The Complete Burn for Burn Trilogy: Burn for Burn; Fire With Fire; Ashes to Ashes (17 page)

We had a fire drill last week. This doesn’t feel like a drill. The teachers didn’t seem to know anything about it. I wonder . . . could this be Kat’s doing? She said she’d get those posters up, but even for her this is gutsy.

“Maybe,” I say as the volunteer fire truck comes barreling into the parking lot. Some of the freshmen start clapping and chanting “Let it burn! Let it burn!”

So juvenile.

We’re in the parking lot for another half hour while the firemen check out the building. I can’t feel my toes. The firemen finally come out and give the all clear, and the teachers start ushering us back inside.

I’m walking down the senior hallway when I see them. Our posters, with Alex’s smiling face and his poem right next to it—on lockers, on walls. They’re
everywhere
.

Alex has seen them too. He’s stopped short in front of a whole cluster of them on a set of lockers. Slowly he says, “What the . . .”

Reeve tears a sheet down and starts reading it out loud, doubling
over with laughter.
“Winter stars fall so I keep wishing. . . . I love the way you look in sweaters. Can we Eskimo kiss all night long? ’Cause your red ribbon has me tied up in knots!”

That doesn’t sound like the poem Kat was reading in the car. “The Longest Hallway” one.

I take down a sheet and read it over.

Wait.

Red ribbon?

*    *    *

It was Christmastime, my freshman year.
My whole family was at Alex Lind’s house for their annual holiday party. Since we’d moved to the island full-time, Alex’s mom and my mom had gotten to be pretty good friends. They went to lunch together, shopping off island, that kind of thing.

The parents were downstairs drinking and talking and mingling by the fireplace. Elvis Presley was playing on the stereo, and us kids could hear it upstairs in Alex’s room. This was before he moved into the pool house. He used to have the whole third floor to himself. It was basically one big rec room, with beanbag chairs and a foosball table and a dartboard. For the party Alex’s mom had set up a table of kid food, things like chicken fingers and popcorn shrimp and mini pizzas, probably
so we wouldn’t come downstairs and bother them.

The little kids, my sister included, were fighting over who got to play darts next. Nadia nearly got into a scuffle with an eight-year-old boy, a cousin of Alex’s, I think, and I had to break it up. Since Alex and I were the oldest, we were in charge. I hadn’t even wanted to come, since Rennie wasn’t going to be there, but my mom had insisted we go as a family.

Alex put in a DVD for the kids, and they quieted down for the most part. I was sitting at Alex’s desk, doing stuff on his computer and eating a Christmas cookie. It was a reindeer with a Red Hot candy for a nose. Alex was lying in his hammock a few feet away, strumming on a guitar. He wasn’t too bad at it. Out of nowhere he said, “Hey, cool headband.”

I looked up, startled. “Oh, thanks,” I said, touching the crown of my head. “It’s actually a ribbon.” My mom had wanted me to wear a dress, but I would have felt dumb showing up at Alex Lind’s house dressed up. So I wore a kelly green sweater and a tartan skirt, plus the red ribbon, for a festive touch.

“Cool,” he said, looking back down at his guitar. “You look nice in red. Like, uh, that shirt you wear sometimes.”

“What shirt?”

“I don’t remember.” His freckly face turned the same color
as his hair. He kept strumming the guitar. “I think you had it on last Monday or something?”

The only red I wore on Monday was during gym. “That was my PE uniform from my old school,” I told Alex.

“Nice,” he said. Now his face was as red as my ribbon. “Yeah, we don’t wear uniforms here.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said.

It was awkward for another second or two. Then Alex got up and went to the bathroom and I went back to the computer.

*    *    *

Oh my God.

That Christmas party was freshman year. He remembered? All this time? That can’t be.

I look at him, and he’s looking at me. He drops his eyes right away. So it
is
about me.

Next to me Ashlin covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my gosh,” she says, giggling. “I had no idea Alex was a poet!”

I feel dizzy.

