The Art of Lainey

by Paula Stokes

  Hey L—

  Wow. The summer has really flown by, hasn’t it? I’m heading to London for the weekend to drink warm beer with some of my friends before we all head home. We’ve got tickets to a soccer game, oh wait, make that a football match, and I couldn’t help but think of how much you would love it. I promise to take lots of pictures of whichever players the girls tell me are cute. I’d tell you who is playing but apparently there are a ton of football teams just in London and I can’t remember the names. Here’s hoping they have cheerleaders.

  See you soon,

  S

  I click my laptop closed and dig through the magazines on the floor next to my bed. Last month’s Soccer Illustrated has a feature on some of the London football clubs. I pore over the pictures, but none of the players are as cute as Caleb Waters. No one has his stats either.

  The faded red corner of The Art of War peeks out from beneath the glossy magazines. I finally quit carrying it around, but like I said, the whole freaking book seems to be tattooed across my brain. Well, maybe not the whole book, but at least my highlighted passages. Maybe I should bring it up to work and hide it amongst the flowing locks and poufy-shirted pirotica, where no one else is likely to find it and become an obsessive warrior person.

  Flopping down on my bed, I open to the very first page and start reading. I’m not sure why, if I’m just bored or if some little part of me is hoping I missed something, some secret little trick that will win back Micah. But the more I read, the more I realize there’s a lot more to it than the simple top ten list Bianca and I made.

  Certain passages stick out to me now, words that I skimmed past or interpreted differently the first time I read.

  Part III:

  SUPREME EXCELLENCE CONSISTS OF BREAKING THE ENEMY’S RESISTANCE WITHOUT FIGHTING . . .

  THEREFORE THE SKILLFUL LEADER SUBDUES THE ENEMY’S TROOPS WITHOUT ANY FIGHTING; HE CAPTURES THEIR CITIES WITHOUT LAYING SIEGE TO THEM . . .

  Two pages later:

  HE WILL WIN WHO KNOWS WHEN TO FIGHT AND WHEN NOT TO FIGHT.

  Part VIII:

  THERE ARE ROADS WHICH MUST NOT BE FOLLOWED, ARMIES WHICH MUST NOT BE ATTACKED . . .

  Part XII:

  NO RULER SHOULD PUT TROOPS INTO THE FIELD MERELY TO GRATIFY HIS OWN SPLEEN; NO GENERAL SHOULD FIGHT A BATTLE SIMPLY OUT OF PIQUE.

  Next page:

  A KINGDOM THAT HAS ONCE BEEN DESTROYED CAN NEVER COME AGAIN INTO BEING . . .

  It’s like I’m reading a whole different book. Maybe Bianca missed the point. Maybe we all did. As much as The Art of War looks to be about military strategy, I’m pretty sure what Sun Tzu had really been trying to say was that the best plan was the one that didn’t require marching into battle. That the true goal of strategy is victory without having to fight.

  But how does that apply to me? I’m fighting with almost everyone. Jason. Kendall.

  Micah.

  What do you do when you’re knee deep in battle and don’t want to fight anymore?

  Chapter 38

  “SUPREME EXCELLENCE CONSISTS IN BREAKING THE ENEMY’S RESISTANCE WITHOUT FIGHTING.”

  —SUN TZU, The Art of War

  You stop fighting. You fix things. . .or try anyway.

  I’m going to start with Kendall because as scary as she is, she’s way less scary than Micah. She shouldn’t have gone all rabid pit bull on him, but she did it to defend my honor. Besides, I kind of miss her, and if we’re going to be soccer cocaptains together this year we need to at least be civil.

  She shocks me by apologizing as soon as she answers. “I shouldn’t have caused a scene,” she says, so loud that I have to hold my phone away from my ear. “I should have let it go.”

  “Where are you?” I ask. “Is this a bad time?”

  “I’m at Jay’s. He’s got people over.” I hear music and muffled voices in the background. “He says to tell you he misses you.”

  “That’s sweet. Tell him I said hi. Look, I called to apologize too. I know you were only trying to help. I should have just admitted I liked Micah.”

