by Jenny Han
Friday night I don’t get home until dinnertime because my riding lesson at the barn goes long. I run straight upstairs and hop into the shower because Reeve’s going to be here soon to pick me up for a party—some junior girl PJ is talking to is throwing it, and Reeve thinks we should go and be social. I think it’s because he knows Alex won’t be there; he’ll be at the Preservation Society gala with his parents. Alex’s parents buy a table every year, and my parents always go. That’s where they are tonight.
Last year Alex and I went. We sat with our parents, and we rolled our eyes and laughed at them on the dance floor. We snuck a glass of champagne behind the staircase, and we took turns gulping it down. I kept thinking he would ask me to dance, but he never did.
When I get out of the shower, I sit down at my vanity to comb my hair, and that’s when I see the gala ticket, tucked in between my perfume bottles. I pick it up, hold it in my hands. My mom must have left it for me this morning. When my mom first mentioned the gala, it was right after Valentine’s Day, when things between me and Alex were super weird. I told her I probably wasn’t going, but I’m glad she didn’t listen.
There’s no way Alex will be able to ignore me in front of our parents! He’ll have to talk to me. I leap into action, doing my makeup, putting my hair in a slicked-back bun. I don’t have time to curl it or do anything special. I’m zipping myself into the only long dress I own, a slinky black strapless dress my mom gave me because it was “too youthful” for her, when I remember I’m supposed to go to that party with Reeve.
Shoot.
Before I really think it through, I text him that I’m not feeling well and I’m going to skip out on the party and rest. Reeve immediately texts back a concerned Are you okay???, which makes me feel horrible. But there’s no going back now.
* * *
Dinner is being served when I arrive. I hurry over to the table, and Alex’s mother, Celeste, jumps up as soon as she sees me. “Lillia! You look stunning!”
We hug, and then I slide into the empty seat next to Alex. His jaw is hanging halfway to the floor, and then he remembers he’s mad at me and erases the surprise from his face and goes back to indifference. He looks very grown-up in his tuxedo.
My mom turns to me and says, “Lilli! How did you know there was an extra seat at the table?”
“Because you left me a ticket,” I remind her.
“I did?”
“Yes, it was on my dresser.”
My mom looks confused, and then Daddy says, “You look beautiful, honey. Just like your mom.”
“Thanks, Daddy,” I say.
When the adults are talking about one of the vacations up for silent auction, I whisper to Alex, “I came here to talk to you.”
“Then you should probably go.” Alex pushes his chair out and stands up. “Does anybody want anything from the bar?” Celeste gives him a reproving look, and he holds up his hands and says, “I’m getting a Sprite.”
Alex disappears, and he doesn’t come back until dessert. I’ve got a spoonful of cranberry gelato halfway to my mouth when Celeste says delightedly, “The band’s started playing music again! Alex, ask Lil to dance.”
I nearly choke. But it’s the perfect thing. “I’d love to dance.”
“No, thanks,” Alex says, taking a sip of his drink. Whatever it is, it definitely isn’t just Sprite.
Celeste narrows her eyes at him. “Alex Lind!”
Celeste keeps harassing him, and then his dad joins in, and my dad says, “Don’t force the guy.”
At this, Alex finally stands up without looking at me. “Do you want to dance?” He says it like it’s the last thing he wants to do. I’m red-faced as I follow him out to the dance floor. Stiffly he takes my right hand, and I put my other hand on his shoulder, and we don’t look at each other at all. We both look straight ahead. Halfway through the song I know time is running out, and I start practicing in my head what I’m going to say. I care about you so much. You’ve always been such a good friend to me. . . . No, that’s not right. You’re one of my best friends—
“Reeve’s going to hurt you. That’s the kind of guy he is. But maybe you know that already.” I start to pull away from him, so I can see his face, but Alex holds me still. “I want you to know one thing.”
My heart beats painfully hard inside my chest. “What?”
“When he breaks your heart, I won’t be there waiting. I’m done.” And then the song is over, and Alex lets go of me and walks away.
