The Complete Burn for Burn Trilogy: Burn for Burn; Fire With Fire; Ashes to Ashes (4 page)

My mom waves at us from the front door. I wave back.

“So are you yay or nay on the twenties party?” Rennie asks me.

I honestly don’t care, but I know my answer matters to her—which is why I feel like saying nay.

But before I can, Nadia is at the car, her hair sopping wet. She’s got on her new jeans and the black top the three of us bought together when we went shopping back in July. That feels like forever ago.

She climbs into the backseat. I twist around and say, “You should have dried your hair, Nadi. You know you always get colds when you go around with wet hair.”

Breathlessly she says, “I was scared you guys would leave without me.”

“We wouldn’t leave you!” Rennie cries, turning the wheel. “We’re your big sisters. We’ll always look out for you, honey bun.”

Something nasty is on the tip of my tongue, and I swallow hard to keep from saying it. If I say it, we’ll never be the same again. Even worse than now.

We pull around our circular driveway and down the road.

“Cheerleading practice is at four,” Rennie reminds me, bouncing in her seat to the music. “Don’t be late. We need to evaluate the fresh meat. See what we’ve got to work with. Did you remember to bring your mini camcorder so we can tape them?”

I open my bag and look, even though I know it’s not there. “I forgot.”

“Lil! I wanted to evaluate them later tonight in HD.” Rennie lets out a grumbly sigh, like she’s disappointed in me.

I shrug my shoulders. “We’ll deal.” That’s what we’re doing right now, isn’t it? Dealing? But Rennie’s clearly better at it than me.

“Nadi, who’s the prettiest of all your friends?” Rennie asks.

“Patrice,” Nadia says.

Rennie makes a left, and we pass the small rental cottages that
populate Canobie Bluffs. I focus on one in particular. There’s a caretaker outside closing it up for the season, now that it’s empty. I think it’s Reeve’s dad. He’s bolting the shutters on the first floor windows. He hasn’t gotten to the master bedroom yet. Those ones are still wide open.

I turn my head away, and out of the corner of my eye, I look at Rennie. Just to see if she has noticed it too. But there’s nothing there—no recognition, no alarm, nothing.

“Nadi, you’re so much prettier than Patrice. FYI, I’m only taking the cream of the crop for the varsity squad,” Rennie says. “Let me know if there’s anyone you want to cheer for, and I’ll hook it up.”

Immediately Nadia says, “Alex. Can I cheer for Alex?”

Rennie gasps. “Ooh! You better ask your sister. He’s her boy toy.”

“Rennie, be quiet.” I say it more snappishly than I intended, and she makes a face to Nadia in her rearview mirror. I take a breath. “Nadia, there’s a whole line of junior and senior girls ahead of you for Alex. We can’t show favoritism like that. I mean, how would it look, us giving a senior starter to a freshman? Besides, you still have to try out. You haven’t made the squad yet.”

At this, Rennie nods. “Lil’s right. I mean, you’re basically
in but we have to treat you the same as everybody else. Even though you’re clearly special.” Nadia wriggles in her seat like a puppy. “Oh, and make sure to tell your friends that if they’re even one minute late, they’re going to be sent home. Period. As captain I need to set the tone for this season.”

“Got it,” Nadia says.

“Good girl. You’re going to be our freshman star.”

I feel like I am floating above myself as I say, “She needs to work on her back handspring. It’s weak.”

It gets really quiet.

I flip down my visor to look at Nadia. The corners of her mouth are turned down, her dark eyes hurt.

Why did I say that?

I know how badly she wants to make the squad. We practiced all summer, back handsprings and tumbling and stunts and our routines. I told Nadia that when Rennie graduates, it will be her on the top of that pyramid. I told her she’ll be set at Jar High. Just like her big sis.

But now I’m not so sure I want her to be anything like me or Rennie. Not anymore.

