The Wrong Side of Kai

by Estelle Maskame

  “Ooo, that’s cute!” I say, pointing to the blouse in her hand.

  “Vans,” Chyna says, narrowing her eyes. She dumps the blouse back into the rack and angles her body toward me. “You can tell me.”

  I lean back against the mirror and shrug. “Well, usually when the guy you like insinuates that you’re easy, it kind of ruins everything.”

  Chyna’s expression mirrors mine from last night when Kai said the hurtful things that he did. First shock, then disbelief. She parts her lips, her jaw hanging wide. “No way.”

  I try to ignore the pain in my chest and play it off, to act disinterested. If I think about last night, I’ll get upset again. It’s easier to just rummage through the clothes rack, pretending to look for something, even though I’m staring blankly into the distance. “Yeah. The Kai thing is over.”

  And the fact that it’s over before it even began is the worst feeling in the world. I’ll never know what could have happened, if Kai really could have been the one to make me feel different about things.

  Chyna knows not to linger on the topic. She returns to searching through the racks, asking my opinion on different items that she holds up, and by the time we get to our fourth store of the day, she finally finds a top she likes to go with her jeans back at home. Now it’s time to stop for smoothies.

  We’re standing at the counter, watching the blenders while our drinks are made, when Chyna suddenly stiffens beside me. She grabs my arm and holds me still.

  “Don’t turn around,” she says. She’s staring at something over my shoulder, her eyes wide, and I do the exact opposite of what she tells me.

  I crane my neck to look behind me and at first, I don’t know what it is that I’m not supposed to be looking at. The food court is behind us, rammed with people and the babble of voices and screeching of trays. I scour the tables until my searching gaze lands on Kai.

  Now my body goes rigid too. My limbs turn to blocks of ice like those outside.

  Kai isn’t alone. He’s with a girl, and I recognize her immediately. It’s the same girl who approached me in the diner on Tuesday, the one with the pretty makeup and blond hair, the one who asked if Kai and I were dating. It’s Sierra Jennings. It’s her.

  “I told you not to turn around!” Chyna wails.

  “Sierra,” I mumble, but my throat has gone dry. I can’t tear my eyes away from Kai and her. “That’s the ex.”

  “The one he was in love with?”

  I nod, and Chyna and I stare at the two of them, our gazes piercing straight through the pair. Kai and Sierra are sitting at a small table on the edge of the food court, neither of them eating. They’re huddled together, heads bent close, wrapped in deep conversation. Their faces are serious, but neither joyful nor angry. It’s hard to gauge the mood of the conversation, but Sierra appears to be doing most of the talking. She keeps playing with the ends of her straight, blond hair while Kai listens, his hands intertwined between his knees. He’s wearing his Cleveland Browns’ cap again, only forward this time, so the bill of the hat shadows his face.

  “What are they doing together?” Chyna questions, her voice hushed as she leans in close to my ear.

  “I . . . don’t . . . know,” I manage to say. It’s a question I would love to know the answer to.

  I thought Kai and Sierra were done. She cheated on him; she broke his heart. Kai told me he wasn’t still in love with her, but could he have been lying just to spare my feelings the morning after he pulled away from our first kiss? Is that why he didn’t want to take things further last night? Not because he wanted it to mean something, but because he was holding out to win Sierra back? Have I just been throwing myself at him while all this time he was still in love with his ex?

  The girl working the smoothie bar presents our drinks on the countertop. I snatch mine and march away from the food court, never looking back again at Kai and Sierra while Chyna follows close on my heels.

  Vanessa Murphy, chasing after a guy who doesn’t want her.

  Vanessa Murphy, catching feelings for a guy who has feelings for somebody else.

  Vanessa Murphy, a complete fool.

  21

  I hear Isaiah blasting on his car horn outside.