* * *
I make some excuse as to why I have to leave, but I can’t remember what I tell my parents and the Linds. And I don’t wait for permission. I just mumble something, grab my clutch, and go.
My hands shake the whole ride home. Once I’m in my driveway, I don’t get out of the car right away. I’m lost in that moment, hearing Alex’s voice. When he breaks your heart, I won’t be there waiting. I’m done.
I’ve wanted to have it both ways. Both boys. I’ve never told Alex no, not really. Because I like the way he makes me feel. Because . . . maybe I do have some feelings for him. Maybe that’s why this has been hurting me so bad. It’s why I don’t care about Ash or PJ or anybody else being mad at me. Because none of that’s important compared to the thought of Alex hating me.
I’m finally getting out of the car when headlights shine behind me. I turn around, thinking it’s my parents coming home early. But it’s not. It’s Reeve.
He shuts off the engine and jumps out of the truck, holding a plastic bag. He stops short when he sees me. In my dress, with my red lipstick and my hair done up. He frowns in confusion. “Why are you all dressed up?”
I step toward him, and then I falter. “I—I went to that Preservation Society benefit tonight.”
“I thought you said you didn’t feel well.” Realization is dawning over his face. Realization and hurt. He holds out the bag to me, which I take. I open it, and there are candy bars inside.
“I’m sorry,” I say, wringing the bag in my hands. “I should have told you I was going. I just—I wanted a chance to talk to Alex alone.”
“You mean without me around.”
“No. I mean, maybe.” I bite my lip. “Alex is really important to me—”
Incredulously, Reeve says, “More important than me?”
“Of course not!”
“Then what the fuck, Cho! You lied to me so you could go to some party with him?” He’s panicky. Pacing.
“I just wanted to talk to him, to try to explain—”
Reeve shakes his head. “So now what, you two are buddy-buddy again?”
“No.”
“But you wish you were.”
“Reeve, just because you and I are together, that doesn’t mean I’m cutting him out of my life.” I swallow hard. Not that it matters anymore, because he’s already cut me out of his.
“Well, what did he say?” He’s suddenly quiet. Nervous.
“Nothing.”
He takes a step toward me. “Tell me, Cho. He had to have said something.”
“Reeve, I . . .” I struggle for what to say. Should I be honest and tell him the terrible things Alex said about him? Every second that passes, Reeve looks like he crumbles. And then I realize he’s afraid I’m going to break up with him. “I want to be with you, okay?”
Reeve’s face clears, and he grabs me and hugs me so tight. Reeve is the one I am with. And if this is really going to work with us, I need to set these feelings for Alex aside for good. I have to let him go, because he’s already let go of me.
Good-bye, Lindy.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
KAT
I TEXT LILLIA TO SEE if she wants to hang out, and she suggests Scoops. When I get there, she’s sitting at a table waiting for me. She waves me over like mad even though I can clearly see her.
“What kind of ice cream do you want?” she asks. “My treat.”
I raise my eyebrow. Why does she want to treat me? Whatevs. I’m not passing up free ice cream. “Sweet. I
’ll take a scoop of Moose Tracks and a scoop of mint chip.”
“You got it.” Lillia jumps up and goes to place the order. I look at my phone until she comes back.
When she sits back down, she has three cups of ice cream. “Whoa, Lil. I know I’m a pig, but I can’t eat all that by myself.”
“It’s not just for us,” she says. Sucking in her breath, she says, “Don’t be mad, but I invited Reeve to meet us here.”
“Lil,” I whine. It’s one thing if Lil wants to be with Reeve, but I don’t see why I should have to waste an afternoon with the kid.
“You know, I was talking about you the other day, and Reeve was like, ‘We should hang out with Kat more often! She’s really cool!’ ”
I snort. He never said that. Lillia can’t lie for shit.
