by Jenny Han
In her quiet way she says, “The funny thing is that Reeve wouldn’t care if I died or not. Do you know how that feels, after everything I’ve been through? And it’s not because he’s heartless. He does care about some people.” She lifts her head and looks at Lillia. “But not me.”
Lillia gives her a puzzled look. Pleadingly she says, “Mary, you can’t do this to yourself. He’s not worth it.” She pushes her hair over to one side. “Like, not at all.”
Mary locks eyes with Lillia. “I heard you guys last night in the parking lot. I heard the things you said to him. Nobody’s ever stuck up for me that way before, not ever. You’ve been like a big sister to me. Both of you.”
I’m touched, but I don’t like the way she’s talking. It’s as if she’s saying her good-byes.
Lillia gives her a shaky smile and tries to say something, but Mary keeps talking, and her voice gets louder, more intense. “Did you know that Reeve cried? He cried after you told him off in the parking lot. That’s how much he cares what you think of him.”
I watch the shock cross Lillia’s face. “Reeve cried?”
Mary nods her head. “It’s because he likes you.”
Lillia shakes her head fast. “No, no, no. Please don’t say that.”
“Wait a minute,” I chime in. “Remember at the dance? How he kissed you in front of everybody?”
“He was on ecstasy! I gave it to him, remember! He would have kissed Mrs. Dockerty if she were onstage with him!”
“Wait up,” I say. “I remember when you first moved here, and there was a barbecue at Reeve’s house. You said you wanted a hot dog. There was one left and I was about to put it on my plate, and he practically clotheslined me out of the way.”
Lillia blinks. “What are you even talking about? Hot dogs?”
Mary’s eyes are practically glowing, she’s so excited. “Oh my gosh, I got it! Reeve gets everything he wants. But not this time. We have the one thing he’ll never get. You.”
Lil’s mouth drops open. “Even if what you’re saying is true—and I don’t think it is—but if it were, if Reeve did like me, I’d never give him the time of day. Never ever ever.” She shudders.
I kind of love the idea of Reeve pining after a girl he can never have. And I’m about to say so, but Mary leans forward as she says, “Him liking you and you not liking him back isn’t enough. Don’t you see? The thing that made it so bad for me was that Reeve made me believe there was a chance. He drew me in; he spent all that time with me; he told me his secrets. He made me feel special. He made me think I had a chance.”
I grimace.
“So when he betrayed me that day, when he pushed me in the water in front of those boys from our school, I was blindsided. I broke into a million pieces. Because it was all a lie, every moment we’d spent together. He didn’t care about me, not at all. Not one bit. He used me for his own entertainment, so he wouldn’t be bored on his ferry rides.” She clears her throat. “Reeve broke my heart, and now you’ve got a chance to break his. Will you do it, Lillia? For me? Please?” Mary’s voice breaks on the word “please.”
Lillia’s pinkie finger goes to her mouth, and she chews on her nail. “Mary . . . I want to help you. I do. But . . .” Her voice trails off, and then she sighs. “Rennie would make my life a living hell for this. Things are already so bad between us . . .”
Mary nods sadly. “No, I understand. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
“Hold up, you guys!” I shout, charging in all excited like the bull I am. “Lil, if you get Reeve to fall in love with you, you’re untouchable. Nobody could say dick to you if you were Reeve’s girl! He’s the fucking king of the island.”
“And then what happens to me when I break up with him?” Lillia challenges. “Where does that leave me?”
I smile a wolfy smile. “I’ll tell you exactly where that leaves you, Cho. That leaves you as the Head Bitch in Charge. Any girl that could reel in Reeve Tabatsky and then reject him is the boss, dude. People might not like it, but they’re sure as shit gonna respect it. It’s a power move, the ultimate power move. Shit, I wish I could be the one to pull it off.”
Lillia shakes her head slowly. “I said some really horrible things to him last night. I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for that.”
“If you apologize, he will,” I say. “Guys like him, they love a little push-pull. They don’t want it to be too easy. Tell him you’re sorry and it’ll be fine. Right, Mary?”
Mary nods.
