Sobbing into the piece of tissue, she looked up at me, shaking her head. “He broke up with me,” she said. “He didn’t say why.”
I tried to reach out for her, but she moved, she threw my hand away with her arm. “Don’t,” she snapped. “If I find out you screwed him, I will make your life a living hell.”
“Ava, why would I?”
“You’ve always been jealous,” she said. She turned her back. “You thought Char was bad, I’ll go zero to the Hannibal Lecter.” She walked out, leaving me staring at my reflection.
There was nothing between Kaleb and I, except a few unwanted kisses, but even then, that was on him and not me. I continued to tell myself this as I looked myself in the eyes. “Screw them,” I said, forcing a smile on my face.
I skipped the art studio and went straight back to Mila. They stood around, laughing and giggling with each other.
“Zoey?” They looked shocked.
“I wanna know why you hate Char,” I said. “What did she do to you?”
Mila smiled and took a seat on the edge of a desk.
“I was friends with Char when we were younger, our parents were besties,” she said. “We did the whole pageant thing for a while, we were like 8 or 9, and I’d been winning against her in some circuits. Her mom hated it, she hated me, and one day, she took me and Char for haircuts, and she cut most of my hair off,” she said.
“Oh,” Heather looked at Mila. “I didn’t know.”
“The hair idea was good, but it’s been done,” Mila said.
“And that’s nothing to Char,” I said. “It’s all about taking the crown, her cheer captaincy and any hope of a scholarship.”
“We’ve talked about rigging the vote,” Heather said. “They wanted to turn everything into voting with your phone, but we’ve kept to paper ballots.”
“You have this in the bag,” Mila said.
“Don’t you want it?” I asked.
Mila shrugged. “I told you, it won’t hurt her as much as you winning. Winning, for me would be to see her face, and to see how much weight she gains.”
They were both the same. Mila and Char, but Mila hadn’t done anything for me to hate her, or even dislike her, she’d said things in the past, but she was doing that because we’d done the same thing, and she’d never hooked up with my ex-boyfriend.
“Prom is only a few months away,” Kirsten reminded us.
I’d have to finish my art work before I’d even think about prom, although my work was inspired by it. So I thought about prom a lot. Everything else took a backseat, even replying to text messages.
“How are you doing the ballots?” I finally asked.
“There’ll be pre-votes a week before prom, then the top four girls and the top four guys are put on the main ballot. This isn’t a couple’s vote; you vote for who you want. We can fix that, but you’ll win,” Mila said.
Brittany and Delilah joined us after fourth period.
“I’ve just seen Char,” Delilah said. “Is it me, or are her ankles swelling?” she laughed.
“They’re recruiting for the cheer squad again,” Brittany added, giving me the poster. “I think Char’s gonna quit, unless she wants it popping out while doing handsprings.”
“Brit,” I said, “you’re in class with Bex, right?” She nodded. “Bex is assistant cheer captain, if anything happens to Char, she takes over.”
“We’ve never spoke,” Brittany said.
“Me and Bex go way back,” Kristen said. “She’s got a bad side, y’know. Plus, she doesn’t like Char either.”
“At the moment, who does like her,” Heather laughed.
“She’s gone too far, for too long,” I mumbled.
We gathered around in a circle. Although I’d moved from one group to another, there was something equal about this group, the only sense of entitlement came from Mila as the president of the student body.
“In a few weeks we’ll be doing headshots for the yearbook,” Mila said, she pulled out a small notebook. “I’ve got facial swelling written down here,” she said.
“Does pregnancy do that?” Heather asked.
“Probably, but so does Photoshop,” Brittany added.
Mila scrolled her finger down a few more lines, voicing more suggestions, whether it’d been done before, and no matter how ridiculous they sounded, she said them. “I know the woman who does most of Char’s dresses from her pageant days, maybe she’s doing her prom dress too.”
“Someone will have to tailor it,” I said. “She’s jumping from a zero to an eighteen.”