“Who did this?” Alex demands. He’s all flushed; he’s definitely upset.

Reeve is practically falling on the ground, he’s laughing so hard. “Bro, this is that song you’ve been working on, isn’t it?
Come on. Don’t be ashamed. This is good stuff. You’ve got talent.”

“Shut up, Reeve.” We watch as Alex starts taking down the posters. I wonder how Kat managed to get them up so high.

“Alex, man, can we Eskimo kiss all night long?” Reeve asks, sputtering into laughter again and throwing an arm around him.

Alex shoves him away. “Did you do this?”

Shaking his head, Reeve says, “No way! I swear on your red ribbon!”

Alex tears the rest of the posters down and stalks off in a huff, throwing them into the garbage on the way.

Reeve starts singing the poem, and everyone’s laughing. I walk up to him and snatch the poster out of his hand. “You’re such a jerk,” I say loudly. To Ashlin I say, “Let’s go back to class.”

Ashlin and I are walking away as Reeve calls out to me, “You need to work on your sense of humor, Cho.”

I don’t turn around. I just keep walking. Ashlin’s talking about Alex’s poem or song or whatever it is, but I’m barely even paying attention. I can’t stop thinking about the look on Alex’s face when our eyes met. Does he really like me that much? But if that’s true, what is he doing with my sister? It just doesn’t make sense.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MARY

I
FEEL LIKE
I’
M A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT GIRL
. W
HEN
I see Reeve in the hallway, I don’t go out of my way to avoid him. I just walk right by with my head held high, because I don’t care if he notices me or not. Even if he did suddenly recognize me the way I wanted him to that first day of school, make a big deal over how different I look now, it wouldn’t make any difference. Even if he apologized, he’s still going to get his. The wheels are already in motion.

I’ve held myself back for way too long. I’m not going to do
that anymore. So when I walk down the hallway, I make sure to smile at the people I don’t know. In bio class, when James Turnshek turns the Bunsen burner up too high and makes the beaker shatter, I laugh along with everyone else. I don’t even care that we’ll have to start over on the lab.

Near the end of the day, I pass Lillia in the hallway. I’m on my way to math, and she’s at the water fountain, holding her long black hair back with one hand, leaning into the stream of water. I would keep walking, but she does something when she sees me looking at her. She makes her eyes go real big, double the size they usually are, and jerks her head just slightly, like she wants me to walk over.

I try not to be too obvious when I stop and double back. Hugging my books to my chest, I meander over and pretend to look at some student council announcement taped up to the wall.

As soon as I’m next to her, Lillia lets go of her hair. It falls and covers her face, and a few of the ends get wet in the basin of the water fountain. I guess she does it so no one can see her talking to me. She whispers, “Meet after school at the pool, okay, Mary?” in a voice so quiet, I have to strain to hear it.

I nod, and then we head off in opposite directions.

*    *    *

The swimming pool is in a separate building, and right now it’s closed for repairs. They’re doing work on it for the winter, when swim season begins. The door is wedged open, so I slip inside.

I’m the last one here. Lillia and Kat are sitting together on top of the lifeguard chair. They’re both leaning in to look at something on Kat’s cell phone. Lillia’s twirling a lollipop around in her mouth. Kat’s picking the shredded parts of her jeans.

“Hey,” I say. “What are you guys looking at?”

Lillia jumps down from the perch, and her pleated skirt lifts up just the littlest bit. She shifts the lollipop so the white stick juts out of the corner of her mouth. “Kat took a video of some people singing Alex’s song in the cafeteria today.”

Kat jumps down next, and her boots make a slapping sound on the concrete deck. She holds her phone up for me to look. “These kids were doing it like a rap. But I heard other people singing it like a jazzy number, heavy metal style—”

“Jeez,” I say. “Maybe Alex is a good songwriter? I mean, it’s in everyone’s head.”

Kat rocks back with laughter that fills the entire building,
bounces off every wall, every tile. “That shit is catchy, I give him that much.” And then she gets a cigarette out from her pocket and lights it up.

