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Authors: Jenny Han,Siobhan Vivian

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Girls & Women, #Social Issues, #General, #Death & Dying, #Emotions & Feelings, #Friendship

Fire With Fire (26 page)

BOOK: Fire With Fire
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When everybody else leaves an hour later, I turn down Ash’s
offer to help me clean up. I hustle her out the door, and then I run
upstairs and change into my cute pj’s, a pink cami with a bunny
print and matching shorts. I feel nervous butterflies as I put on
lotion and the tiniest dab of my Lillia perfume at the pulse of my
neck. I put my hair up and then I put it back down.

I’ve never been alone with a boy in my house before. Anything
could happen.
I don’t want it to go too much farther than kissing. Okay, I
kind
of do, but at the same time I don’t. I’m not ready yet. And
anyway, I’m still angry. And I’m going to give Reeve a piece of my
mind for sure. So I figure we’ll stay downstairs on the couch and
that will have to be it.
While I wait, I clean up the living room, throwing away plastic
cups, wiping down the tables, fluffing up the couch pillows. It’s
taking so long for Reeve to come back, I even get out the vacuum
cleaner. Another hour goes by and the kitchen’s clean too; the
house almost looks back to normal. I set out two pieces of pizza
on a nice plate, not a paper one, and I cover it in plastic wrap so I
can heat it up when he gets here.
That’s when I get the text. It says,
Stuck at Rennie’s. Not
gonna make it back tonight.
I read it twice to make sure I’m
getting it right. He’s ditching me. For her.

Rennie and I never had crushes on the same boys. She had a
rotation of boys that she liked, boys who were loud and brash and
you never knew if they were making fun of you or if they were
serious. She liked the ones who made her feel unsure. Because
Rennie was always, always sure.

As for me, the only Jar Island boy I ever had a crush on was
Patrick DeBrassio. And even then, it was the kind of crush you
have on your friend’s big brother, when you’re safe in knowing
that nothing will ever come of it. I was his little sister’s friend,
a baby.

So Rennie and I didn’t have crossover crushes, but there was
this one time it almost happened. It was that summer before ninth
grade. This was when Rennie and Kat and I were all still friends.
But this happened on a day when it was just Rennie and me.

There was a new boy scooping ice cream. He was there for
the summer, but he looked young like us; he couldn’t have been
older than fifteen. He had dirty-blond hair and a small mouth,
and he was wiry but you could tell he’d be tall and strong one
day. I’d seen him twice already, and both times I made Nadia go
in front of me so he could be the one to take my order. I liked his
dimples, and I liked how careful and precise he was with the ice
cream scooper. All of his scoops came out perfect.

That afternoon there was a lull. I was trying to decide between
strawberry basil ice cream or blueberry sorbet, and I was working
up the nerve to ask if I could try a sample of one, when Rennie
leaned on the freezer and asked him, “How old are you?”

Rennie had been doing that a lot this summer—talking to boys
we didn’t know, boys who were on the island for the week, the
month, the summer at most. Kat would join in sometimes, but it
always made me feel shy.

His head jerked up; he’d been wiping the counter. “Why?”
“Because I know for a fact that you have to be sixteen to work
here, and you don’t look sixteen.” She said it in her ballbustery
way, but with flirty eyes. The Rennie signature move. Rennie was
so confident, even then, that he’d want to talk to her, that he’d be
intrigued by her gutsiness and attitude.
“How old do you think I am?” he asked her.
“Fifteen, tops,” she said. “So how old are you?”
“Fifteen,” he admitted. “I got the job because my uncle owns
the place. I’m here for the rest of the summer. How old are you?”
“Fourteen,” Rennie said.
He finally looked over at me. I’d been staring into the glass
freezers, my arms wrapped around me, pretending not to listen.
“I’ve seen you here before,” he said. “You got blueberry last time,
right? With sprinkles?”
I nodded.
On the way home I said to Rennie, “I can’t believe he remembered me.”
She said, “Of course he remembered you. There are, like, no
Asians on the island.”
I looked at her to see if she was joking, but she was already
onto the next thing. It was true that there were hardly any other
Asian families on the island. But she’d never brought it up before.
My being different from her.
She hooked up with him later that week. It was on a day that
I was at the barn. She got mad because I told her I couldn’t go
to the beach because I had a horseback-riding lesson. I don’t
remember the boy’s name. I couldn’t even get mad about it,
because what would I have done with him? It’s not like I would
have made out with him on the docks like she did. I wasn’t
allowed to go on dates.
The thing I remember about it was how it made me feel when
she assumed the only reason he would remember me was my
Asianness. Like there was nothing else special or worth remembering about me. The idea prickled under my skin and stayed
there for a long time.
CHAP
TER F
OR
T
Y -NINE

Lil mentioned something about maybe hanging
out this weekend, but I was still surprised when she texted
today asking if Mary and I wanted to sleep over. That was
something totally new. I texted back sure, why not, and I dug
my sleeping bag out of the garage. I think the last time I went
to an actual sleepover was back in the day when I was friends
with Rennie.