  It’s almost nine, snow is falling fast and thick, and the cold air bites at my exposed skin when I swing open my front door. The wise thing to do tonight, after everything that has happened this week, would be to wear baggy jeans and a top with a high neckline, but the brave thing to do is continue to wear whatever the hell I want. That’s why I’m wearing my favorite mini skirt and matching bralette, because I want to, and no amount of judging from my peers can stop me. I am, however, wearing an old pair of sneakers for trudging through the snow.

  “So, you’re going to a party,” a voice says flatly from behind me.

  I look over my shoulder, one hand still on the door. Dad is standing at the foot of the stairs. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since last night, because we’ve been carefully tiptoeing around one another all day. The moment I got home from the mall, I locked myself in my room and only emerged to shower and grab a bite to eat, texting Kennedy from opposite rooms so that she could keep me updated on when the coast was clear. But even she has plans on a Saturday, so is no longer around to update me.

  And obviously the coast isn’t clear this time.

  I give Dad a tiny shrug of my shoulders as we stare across the hall at one another in strained silence. With an outfit like this, a party is the only place I could possibly be going. “Yeah. I’ll probably stay at Chyna’s, so I’ll be back tomorrow.” I don’t know why I even bother telling him the second part.

  Dad shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and lowers his gaze to the floor. His mouth moves as though he is searching for the right words to say, like the rusty gears in his mind are slowly beginning to turn again after all this time, but he takes a long time to finally speak. “You should really be wearing a jacket. It’s barely forty degrees outside.”

  “You’re telling me to wear a jacket?”

  “I guess I am,” he says, looking up. He scratches at his temple and, again, he takes a few seconds to muster up the correct thing to say. “I’ll grab one for you. Which one?”

  I’m too stunned to reply at first. I stare at Dad, blinking in disbelief. Suddenly, he’s telling me to wear a jacket because it’s cold out? At least it’s something, which is so much better than nothing. “Um, the black leather one,” I manage to force out, my words quiet. “It should be on my floor.”

  Dad nods and turns, disappearing back upstairs.

  I look out across the lawn at Isaiah’s car still parked outside, its engine purring and the headlights casting a glow across the white streets. Chyna rolls down the window from the passenger seat and motions for me to hurry up, but I quickly throw up two fingers to let her know I’ll be two seconds.

  I don’t even want to wear a jacket, but this is a moment that’s too rare to ignore. Dad is actually telling me to do something for once. That’s the only reason I wait by the front door until he returns, coming downstairs with my favorite leather jacket in his hand. He walks over and stops a foot away from me.

  “Here you go,” he says, and passes the jacket to me, his fingers brushing against mine. Neither of us is smiling. The interaction feels too foreign. “Have fun, Vanessa.”

  I squeeze the jacket tightly and step outside onto the porch as Dad closes the door behind me. I don’t put the jacket on though, only carry it with me as I dash across the snow in my sneakers and dive into the cozy backseat of Isaiah’s car. The heating is on full blast, his music playing loudly. I can smell the luscious scent of Chyna’s perfume.

  “What was the hold-up?” Chyna asks, turning in the passenger seat and peering at me from around the headrest as Isaiah begins to drive. Her hair is styled into a big puff and huge hoop earrings dangle from her ears. She’s wearing the shirt she bought earlier.

  “Dad wanted me to wear a jacket,” I say blankly, still not enti
rely sure if the past few minutes really did just happen. All I’ve ever wanted for a long time is for Dad to give me some sign that he actually cares about me, but I didn’t realize how awkward it would feel if he ever did. It’s just so . . . unusual.

  Even Chyna looks surprised. “He did?”

  “Like you’ll even wear it,” Isaiah teases. I catch his eye in the rearview mirror and he gives me his usual goofy grin. Riding with Isaiah and Chyna is seriously like hanging out with my siblings, which means they have the right to taunt me.

  “Watch me,” I shoot back, and I pull on the jacket and wrap it tightly around me.

