The Complete Burn for Burn Trilogy: Burn for Burn; Fire With Fire; Ashes to Ashes (24 page)

I roll my eyes. “Whiskey,” I say.

His face lights up. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Wait. Can we do the deal here? I should get back to Pat. I don’t want him to freak out.”

“Come on my rounds with me tonight, and I won’t tell your brother you’re buying E off me and trying to use him for cover.” He sighs and looks around. “This island is so damn boring. I don’t know how people live here. Come on. Keep me company. You’re my friend’s baby sister, so I ain’t gonna try nothing. Hey, I’ll even knock five bucks off what I’m charging you. Come on, Kitty Kat. What else are you doing tonight?”

I’m not doing anything, but that’s beside the point. I just want my ecstasy and to go the hell home, not keep Kevin company on his drug runs. But I’ll take one for the team. For Mary. “All right, deal.”

I wait while Kevin struts into the kitchen. He comes out a few minutes later with two drinks from the bar. A beer for him and a whiskey for me. The glass is small, but the brown liquid is poured to the very top. I doubt it’s top shelf. Probably well booze, the cheap stuff.

“I like it with ice,” I say, just to be a snot. As I take the glass, some of the whiskey drips over the edge and onto my fingers. I lick them clean.

Kevin grins out the side of his mouth. “You are a sassy little Kitty Kat, aren’t you?”

Flirting with Kevin makes me want to barf, but I know that’s what I have to do to get what I want. And whatever. I’m good at it. I hiss and pretend to swipe at his face with my claw.

I expect Kevin to sit down with his beer. Instead he starts walking away from the restaurant. He tucks his beer up the sleeve of his jean jacket. “Next stop, the Jar Island Retirement Home.” I guess I make a face, because he says, “I’ve got a bunch of glaucoma patients in there who need the weed.”

I guess that’s sort of a mitzvah or whatever. Helping sick people smoke up. Noble, almost.

“All right,” I say. I take a sip of my whiskey and pick up the pace. “We don’t want to keep the grammys and grampys waiting.”

*    *    *

I spend two hours with Kevin and then walk him back to the ferry. The island’s dead, and I don’t have anything to do, so I decide to drive over to Middlebury and stop by Mary’s house. She keeps creeping into my mind, after that story she told us. Poor thing. It’s honestly a miracle that she doesn’t have PTSD or some shit.

I park outside her house and walk up the front steps. There’s a soft light on in the living room and the flashing light of a television. I press the doorbell and wait.

The volume goes down, but nobody comes to the door. I press it again, then lean over the railing and peek in the windows.

The house doesn’t look lived in, more like it got hastily closed up at the end of summer. There’s a telescope collapsed and lying on the floor. A chair with a sheet draped over it. Stacks of unopened mail sorted into teetering piles, some newspapers
and catalogs. And about ten big black trash bags bulging with God knows what.

And then Mary’s aunt darts past the window, like she’s trying to hide. I get a prickly feeling in the small of my back as I shrink away from the glass. I lean over the railing and look up at Mary’s bedroom. A light is on, but it immediately clicks off.

I practically sprint down the stairs and back to my car.

CHAPTER THIRTY

LILLIA

O
N
M
ONDAY MORNING
M
R
. P
EABODY PASSES OUT THE
homecoming ballots during homeroom.

No real surprises. There’s Rennie, who is the obvious shoo-in. Even if she wasn’t campaigning so hard, she’d still have it. She’s the queen of Jar High, just like she always wanted. Then there’s my name. Anybody who would vote for me will vote for Rennie. Even my own sister. There’s Melanie Renfro, who is known to be slutty, so she’ll probably get some votes from random guys. Carrie Pierce, who is way into theater and basically only got
nominated because people wanted an “alternative” homecoming queen. Last there is Ashlin. Ashlin who wants this almost as bad as Rennie, but she could never say so, at least not out loud. She wouldn’t dare. Ashlin will get a good number of votes, because she’s nice to everyone—to their face. She’s never beaten Rennie at anything. Until now. I’m actually happy for her, that she’ll get to beat her this one time.