Lillia goes silent, and I can tell she’s thinking it over. She lifts her head and sucks in her lips. “Rennie would be hella pissed.” A grin blooms across her face. “Okay,” she says at last. “I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure?” Mary asks her.
Lil lets out a deep breath. “I’m in.”
Mary practically sags in gratitude. “Thank you. Thank you, Lillia.”
I grab Lil’s shoulders and give her a shake. “Yes! Lillia Cho, HBIC!”
She laughs, and I grin at Mary. A hopeful smile is spreading across her face. “Operation Break Reeve’s Heart begins on Saturday!” I crow. “My house.”
“Why not right now?” Lillia asks me.
I shake my head. “First we need ammo. I’ll show you on Saturday after I’m done retaking the SAT. Just you wait, my pretty.”
* * *
CHAPTER NINETEEN
* * *
LILLIA
I PARK A BLOCK AWAY from Kat’s house, to be on the safe side. The houses are a lot closer together here, and mostly split-levels. There aren’t the big hedges and gates that the houses in White Haven have, so everybody can see everything. Rennie lives pretty close by, and Reeve does too, so I’m not taking any chances. On Jar Island, you never know who’s watching.
I ring the doorbell, but no one answers. The plan was to meet here after Kat took the SATs. You couldn’t pay me to take them again, even if I was guaranteed a perfect score.
I wait before I ring it a second time. A minute goes by and still nothing. The light’s on in the kitchen, though. Somebody’s home. Gingerly, I touch the door handle, and it’s unlocked, the way it always was. “Hello?” I call out, opening the door a crack. “Kat?”
When we were growing up, Kat’s house was like that—neighborhood kids were always running in and out the front door, and nobody minded. My mom would have been all, Would you mind taking your shoes off at the door, and also, does your mother know you’re over here, and who wants some Greek yogurt with blueberries? At Kat’s house it was a free-for-all; we would stuff our faces with Cheetos and Mountain Dew and play video games for hours and nobody would bother us. It was kid heaven.
“Hello?” I call out again.
A guy’s voice says, “It’s open.”
I venture into the kitchen, and there is Patrick, sitting at the table, eating cereal without a shirt on, even though it’s well past lunchtime. He looks sweaty and dirty, like he just got back from riding around on his bike. His shoulders are freckled the way I remember, but he’s not so skinny anymore—still lean, but stronger looking. His eyes widen for a split second; then he grins. “What are you doing on this side of the island, little girl?”
My throat feels dry all of a sudden. “Hi, Patrick.”
He drawls, “Are you here to see Kat, or me?”
I feel myself blush. “Kat. We—we have a project at school. Did she finish the SATs?”
“Yeah. She ran out for something. Cigarettes, I think,” he says, and then he starts eating his cereal again, like it’s perfectly normal that I’m in his house and he doesn’t have a shirt on. With his mouth full he asks, “Want some cereal?”
“What kind?”
“Your favorite,” he says, and he points to the seat next to him. “Sit down.”
Even though I had chicken salad on a croissant an hour ago, I sit down, and he gets up and brings a box of Trix, which is my favorite, a jug of milk, and a spoon. He tips more Trix into his bowl and pushes it so it’s between us.
“Bon appetit, Lil,” he says, handing me the spoon.
And then we’re both eating Trix, from the same bowl, and he smells like outside and wind and motor oil.
I can’t believe Patrick remembered that Trix was my favorite. I haven’t seen him in years, and also he goes to college now, so why should he remember anything about me?
It’s funny, because even though my crush on him was so long ago, sitting across from him now at Kat’s kitchen table, it feels like yesterday that I loved Patrick and that Rennie and Kat and I were best friends. RKL till we die.
He’s telling me about some philosophy class he’s taking at the community college, and I’m nodding hard like I’m paying attention, but all I can think about is how his eyes are green like evergreen, same as before—when Kat comes home. She looks surprised to see me, even though we said we were hanging out this afternoon.
Leaning against the doorway, she says, “What are you guys doing?”
“Eating cereal. What does it look like?” Patrick says, and I giggle.
Kat shoots me a strange look. “Bring it up to my room, Lil.” Then she heads down the hallway.