Pat couldn’t drop me off. Our car was busted again. There
were a few guys in our garage. Most of them were drinking.
Ricky wasn’t. “Okay. Guess I’ll walk.”

I’m about halfway down the driveway when Ricky comes
after me.
“I actually need to gas up my bike, so I can give you a ride if
you want.”
I stare him down. “Thanks but no thanks.” I don’t need the
charity.
“Kat, wait.”
“What, Ricky?” I make sure I sound bored, uninterested.
“You’re ignoring me. Why? Because I wouldn’t kiss you?”
Damn. He doesn’t beat around the bush. Well, neither will
I. “What makes you think I wanted to kiss you? Don’t flatter
yourself.”
Ricky laughs. “Um, you pushed me against the wall and you
were about two seconds from eating my face off.”
I sneer. Who does this asshole think he is? “You must have
been dreaming.”
“Look. Do you want me to come clean?”
I stop walking and spin around. “Speak.”
“I do like you. I’ve liked you for a while.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Ricky makes a half turn to the garage. “It’s Pat, okay? I
tried to come correct, tell him how I felt about you, but he told
me to step off.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one to make those decisions?”
“He wasn’t saying it to be a dick. But you know, you’re
applying to that fancy college, and I don’t think he wants anything to distract you. Plus, he’s my friend. If he draws that line,
I ain’t going to cross it.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, what
would we have together? A few months, tops? And then you’d
leave? I don’t want to . . . you know, fall for you any worse than
I already have.”
Okay, seriously. That is sweet of Pat. But also, what the hell is
he doing, sticking his big nose into my affairs? He can’t bother
to pick his shit up around the house, but he needs to weigh in
on who I can and can’t hook up with?
In some ways it’s a blessing in disguise. ’Cause I like Ricky,
but I for sure haven’t fallen for him. Not the way he’s talking
about.
I give him a peck on the cheek. “Friends?”
He looks glum, but he offers up a weak smile. “Yeah. Friends.”

Mary’s waiting on the steps when Ricky drops me off.
“Hey,” I say. “Why are you outside?”
“Hey, yourself,” Mary says, cocking her eyebrow. “I don’t