  Isaiah drives us to Maddie’s house, music blaring into our ears at full volume, and the familiarity of their mindless chatter instantly puts me at ease. Isaiah is heading to a party too, one that is probably way more cool than our high school one, but because he doesn’t drink, he’ll remain our designated driver for the evening. Soon I realize that I’m not worrying about Harrison or Kai, because I’m too caught up in the laughter inside the car. We stop by the convenience store en route so that Isaiah can score us some cheap booze, and soon we’re skidding to a halt in the snow outside Maddie’s house, armed with a positive attitude and hands full of hard cider.

  “Remember, don’t get in anyone’s car even if they claim they’re sober. I’ll pick you guys up on my way home,” Isaiah reminds us, shooting us a stern look as Chyna and I clamber out of the car. We both blow him a kiss, but he doesn’t know that he’s supposed to catch it and keep it safe.

  There’s a cool breeze tonight that makes the temperature feel so much lower than it has been the past few days, and the snow crunches beneath my sneakers as Chyna and I trudge toward the house. I can hear Isaiah driving off behind us and I can hear the music pumping from inside the house. There are two guys from school smoking cigarettes on the porch, watching us closely as we approach, and I’m convinced they exchange a smirk with one another when they realize it’s me. That video is still on everyone’s minds.

  I take a deep breath, clearing my lungs, then walk slowly but with purpose to the front door with Chyna by my side. She must sense my fear despite how hard I’m trying to hide it, because she slips her hand into mine, and she stares the two boys down with a threatening look as we pass them. I imagine their looks and snickers will only be the first of many tonight.

  We enter the house together and immediately, the music rings in my ears, mixed with the clinking of bottles and the cracking of beer tabs. The party is definitely a notch up from what it was last weekend. There are more people, that’s for sure, and maybe Maddie is right. Maybe after last week’s brawl and the scandal of that awful video being filmed at this same party, people don’t want to miss out on any more potential drama. It’s mostly seniors from Westerville North that are here, with a few of the more popular juniors here too. It’s everyone that I know. Everyone that has laughed at my misfortune this week. Everyone that has flashed me dirty looks in the hallways. Everyone that has taunted me online.

  Even now, I catch the looks people shoot me out of the corner of their eye as they pretend not to notice me, but really, I know they all do. I imagine people have been wondering whether or not I would have the courage to turn up tonight, and now they realize that yes, I do. Because Vanessa Murphy won’t let her mistakes – or Harrison’s actions – ruin her life. She’ll hold her head up high and keep moving forward.

  “You okay?” Chyna asks, squeezing my hand more tightly. I just give her a tight smile and nod. “A drink?”

  I nod again. Tonight, Chyna is the strong one. She’s the one checking that I’m okay, the one protecting me. I’m not used to being out of my comfort zone like this.

  We move across the living room toward the kitchen, still hand-in-hand, with the cider under Chyna’s arm. A group of guys are playing beer pong in the kitchen as everyone carefully navigates around the game to get themselves drinks from the selection of alcohol that’s spread across the counters.

  “You’re brave,” someone murmurs as I pass them, and I can’t decide if they’re antagonizing me or complimenting me. I am brave for coming here.

  Chyna and I set our cider down, grab ourselves a bottle each, then pop them open. I take a long sip, gulping down the alcohol in desperation to loosen up and relax.

  “I’m going to go find Malik Dorsey,” Chyna says, her voice slightly wary. “Are you coming?”

  “Actually, you go ahead. I’m going to hang out in here,” I say, taking another swig and giving her a reassuring smile. I want to prove to myself that I can survive on my own without Chyna quite literally holding my hand. Last week, floating around on my own never scared me, because I knew there’d always be someone who would strike up a conversation with me. It’s different now. They’re happy to talk about me, but no one wants to talk to me anymore.

  Once Chyna reluctantly heads off to find her new love interest, I hover in the kitchen for a while, pretending to be invested in the game of beer pong, but really I’m just standing over in the corner hoping that no one will notice me. So many people come and go, but none of them are Harrison, and none of them are Kai.

  “Vanessa!” Maddie says as she waltzes into the kitchen and spots me. She comes over, blond hair swishing around her shoulders, a grin plastered so wide on her face that it almost looks like it could hurt. “You made it!”