I stand up. “Do you mind?” I ask him. “If I take it with me?”
“Be my guest,” he says.
Cradling the bowl against my chest, I say, “Thanks for the cereal, Patrick.”
“Anytime, Lil.” He winks at me, and I press my lips together so I don’t smile. Then I trail after Kat, to her room.
“What the hell was that?” Kat asks me. She’s lounging on her bed with her shoes on. Ew.
“What?” I say, sinking onto the floor. I know we were supposed to be keeping everything on the DL, but it’s not like it’s my fault Pat is home.
“You know what,” she says, smirking at me. She shakes her head. “That lowlife is skipping class again. Such a loser. I have no idea why you were always so gaga over my gross brother. He goes to JICC; isn’t that beneath you? ’Cause it’s sure as shit beneath me.”
Stiffly I say, “I was never gaga over Patrick. Also there’s nothing wrong with community college. He says he’s probably going to transfer soon anyway.” So I guess Kat’s known all along. I never told her I had a crush on Patrick; I only told Rennie, who swore up and down she’d never tell. Yet another betrayal.
Kat snorts. “Oh, sweet naive Lil. He ain’t going anywhere. He has, like, two credits. He’ll be stuck on Jar Island for the rest of his damn life.”
“How did the SAT retakes go?”
“Hell if I know.”
I concentrate on eating my cereal fast, because it’s getting soggy. “When’s Mary coming?” I ask, wiping milk off my chin.
“I think she said she had to do something with her aunt first, and then she’d either get a ride from her or bike over.”
“Cool,” I say. I drink my sweet cereal milk, and then I put the bowl down on the carpet. I take off my flats and crawl onto the bed next to Kat. She scoots over for me. Staring up at the ceiling, I say, “So, um, did Patrick ever say anything about me?”
Kat busts out laughing and hits me over the head with her banana pillow. I laugh too, and then I burst out, “I can’t believe Rennie told you I liked Patrick when she explicitly promised she never would. She swore on her mom’s life!”
Giggling, Kat says, “Even if she didn’t tell me, it was so obvious. You used to think up excuses for why we should have sleepovers over here instead of at Rennie’s!”
“Well, that was partly because of Shep.” My mom is supposedly allergic to dogs, so we’ve never been allowed to have one, no matter how much we beg. I think it’s because she doesn’t want a dog on our white furniture. Sitting up, I call out, “Shep! C’mere, Shep!”
Shep comes bounding into the room, and he jumps on the bed and kisses my face. I hug him to me. “Hello, sweet boy,” I say in his ear.
“Remember those skanks Pat used to bring home?” Kat asks me suddenly. “They were always way older and they’d smoke inside the house. Remember that one time?”
* * *
Of course I remember.
I was thirteen during the height of my Patrick crush, so I guess he was fifteen or sixteen at the time, and the girls he hung out with seemed like women to me. They had boobs and they cussed and they rode around on the back of his motorcycle.
There was this one girl, Beth. It was the middle of the day, and Rennie and Kat and I were in the TV room blasting music, practicing a routine from one of those dance movies where people have dance-offs in the rain in a parking lot.
“Lil, you have to roll your hips back like this,” Rennie instructed me, demonstrating.
She and Kat started doing it together in perfect unison. “Loosen up, Lil,” Kat said. “You’re too stiff.”
Haltingly, I tried to follow their lead and get the motion. That’s when Patrick and Beth came in. They burst out laughing, and I stopped immediately, but Rennie and Kat ignored them and kept on going, even when they sat down on the couch and watched.
Beth had auburn hair; it was long enough to put in a ponytail, but barely. She had on a ton of eyeliner and no lipstick, and a big black T-shirt with slashed arms that she wore as a dress. She looked like she was twenty-two even though she was probably only eighteen. “Look at those little hoochies in the making,” she cracked, lighting up a cigarette. Her voice was low and husky.
Patrick snorted, and I lowered my eyes. Through my lashes I sneaked a peek at her. She had her legs stretched out on the coffee table even though she still had shoes on. “Let’s go upstairs,” I whispered, but Kat ignored me.
