yeah, you were sure right."
Marissa grinned and cut a small piece of her cupcake with a fork, lifting it to her mouth, bracelets jangling on her wrist. "Ohmigod, do you realize that you'll have a date to prom? Your reentry into society is excellently timed."
I rolled my eyes at her. "Yeah, this was all about my reentry. I didn't think of that."
"But of course, I'm mostly just happy because you're happy," Marisa said, eating a bite of cupcake. "So, you did the luau on Saturday ... What did you guys do last night?"
"We wanted to go to the movies, but I only could get a few hours free, so Jason drove us to West Seattle. We got fish and chips and walked along the beach at Alki."
"I love Alki."
"It was great. Sunset and yummy, greasy food."
"And Jason."
"Yeah, and Jason," I said. I wanted to tell her more, but I was still working on describing how I felt about him. It wasn't just that I enjoyed his company and that his kisses made my knees go weak like in some romance novel, it was that I loved his kindness. And, I was beginning to see, I loved him, in general.
"So, you're over Rob," Marisa said, glancing at me beneath her long lashes. "You've finally let that all go?"
"I don't think I'll ever be over him. But life does go on, you know?"
"Yeah." Marisa folded the cupcake paper into a triangle and set it on her lunch tray.
I chewed the last bite of the sweet, wondering where Jason was this lunchtime. I hadn't seen him since our chem class that morning.
"Hey." Mark took a seat on the bench next to Marisa. He was wearing a plaid button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled perfectly against his tan forearms. His gaze traced over my lunch tray, like he was hoping I was going to share a bite of the fries hanging out in the paper boat.
"Hi, Mark. What's up?" I tried to sound casual, less get-the-hell-out-of-here than I felt. Mark and Jason were friends—if I was going to be with him, we would have to strike a truce.
"What's up? Well, I'm just making my rounds, checking on the hot chicks in the lunchroom," he said, looking between us.
"Nice." Marissa fell for it, returning his smile.
I tried not to choke on my sip of milk. "Yeah, that's ... awesome."
Mark nodded at Marisa, completely ignoring my ambivalence. "You're coming to Jason's birthday party, right? I mean, I hope you're coming."
"Definitely," Marisa said. "I'll look for you there." She tossed her dark hair and smoothed her bangs back behind one ear. She only did that stuff when she liked a guy, and I couldn't believe she thought Mark warranted that. Even when I'd been a so-called part of their tribe, he'd never given her a second glance.
"I suppose you'll be busy," Mark said, turning to me. "Jason told me about your taking care of the old dude."
"Right. Gotta watch the old dude," I repeated, saluting him with my milk carton. "Even on my boyfriend's birthday."
Marisa's phone vibrated with a text. "Oh, sorry. I gotta go," she said, checking it as she stood up. "Janna from my design class is watching a live feed of the Zac Posen fall collection in the library. We're doing a project on him."
I waved goodbye, expecting Mark to follow her out the caf doors, but he sat there, smiling at me. His smile said a million things, none of them good, as theightfar as I could tell.
"What?" I set my milk down on my tray of half-eaten hamburger and cold fries. "You obviously have something on your mind, Mark. Go ahead, let's hear it. You think I should stay away from Jason. It's my fault Rob died. Go ahead, don't disappoint me."
"Wow. Much hostility," Mark said, raising his hands in surrender. "Can't a guy stop by to say hello to his buddy's girl?"
"This is the first time you've sat down to talk to me in months. There's got to be a reason."
Mark leaned forward, finally reaching for one of my uneaten fries. "I just thought you should know what he told me the other night."
"The other night? He was hanging with me this weekend."
"Saturday, during your luau ... I came by."
"Oh." So that had been Mark at the door. Jason hadn't mentioned him, but then again, what had there been to mention? That Mark had tried to crash one of the best nights of my life?
"You're under some illusion that this is all lovey-dovey—I can tell. But it's not about you at all." Mark dipped the fry in my ketchup and took a bite.
