What If ... Your Past Came Back to Haunt You

by Liz Ruckdeschel

“Well, go put it back together. Now,” Haley commanded. She got up and started clearing away plates. Reese helped her.

  “So—the history club?” Haley said to him. “Student Senate? Math Olympics? How are you going to fit all that into your schedule?”

  “It can be done,” Reese said. “This is the year that counts, Haley. You said that yourself.”

  “I know,” Haley said, but she still felt a little bruised by the news. From the day the Millers had moved to Hillsdale, New Jersey, there’d been something between Haley and Reese—an attraction and a bond—but their relationship never seemed to reach its full potential. Something was always in the way, whether it was another girl for Reese, another boy for Haley, a misunderstanding or now just their crazy schedules.

  “My calendar’s nothing compared to some people’s,” Reese said. “Look at Dave Metzger. Look at Annie Armstrong.”

  He was right, of course. Reese wasn’t the only one trying to cram as much as he could into each day. Almost everyone Haley knew at school was going crazy with SAT prep classes and honors courses. Perry Miller was right when he said Haley had calmed down, but it seemed she was the only one at Hillsdale High School who wasn’t in total college-panic mode. The place was frenetic. Annie Armstrong, debate team leader and Reese’s main competition for valedictorian, had started four new clubs at school this year alone, including Planet Please, an environmental club whose goal was “to reduce our carbon footprint while marching to Washington.” Membership was extremely time-consuming, involving picketing, protesting, fund-raising, letter-writing and school-wide consciousness-raising.

  “Annie doesn’t count,” Haley said. “She’s not a person, she’s a machine. She’s a computer with legs and a soap box.”

  Reese chuckled and took a pile of plates into the kitchen. At the mere mention of Annie, Haley found herself thinking about the debate team, and those thoughts led her, of course, to Alex Martin. Pesky thoughts. She tried to swat them away—not while Reese is here!—but they kept coming back, nagging at her like a mosquito.

  She pushed through the kitchen door, dirty plates in hand, the image of Alex fiercely debating her in her mind. Alex was a senior, so he had the worst of the precollege grind behind him. Not that anything had ever been hard for him. Supersmart, very competitive and bookishly adorable, he’d shown more than an academic interest in Haley all fall. But he was so conservative, even more than Reese’s parents. Politically speaking, Alex and Haley were like oil and water. Wouldn’t it be dangerous to try to mix them? Wasn’t that always a hopeless combination?

  Still, she couldn’t deny an attraction to him. How else could she explain the way he kept popping into her mind while gorgeous Reese was right in front of her?

  Barbara Highland left the den and wandered into the kitchen to help with the coffee. “I brought my digital camera,” she said. “Wouldn’t it be nice to get some pictures of our families together?”

  “That’s a lovely idea,” Joan said. “Kids! Let’s gather in front of the fireplace.”

  “Um, where did you leave your digital camera?” Haley asked. Haley and Joan exchanged a knowing look.

  “In the living room. Why?”

  Haley dashed in that direction, and a moment later screamed, “Mitchell!”

  “My camera! It’s all over the floor!” Barbara exclaimed when she entered the room.

  “I’ll find him,” Haley said. She checked the den, but he wasn’t there. “Mitchell!” Haley shouted again, running upstairs to check his room. There he was, sitting on his bed, just putting the finishing touches on the reconfigured remote. “You’re not supposed to take apart things that belong to guests—you know that!”

  “I was bored,” he said. “And the camera was sitting right there on the coffee table. . . . It was so tempting. You know how it is. A digital camera to me is like an electronic cupcake.”

  “Go fix it,” Haley said. “Mrs. Highland is totally freaking.”

  She dragged her little brother downstairs. “We’re so sorry, Barbara,” Joan was saying as Barbara and Oliver continued to stare in shock at the remains of her camera. “But I promise it’s not as bad as it looks. Mitchell does this all the time. And ninety-five percent of the time, things still work after he puts them back together.”

  “It’s true,” Mitchell said, sitting down on the rug to reassemble the camera as easily as if he were doing a toddler’s wooden puzzle. The Highlands watched in amazement.

  “That’s incredible,” Barbara gasped.