CHAPTER TWO

KAT

I
CLIMB OVER THE CHAIN-LINK FENCE THAT SURROUNDS
the Jar Island High parking lot. Alex’s SUV is parked near the football field, shiny and freshly washed for the first day of school. I try to ignore that my heart is pumping triple time, filling my chest, my throat, my ears with heat.

*   *   *

Saturday was my eighteenth birthday.
I spent the night at my kitchen table, doing whiskey shots with my brother, Pat, and eating the frozen chocolate cake Dad had picked up from the supermarket.

“Oh, Judy.” My dad said it after every shot, as if she were sitting at the table, knocking them back with us. “Look at our baby girl.”

“I’m a woman now,” I corrected.

“One hell of a woman,” he added, and nudged his shot glass forward for a refill.

“Eww, Dad. That’s gross,” Pat said, and poured us another round.

Alex was supposed to come home that day, but I wasn’t sure when. Or if he’d call. I wouldn’t let myself think about it. I’d wasted too much brain power on him already.

I spent most of the week Alex was gone going over and over what happened on our last night together. Unlike the band guys I meet at Kim’s place, I didn’t have to worry about how far things with Alex would go, but it was still really hot, the way he took charge. And it was so taboo, him and me together. We were never supposed to become friends, never mind make out all over his uncle’s multimillion-dollar yacht.

I knew for a fact that Rennie would give Alex so much shit if she knew we hooked up. I was sure I’d get it too, from Rennie, from Reeve, from everyone. Not that either of us thought about that when we were going at it. But it had to
have occurred to him afterward, the same way it had for me.

And then he texted me.

Welcome home party at my place. Stop by if you’re not doing anything.

I pushed back my chair. Pat said, “What are you smiling about?”

I barely heard him. I was thinking about my black lace top with my cut-offs, but then I was like, what if his parents are there? I should probably wear something classy.

I sat back down. What was I getting so crazy over? It was one night. I needed to pump my breaks.

I shut off my phone and told my brother to pour me another whiskey shot.

Around one in the morning I was officially drunk. My dad had gone to bed and Pat was passed out on the living room floor. Our dog Shep was scratching at the back door with his paw, so I grabbed his leash and took him for a walk.

Of course I ended up at Alex’s house. Even though White Haven was a good six miles from T-Town.

There had definitely been a party, but it was long over. Plastic cups and trash were scattered around the path leading to the backyard. There was music on, the bad dance-y crap that’s
always on the radio, but the volume was turned way down. The lights around the pool were off. There was food sitting out, bowls of chips and a plate of uneaten hamburgers, guacamole turning brown, cups filled with melted pink drinks and paper umbrellas. There were other decorations too. Fishing nets, tiki torches, conch shells. A rumpled-looking captain’s hat hung on a fence post. I heard Shep chewing on something he’d found on the ground. I had to wrestle it out of his mouth. A plastic pirate eye patch.

I walked over to the pool house where Alex stays and peered in through a window to see if he was awake.

He was asleep in his bed, lying on his side, on top of the sheets. Some of the copper in his hair had turned lighter, like the color of sand. And he was tan. Tan with freckles.

He looked so cute, it took me a second to notice the small body curled up in the sheets next to him.

*   *   *

I pass the fountain on my way into school. Alex is there, standing with his friends. Rennie and Lillia are both dressed for the first day of school in some stupid movie. Lillia’s got a lollipop in her mouth. That GoodyTwo-shoes has a serious oral fixation. And Rennie. Just the way she stands in her heels, one hip out to the
side, hand on her back, pushing her pathetically small chest out as far as it can go, I can tell she’s ready to own the school, now that she’s a senior. She’s been waiting for this moment her whole freaking life.

Alex turns his head, and our eyes meet. I wonder for a second if he’ll pretend not to see me. Which would be fine. But he doesn’t. He comes right over, all smiles.

“Kat,” he says. “Hey, happy birthday.”

It catches me off guard, that he remembered. And that he celebrated it with another girl in his bed. I have no clue who it was. Not that it matters. “Sorry I couldn’t make your party. Did you have a good time?” I ask, trying not to sound jealous of the girl that he hooked up with instead of me.