“Okay, okay, fine. He didn’t say that. But here’s the truth, Kat. You and Reeve are the two people I care about most in my life, besides my family.” She fixes her puppy-dog eyes on me, all beseeching. “And it’s important to me that you have a good relationship with each other. I know you guys have history, and we all have history with Mary, but can’t you let some of that go and start off fresh? Or, at least try to? For me? I mean, that’s what Mary’s probably doing. She’s starting fresh somewhere, letting the past go. Don’t you think?”
Oh, gawd. No wonder Lil has every guy I know eating out of the palm of her hand. This chick is impossible to say no to, and I’m not even a dude. She’s right. I think a lot of my current Reeve disdain comes from knowing what he did to Mary. But Lillia seems so sure that he’s a good guy. Maybe I have him pegged wrong. And Mary must have found closure, or else she’d still be here.
I sink back into my chair. “Fine, but if he pisses me off, I walk.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Does he know I’m here, or did you trick him, too?”
“He knows,” she assures me.
I’m shoveling a spoonful of Moose Tracks into my mouth when Reeve walks into Scoops and ambles over to our table like he’s a damn king. God, he doesn’t even have to speak, and he’s already annoying me. He gives Lil a kiss, and then he grins at me and says, “What up, DeBrassio.”
I nod at him. With a mouthful of ice cream I say, “ ’Sup.”
Nobody’s saying anything, so Lil starts chattering about her horse, Phantom, and practicing different jumping obstacles. Personally, it’s boring the shit out of me because I have no idea what any of it means, but Reeve’s nodding and listening like he’s actually interested. He yawns a couple of times, though, deep sleepy ones. The third time Lillia frowns at him. “Are you even listening to what I’m saying?”
“Yes.”
“Then what did I just say?” she challenges.
“You were explaining what jumping over a crossrail means.” He demonstrates by setting up an obstacle course with the napkin dispenser and some straws. He raises his brows at her smugly. “See?” He leans in toward her and opens his mouth and says, “Ahh.”
Inwardly I groan. I don’t know why I have to sit here and be a witness to their foreplay.
“You have your own ice cream,” she says. “You can feed yourself.”
“But I like yours better,” he says, and pouts.
“I’m not sharing. You don’t deserve it. You were yawning the whole time I was talking, right, Kat?”
I shrug and keep eating my ice cream. I’m already plotting what excuse I’m gonna give so I can get out of here.
“Sorry, babe. I’m just tired,” he says.
“You do look kinda rough,” I say to Reeve, who frowns. With my spoon I gesture at his face. “You’ve got circles under your eyes.”
“I’ve been sleeping for shit lately,” Reeve admits, rubbing his face. “I keep having weird dreams.”
“What kind of dreams?” Now I’m interested. I love hearing about freaky dreams. “I have a book that tells you the meaning of different dreams.”
“That’s so neat,” Lillia says. “Reeve, tell her about your dream and she’ll interpret it.”
Reeve quickly shakes his head. “I don’t remember.”
Lil licks her spoon. “What do you mean, you don’t remember? You just said your dreams were weird.”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember them, okay?”
“God, get defensive, why don’t you. I thought it’d be fun. Jeez.” She looks at me and makes a face.
I get up to go to the bathroom, and as I duck down the hallway, I hear Lillia hiss, “Can you please perk up and at least try to make an effort with her?”
I stop behind the corner to hide and listen. This sounds like it’s gonna be good.
“I’m serious. Kat’s my friend and it’s important to me that she like you.”
Aww. That means a lot. Maybe I could try to make more of an effort too.
“Okay, okay.”
“She already has a terrible impression of you, and you’re making it worse. The dream thing was the perfect in!”
Damn. He wasn’t that bad. He just didn’t want to share his bad dreams. They’re probably about kinky sex stuff.
I go into the bathroom to pee. When I get back, they’re still bickering. Yikes. Change of plans—I’ll try harder next time. “I think I’m gonna head out,” I say.
Lillia glares at Reeve. “You made her uncomfortable.”
Reeve challenges, “DeBrassio, are you uncomfortable?”