I’m worried that Kat shouldn’t be smoking in here. But I’m not about to tell her to put it out. So instead I ask, “Do you think anyone suspects we’re behind it?”

Kat rolls her eyes. “No one suspects us. And no one even knows who you are.”

I guess I look hurt, which I am, but then Lillia says, “Yup. That’s why you’re our secret weapon!”

I joke, “Yeah, I’m silent but deadly.”

“Like a fart!” Kat cracks up.

I laugh too, and then I give her the middle finger. I think it might be the first time I’ve ever done that.

Kat grins. “Aww, look. Sweet little Mary’s turning into a hell-raiser.”

“Am not!” I squeal, louder than I mean to, and I cup my hand over my mouth.

“I’m only kidding,” Kat says. “But seriously. We’re scary good at this.”

“Better than good,” Lillia corrects, and pulls her lollipop out. The inside of her mouth is a deep cherry red. “We’re amazing.”
She looks down at her cell phone and starts tapping the screen. Without looking up she says, “I mean, we could even quit now, if we wanted.”

Both Kat and I look at her.

“What?”

Lillia slips her phone into her purse. “I’m just saying . . . we could quit while we’re ahead, and just get started on Rennie or Reeve.” Her voice is a bit quieter than before.

“No way, dude!” Kat says. “Tomorrow’s going to be so epic. First football game of the season. Everyone watching our plan go down. This is going to be our best work yet. I bet I won’t sleep a wink tonight. It’s like freaking Christmas Eve.”

Kat isn’t taking Lillia seriously, I can tell. She’s just grinning, thinking about tomorrow. But I see the look in Lillia’s eyes. Something’s different.

“What’s changed?” I ask her.

She bites her lip. “I don’t know. Nothing.”

“The football game is tomorrow,” I say. “We’ve already done so much work.”

Impatiently Kat says, “Lil, quit with the guilty act.”

“I thought this was my revenge,” she says, sliding her hands into her pockets. “Shouldn’t that mean I get to say when it’s over?”

“Why would you want to chicken out now?” Kat demands. “Did you tell someone? Did you say something to Rennie?”

“No! God, it’s not like that. Look, I’m pretty sure that whatever went down between my sister and Alex is over. So, Kat, feel free to start up with Alex again. Whatever keeps him from sniffing around my sister is fine by me.”

“Don’t you bring me into this!” Kat’s pacing. “This is your thing, not mine.”

“Oh, please. Don’t act like you aren’t benefiting from it. You like Alex, he hooked up with my sister, and now he’s back on the market. Congrats.”

Kat glares at Lillia. “Get it straight, Lil. Your baby sister had
my
sloppy seconds.”

I step in between them. “Um, what are you two talking about?” Alex and Kat? They were a thing? “Why didn’t either of you tell me!” I start shaking my head. “This is seriously screwed up. We can’t keep secrets from each other!”

“You’re right, Mary.” Lillia spins toward Kat so hard, her hair whips from one shoulder to the other. “Kat, what were you and Alex, exactly? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Texting ‘I love you’ every night? Or just a one-night mistake.”

Kat’s eyes flash with fire. But before she can say anything
back, the door to the pool building closes with a sickening thud.

A deep voice calls out, “Hello? Who’s in here?”

I gasp. So does Lillia.

Kat sinks down and grinds her cigarette out on the floor. She lifts her chin and nudges it toward a door. The three of us run over, and she opens it, revealing a small electrical closet. We squeeze inside together, and then Kat closes the door except for a crack, so we can see out.

“Who is that?” Lillia hisses, but Kat holds up a finger. I think we all stop breathing.

Through the wedge of light we watch one of the construction workers look around. He’s a big guy, with dirty jeans, work boots, a yellow hard hat, and a ring of tinkling keys. He calls out “Yo! Who’s in here?” again. And then he starts sniffing the air.

The cigarette smoke.

Next to me Kat closes her eyes.