Tagged

by Mara Purnhagen

  “What does it mean, exactly?” I asked her. I turned off the computer and retreated to my room. “Is Reva going nuts? Is she going to come after me?”

  The image of Reva on the rampage was an unpleasant one. I could picture her storming down the hallway to confront me at my locker and stabbing me in the chest with one of her spiky-heeled shoes in a fit of rage.

  “I don’t know what it means, but the timing is strange,” Lan said. “Did you hear they caught the graffiti artist in Oklahoma? And now Brady and Eli and Reva are skipping school and Trent is acting weird.”

  The same thought had occurred to me earlier on the drive home from work. “But how are they connected?”

  “I don’t know, but they are. Maybe they’re planning some crazy road trip to meet this guy.”

  “Sounds like something Trent would do.” I picked at a stray thread poking out of my comforter.

  “And Brady,” Lan said. “We had a whole conversation the other day about whoever it was doing this, and he was really, I don’t know, protective of him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, he thinks this guy is a local hero. He doesn’t want to see him get in trouble or go to jail or anything. I think he’d protest the arrest if he could.”

  “So what’s going on with you and Brady now, anyway?” I asked, rolling over onto my back. “Are you a couple or what?”

  “I wouldn’t say that we’re a couple,” Lan said slowly. “I don’t know if there is a word for what we are.”

  I decided it was time to tell Lan everything I knew, starting with my conversation with Eli and how Trent would never date a girl one of his friends liked. I said that Brady was definitely into her, and that in my humble opinion as her best friend, I thought they would be good together. When I was done talking she was quiet for a moment.

  “You know where Brady took me to eat yesterday?” she asked.

  “The mall food court?”

  “No. He took me to a Vietnamese restaurant.”

  “Cleary has a Vietnamese restaurant?” I thought our tiny town was lucky to have a Denny’s.

  “No. We drove thirty miles to a little place Brady had looked up online. He wanted to make sure it would be something I liked.”

  “That’s really sweet.”

  “It was. We stayed for three hours until they kicked us out. I got home late and my dad was furious—until he saw all the food we brought him.”

  “Brady met your dad?” This was big. Lan had never introduced a guy to her dad.

  “He was so polite! Brady shook his hand and called him ‘sir’ and everything.”

  “Sounds like Brady’s quite a guy.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, he is.”

  I knew it would work out for Lan and Brady, but I was worried about Eli and me. When would I see him again? Was the goodbye kiss we had shared just the night before our last?

  “Kate? You still there?”

  “Yeah. I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on.”

  “You will,” Lan said. “I’m sure this whole thing will get sorted out by tomorrow, and this time next week we’ll be getting ready for a double date with Brady and Eli.” She sighed contentedly and I knew she was smiling.

  I hoped more than anything that Lan was right.

  But deep down I feared she wasn’t.

  11

  EDEN ALDER WALKED INTO THE cafeteria holding a warm stack of freshly printed newspapers. “The Valentine’s Day special edition,” she announced, dropping the stack onto our table. It made a soft thud and everyone immediately grabbed for a copy. People came over from other tables, too, and soon the stack was down to just a few folded issues.

  It had been three days since I had last seen Eli. Trent and Brady were back at school, but Eli and Reva were not. Lan had tried to get Brady to open up about what was going on, but he told her he couldn’t say anything. I guessed that it had something to do with the guy code they followed. All Brady said was that Eli’s absence had nothing to do with me and that everything would be fine, “eventually.”

  “Eventually?” I said when Lan relayed the message. “So this could go on for another week? Or a month? Longer?”

  I was completely frustrated. Lan tried to be sympathetic, but she was so happy with what was happening between her and Brady that it was hard for her to empathize with me.

  Soon it was Valentine’s Day, which arrived with the usual flurry of pink bears and delighted squeals. I sat at the lunch table, picking at a chicken Caesar salad, trying to ignore the heart-shaped boxes of chocolates being passed around. Brady had given Lan a pink-and-purple orchid in a white ceramic vase, and she carried it with her to every class. She even asked me to take a picture of it, which I did. It sat in the middle of the lunch table like a centerpiece.