"Does Jason know you're doing this? Did you tell him you were going to come harass me?"
"I'm talking with you out of respect."
"Respect. I didn't know you knew that word."
"Holly, don't be a bitch."
I felt slapped. "I'm a bitch because I'm standing up for myself? How does that work?"
Mark let out a frustrated sigh. "Sorry, forget I said that. I just want you to listen. Jason told me that he feels closer to Rob when he's with you."
"So?" I balled up the napkin in my lap and set it over the fries on my lunch tray.
"Can't you see he's using you? Rob had you, and Jason wanted you. All this stuff about helping you—with your stupid list or whatever—it's all part of his plan to get what Rob had."
The list. Jason had told him about Grandpa Aldo's list? That surprised me, but I tried to stay calm, not show Mark that anything he said meant something to me. "Wait. You got all this out of Jason saying that he feels closer to Rob when he's with me?"
Mark shook his head. "Holly, Holly. I knew you were naive, but come on."
"No, go ahead, explain."
"Jason has been jealous of Rob ever since the three of us met in kindergarten. Rob was better looking, Rob was an athlete, Rob got the girls. With him out of th "times nethe picture, Jason's spreading his wings like a little birdy learning to fly. The sad thing is that after he's done with you, he'll move on to the next girl. He's just using you. You're a launching pad."
"I can't believe I'm sitting here listening to this," I said, standing up and snatching the tray from the table. I walked toward the kitchen to dump the garbage and recycling. Mark followed me.
"Holly, I'm telling you this because I don't want you to get hurt ... again."
"That's crap." I slammed the tray against the side of the bin, clearing the trash, and then put it in the pile on the cart near the kitchen door. I couldn't get out of there fast enough.
Mark kept pace with me as I moved down the hall. "You think he'd actually like you for real? Why would he choose you when he could have girls like Faith with a snap of his fingers?"
"Maybe he likes me for me."
"Oh, like Rob did? You were never the right girl for Rob. We both know that you're not like us."
"What? Because I don't live in the hills like you?"
Mark stopped beside me at my locker. "I'm not going to lie. That's part of it." I slammed open my locker door, making Mark step back. "It's fine if you don't want to believe me," he said. "Just wait and see what happens. You'll see how he really is."
"I know how he is."
He blocked my way. "Then you should know how his little plan has been unfolding. It's perfection, if I do say so myself."
I shouldered past him, heading to my next class. Kids clumped near the classroom doors seemed to stare at me as I passed them, but maybe I was just paranoid.
"Watch and see," called out Mark.
I didn't respond, and I didn't glance back, in case all the doubts swirling around inside me showed on my face.
***
Jason waited by the parking lot door the next day, Tuesday afternoon. He was hoping to give Holly a ride home, but he hadn't seen her all day. She'd skipped chem that morning and wasn't answering her phone. Not unusual, considering the restriction on her minutes. He wondered if it might be all right to buy her a prepaid phone with lots of minutes for her birthday. Her mom
would probably be cool with that, right?
"Dude, way to go," a junior from his second period class slapped him on the back as he stood near the open door.
"What?"
The guy just turned and nodded as he headed out to a group of friends waiting near a pickup truck in the lot.
m" nt>
He checked his phone again. Nothing. Climbing behind the wheel of the Audi, he felt a little unsettled. Where was Holly? He rolled toward the exit of the parking lot, deciding to head to her place to make sure everything was okay.
"Hey," Mark shouted from near Dan's car.
Jason waited as Mark jogged over. "You seen Holly?"
Mark shook his head. "Not since lunch yesterday."
"You had lunch with her?"
"I just chatted with her for a minute," Mark said, a little smirk playing on his lips.
Dan waved at Jason as he approached. "What's up? You ready to cruise some parties this weekend?"
"What?"
"Well, I heard how you hit it and quit it," Dan said. "Single again—I'm so glad."
Mark gave a little cough. "Dan," he said.