“Is she having twins?” Kirsten laughed.
“Get her to make the dress tighter.”
Brittany snapped her fingers. “Maybe she won’t show up.”
I rolled my eyes. “We can’t have that,” I said. “She needs to show up.”
“She will, just not in the dress she’d dreamed of,” Mila said. “After trying to pin that punch bowl poisoning on us, she deserves it.”
I hated being part of that. I knew the truth; they’d tried to blame them.
“Sorry,” I said.
“It’s fine,” Mila laughed. “They had nothing on us.”
Heather flicked her hair back. “So, when’s the baby due?”
The question killed me inside, hit me with a sucker punch to the stomach. “They screwed each other in November.”
“So.” Kirsten counted on her fingers. “August.”
“She looks heavier,” Brittany said. “Are you sure?”
“There’s only so many hoodies she can wear before she’s in a sack,” Mila said.
I had a nagging suspicion Char would be one of those parents who didn’t put on any weight when they were pregnant, like an episode of HELP! I DIDN’T KNOW I WAS PREGNANT, where the skinniest girl at school drops to the floor in the middle of class to find she’s about to give birth.
Chapter Twenty-Five
My mom left a note on the fridge to say she’d taken Maddie to the supermarket with her. They weren’t going to be home for another hour at least. On the note was also the plan for dinner, she’d planned on making pasta carbonara since my dad was coming back from Europe.
I stomped up the stairs to confront Kaleb, something had to have happened for Ava to believe we hooked up. I knocked on his door before storming inside. He was wrapped in a towel, laying on the bed looking up at the ceiling. That was probably why Ava thought we hooked up.
Covering my eyes with a hand. “You broke up with Ava?”
Soft laughter came from him. “Why are you covering your eyes?”
Moving my hands, I huffed. “Did you tell her we hooked up?”
“No,” he laughed again, “why?”
“Apparently she thinks that’s why you broke up with her,” I said.
He stood from the bed and flexed. Above his navel there was a silvery scar. I looked past to see the towel wrapped loosely, almost like he was directing my eyes. I shifted my gaze back to his face and held my hands up. “I never knew she’d slept with my brother,” he said. “I didn’t tell her that, but it made me uncomfortable, and I—I didn’t want to give that excuse.”
I’d forgot he’d found out. I’d told him at the New Year’s Eve party. “Sorry,” I said.
He sat, deflated. “She told you she thought I cheated?”
“She said we might as well have hooked up,” I said, sitting beside him.
“You are single now,” he laughed.
It was awkward. I turned slightly. “Can I ask you a question?” He nodded. “How did you get your scar?”
“This one?” he pointed to his abdomen. He rested back on his elbows and flexed the stomach muscles again. “From a fire about five years ago, it was a piece of really hot metal that cut through my clothes.”
“Holy shit!”
He grinned. “I got out alive.”
“What happened?”
“You know I had a shitty life,” he said. “Brought up to do what my brothers told me, and, part of
that meant burning buildings down for insurance money.”
“That’s not true,” I said. “Is it?”
He nodded. Glossy tears covered his eyes. He inhaled. “It was infected,” he added. “They wouldn’t let me go to the hospital. It was expensive, and they’d ask me how I got it.”
I grabbed his hand. “It’s okay,” I said, squeezing it. “Did you get back at them? And there’s been worse things they’ve done?”
He nodded. “It’s not always about that, your mom’s taught me there’s good in the world, and I don’t want to bring trouble for your mom. All she’s given to me.”
“You helped me get back at Dylan,” I said. “And compared to what you’ve been through; I don’t think your brothers should get away with it.”
“I’m learning to deal with the anger.”
I understood that. If there was one thing I understood in these past few weeks, it was anger and pain, but it only cut the surface of what Kaleb had been through. I squeezed his hand again, and he squeezed back. I craned my neck to his and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
We kissed, back and forth, getting heavier. A fire burned inside, an electricity in my fingers as the palms of my hands sweat, I grabbed a hold of his torso.