think Lil’s home. I’ve been knocking forever, but she hasn’t
answered.”
“Huh.”
I ring the bell ad a few seconds later Lil throws the door
open and beams a big smile. “Yay! You guys are finally here!”
She’s wearing a big Harvard sweatshirt and leggings and thick
socks. No makeup. Her hair up in a towel. Guess she was in the
shower.
“Thanks for inviting us,” Mary chirps.
We come inside, and it takes me forever to unlace my combat
boots. Taking shoes off and on is annoying. The people in my
family will pass out in bed with their shoes on.
When I’ve finally got them off, Lillia leads us through the
foyer to the kitchen. I lift myself onto the marble kitchen island,
and Mary sits at the table.
“So how’d it go last night?” Mary asks.
Lillia tugs on the sleeves of her sweatshirt so her hands disappear inside. “Not awesome. You guys, there’s no way we’re
making it to New Year’s Eve. I . . . I think it’s over.”
I roll my eyes. “You’ve said that, like, ten times Lil!”
Lillia shakes her head defiantly. “It’s different this time. I
think Reeve was jerking me around me from the start.”
Mary folds her arms. “No way. He’s in love with you, Lil.
I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
“Mary, he’s been playing me the same way he played you!”
“All right, all right,” I say. “What happened? Did he not
show up to the party?”
“No, no. He came. And things were going well . . .”
“And?” Mary leans forward, looking tense as hell.
Lillia’s face turns pink. “See, we had this talk the other day.
About taking things public. Letting our friends know we’re
together. He was the one who was pushing for it!” She bites her
bottom lip. “So when I saw an opportunity last night, I went for
it. In front of everyone. Alex. Rennie. Everybody.”
Wow. I have to hand it to Lil. She really is all in. Girl went
the extra mile.
“But then he freaking denies me. He leaves me hanging in
front of everyone!” Lillia turns to Mary, her eyes wide. “All
night I thought about you, Mary. And that day on the ferry.
How humiliated you must have been.” She shakes her head. She
can’t even finish her thought.
“And he pulled the same exact shit with you,” I say.
“Pretty much!” Lillia bites her bottom lip. “And then, to add
insult to injury, Rennie pretended someone put something in
her drink so Reeve had to take her home. He said he was going
to come back, but then he didn’t.”
That for sure sounds like a Rennie move. And then I wonder—will Lil feel weird about Rennie coming over to my house
yesterday trying to make amends? I’m about to tell her about it,
but like a downplayed version minus the tears, when Mary says,
“Rennie’s a witch.”
Lillia looks like she still can’t believe it. “I don’t even
care about Rennie. Reeve’s a world-class manipulator. Every
single thing that comes out of his mouth is a lie.” She swallows. “Not that I haven’t been lying too, obviously. But if
this whole thing had been for real, I could’ve gotten hurt, you
know?” Then she lets out a long sigh. “The way I tried to
defend him to you guys that day in the bathroom. God, he
totally had me fooled!”
“Player got played,” I say, nodding. “Damn.”
To Mary, Lillia says, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t make this happen for you. I tried though. I really, really did.”
“Lillia, don’t talk like that,” Mary protests. “I’m so grateful
for everything you’ve done. It couldn’t have been easy for you
to pretend the way you did for so long.”
Lillia’s eyes flutter. “Whatever. It’s no skin off my back.”
And then she downs the rest of her drink.
Mary tugs on a lock of her hair. “I can’t believe it. Things
were going so well. The kiss in the parking lot . . .”
“I know,” Lillia says. “He’s even invited me to his family’s
open house tomorrow.”
“Wait, Reeve invited you to his open house?” This is the first
I’m hearing of this. “I used to go to that shit back in the day.”
“Yeah, well, clearly that’s not happening.” Leaning her
elbows up against the counter, Lillia asks, “What
is
an open
house anyway?”
“People in the neighborhood stop by and kick it throughout
the day.” I pick at my nails. “My mom and dad took me a couple
of times. You watch football, trim the tree, eat food.” Then I
look up and say, “Yo, it would seem to me that if Reeve’s inviting you to this, it’s a BFD. How many girls do you think he’s
ever introduced to his mom?”
“I’ve met his mom before,” Lillia says. “We’ve hung out at
his house plenty of times.”
I wave her off. “Yeah, but this would be in the context of,
‘Mom, Dad, Grandma, Uncle Chris, Aunt Linda, this is the girl
I’m seeing.’ I doubt he’s
ever
done that before.” Lil opens her
mouth to argue and I add dreamily, “Reeve’s mom is a bomb-ass
cook. . . . Every year she makes this sick chowder with scallops
and all kinds of seafood. Like shrimp, clams . . . Speaking of
which, do you have anything to eat? I’m starving.”
Lillia rummages around her fridge. “I’ve got leftover pizza,
Brie, hummus.”
“I’ll take some Brie,” I say. I never say no to cheese.
“What about you, Mary?” Lillia asks, setting a wedge of Brie
on a wooden cutting board. She goes to the cupboard and brings
back a box of water crackers and a jar of Nutella.
“I’m not hungry,” Mary says, keeping her head down. “I just
can’t believe it’s over.”
I look at Lillia. Because I’m not sure sure either. I would have
bet my life on the fact that Reeve liked her. Then again, I wasn’t
here last night.
Lillia rolls her eyes. “It is what it is. And I’m glad it’s over
with. Now I don’t ever have to be nice to Reeve Tabatsky again
for the rest of my life.” She picks up the remote. “Let’s watch a
movie, something girly.”
I groan and Lillia throws a pillow at my head.

We’re in Lillia’s room, listening to music and talking. It’s getting
late; it’s almost two in the morning.

Mary’s lying on the floor with her blond hair fanned out
around her. Abruptly she says, “Do you guys think Rennie and
Reeve hooked up last night?”