"Sorry. Maybe you're all broken up about it," Dan said.
"Holly? You guys are talking about Holly?"
Dan gave him a smile. "That's the good word. You and Holly hooked up this weekend and then kapow—game over. Nice work."
Jason's blood rose to his face. "You guys have something to do with this rumor? 'Cause that's what it is, Dan, you idiot. I didn't hit it and quit it. I wouldn't do that to Holly."
"Sorry," Dan said again, holding up his hands this time. "Just what I heard."
"Well, you heard wrong." Jason put the car in park and grabbed the front of Mark's shirt, nearly pulling him in through the driver's window of the Audi. "I can't believe you, Mark."
"Hey, let me go. Why would I possibly have talked crap about you guys?"
He shoved Mark back onto his feet, knocking him into Dan, who was standing there watching with his mouth agape. "I'm going to find Holly, and you'd better pray she hasn't heard this crap," Jason said.
Mark straightened his shirt, feigning indignation. "What kind of lowlife has she turned you into? Is that what they do in the flats? Make a bunch of threats?"
Jason didn't say another word. He calmly put the car into drive and rolled down the hill toward the street. He forced himself to calm down, blowing breaths in and out, trying to let it all go. How did Mark coast through life being such an ass? Money? Charm? Jason would gladly trade both for an honest friend who had his back.
***
You marvel how a teddy bear set in a cardboard box can seem so sad, so abandoned. Yours is named Harrison and still wears his bright blue bowtie, like he's been invited to some kind of gala. He looks so defeated now though, as if he knows he's about to be shipped to the Goodwill and priced with a dollar tag.
Kayla enters your room and plucks Harrison from the box. "Mom, I want to keep him," she says.
"Sure. Rob would like that." Your mom is right—you're happy he'll sit on Kayla's shelf with her other animals, happy that Harrison has escaped the price gun for at least a little while.
Kayla runs out with Harrison, to introduce him to his new roommates.
Your dad comes in and stands in the doorway, surveying the scene. "Here, I'll start on his clothes," he says, moving to the closet. He takes out a gray suit, the one you wore to your grandma's funeral a couple of years ago. It was too small, even when you wore it on that day—the pants were high waters. Your dad smiles, as if he's picturing you on that day, your white socks showing when you sat on the folded chairs on the cemetery greens. He lays the suit in an open black plastic bag, the kind you use for leaves, for things that are shed. He takes a few sweaters down from the shelves, sets them in a neat stack.
Your mom stops her work of packing away the books and sports trophies on the shelves and lies down on the bed, cuddling her arms around the sweaters. "I miss him," she moans, burying her face in the pile of wool.
"I know." Your dad puts the stack of pants he's holding into the bag and slides onto the bed, spooning your mom. He kisses her hair, wraps his arms over and around her. "And I'm right here with you. Everything's going to be okay. It's all going to get better, I promise."
Your mom lets go of the pile of sweaters and turns to face him. "I want him to be at peace," she says.
"He's in a better place now. I'm sure he'll find it." He holds her chin in his hands. "But can you ever forgive me?" he says, his lower lip quivering.
"It's not your fault," your mom says.
"I read something—something he was writing on his Mac one day. He left it open, and I was in his room dropping some mail off on his desk. It wasn't exactly a suicide note, but I couldn't bring myself to ask him about it. I mean, he came back into his room while I was standing there reading what looked like some kind of goodbye letter, and I froze. What is wrong with me? Why the hell didn't I just talk to him?"
"Hush," your mom says, touching her finger to his lips.
He moves it away. "Our son was in pain. So much pain. I should have been there for him." Your dad's voice is a whisper, a husk, an empty shell. "I guess I was afraid. I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault," you say. "You guys have to see that."
Your mom's eyelashes sparkle with tears. "Buith/div>
"It's not your freaking fault," you say, your voice rising, though they can't hear it. It's the only thing they need to know—the one thing you would tell them if you could.