“Not really.” Alex shrugs. “I didn’t even know there was going to be a party. It was all Rennie. She was just looking for a reason to have a party.”

Rennie? So Rennie was behind his party? It made sense. Those tacky ass decorations and crap. And it’s not like she could invite the whole school over to her mom’s two-bedroom condo.

Alex keeps going. “Apparently she got Lillia to ask my mom if they could have the party at our house. She had my dad at the grill, cooking steaks. There were a ton of people there, and everyone
was in costume. My dad was in a freaking scuba suit. You know how good Rennie is with parents.” Alex shakes his head, rueful. “She got pissed at me when I wouldn’t wear a sailor hat.”

“Wait,” I say. “There were costumes?”

“Yeah. Rennie was a mermaid.”

I grit my teeth. Of course she was.
The Little Mermaid
was the only game Rennie wanted to play in Lillia’s pool when we were kids. “Sounds fun,” I say, really sarcastic, and then try to step around him.

“Like I said before,
not really
.” He steps in my way and lowers his voice. “Wait. Are you mad at me? You did get my text, right?”

I look him hard in the eyes and say, “Why would you invite me to one of Rennie’s parties?” He knows our history. Everyone does. And I’d like to ask a follow-up question, about the girl in his bed, but I get distracted by what I see over his shoulder.

Rennie is watching us.

“Al-ex!” she calls out in a singsong voice. “Can you come here for a sec?”

“Alex is busy,” I say. “And you shouldn’t interrupt people who are
tal-king
!” I singsong back.

Rennie sighs. She grabs Lillia’s hand and pulls her up from
where she’s sitting on the fountain edge. “Come on, Alex. We need to talk to you.” But Lillia shakes herself free.

Alex glances over his shoulder. Annoyed, he says, “How about I just call you later.”

I wave him off. “Whatever.” Because I don’t want to get into this now, with everyone watching us.

“I’ll hit you up after football practice,” he says as he walks backward away from me.

I hear Rennie say to him, “What were you even talking to her about? Are you trying to hire her to clean your uncle’s yacht?”

Alex starts to say no, but Rennie cuts him off. “You have to be careful, Lindy. I mean, you can’t just let whoever on his boat. What would happen if she took something?”

I feel my whole body go stiff. Rennie’s the one who liked to shoplift. Mostly makeup from the drugstore, but sometimes a shirt or a bracelet from one of the Main Street shops. I used to be her lookout.

Rennie has spread a hundred rumors about me over the years—how my dad is a meth dealer and he’s grooming my brother, Pat, for the family business; how I once tried to French kiss her at a sleepover; and how she looked into getting a restraining order because I stalked her when she stopped being friends with me.
All kinds of lies, just so she could have something interesting to say. I didn’t even care enough to set the record straight. It was hilarious, what a huge liar she was. She actually believed her own bullshit. Anyway, it wouldn’t have mattered what I said. People were going to believe what they wanted to believe.

Only now, for whatever reason, I don’t want Alex thinking I’m some low-life dirtbag.

Over his shoulder Rennie gives me a pleased buh-bye wave.

Before I can even think about what I’m doing, I’m running to catch up to them. Once I do, I lower my shoulder and bump into Rennie as hard as I possibly can.

CHAPTER THREE

MARY

W
HEN
I
WOKE UP THIS MORNING,
I
HAD BUTTERFLIES IN
my stomach. Lots of them. This is the day I’ve been waiting for.

I coast through Middlebury and pick up the bike path along the edge of the water where the shore turns rocky at the start of Canobie Bluffs. At the sharpest cliff the path curls into the woods. It’s cool here, under the pine trees, and I like the quiet sound my tires make slipping against the sandy trail.

Aunt Bette was still asleep when it was time for me to leave, but luckily my old yellow Schwinn was in the garage and in pretty much perfect condition. Not even dusty.