I’m about to check off Rennie’s name, when, next to me, Rennie raises her hand.

“Yes, Ms. Holtz?” Mr. Peabody says. He has his arms crossed; he looks amused already. Teachers love Rennie. They think she’s a spitfire, a ball of energy.

“Can I just say one thing, Mr. Peabody?” She doesn’t wait for him to say yes. She swivels around in her seat to face the rest of the class. “Before everybody votes, I just want to remind you guys of something. Homecoming queen isn’t a beauty contest, and it’s not about popularity. It’s about dedication, and school spirit, and making this a better place to go to school.”

As if planning parties not everyone is invited to makes this school a better place. Ugh. She’s so transparent, I can’t believe everyone else doesn’t see through her.

Rennie lowers her eyelashes, fake-humbly. “So please
consider that when you vote, you guys.” As soon as she’s done with her speech, Rennie whispers to me, “This is so mine.”

“Nobody deserves it more than you,” I whisper back, showing her my ballot with her name checked off.

She reaches over and squeezes my knee. “You’re the best, Lil.”

*    *    *

My knee socks keep falling down. I wanted to wear sweats or leggings, but Rennie kept saying how knee socks are part of the powder-puff tradition. I was like, can’t we just dress up for the actual game? This is just practice. But no.

Like always, powder-puff is the day before the homecoming game. That’s when the senior girls play flag football, and the senior boys dress up like cheerleaders.

As soon as it came out that Reeve was coaching one team and Alex was coaching the other, Rennie volunteered to be captain on Reeve’s team. Ashlin’s the other captain and she won the coin toss, and I was praying that she would pick me, which she did. Obviously, I hate Alex, but Reeve is disgusting. I used to think his ego, his cockiness was a put on. No one could be
that
into himself. But now I know that it’s all true. I wonder if he’s thought about Mary once since that day. If he even realizes the
hell he put her through. I doubt it. I doubt he’d even remember her name. Honestly, I think death would be going too easy on that monster.

Across the field Reeve blows his whistle. I watch him throw his head back and scream, “Suicides! I want suicides, men!” He’s loving this. Obviously, their team is going to win, since Reeve is Mr. Football, and both he and Rennie are super-competitive.

Alex doesn’t even have a whistle. Our team is basically just throwing footballs at each other, dropping them more often than we catch them. Ashlin yelps every time the ball comes near her face, and I can’t even get my whole hand around the thing. I don’t get why we can’t use a Nerf. People could get hurt.

“Girls!” Alex says, clapping his hands. “Run a few laps to get warmed up, okay? Then we’ll practice some plays.”

Some of the girls obey, but I ignore him and toss the ball to Ashlin again. It lands nowhere near her, and she goes running for it. “Sorry!” I call out.

I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around. It’s Alex. “Cho. I need to talk to you for a second.”

I can barely stand to look at him. Yesterday I saw him and Nadia talking in the courtyard. And I felt pretty stupid about the fact that I almost bailed on the Limp jersey plan. If anything,
I wish we’d done more to Alex. But it’s not my turn anymore. “Um, I’m trying to practice,” I say.

“Now!” he barks, and stalks over to the bleachers.

I make a face at Ashlin, and she shrugs and jogs after the other girls on the track.

I follow Alex over to the bleachers and cross my arms. “Yes, Coach?” I say it as bitchy as I possibly can.

In a low, urgent voice he asks, “What is your problem with me?”

I stare at him. I just thought he was going to yell at me for not doing laps. “I don’t have a problem with you, Coach,” I say, but I’m glad he knows I’m angry. “Can I go now?”

“Stop calling me Coach! I thought we were friends, but lately you’re acting like you hate me. I don’t get it.”

Is Alex honestly this dumb? I probably shouldn’t say anything, but I can’t help myself. I look around to make sure no one’s in earshot, and then I say, “You want to be my friend? I’ll tell you how. Don’t call my sister. In fact, don’t talk to her ever again.” Alex opens his mouth like he’s going to defend himself, but I keep going. “Don’t come to our house in the middle of the night and get her to sneak out, don’t give her alcohol at parties, don’t—”

“You’ve got it all wrong! I didn’t give her any alcohol.”