  “Ooh, look what Brady wrote to me,” she said, pushing a newspaper in my direction. She pointed to one of the Heart Grams printed at the top of the page.

  “Lan—Someone thinks about you every day. Someone just doesn’t know what to say. Someone hopes you have a very happy Valentine’s Day.”

  I smiled. “That’s sweet.”

  I remembered how Brady had submitted the ad before Lan knew how he felt about her. I looked over at Trent’s lunch table. Brady was gazing at Lan, and she waved at him, giggling. I wondered if she would begin sitting at his table, but I doubted it. Guys had a code, but so did girls, and one of the rules was that you always sat next to your best friend at lunch if at all possible. Lan knew I couldn’t be near Reva, so she and Brady would be stuck staring across the cafeteria at one another, unless Brady decided to sit with us, which I didn’t think would happen.

  “This is just beautiful, Lan,” said Eden. She was pointing to the orchid, which prompted Lan to gush about Brady, which caused me to tune her out for a while and leaf through the Cleary Chronicle.

  Word of Tiffany’s party must have spread to local businesses, because there were a lot more ads than usual, including one for the tuxedo rental place and two for dress shops. “Get ready to celebrate and SAVE 30%!” read one.

  Eden had done her best to scatter the Heart Grams sent to Tiffany so they didn’t overwhelm the rest of the paper, but they still dominated most of the pages. “You’re SUPER!!!” they read, or “Tiff is SO AWESOME!!!” If Eden had charged by the exclamation points instead of the word count, she’d never have to worry about her budget again, I thought.

  I scanned the pages, noting how most of the messages were so bland and generic they could have been written to anyone. But a small ad at the bottom of the last page caught my eye.

  “Kate—Art lies, but I don’t. I will make everything right.”

  I sucked in my breath. “Eden, when was this ad placed?” I asked, sliding the paper across the table. She glanced at it and shrugged.

  “I’ve read three hundred of these things in the past seventy-two hours,” she said with a sigh. “Oh, wait. That one came in on Monday, just before the deadline. That’s why it’s at the bottom of the page. Austin had to squeeze it in.”

  “Who dropped it off?”

  “A freshman. I don’t think it was from him, though.” She rolled her eyes. “Probably running an errand for some senior.”

  I showed the message to Lan, who nodded. “See? It’s going to work out,” she said with an encouraging smile. I knew the message was from Eli, and it gave me a strange sense of calm. I looked over again at Trent’s table. Most of the guys seated there were looking over the newspaper, but some of them were just talking. It was a crowded table, but to me it looked empty without Eli.

  THE BANANA LATTES AT Something’s Brewing proved to be a huge hit. Bonnie and Lila were thrilled with the newest addition to the menu and kept a special log of each one sold. “Thirteen today,” Bonnie announced on Thursday. “I’m going to order a full case of banana syrup.”

  Lila found yellow T-shirts online with a big banana printed on the front, and she and Bonnie wore them every day. I could only smile and feign enthusiasm. W
ork just wasn’t the same. It felt more like—work. Not even Bonnie’s caramel coffee could cheer me up. She made me a banana latte, but I forgot about it and it sat on the counter all day, untouched.

  I wasn’t sure why people were flocking to the shop for such a strange drink, but maybe it was the appeal of something different. Coffee got boring after a while. The exotic lattes were a lot like the gorilla on the wall: unexpected and interesting.

  While Bonnie and Lila chatted about new marketing strategies—I overheard talk of hiring someone to stand outside in a gorilla costume and prayed they wouldn’t ask me to do it—I worked on my history essay for Mr. Gildea’s class. The original draft didn’t sound bad, but it wasn’t strong. It began with the quote, “Life is short, art endures,” and my main point was that the gorillas weren’t really art because they could not endure, especially since half the town wanted them removed.