“Zoey! Kaleb! I’m home,” my mom called.
Immediately, I jumped back, almost rolling from the bed. I glanced back at Kaleb, he shuffled on the bed, taking a tight grasp of his towel.
“Sorry.” I walked out, looking back only slightly as I closed the door.
“Are you up there?”
“Yeah,” I called, “is dad there with you?”
“No. Should be here in an hour or so.”
Kaleb walked out of his room, pulling a t-shirt over his head. “That was close,” he whispered to me. “What was it?”
I didn’t have an answer. My heart still pounding, almost a prophecy Ava set in motion. I pounded a fist on his shoulder gently. “I don’t think that can happen again,” I said.
“Why not?” he said. “It was the most excitement I’ve felt.”
I smiled. “Excitement? Get back at your brothers,” I said. “That could be exciting.”
“Is Kaleb up there with you?” my mom shouted.
“Yeah, I’m up here Mrs. Jensen,” he called back.
I opened my bedroom door as Oreo ran in. Kaleb followed me inside.
“I haven’t told you yet. What I’ve got planned for Char,” I said.
“Her windows too?” he laughed.
“Not too loud.”
“So, what’s your plan?” he asked, sitting at my computer chair. He stroked Oreo’s back. “How bad is it?”
I laughed and sucked in a deep breath. “We’re fixing prom,” I said, the grin on my face growing wider. “So I need to choose an extra special dress, and Char’s going to blow up like a balloon with being pregnant.”
“Oh,” he said. “I thought you were going deep.”
“Like?”
“Steal her clothes, shave her hair, have a man walk behind her shouting shame,” he said.
“This isn’t Game of Thrones,” I said. “I wouldn’t even compare her to Cersei, although when we watched it, she definitely identified with her the most. Bitch.”
He was silent for a moment, glaring at me, looking at me in thought. His lips parted to speak and his eyes squinted slightly. “I’ve been thinking.”
“All three seconds?”
He chuckled to himself. “Yeah. About getting back at my brothers.”
I nodded. “I told you I’ll help.”
“Burn that bar down,” he said. “That’s all they have.”
“Oh.”
“It’s crazy,” he said. “I know, but you gave me something the other night. I want to feel that again. Okay, it’s not smashing windows and they say play with fire and you’ll get burnt.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to physically hurt anyone,” I said, picking at my fingernails. “Maybe just smash their windows a little.”
“I know when they’re all out, I even have keys now,” he said. “And what better way at getting back at them than taking everything they have.” He took a breathy gasp. “Like they did to me.”
“You own part of the bar now.” I laid back on my bed and gazed up at the ceiling. “But I’m in,” I said. “I’m not going inside, and I’m not coming home smelling of smoke.”
“I do, but it’s not really mine, none of it. You sure?”
“If this helps,” I said, turning my head to him. “Then yeah.”
He jumped on the bed beside me and kissed me on the lips. He lingered for a moment. I liked it. I didn’t want him to leave, or I was still clinging to the need of having someone to be with in the way Dylan had been.
“They’re out in over a week,” he said. “We’ve got time to get ready.”
Neither of us mentioned the kiss, and we didn’t kiss again. Part of me wanted more, and the other part wanted to climb back under a comforter and scrape the bottom of an empty ice cream sundae.
Kaleb’s brothers’ bar, the Fat Cat had a flashing Cheshire cat smile and a winking eye. It was all kinds of cheesy and creepy. I’d been there several times before, with Char and the other girls. This time, I drove by it a couple times to remember. The sleazy men in their rusted pick-up trucks with cheap whores as they danced circles around their wallets.
It was almost time. Kaleb insisted we take his bike again, wearing all black. It was 1 AM when we rolled the bike out of the garage. Kaleb packed a bag full of lighter fuel and matches. We were rogue vigilantes, preparing for battle.
“You sure?” I asked him as he handed me a helmet.