“No—”
“See?” he says. “I’ve known this girl my whole life. She doesn’t get uncomfortable like a normal girl.” A sly grin spreads across his face. “Hey, remember that time in sixth grade when my parents had a Labor Day barbecue? You were wearing white shorts, and I made a ketchup bomb, and it exploded all over your butt, and I told everybody you had your period?” He busts up laughing.
“Reeve!” Lillia yells.
But I’m laughing too. I remember it like it was yesterday. What was embarrassing was I didn’t even have my period yet, but I didn’t want people to know that.
“You didn’t give a shit,” Reeve continues. “You just borrowed a pair of Tommy’s soccer shorts like it was nothing. Ruined my whole prank.”
“Yeah, and I frenched him in your bed that day too,” I say, and Reeve’s eyes go wide.
“For real?”
I nod.
“You ho!” he hoots.
Reeve and I both crack up so hard I’m coughing out a lung, and Lil says, “Um, that’s sexist. Tommy’s the ho! He hooked up with every girl on your block, even the old ones. There’s such a double standard for guys and girls.”
Still laughing, I say, “Lil, quit taking it so seriously. We’re just kidding around.”
“Thank you, DeBrassio,” Reeve says. “She’s always ragging on me. It’s nice to have somebody on my side for once.”
I point at Lillia. “You need to chill out.” Reeve starts clapping, and then I point at him. “And you need to not be so full of yourself. It’s annoying. You ain’t that special.” Reeve opens his mouth to protest, but I shush him. I say to Lillia, “Lil, if you want to hear embarrassing stuff from back in the day, here’s something. In elementary school Reeve was too chickenshit to take a dump at school, so he used to ask to go to the nurse’s office every day after lunch. We all knew where he was going. There was this one day—”
Reeve bellows, “Kat!”
Everyone in Scoops turns to look at us, and Lillia’s giggling so hard she’s stomping her feet. “OMG, tell me more, tell me more!”
Reeve grabs my shirt sleeve in a panic. “Please, DeBrassio, I’m begging you, do not finish that story. I swear I’ll try to be less cocky!”
“All right, all right,” I say, chuckling.
From across the table Lillia mouths, Tell me later, and I give her a wink and a nod.
When we get out of Scoops, Lillia and Reeve walk me to my car. As we head down Main Street, I notice the way his eyes follow her wherever she goes. When she stops at a store window, or pauses to take a pebble ou
t of her loafer. He can’t take his eyes off her. And any excuse he can get to touch her, hold her hand, put his hand on the small of her back, the guy can’t get enough. It’s clear he’s crazy about her.
I’m still not Reeve’s biggest fan, but even I have to admit he adores her. And as her friend, that’s all I really give a shit about. So long as he keeps treating her the way he does, Reeve and I are good.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
LILLIA
THE PROM COMMITTEE HAS ONLY met twice since the new year. Rennie was the head of the committee. I guess I’ve pretty much taken over her job, but only because I’m good at making lists and keeping track of things. Rennie never wrote anything down. I was basically her secretary.
I open up my notebook, start going down the checklist, and say, “So far we’ve only sold twenty tickets to prom. We really need to work on outreach, you guys.”
“Actually, I’d like to address that,” Alex says from the other end of the long library table.
I’m careful not to look directly at him. “What is it, Alex?”
He looks out at the table. “It’s been brought to my attention that—”
Reeve chuckles, and it makes Alex’s mouth snap shut. “Sorry. You just sound like Principal Tortola.” Reeve looks at Derek and makes a smirky face, and Derek smirks back.
Alex continues as if Reeve didn’t speak. “It’s been brought to my attention that some people feel the price of prom is too expensive, and that some people who’d like to go can’t swing it.”
“What do you mean?” Ash asks, frowning. “Who’s been telling you that? Your chorus friends?”
“It’s just a lot of money, when you stop and think about it. Last year tickets were, what, fifty bucks? And now they’re a hundred? That’s crazy.”