  The three gorillas on the school wall were still there, though, even after repeated announcements that they would be sandblasted into oblivion. The official word was that Principal Carter needed to bring the work order before the school board, but I didn’t think that was the case. Maybe he actually liked it.

  I had examined the wall more closely after school, searching for Art Lies, and sure enough, the tag was there, near the foot of the third gorilla. I tried to think of a way to incorporate that two-word statement in my paper, but came up blank. In fact, I had no new or brilliant ideas for my essay. I decided to search the Web later for more art quotations, hoping there would be one that would inspire me.

  The phone rang and Bonnie picked it up. “Hello, dear! We’ve missed you!” I perked up. Bonnie was either talking to Eli or one of her grandkids. I listened but tried not to look like I was listening by pretending to read the inventory list.

  “Well, that’s good news. I could definitely use you on Saturday.”

  Eli never worked on Saturdays. Was he changing his schedule?

  “No, that’s not a problem. Lila will be here. Take all the time you need.”

  It sounded as though Eli was not coming back the following week. I stood up and walked over to Bonnie. If she had Eli on the phone, I was going to talk to him and that was that. Bonnie looked at me.

  “Is it Eli?” I whispered.

  She nodded and I held out my hand, motioning for the receiver.

  “One moment, dear, Kate wants to say hi.”

  “Eli?” I tried to keep my voice normal.

  “Hi.” He sounded surprised.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, struggling to keep the worry out of my voice.

  “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  “What’s going on?” My stomach felt like cement.

  “Um, I really can’t say right now.” I heard voices in the background, but I wasn’t sure if there were people with him or if it was just noise from a TV.

  “Can you e-mail me?”

  He sighed. “Not really.”

  My fear that something was seriously wrong was washed away by a sudden wave of frustration. “Not really? What does that mean?”

  “It’s not a good time,” he whispered.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I can’t talk now. I’ll explain later. I’m sorry.”

  “So am I, Eli.” I felt my voice break so I hung up the phone before he could say anything else. When I turned around, Bonnie and Lila were staring at me, their eyes wide.

  “Are you all right, dear?” Bonnie asked gently.

  I started to say something, but my words were choked out by my tears, which started unexpectedly and uncontrollably. I ran to the bathroom and tried to pull myself together. I cried for a while, then splashed cold water on my face. I looked in the mirror. My eyes were red and black mascara streaked my face. I was a mess, inside and out. I wiped at my face with a stiff paper towel, blew my nose and returned to work.

  Lila was taking an order at the window and Bonnie was pouring steaming milk into a cup, but when they finished, they both turned their attention to me.

  “Can we help you with anything?” Lila asked. Bonnie sat next to me and put one arm around my shoulder. I shook my head.

  “I think I have to figure out this one on my own.” I was touched that they seemed so genuinely concerned about me.

  “Well, I think you need a little break,” Bonnie said. “You’ve been working so hard lately. I want you to take the rest of your shift off, and don’t worry about coming in tomorrow, either. Lila and I can handle it.”

  I nodded. I wanted to get away from the cramped space of Something’s Brewing, at least for a little while.

  “When is Eli coming back to work?” I asked.

  Bonnie glanced at Lila. “Saturday will be his last day.”

  I didn’t understand. “His last day until when?”

  A car pulled up to the window and Lila turned away from us. I heard a man order two banana lattes.

  “Eli is taking some time off,” Bonnie said, her voice low. “He may not be coming back at all.”

  “What?” I felt the tears starting again, and I covered my face with my hands and tried to take deep breaths.

  Bonnie rubbed my shoulder. “It’s going to be fine, dear. This whole thing will blow over in no time.”

  I looked up. “What ‘whole thing’ will blow over?”

  Bonnie seemed alarmed. “Oh, dear,” she said. “I thought you already knew.”

  I felt a stab of panic. “Knew what? Bonnie, please tell me. I don’t know what’s going on and I haven’t seen Eli in days. Is he okay?”