  “Your son’s very . . . different, isn’t he?” Oliver said, less amused.

  “He’ll be done by the time dessert’s ready,” Perry assured them. “And we can take pictures then.”

  He herded the Highlands away from Mitchell’s busy little fingers. Haley knew from experience that Mitchell would be able to put the camera back together as good as new, if not better. But watching him do it was often pretty nerve-wracking.

  Unfortunately for Haley, all this fuss about cameras triggered thoughts of another classmate, Devon McKnight. Devon was a talented and serious photographer, friends with artsy rebels Irene Chen and Shaun Willkommen, and very cute in an unconventional way. He and Haley had been circling each other ever since he arrived at Hillsdale, and she still couldn’t help finding him intriguing. Devon was quiet, moody and a little mysterious, which only made Haley obsess over him all the more. And no one could ever accuse him of overscheduling his time. He was serious about art, but not so serious about school.

  “What’ll you have, Haley?” Reese’s blue eyes twinkled under his mussed black hair as he offered her pecan pie, apple pie, cherry cobbler, chocolate cake or her mom’s pumpkin pudding.

  What am I doing? she thought, chastising herself. Look at the guy standing right in front of me offering me my choice of homemade desserts. He’s nice, well-mannered, an athletic and academic superstar and the best-looking guy in our class. So why am I thinking about someone else?

  “I’ll take . . . “ Haley weighed her options carefully, then caught a glimpse of her mother’s hopeful face. “The pumpkin pudding,” she said finally, much to Reese’s surprise.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. Reese had tied Joan’s apron over his jeans and button-down shirt to serve, half as a joke. It somehow set off his muscular shoulders and only made him more adorable.

  Adorable, but not quite attainable, Haley thought, remembering the ambitious plans he’d recited to her only a few minutes before. It must mean something that I keep thinking about Devon and Alex, even when I’m with Reese. Maybe I should keep my options open instead of mooning over a guy who’s impossible to pin down. He’d certainly had enough chances to catch her in the past.

  Then Reese served her a bowl of pumpkin pudding with a huge dollop of vanilla ice cream, and of course she felt the irresistible tug of his charm all over again.

  Thanksgiving’s here, and Haley has plenty to be thankful for. She can be thankful that Mitchell knows how to put together what he takes apart. That Joan is not such an antisugar fascist that she’d embarrass Haley in front of the Highlands and refuse to allow their delicious desserts into the house. Most of all, Haley is thankful to the kitchen gods for breaking the Highlands’ oven at this very opportune moment and letting her spend a long day of feasting her eyes on the delectable Reese.

  But when the weekend is over, then what? Back to the grind of school and Reese’s endless list of activities to keep them apart. And back to the temptations of Alex, Devon and who knows who else? It’s all a bit much.

  Still, Reese is right about one thing: with her academic schedule pretty much under control, Haley could use a new activity to beef up her transcript. The question is, what should it be? Should Haley try to tag along with Reese, in hopes of spending more time with him and cementing their relationship? Or is that a lost cause? Should she strike out on her own, indulge her independent streak and find a cause of her own to champion? Maybe she should surrender to genetics and admit that she’s an environmentalist at h
eart.

  If you want Haley to follow in her parents’ footsteps and join Annie Armstrong’s pro-environment group, Planet Please, turn to (PLANETARY PROBLEMAS). If you think Haley shouldn’t give up on Reese so easily, have her stick closer to him by going to (BOYS DO CRY).

  Will Haley still be thankful by Christmas? Or will she find cause for regret? Her fate is in your hands.

  PLANETARY PROBLEMAS

  * * *

  No one likes a prophet of doom.

  TO: All 11th-grade girls at Hillsdale High

  FROM: Her Divinity, Coco De Clerq (all hail!)

  RE: Pushy little upstarts

  Girls,

  It has come to my attention that Annie Armstrong, about as nobody a nobody as anyone can be in the hierarchy of Hillsdale, has started at least four new clubs this semester and may have plans for more. I don’t know exactly what she’s up to, but I smell a lame attempt to take over the school. (And when I say smell, I mean literally smell—as anyone who’s been within sniffing distance of her manic nutjob boyfriend, Dave Metzger, can attest.) As I’m sure you all understand, school takeover cannot be tolerated in any way, shape or form. I don’t know who Annie thinks she is, but I can tell you what she totally, totally isn’t, and that’s a class leader.