Lillia gasps, and I nearly cough up the beer I nabbed from the
fridge. “No way!” Lillia says.
“Why not?” Mary wants to know.
“Because,” Lillia sputters, “there’s no way. Hello, her mom
was home! And also . . . I don’t think Reeve would do that.”
“Psh, Reeve is a man whore,” I say. “He would totally do
that. He’s totally done that. Like, multiple times. Get it?” I bust
up laughing, but Mary and Lillia don’t laugh with me. Mary just
looks confused.
Delicately, Lillia dips her finger into the jar of Nutella. “Your
innocence is special. That’s why you have to be careful. Mary,
promise me that you won’t just hook up with some random guy
unless you know you can trust them.”
I roll my eyes and take a swig of my beer. “Chill out. Mary’s
still in the V club like you, so don’t you worry.”
Lillia goes still all of a sudden. Her face is white.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her. “What did I say?”
Lillia shakes her head. She looks like she’s going to cry.
“It’s okay,” Mary whispers. “You don’t have to say.”
Lil’s voice comes out strangled. She can’t even look at us.
“I’m not a virgin anymore. I—I lost it to some guy I didn’t even
know.”
I’m sort of in a state of shock. Lil? Hooking up with a rando?
“For real? You? I could never picture you hooking up with a
random dude. I thought you were saving it till marriage!”
Tears start rolling down her cheeks, and I feel like a dirtbag.
Mary gives me an admonishing look, and I shrug back helplessly. What’s wrong with me? Why do I always say the first
stupid shit that pops into my head?
“I was saving myself,” Lillia chokes out. “Maybe not till marriage, but at least for someone I loved. Someone who loved me.”
I reach out and give her leg a sympathetic squeeze. “My
first time sucked too, Lil. It was in this guy’s basement, and
his mom kept banging on the door because she wanted him to
mow the lawn.”
Lillia cries harder. Her shoulders shake, and her hair covers
her face.
I don’t know what to say to make her feel better. Hurriedly
I add, “You know what? I think that even if it’s with someone
you love, the first time still basically sucks.”
“But—I don’t even remember it,” Lillia weeps. “I was too
drunk. I didn’t even want to do it. I—I kept calling out Rennie’s
name for help, but she didn’t answer.”
Mary and I look at each other in horror. Oh my God. “Lil,
that was rape,” I say. “That wasn’t just a bad first time. That was
straight up-rape.”
She’s shaking her head. “No, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t, like,
push him off of me.”
“You didn’t push that effer off because you were too drunk!”
I yell.
The louder I yell, the quieter Lil gets. Her voice sounds feeble when she says, “He was drunk too. I don’t even know if he
heard me say no, that’s the thing.” She’s curled up, hugging her
knees to her chest, her hair falling around her face. “I doubt he
thinks it was rape. I don’t even know if I think it was rape. I
went upstairs with him; I kissed him back; I let him do all that
stuff. I didn’t scream for help or anything.”
“Lil, if you weren’t in your right mind to say yes, that means
it was rape, I’m telling you! That’s like the very definition of
rape!” My blood is boiling; I can literally feel it boiling. I jump
up and start pacing around. I’m going to take this guy down.
“What’s his name? Tell me his name, and I’ll go over there right
now with my boys.” Pat would come; so would Ricky. I can
get a whole posse together. I’ll get my old baseball bat out and
smash this guy’s whole house to smithereens—
“Kat, sit down,” Mary says, fixing her blue eyes on me.
I’m startled by how firm her voice sounds, so I sit my ass
down. “We can’t let him get away with it!”
“It’s not up to you,” Mary says. “We do what Lillia wants.”
I open my mouth to argue with her, but then Lillia speaks up.
Gratefully she says, “Thanks, Mary. I . . . I appreciate it. And
Kat, I appreciate you too. I want to forget the whole thing happened. It was a mistake, and it’s over. I don’t want to let it affect
me any more than it already has. I just . . . want it to be over.”
I nod, because I get that. Then I say, “Wait a minute, you
called out for Rennie? She was there too?”
“Yeah. It was this summer; we met these two UMass guys on
the beach . . . they had a party.” Lillia swallows. “We drank a lot,
I don’t really remember much of what happened after we went
upstairs with them. But Rennie was in the room with me; she
had sex with her guy too. We left before they woke up.”
“So was Rennie raped too, then?” I ask her.
“I don’t know. I don’t know if what happened was rape, or
if things just went too far, or what. Rennie and I never talked
about it again after that night.” She wipes her eyes with her
sweater sleeve. “I can’t even believe I’m telling you guys this.”
“We’re your friends,” Mary says, crawling closer to her.
“You can tell us anything.”
“But shouldn’t we . . .” I hesitate. “Call the cops or something? Report the guy?”
“There’s no evidence,” Lillia says. “I didn’t get a rape kit
done. I didn’t have any bruises on my body. It would be his
word against mine, and I don’t want to go through that. I don’t
want my parents to have to go through that. I don’t want them
to ever know that happened to me.” She lifts her head and meets
Mary’s eyes. “I want them to still see me the same way. You
know what I mean?”
Mary nods. “I know exactly what you mean.”
“Lil, maybe you should talk to someone,” I say, and I feel
like the world’s biggest hypocrite, because it’s not like I’m some
big believer in talking out my feelings. But this is serious. “Like,
I don’t know, a counselor. Or a therapist. Not Ms. Chirazo, but
a legit therapist, someone with a degree, someone who knows
their shit. Maybe they can help you.”
“Maybe,” Lil says, but I can’t tell if she means it. Then suddenly she says, “I will if you will, Mary.”
Yes! Lillia! Perfect, perfect timing. Girl does not miss a beat!
Mary reels back like Lillia slapped her. “I don’t need to talk
to anybody.”
Wetting her lips, Lillia says, “You’ve been through a lot.”
I quick jump in with, “And I know things aren’t so great at
home with your aunt right now . . . it could help to have another
person on your side.”
Shaking her head, Mary clenches her fists inside her sleeves.
“Can we talk about something else? Please?” She closes her
eyes, like she can’t even bear to look at us.
This time, thank God, I know to keep my mouth shut.
CHAP
TER FIF
T
Y

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