  “Right.” Kendall seizes on this information like she’s just secured an airtight alibi for a horrible crime. “Why would you lie to me?” she asks. “None of that would have happened if you had told me the truth.”

  “Come on, K. You made it seem as if liking him would be social suicide.”

  “It probably would be,” she says. “But you still didn’t have to lie to me about it. I thought best friends told each other everything.”

  Which is total bullshit because Kendall tells me almost nothing. She didn’t even tell me she was back in town. Besides, I thought best friends supported each other.

  “I knew if I told you that you’d harass me and try to fix me up with other guys or your brother until I gave up on him,” I say.

  “Okay, you’re right,” she admits. “I would have tried to make you forget him. I mean, get real, Lainey. Dating is hard enough. Dating someone like that—it’d be überhard, like interracial dating used to be. All those questions from kids at school, the mean looks from people who assume you’re acting out some prison role-playing fantasy. It’d be like that fairy tale with the princess who falls in love with the monster.”

  There’s no reasoning with Kendall, but I give it one last try. “Uh, just because Micah isn’t a pretty-boy soccer star doesn’t make him a monster,” I say. “And that fairy tale had a happy ending, in case you forgot.”

  “Let’s stop arguing about this,” she says brightly. “Mohawk Boy will get over it eventually, or not. But who really cares? There are plenty of hotter guys without criminal records, and you shouldn’t sell yourself short. How about we focus on the now, as in where I’m going to take you to cheer you up tomorrow night.”

  Classic Kendall move—if you can’t beat them, distract them with something shiny.

  “Which means what, exactly?” I ask.

  “Epic party. A friend of a friend of a girl I met on So You Think You Can Model goes to Washington University. She’s having a big welcome-back-to-campus thing. College boys, Lainey. You’ll forget all about your slew of questionable choices this summer.”

  “The only questionable thing I did was make out with your brother after he dumped me,” I say. “And isn’t it a little early for the Wash U kids to be coming back to campus?”

  “I think she plays tennis or something so she has to be back early for practice,” Kendall says. “Even better. A whole party full of jocks. Say you’ll go with me. I don’t want to go alone.”

  “I guess,” I say. But inside I’m kind of dreading it.

  I’m at work when Kendall texts me the next day:

  You ready?

  Me: I dunno K. Not sure if I’m up for it.

  Her: Trust me. Tonight will be life changing. You get off at 7?

  Me: Yeah.

  Her: My jeep is in the shop. Apparently I trashed the transmission. If Jay drops me at Denali, can we take your car?

  Me: Okay.

  I’m too tired to even argue. Maybe she’s right and I do need to get out. Maybe I need anything that will get my mind off Micah. Thankfully he left early today, so I only had to endure a couple hours of him treating me like a stranger.

  Kendall sashays her way through the front doors right at seven. She’s dressed in a skimpy sundress short enough to almost be illegal and platform sandals tall enough to definitely be impractical. The effect makes me think of “sexy circus performer.” I watch as she heads across the front of the dining room toward the corner booth.

  She pulls her phone out of her purse and starts texting away while she waits for me. There are a couple of people in line. As I ring them up and help Ebony make their drinks, I see Kendall look repeatedly up at the clock on the wall and then back down at her phone.

  By the time I clear the line, clock out, and flop down across from her in the booth she looks positively irritated. “Took you long enough,” she says. “I wanted to find someplace to get food before the party.”
/>   “You mean like a coffee shop?” I say, looking around.

  “No. Good food.”

  Since Kendall’s daily caloric intake doesn’t usually break triple digits, I have no idea what “good food” involves. I look down at my baggy capris and Denali T-shirt. “You have to at least let me run home and change.”

  “Tell me you didn’t bring different clothes with you.” Kendall inhales so deeply I can see her impossibly flat stomach puff outward ever so slightly. But before she can unleash her monster sigh, the coconut wind chimes do their clunking thing and Micah’s little sister, Trinity, stumbles into the shop.

  Her bangs are matted to her face with sweat and she’s got a smudge of dirt across her left cheekbone. Her cargo pants are ripped up the left side of her leg—not the kind of cool, trendy rip that kids spend hours with a razor to achieve. The frantic “half my butt is hanging out” rip a girl might get if she was attacked by a mountain lion.