  That, darlings, is why you will all avoid little Miss Armstrong’s many “projects” like the West Nile virus. If you know what’s good for you, that is. And I think you do. Remember, I’ve got the power of the whole state of New Jersey behind me now, so I’m not fooling around. This isn’t kid stuff, people. I shall be obeyed!

  Coco

  “Didn’t you get the memo?” Coco De Clerq stopped Haley as she crossed the rotunda after school on her way to the first meeting of Annie Armstrong’s new save-the-environment club, Planet Please. “No Annie Armstrong activities allowed.”

  The usual suspects draped themselves around the stone tables in the exclusive upperclassman hangout: skinny, overdone Coco in her expensive designer dress and boots; blond, voluptuous Whitney Klein wearing her own designs and trading jokes with her new stepsister-to-be, lanky soccer goddess Sasha Lewis, and Sasha’s rocker boyfriend, Johnny Lane; and dark, funky cheerleader Cecily Watson in the lap of her boyfriend, football player Drew Napolitano. Hunky Spanish exchange student Sebastian Bodega leaned against a wall sipping coffee with his compatriot, the leggy model Mia Delgado. Laughing in a far corner were arty eccentrics Irene Chen and her boyfriend, Shaun Willkommen. And jumping over the stairs on their beat-up skateboards were Garrett “the Troll” Noll and a thug known only as Chopper.

  “I got the memo,” Haley said. “And I decided to ignore it.”

  Haley had spotted Coco arriving at school that morning in an entourage of gas-guzzling SUVs, wearing a fur-trimmed jacket, and that had sealed the deal. If the Cocos of the world were wasting its natural resources with such reckless abandon, somebody had to do something to offset the damage, and fast.

  “Big mistake, Miller,” Coco warned. “I don’t send out memos only to have them ignored. You just ruined your junior year.”

  “Whatever.” Coco’s warnings used to intimidate Haley, but since Coco had experienced a few humiliations of her own, they’d lost a bit of their sting. Haley walked away.

  “Saving the environment is such a giant cliché!” Coco called after her. “Annie Armstrong is social bird flu, don’t you know that? Okay then, have fun with the dorks!”

  Haley knew that associating with uptight Annie wasn’t the coolest thing to do, socially speaking, but she had decided she didn’t care. Some things were bigger than popularity; some things were more important. Haley had resolved that it was far better to stand up for what she believed in than to be intimidated by peer pressure. And she believed in a green planet.

  Just ahead, outside the debate room, which doubled as Planet Please’s new headquarters, Haley noticed more commotion. A guy was picketing in front of the classroom with a homemade sign. He was alone but was making a lot of noise.

  “Stop the madness!” he shouted. “Global warming is a myth! You want to see a waste of resources? This is a waste of resources! School resources! Environmental activists are wasting time, money, paper—everything—on a false premise!”

  Haley’s heart sank. The protester was none other than Alex Martin, preppy senior and cocaptain of the debate team. Haley had always thought he was kind of cute for a conservative. Heck, he was cute regardless of his political ideology. But cuteness didn’t excuse this.

  Alex marched up and down in front of the debate room, with its PLEASE JOIN PLANET PLEASE NOW! sign taped on the door, in his khakis and blue button-down shirt, his side-parted chestnut hair sticking up slightly in the back. He waved his sign, which said GLOBAL WARMING IS A MYTH on one side and FACE THE TRUTH! BOYCOTT PLANET PLEASE! on the other.

  Haley tried to sneak past Alex, but there was no getting past him. “Haley! Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To a meeting,” Haley said. “I’m all for free speech, but you’re way off base on this.” She reached for the doorknob.

  “Don’t go in there!” Alex shouted. “Global warming is a lie. You’re all being brainwashed! If anything, we’re heading into another ice age. Face the truth! And don’t waste your time on a nonexistent problem. Come on, Haley—a smart girl like you could be such an asset for the conservative cause.”