Your mom holds your dad's face in her hands. "Listen to me—the doctor is right. We're going to make it through this together. Losing Rob is a reminder that we only have this tiny little slice of time," she says. "And we're not going to waste it being miserable anymore."
"I'm going to love you so much better," your dad says. "I'm going to be there for both you and Kayla. I promise. I'm never going to walk away from the hard times again."
He kisses your mom. And you get the sense that they are going to be all right. That they are going to be even better, maybe. That they don't need your help.
***
"What are you doing here?" I let Marisa in on Tuesday afternoon. We were just about to eat dinner early—nothing fancy, just some soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, which Lena had requested.
"Why did you miss school today?" Marisa asked.
"Ugh. I didn't feel good. I woke up with the worst cramps, and Grandpa Aldo has some kind of cold starting up," I said, setting an extra place at the table.
"That's okay, Hols. I didn't come here to eat dinner. Though it does smell good," Marisa said, glancing toward the stove. "Mom's cooking some lentils and rice. I promised her I'd bring the car back after I swung by with your homework."
"You're not in my classes."
"She doesn't know that."
"True."
"So, you haven't talked to Jason all day?"
"No. He tried to call me earlier, but I didn't want to talk. I just feel crummy."
"But you guys are talking, right? I mean, nothing bad happened over the weekend?"
"I told you, the weekend was one of the best of my life."
"We had a luau!" said Lena.
"Hey, Lena, why don't you and Grandpa go wash up for dinner," I said, pulling back her chair.
She groaned but took Aldo's hand. "Come on, Grandpa."
Once they were off down the hall, Marisa leaned in close to me. "I heard that you broke up."
"What?"
"Some girls in my gym class were talking about it this morning. One of them has a crush on Jason and, well, she was happy he was back on the market."
My stomach dropped. "What? We didn't break up."
"Good," Marisa said, exhaling. "That's what I thought."
"What else were they saying?"
Marisa gave my shoulders a squeeze. "Just a bunch of crap about you," she said slowly. "Sorry."
"It's probably his stupid friends trying to break us up. Why do they hate me?"
>
Marisa toyed with a spoon from one of the place settings. "I don't know. But Jason doesn't feel that way, obviously."
"You know, after you left the lunchroom yesterday, Mark was a complete jerk," I said, crossing my arms across my belly. "He hated me before, when I was dating Rob, and he hates me now that I'm seeing Jason."
"Now that you're loved by Jason," Marisa said.
"Does someone who loves you tell his stupid friend a bunch of personal stuff about you?" I said, flashing back to Mark, to what he said in the hallway, how he'd known about the list.
"Jason is a guy. They all talk," Marisa said. "We spend all this time imagining stuff about our futures with them, and they spend time dissecting the present. I mean, remember when I made out with Kent Greely at the baseball game last summer? He told everyone."
"Why do they do that?"
Marisa shrugged. "I don't know—so that people think they're a real man or something? It's all about what other people think, not what they feel."
"You think Jason would have said something about us?"
"Well, he certainly wouldn't have lied about stuff between you. Would he?"
"I don't think so."
"And you remember everything that happened this weekend?"
"I wasn't drinking," I said. "Not this time."
Marisa looked totally relieved. "Good. Then you just go to school and ignore people. Okay? Isn't that the best strategy?"
"Ignore people about what?"
"Holly." Marisa toyed with one of the bracelets on her wrists, avoiding my stare. "They said that you hooked up with Jason and Mark the same night. That that's why Jason dumped you."
"Holy crap."
ont>"times new roman">"I told them it couldn't be true," Marisa said. "I told those girls in my gym class it never could have happened. That you're not like that."
Grandpa and Lena came back into the kitchen. "All clean," Lena announced, helping him into his seat.
"I have to get the car back," Marisa said. "You want a ride to Jason's house? I think you need to talk to him."
I gestured toward my family, toward dinner. "Thanks, but..." I stood up and walked her to the door.
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