  I jump up from the booth and hurry over to her. “Trinity. Are you okay?”

  “Is my brother here?” she asks, slightly out of breath.

  “He left around three,” I say. There’s a golf ball–sized welt growing out of her forehead and it looks like she’s got blood between her front teeth. “What happened?”

  “I’m fine.” Trinity peers up at the clock on the wall. “Did Micah mention where he was going?”

  I shake my head.

  She glances down at her phone. It’s got a big spiderwebby crack across the screen but the display is still functional. “He isn’t answering his cell. Hey, if he comes back by here, will you tell him to call me?”

  “Yeah. Of course. I—”

  She spins on her heel and heads back out into the heat without waiting for me to finish.

  Kendall slides out of the corner booth and clops across the wooden floor in her sandals. “All ready?” she asks brightly. “We can zoom by your house and grab a dress for you. You can change in—”

  “Hang on a minute.” I follow Trinity outside. She’s kneeling by a mangled bicycle that’s lying on the sidewalk. The front wheel is folded in a ninety-degree angle. She lifts the bike and tries to roll it next to her but it won’t roll. She drags it a few feet and then gives up. Sighing, she drops the hunk of crumpled metal and starts to walk off in the direction of her apartment building.

  “Trin. Wait,” I say.

  She turns around. Looks nervous. “Yeah?”

  “Did you get hit by a car or something?” I ask, my voice incredulous. Her bike looks like it got hit by several cars. And then maybe a bus.

  “It just clipped me. No big deal.” She turns around and keeps walking.

  I catch up with her in a few strides. It doesn’t take much effort on my part since she’s way shorter than me and limping. I grab her gently by the shoulder. “Dude, you need to go to the hospital. Can I call your mom for you?”

  Trinity sighs. I can see her fighting back tears. “I tried her cell too. No answer. But dinner rush is still going on. She won’t have time to check her phone until at least nine.”

  “Well then, let me take you.” I can’t even believe the girl got hit by a car and she’s trying to brush it off like it’s no big deal.

  “I don’t want to be a burden. Besides, I don’t think the doctors can do anything without Micah or my mom there.”

  “Maybe not,” I say, “but at least you’d someplace safe in case you pass out.” I point at the lump on her forehead. It’s puffed out to the size of an egg. “You could have some kind of brain injury.”

  “I’m okay. It doesn’t even really hurt that much.”

  “Probably because you’re in shock.” I lean in close to check Trinity’s pupils. It’s bad if they’re different sizes, I think. Hers look normal. A fist clenches in my stomach. “Did the guy stop at least? Where did this happen?”

  “A couple of blocks from here.” She looks down at the hole in her pants, adjusting the seam to cover her underwear. “He didn’t stop, but it was my fault. I didn’t wait for the light.”

  “Bullshit,” I say. “That’s still a crime.”

  Kendall bursts through Denali’s front door. She gestures wildly toward the parking lot. “Come on. Lose the street urchin. We’ve got places to be.”

  I suck in a sharp breath. “Ohmygod, Kendall. Rude much? She got hit by a freaking car.”

  “So call an ambulance, already,” Kendall snaps.

  “Forget her,” I say, turning back to Trinity. “You got two choices. Either you let me drive you to the ER or I call 911.”

  Trinity appears to consider the offer, but then she shakes her head. “My mom can’t afford an ER bill.”

  “It’s fine,” I say. “Kids are covered under state insurance when they’re your age.”

  “Yeah, but you still have to pay something, right?”

  “I’m not sure, but if so it’s a lot less. Look, your head might be broken, Trinity. This isn’t optional. Some things don’t heal on their own.”

  She looks nervously over her shoulder at Kendall. Just the act of turning her neck makes her wince. “What about her?”

  “Her head is definitely broken,” I say. “Wait here for a second.”

  I backtrack to where Kendall is leaning against the front window of Denali. “We have to take her to the ER.”