“Hello! I found her shirt. And I know that she slept over your house that night. She’s fourteen, you pervert!”

Alex’s jaw goes slack in disbelief. Then he rears up and says, “Pervert? You need to get your facts straight. First of all, I never gave her any drinks. She was sneaking rum with her friends, and by the time I caught them, she was already drunk off her ass. While you were at some other party, I was cleaning up her throw-up and making sure she didn’t leave and get caught by your parents!” His Adam’s apple is bobbing up and down, and his fists are clenched. “Her friends left her, so she had to spend the night. I stayed up the whole time to make sure she didn’t drown in her own vomit. So, you’re welcome.”

I cross my arms. “If that’s true, why were you sneaking off with her in the middle of the night on the first day of school? Don’t bother trying to deny it. I saw you drop her off.”

“Because she called me crying! She wanted to make sure you never found out she was drunk that night. She made me promise not to tell you. That’s how much she cares what you think of her.” He lets out an impatient breath of air, shaking his head. “I told her that you had every right to be upset. And that I was going to be watching her too. And that if she ever had a drink in
front of me, I was going to make sure you knew about it.”

I don’t say anything. I just look back over at the field where all the girls are running laps. I’m shivering now.

“I can’t believe you would ever think that of me, Lillia. You and I have been friends since the ninth grade! Our families are friends! Nadia’s practically my kid sister. I would never think of her like that!” He pushes his hair out of his eyes. Now that the sun isn’t as strong as it was in summer, his hair is looking less blond and more coppery. And longer. “That’s, like, sick.”

“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say.

“Don’t worry about it.” I feel this sudden urge to confess everything to him. To really apologize, the way he deserves. But I can’t. Because it’s not just me. It’s Kat and Mary. I had them put themselves on the line for nothing.

I’m shaking, because I’m cold and because I’m sick over what I’ve done.

Alex takes a step toward me. He unzips his windbreaker, shrugs out of it, and drapes it over my shoulders. It has a clean laundry smell.

“Okay?” he asks, standing close to me. So close we’re almost touching. “I can’t handle it, you and me not being friends.” Quietly he adds, “You mean a lot to me. Always have. Always will.”

I open my mouth to speak, but before I can say anything, he starts to back away, back toward the field. Jogging, he calls, “Don’t think I’m letting you out of running those laps, Cho!”

I run them. Every last lap. Because if I stop, I’ll have to start thinking about what he said, and how I felt when he said it.

*    *    *

On Thursday, game day, PJ surprises me with a Tupperware full of snickerdoodles. I’m pretty sure his mom made them, because they are wrapped up in wax paper, and they are so perfectly chewy and soft, but I’m fine with that. All Ashlin gets from Derek is a sleeve of Chips Ahoy!, not even the whole box. Still, she is excited because she likes him and she’ll take anything he gives her. Reeve made Rennie some kind of protein cookie. They are as hard as bricks and they look like manure, but Rennie makes a big show of eating them at lunch.

A ton of people show up to watch us play. Not as many as an actual football game, but still. The boys from the team dress up in cheerleading uniforms and wigs and cheer along the side. It’s pretty funny. PJ wears a long black wig, and he keeps trying to do toe-touches, my signature move.

Just like I predicted, Rennie and Reeve’s team wins. Rennie scores the only touchdown, and she just about clotheslines
Teresa to make it to the end zone. After the game is over, Reeve throws her over his shoulder and carries her off the field, screaming himself hoarse. As if they won the gold medal at the Olympics or something.

They better enjoy it while they can. Because they’re about to lose, big-time.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

MARY

A
CCORDING TO
L
ILLIA
, C
OACH
C
HRISTY KEEPS HER
office locked at all times. Ten minutes and thirty-three seconds ago, she entered her office with the box of homecoming ballots. Her door is open a crack. She’s been typing on her computer for the past seven minutes and ten seconds. I know because I’ve been watching the clock at the end of the hallway the whole time. I’m leaned up against some lockers, and Kat is pretending to text on her phone by the water fountain.