  I have never felt so relieved to see Madison Romy before. “Hey! Did you invite half the school or something?” I motion to the packed kitchen, everyone brushing elbows with one another because the house is so full.

  “I didn’t need to,” she says, proudly looking around. If her parents flipped at her for breaking some precious vase last weekend, then I wonder just how angry they’ll be after this party. There’ll definitely be some serious damage to this house by the end of the night. “Everyone was totally buzzing after last weekend! It didn’t take any convincing to get people to come again. Thank you!”

  I raise an eyebrow at her, questioning her gratitude. “For hooking up with Harrison Boyd in your little brother’s bedroom?”

  “Yes!” She grins, then leans in close and kisses my cheek. I think Maddie is secretly a middle-aged woman trapped in a teenager’s body. She suddenly looks serious as a light bulb goes off in her head. “Wait. Where’s Kai? Is he here yet?”

  “Yeah, about that . . .” I mumble. Does she seriously believe that Kai and I were actually going to stir up drama on purpose, dragging ourselves into an even deeper hole than the one we’re already in? Kai may have agreed to this twisted plan, but I certainly didn’t. Besides, Kai and I aren’t talking anymore. We won’t be pulling off any teamwork tonight, that’s for sure.

  “Oh, look what we have here,” a voice booms over the music, and my eyes flicker from Maddie’s over to Harrison’s. His gruff voice is so off-putting. I can’t believe I ever thought his voice – or anything about him – was sexy.

  Harrison weaves a path across the kitchen like he is Moses parting the Red Sea. Everyone instantly quits their game of beer pong and moves to the side, out of the way, as Harrison walks toward me, flanked by Noah. Anthony is nowhere to be seen. The music continues to play loudly, but the voices that were laced around it quickly die down.

  Everyone’s eyes land on me.

  22

  Harrison stops a mere two feet away from me and for a moment, I think of last weekend, when we both flirted with one another over in the living room. We were all teasing winks and seductive gazes back then, nothing else, and yet it has come down to this: two enemies standing face-to-face with an audience awaiting the fallout.

  I glance over at Maddie, who looks torn between whether or not she wants this drama to unfold. She subtly steps away, removing herself from the situation, and hides behind some of the other guests. I don’t blame her too much. I know she’s intimidated by Harrison, and we weren’t even friends a few days ago, so I can’t expect her to jump in and save me.

  “You have some nerve showing up here,” Harrison says, fo
lding his arms across his puffed-out chest as though his threatening stance will scare me. I can see the loathing in his eyes and the tension in his curled-up fists. There’s no doubt he knows I was the one who taped that photo of him to his locker yesterday, and this is the first time we have seen each other since. Harrison looks rigid, like he’s fighting the urge to lay his hands on me.

  “It’s brave of you to show up too,” I throw back despite longing to curl up into a ball and cry. Fighting back was easy before, but now I don’t want to play these games anymore. I want to admit that I can’t do this for a second longer, that I don’t want to keep arguing, but I can’t break now. Not when everyone is watching. “How does it feel, Harrison? Being put on display to the world?”

  A hush of snickers circles the room. The entire party is now crowding into the kitchen, everyone listening in, most likely thinking how great it is that drama is kicking off so early into the night. I used to love this type of pathetic entertainment, but being the school’s punching bag really isn’t a joke. It’s awful and I feel so alone. The entire room is against me, and no one should ever have to feel like this.

  Harrison casts a couple glares at the people huddled around us, then focuses back on me. “So, this was all about getting even with me?” he snorts, his laughter cold. “Great job, Vanessa. You did it. We’re even now.” He sarcastically claps his hands together, loud and slow while shaking his head pitifully at me.

  All the air in here seems to disappear, suffocating me while I stare back at Harrison. It’s not the reply I expected and now I can’t seem to get words to form on my tongue. I feel so helpless, so trapped, and I know the longer I stand here without saying a single word, the more of an idiot I’ll look. I search the kitchen for Chyna, hoping she’ll appear to save me, but she is nowhere to be seen.