  “Seriously?” Kendall sighs. I know she wants to refuse but she can’t because she doesn’t have a car and there’s no guarantee Jason will come get her. If there’s one thing that Kendall Chase does not do, it’s take public transportation. “Today is the day you need to play hero? Why exactly can’t you just call 911?”

  Maybe she’s right. Maybe I should call Trinity an ambulance. But then she’d have to go to the hospital all alone. No one deserves that. “Just come with us, okay? I’ll wait with her to see a doctor and you can take the Civic to the party. I’ll take the MetroLink down to the Forest Park station and meet up with you later.”

  “Fine,” Kendall lifts her chin. “But I can’t believe you’re bailing on me for some middle school girl.” She gives Trinity a glare that threatens to melt her and then looks back at me. “Who is she?”

  “It’s Micah’s sister,” I say. “And she’s a freshman.”

  “Oh. Now I get it.” Kendall turns her scalding eyes on me. “You’re still strategizing. Only now you’re after Mohawk Boy instead of Jason.”

  “No, Kendall. Not everything I do has an evil agenda, okay? She’s a nice kid and she’s scared and she shouldn’t have to be alone in the hospital,” I say. “That’s all there is to it.”

  The three of us head to the All Saints ER. I make Kendall triple-promise to be careful with Steve’s car and reluctantly hand her the keys. Trinity and I head inside. Turns out Trin is right and the nurses and doctors can’t officially treat her without parental consent, unless her condition changes and becomes a life-threatening emergency. They tell her not to eat anything, and to let one of the desk girls know if she’s able to get her mom on the phone. We try her mom’s cell phone again and also leave a message at the diner. Then we try to get comfortable in the waiting room. It’s not happening. The thermostat is set somewhere between refrigerator and ice rink, and all of the plushy chairs are taken.

  We sit next to each other on a hard bench with no back. Behind us, a pair of angelfish swim lazily around in a cylindrical aquarium. “How are you going to get to your party?” Trinity’s pale face is a mess of bruises and worry lines. She traces the path of a fish with one trembling index finger.

  “I can take the train,” I say. “I’m not worried about it. I’m worried about you. I’ll hang out until your mom or brother shows up.”

  She shakes her head. I notice her colored streaks are gone. I wonder if she got tired of them or if they got ripped out during her accident. “I’d feel better knowing I didn’t mess up your plans.” She looks down at the floor. “I don’t want the most popular girl in school to hate me before I even set foot in Hazelton High.”

  I wave my ha
nd dismissively. “Kendall? Her bark is worse than her bite.” Privately I’m thinking the probability of Kendall even remembering what Trinity looks like over a month from now when school starts is less than zero.

  “Still. The nurses are keeping an eye on me. You can go.”

  “Are you trying to get rid of me?” I make a pretend-outraged face. “Don’t make me tell your brother on you.”

  Just the thought of Micah makes Trinity smile. “What happened to you guys anyway?” she asks.

  My hair falls forward into my face as I look down at my lap. “It’s a long story.”

  “Yeah, Micah told me you were never technically dating. But now it seems like you guys aren’t even friends.” Trinity picks at a loose thread on her pants. “He misses you, you know?”

  I swallow back a lump in my throat. “Highly unlikely.”

  “You miss him too, don’t you? I keep telling him that you do.”

  “Why would you even think that?” I raise my head. “I haven’t seen you since the first time Micah and I hung out.”

  “Because I know how awesome my brother is. You’d have to be stupid not to miss him.” She smiles her toothy smile at me. “You don’t seem stupid. You should call him.”

  I turn away, toward the aquarium. It’s my turn to trace the angelfish’s path with my finger. “It’s not that simple,” I whisper. “Maybe everything is already decided. Why fight the natural order of things?” The fish ducks inside a plastic grotto. A cluster of bubbles shoots from the filter.

  “I guess because some things are worth it.”

  I pull my eyes away from the aquarium, back to Trinity. Her cheek is turning purple and the lump on her forehead seems to have grown even bigger, but a faint smile clings to her lips. She’s still thinking of her brother. She reaches out and touches my teal streak. “I can’t believe you still have this.”

  “I know, right? It’s getting a little raggedy. I’m going to need you to give me a new one before school starts.”