  “Sorry, Alex, but that’s just not my thing,” Haley said.

  The door opened and Annie popped her head out. “Oh good! Another recruit. Get in here, Haley. Just ignore that maniac.”

  Haley went inside and shut the door on Alex’s shouts of “I speak the truth! You can’t ignore it forever!”

  What a shame, Haley thought. How could such a bright guy be so clueless at the same time? It was a mystery. Still, she couldn’t help admiring his courage and persistence; it took guts to stand up in the face of such overwhelming scientific evidence.

  She surveyed the room and was disappointed to see that Coco’s memo had done its work. Planet Please had drawn only four other members: Dave Metzger, who had to be there because Annie was his girlfriend; Ryan McNally, a recycling fanatic known as “the cleanup kid”; Dale Smithwick, one of Annie’s debate team cronies; and Hannah Moss, a tiny genius who had skipped several grades and was both a friend and competitor to Annie and Dave. Haley settled into a seat by the window overlooking the school parking lot.

  “Looks like this is about as many people as we can expect, with Alex out there scaring everybody away and Coco blackballing anyone who joins the club,” Annie said. “So let’s get started. The mission of Planet Please, as you know, could not be simpler: to bring awareness of the dangers of global warming to Hillsdale, to activate the student body to reduce wasteful consumption, and to force Washington to face the issue and do something about it. The question is, where to start? I have a few ideas, but I’d like to hear from you guys. Hannah?”

  “I say our first goal should be greening up the cafeteria,” Hannah said. “They could do a lot more to recycle drink cartons, they could stop using those chemical foam cups for drinks. . . .”

  As the group batted ideas around, Haley found her attention drifting out the window to the gray weather. The parking lot was still nearly full of cars, since most kids had after-school activities until dinner-time. But the familiar roar of a rusty engine rattled from a far corner of the lot. Haley saw exhaust pouring from the back of a beat-up old convertible, the top down in spite of the threat of rain. She recognized the car instantly—it belonged to Devon McKnight, who sat in the driver’s seat, his messy light brown hair blowing in the stormy breeze. But who was that beside him? The girl was facing Devon, so Haley couldn’t quite tell who she was; she could only make out the neon blond hair. Devon gunned the engine and the car roared out of the lot with a squeal of tires, leaving the mystery of the blonde’s identity unsolved.

  During lulls in the meeting, Haley found herself thinking about Devon. Haley was surprised at how chilly she felt toward the gir
l in the passenger seat, whoever she was. Why? She knew it wasn’t quite fair, given that she hadn’t so much as spoken to Devon in a couple of weeks. He couldn’t be expected to maintain his unrequited crush on her forever. But what if he didn’t have feelings for Haley anymore? What if he’d moved on and found someone new to like? Someone who liked him back? How would Haley feel about that?

  Fine, she told herself. I’d feel just fine. We come from different worlds. It would never have worked. But the idea of Devon with a girlfriend still rankled.

  Then something happened that made her forget all about the blonde. Mrs. Highland’s car sped into the lot—she was driving uncharacteristically fast—and stopped at the end closest to the athletic fields. Reese hobbled toward the car—on crutches! Mrs. Highland got out and opened the passenger door for her son. One of Reese’s soccer teammates helped him in and shut the door behind him. The car sped away, presumably to some medical office or emergency room.

  “Haley, are you with us?” Annie asked.

  “Huh?” Haley looked away from the window, feeling a tad panicky. What had happened to Reese? Suddenly, his welfare seemed more important—in the short run, anyway—than the destruction of the planet.

  At that moment, the door flew open and Alex leaned into the room. “How’s it going in here, kids? Save the planet yet?”

  “Get out of here, Alex,” Annie snapped.

  “Gladly,” Alex said. “I hate the smell of chlorophyll in the afternoon. But before I go, I’d like to announce that I am forming an environmental club of my own. It’s called the Global Warming Is a Myth club, or GWIM, if you will. You’re all welcome to join once you wake up and realize this country was founded on business principles, not charity for plants and birds. Cheers! And may the better environmental club win.”

  Haley’s being torn in several conflicting directions. Unfortunately, she can’t do everything at once. But which way should she go?