“I’m sure,” he said. “Are you?”
“I’m ready.”
It was black out, including the sign for the Fat Cat bar, the only sign read CLOSED. It was Wednesday. The only night of the week it was closed, and Kaleb’s brothers were both out in San Francisco at a party.
“Nobody’s home,” he said, throwing gravel as he parked the bike in the empty lot outside the bar. “Like I said.”
I locked eyes with the security cameras above the door. “Do they?” I pointed.
“They haven’t worked since they were installed,” he said. “Mainly to stop thieves trying to break in.”
I almost asked who’d want to steal from them, but I held my tongue. We moved the bike around the building to the apartment door. All the living space was on the floor above. We moved quietly, even though there was nobody around for miles. We unzipped the bag with everything inside.
“Have you taken your stuff out?” I asked as he unbolted the front door.
“Ages ago,” he said. “We never had family photos or anything, so nothing sentimental.” He flicked the switch on for the lights at the bottom of the stairs. From the foot of the stairs, the path was lit.
“My mom has lots of pictures anyway,” I smiled. “We need to be as quick as possible.” I twist the watch on my wrist. It was 1:32 AM. “What’s the plan?”
He laughed. “It’s going to smell like gasoline,” he said. “So once we’re done, I’ll throw these clothes away, or I’ll be in the line-up at the precinct tomorrow morning.” He laughed again at the comment, but I wasn’t too sure it was funny.
“I can’t have that,” I said. “You can’t get caught.”
He smiled. “This isn’t the first time I’ve done this, Zo,” he said. “Remember.”
I’d seen the scars. The smell of fuel filtered through the air as he uncapped it. “Where did you get the gasoline from?”
“What do you mean?” He turned before heading up the stairs.
“They just sold you that stuff?”
He laughed. “Pretty much!”
I left him to continue as I covered my mouth with the sleeve over my hand. The sound of gas glugging as he poured it over everything, the splash as it chugged out of bottles on the floor.
“Is that it?” I shouted up the stairs. “C’mon, it’s cold out.”
�
�It’s gonna heat up soon,” he shouted back, poking his head out of the hallway. “Any minute now!”
The smell was strong, sharp as it hit the back of my throat. I coughed on the fumes. I noticed the bright amber light reflect on the walls. It flickered. I took a couple steps back to see the same light, flickering in the windows of the apartment.
He jumped down the stairs with a bag swinging on one shoulder. “I stole a few things too,” he said. “Things my parents gave them.”
“They’re yours now,” I said.
“They should’ve always been mine,” he smiled, shutting the front door and wiping the door handle with a sleeve. “Let’s go.”
“Agreed.” I grabbed the helmet.
“We should stop somewhere, maybe a gas station to get changed.”
Kaleb made sure to pack extra clothes. He changed in a gas station bathroom. I sprayed myself with perfumes, but I wasn’t getting changed until I was home. We passed several fire trucks headed to the bar.
“Hope it burns down before they get to it,” Kaleb said.
“I’m sure it will,” I said. I could feel his heart racing as I wrapped my arms tight around him. This was nothing compared to Dylan, there was no adventure, only a continuous cycle of the same, but it was safe. Dylan was safe. I’d enjoyed that about him. The beating in my chest, the thunder racing in my heart that Kaleb gave me wouldn’t compare.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The fire department never came that day, or the day after, they never came at all. Kaleb worried they’d be here with the police and take him away. They were far from it, they would’ve thought it was an insurance job, it had been done in the past.
Kaleb was called when both his brothers were in custody. He ignored their calls and was happier for of it. I’d noticed smiles for no apparent reason, sitting at the dining table with my younger sister, doing his homework.
“Honey,” my mom called out to me from the kitchen before school. Standing at the counter. “Have you decided on your birthday?”
I shrugged. I was turning 18 in a few days. “Can we open the pool?”
“And a barbeque?”
“I’ll invite some friends over.”
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