  She patted my arm. “Yes, of course. He’s fine. It’s just…I don’t know if I’m supposed to say anything.”

  Lila had finished with her customer and turned back to us. “Bonnie, for heaven’s sake, look at the poor girl. Tell her.”

  I gave Lila a grateful smile. Bonnie cleared her throat. “Of course,” she said. “But, Kate, please don’t say anything to anyone.”

  I nodded.

  “Eli isn’t here,” she began. “He’s not in Cleary, I mean. He went with his parents to Oklahoma.”

  “Oklahoma? Why would he—”

  I suddenly knew why, but I still needed to hear it said out loud.

  Bonnie cleared her throat again and looked me in the eye.

  “He’s in Oklahoma because that’s where his brother was arrested.”

  12

  MY MOM WAS IN THE KITCHEN when I got home, walking from one end of the room to the other as she talked on the phone. She only paced like that when she was upset, but I could tell she was trying to keep her voice calm and controlled. I listened to her as I searched the fridge for a snack.

  “Yes, I have that on the specification sheet you gave me,” she said. “No, it’s not in front of me at the moment. It’s at work. This is my home number.”

  Mom sounded totally frustrated. I didn’t know who she was talking to, but I knew that tone of voice, and whoever was on the end of the line had about two minutes to hang up or get yelled at. She was balling her fist so tightly her knuckles were turning white. Not a good sign.

  There was nothing decent in the fridge, so I grabbed a box of crackers from the pantry and plopped down on the family room sofa. Mom came in a few minutes later and sat down next to me.

  “Who was that on the phone?” I asked, my mouth half-full of cracker.

  “A very rude customer,” she replied, resting her head against the back of the sofa. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and turned her head toward me. “You’re home early.”

  “Yeah. Bonnie had her neighbor there. She’s helping out and it wasn’t too busy, so they said I could leave early.”

  “How did you get home?”

  “Hitched a ride with some weirdo.”

  She bolted upright. “What?”

  “Kidding. Lan picked me up.”

  Mom settled back into the sofa and closed her eyes. “She just dropped you off and left?” Usually Lan stayed for dinner or hung out or something.

  “She
was on her way to see her new boyfriend.”

  “That’s nice,” Mom murmured. She was falling asleep, so I took my crackers and went to my room for a while.

  After the revelation that Eli’s older brother Ben was the tagger behind half a dozen gorilla murals in several different states, I actually began to calm down. Finally, I had some kind of answer. I remembered that when the school was tagged in January, Ben had been in town. I wasn’t sure how he had managed to create the other murals in Cleary, but it didn’t seem to matter. What mattered was that Eli was in another state with his parents, which meant he was probably nowhere near Reva, one of my main concerns. I didn’t know where Reva was, and I didn’t care—I just didn’t want her curled up next to my future boyfriend, tracing those razor-sharp nails of hers up and down his back.

  I tried to block the image from my mind and went to research my history paper. Were we supposed to define art or support our position on the gorillas? Both, I guessed. I perused pages on art quotations and famous artists and European museums, but nothing inspired me. It occurred to me that I was trying to find someone or something else to answer a question that I needed to work out on my own. Mr. Gildea was smart to have given us two weeks to complete the essay. I wished he would have given us two months.

  I gave up after an hour. Dad came home and we made dinner, careful not to wake Mom.

  “She’s had a lot on her plate lately, so to speak,” Dad explained as he unwrapped a frozen pizza.

  “I know the feeling,” I said.

  PARTIES SHOULD, BY DEFINITION, bring people together to celebrate. Tiffany’s birthday bash, now less than two weeks away, was having the opposite effect on the students of Cleary High School. In fact, it would not be much of a stretch to say that “the social event of the year” had incited a small war.

  The first battle began when Mallory discovered that one of the senior cheerleaders had purchased the exact same red silk dress as her.

  “Take it back,” she demanded. It was after lunch on Tuesday, and Mallory’s high-pitched screeching attracted a small crowd in the hallway.