Just Wreck It All
Page 20
“I know them,” said Anna. “We were recently arrested together.”
Bett nearly spit-laughed. So did Stephanie.
“Bett is beyond the coolest, Anna,” Stephanie said, and put her arm around Bett’s waist. “Are you the Anna who made stuff out of the art that got messed up here?”
“I am,” said Anna.
Stephanie’s eyes went bright. “Whoa! Bett texted me a picture of the wings you made on the wall. They were gorgeous.”
Anna grinned. “Thanks a lot. I just can’t stand seeing destroyed stuff not made into something beautiful, you know?”
“Well, I make stuff as well,” Stephanie told her. “Can I help with the statue? And maybe do something with the devil drawings, too?”
Oh, no. Bett hadn’t had time to tell Stephanie the truth about those yet.
Anna looked at Bett and Dan. “What if Mutt didn’t do those?” she mused. “He keeps saying he didn’t.”
“Of course he did,” said Stephanie. “Fits the profile.” And she slapped Bett’s hand five for using cop language.
Bett felt a pang of guilt as she slapped Stephanie’s hand, but then she thought of Ranger. He’s only twelve, for God’s sake. And he thought he was helping. And Mutt’s punishment—it wouldn’t change even if Mr. McLean knew Mutt didn’t do the drawings.
“I’m not sure,” said Anna, glancing at Bett and Dan again.
But Stephanie interrupted, “Your wings were so cool, Anna,” she said. “What if—well, what about us making more and figuring out how to bronze them and getting them mounted on the statue?”
Anna’s eyes went wide. “That’s a fabulous idea. I bet the shop teacher would help us.”
Dan was nodding enthusiastically. “I bet the whole shop class would. I could ask. We love that shit.”
“And let’s leave all the hatchet marks on the statue where they are,” said Anna. “To represent the wounds the troops suffered. And what about vines growing out of one of the man’s eyes? I’m addicted to these online videos that this girl in Rayfen does. She makes these insanely cool ones about these incredible Blythe dolls, and for one she made a flower and—”
Stephanie stopped dead. “Blythe dolls?” she said. “That’s me! Those videos are me! I can’t believe you watch them!”
“You are Rayfenetta? Oh my God! YOU ARE A GENIUS! Those dolls! They are the best!”
They were the best. Bett knew. Stephanie may have lost an eye, but Bett had certainly been keeping one on her through the Rayfenetta videos.
“Shut up!” cried Stephanie to Anna now.
“I will not shut up,” said Anna.
“I’ll make a doll just for you.”
Bett blinked hard, embarrassed at the surge of jealousy she felt. Anna and Stephanie friends, too? But she tried to swallow it down and listened to the two of them talk, intense and focused with lots to say.
“Oh, I can’t afford it,” said Anna. “Don’t call me a stalker, but I know how much your dolls go for on Etsy.”
“Yeah, they’re expensive. They’ll put me through college,” said Stephanie matter-of-factly. “But what if we just exchange work? Artist to artist?”
“Really?”
“Sure! What kind of doll do you want?”
“Can I have one you already made?” asked Anna. “The warrior with the woven metal breastplate?”
“No,” Steph said unexpectedly. “Not that one. She’s my Valkyrie . . . I am so sorry, but she’s for Bett.”
“A Valkyrie?” Bett said. The wisp of jealousy dissolved instantly. “For me?”
“Yup,” said Stephanie. “Because you are my badass goddess sister.”
Bett fought not to blush as her eyes welled. For a badass she sure had overwelling eyes. She and Stephanie slapped hands.
“Can I have the stone sprite with wings instead?” Anna asked.
“Sure. And I want something you make out of broken glass. I have a pile of it at home if you need it.”
“Thank you,” said Anna. “I feel like I’m in a dream. I’m collaborating with Rayfenetta.”
Stephanie laughed. “I’ve never actually heard anyone say my handle out loud before.”
Anna laughed back, and she and Stephanie continued to talk about their art and making things, hard and fast.
Ranger passed by, clearly not knowing what to do with himself. “Ranger”? Bett called to him. “Do you have a Sharpie?”
Ranger beamed. “I always do,” he said, and handed it to her out of his hoodie pocket.
Bett tugged Dan down on the cold grass beside her and put one ankle on the opposite leg to write on the sole that Dan couldn’t see.