“We’re hoochies?” Kat said. “Look at you. Where are your pants? In the back of somebody’s truck?”
Beth guffawed with hoarse laughter and took a drag of her cigarette. She looked sexy when she did it, like she was in a movie.
“Excuse me, but you’re not allowed to smoke in the house,” Rennie said, her hands on her hips.
Patrick tapped a cigarette out of Beth’s box. “Go play outside, little girls. We want to watch TV.” They smirked at each other.
“We were here first,” Rennie said.
Patrick gave her a threatening look, and Kat said, “Fine, fine. We’re going.” To us she said, “Come on.” At the last second she snatched Beth’s pack of cigarettes and made a run for it with us close behind her. We ran out the screen door and I could hear Patrick’s roar.
I never felt more my age than that moment. I wanted to be eighteen and not thirteen. I wanted Patrick to look at me like he was looking at her.
And more than anything, what I wanted was to ride on the back of Patrick’s motorcycle. Once, to see what it felt like to go that fast, with only him to anchor me to the world. My parents would have sent me to a convent if I’d ever even said that out loud. They’d made me promise I would never ride on Pat’s motorcycle; that was the condition of me being allowed to hang out at Kat’s house.
I’ve never broken a promise to my parents before, but if Patrick asked me to go for a ride on his bike right now, I’d do it. I wouldn’t even hesitate. To be that wild and free. I want to know what that feels like.
* * *
We’re eating candy-apple popcorn and listening to music—Kat’s favorite band, but it’s making my head hurt, it’s so loud—so we don’t hear Mary when gets here. She bounds into the room, her cheeks all rosy and pink, already so much better than she looked on Thursday. “Mary!” I sing out.
“Hi, hi!” she says, coming over by the bed. She’s about to sit down with us when Shep bares his teeth and growls at her.
Kat grabs him by the collar and gives him a shake. To Shep she says, “Cut that shit out.” To Mary she says, “He’s harmless, I swear.”
Mary gives a nervous laugh and sits on the floor. “Dogs usually love me.”
“I can kick him out,” Kat offers, getting up.
“No,” I protest. “Let me cuddle with him. Mary, he won’t come near you.”
“Fine by me,” she says, giggling. “Nice doggie.
”
Shep darts under the bed, and I crawl over and try to lure him out with a handful of popcorn, and he looks tempted but doesn’t come out. I offer Mary the can. “It’s so good,” I say, dangling it in front of her.
Mary makes a face. “You only like super-sweet things, Lillia.”
“That’s ’cause I’m so sweet,” I say in a singsong voice. She smiles back at me, and I climb into Kat’s hammock.
Kat snorts and goes to her closet. She throws me a shopping bag of clothes. “Here. Ammo.”
Before I even open it, I say, “Just so you know, I’m not wearing fishnets.”
“There aren’t any fishnets in there, you beotch.” She plops down on her bed and watches me as I start going through the bag.
A pink strapless corseted top. A lacy black corseted top. Cream thigh-high socks made out of soft yarn. A bandage skirt so short it might even be a tube top; I can’t tell. The socks are kind of cute, but this other stuff looks like Frederick’s of Hollywood. Totally not my style.
“Kat, did you steal all this?” I ask. I’m mostly kidding.
Kat rolls her eyes. “You know I don’t steal, beotch. That’s your girl Rennie. Oh, and BTW, you owe me a hundred and sixty bucks.”
I lift up a stretchy long-sleeved minidress. It’s basically a ballet leotard. “I’m not wearing this!” I shriek. “I’ll look like a prostitute.”
“I have that in purple,” Kat says, glaring at me.
Whoops . . . “It’s not really my look,” I say. “I mean, I’m sure you look amazing in it. But it’s not me.” I spot a black lace corset at the bottom of the pile. “You expect me to go to school in lingerie?”
Kat scoots over to the edge of the bed. “So what! You’re gonna look hot. You strut into school wearing that and some high-ass heels, and Reeve’s head will be spinning. All you have to do is wear the clothes; then you catch his eye. Next comes physical contact, a touch on the arm, a hand on his knee. Then you talk to other guys and inspire jealousy. It’s simple.”