COMPASSION, she wrote, and traced the letters until they felt permanent. And then over COMPASSION, she wrote PERMISSION. And beside the palimpsest of words she wrote TO SURVIVE.
Dan reached over and took the Sharpie from Bett. And, hoisting his own foot over his knee, he wrote four letters on his sneaker sole.
Bett swallowed. She was not going to presume.
Dan sighed. “Don’t make me say ‘I like you, Bett.’ It’ll make me feel like I’m Ranger’s age.”
Bett was surprised into silence. Dan’s face fell.
“I mean, I know you probably like that Bill guy,” he said hastily. “I remember you wrote his name on your sneaker when we were younger.”
“You noticed that?” said Bett, now doubly surprised.
“You used to stick your feet up on my desk all the time when we did that Social Studies project in ninth grade,” said Dan. “I saw a lot of shit you wrote on those sneakers.”
Then Bett raised the other foot, the one that Dan could see, and wrote three letters on that one.
“Ranger,” Dan called out, “why don’t you go get one of those sparklers?”
“Okaycakes,” said Ranger, and fairly ran to the girl distributing the sparklers. He took one and dashed as far away from Dan and Bett as he could.
NOW
BETT BROUGHT STEPHANIE AND THE others over to the basement hole where they had planned the Art Attack and where Eddie had thrown Mutt’s phone, and they all crawled down inside to look around. But now Bett was pulling Stephanie back out of the hole, hand over wrist and up over the lip. The others followed and then all seven of them beat it up the rest of the dirt slope and ran—streaked it across I Know a Guy Field like coyotes were chasing them, and Bett loved it, the words on her soles pounding into every beat of her heart, overlapping the beats just as they overlapped on her feet. The seven kids flew across the street and paused at the top of the slope to the river. Of course Hugh Munin was down there in his waders, nightfishing. But clumps of kids were dotting the shore here and there, too, and now the seven of them were up here, Bett leading them, and she was ready, ready to jump high off the slope so it felt like flying to burst and land amidst the kids down there making cairns and doing who knew what else, but it didn’t matter because Bett was there, ready to take Dan’s hand and fly down the slope to the rushing water below and let things happen next.
“. . . Woden took nine twigs of glory, and then struck the adder so it flew into nine. There archived apple and poison that it would never re-enter the house.”
—adapted from Bill Griffith’s translation of The Nine Herbs Charm
Acknowledgments
There are always so many people to cherish and thank in the making of a book. Here is who I cherish and thank for this one: Caitlyn, Linda, Ariel, Kristin, Tobin, Adrienne, Ann, Jen, Kelley, Allen, Jane, Darsa, Miriam, Hannah, Susan, Lana, MaryAnn, Bridie, Tate, Coco, Elana, Samantha, Carol P., and Leah W.
About the Author
N. Griffin is the author of The Whole Stupid Way We Are, for which she was named a Publishers Weekly Flying Start author, as well as Smashie McPerter and the Mystery of Room 11 and Smashie McPerter and the Mystery of the Missing Goop. She received her MFA from the Vermont College of Fine Arts and lives in Seattle. She has a lot of dogs, and you can visit her at ngriffin.com.
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A Caitlyn Dlouhy Book
Atheneum Books for Young Readers
Simon & Schuster, New York
Also by N. Griffin
The Whole Stupid Way We Are
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2018 by N. Griffin
Jacket collage copyright © 2018 by Ophelia Chong
Jacket photograph copyright © 2018 by Thinkstock
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Griffin, N., author.
Title: Just wreck it all / N. Griffin.
Description: First edition. | New York : A Caitlyn Dlouhy Book/Atheneum, [2018] | Summary: “Crippled with guilt after causing a horrific accident two years earlier, sixteen-year-old Bett’s life is a series of pluses and minuses. But when the pluses become too much to outweigh the minuses, Bett is forced to confront her self-harming behavior”— Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018008167 | ISBN 9781481465182 (hardback) | ISBN 9781481465205 (eBook)
Subjects: | CYAC: Guilt—Fiction. | Compulsive eating—Fiction. | Eating disorders—Fiction. | Overweight persons—Fiction. | Self-mutilation—Fiction. | High schools—Fiction. | Schools—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.G88135934 Jus 2018 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018008167