The Complete Burn for Burn Trilogy: Burn for Burn; Fire With Fire; Ashes to Ashes (53 page)

I can’t stop thinking about what Kat said —
how Reeve isn’t sorry, how he was only saying he was to
impress me. She made a good point. Why didn’t he apologize to
Mary when he had the chance? But then I remember the way he
looked at me, how he cried like a little kid, and I feel sure that
he was telling the truth. And who else could he have hurt worse
than Mary?

Only it doesn’t matter, either way. Because it isn’t my responsibility to make Reeve apologize. Or to try and figure out if he’s
sorry for what he did. My loyalty lies with my friend. I have to
get Reeve back for what he did to Mary. That’s all. An eye for
an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

A broken heart for a broken heart.
We’re supposed to meet at Java Jones at noon. I’m planning to
finish up my AP English essay on mother figures within the works
of Shakespeare, which is due Monday. I packed a CD-ROM of
timed practice SAT questions for Reeve to work on. He’s already
blown through the two test workbooks I let him borrow.
I decide to go to Java Jones an hour early, because this essay
isn’t going to write itself, and to make sure we score a good table
near an outlet, so we can plug in our laptops in case we run out
of battery. Luckily, the one I want is free when I get there. I put
my princess coat on the back of a chair and my laptop bag on
the other. Then I order a hot chocolate with whipped cream and
a peppermint stick at the counter. While I’m looking through
my change purse, my phone begins to buzz.
It’s a text. From Reeve.
Leg is pretty sore this morning. Don’t
think I can make it. Sorry. :(
I frown like the face in his text. I keep telling him that he
needs to make sure he’s not overexerting himself in the weight
room. You can’t rush physical therapy. You need to be patient.
My uncle broke his ankle running two years ago, and he finished his physical therapy like one week early, and he says his
ankle still bothers him when it rains.
I’ve opened up a text to write him back when I see Reeve
drive past the front window in his truck.
What the—?
I get my things from the table and leave behind my hot chocolate on my table, to save my spot. “I’ll be right back,” I tell the
barista and step outside. The sun is bright, and I have to shield
my eyes with my hand. For a second I think I’ve lost him, but
then I catch sight of Reeve’s truck making a left into the ferry
parking lot.
I hustle down the sidewalk. I’m mad, but I’m trying to stay
calm. Maybe he’s picking up one of his brothers? I send Reeve
an innocent text back.
Should I swing by? We can study at your
place.
As soon as I hit send, my heart fills my throat, because I
have this terrible feeling that he’s about to lie to me.
He doesn’t text me back right away, which gives me a chance
to catch up to him.
When I get to the parking lot, I’m careful to keep camouflaged behind trees and the ticket booth. Reeve’s parked his
truck in line with the cars waiting to drive aboard the next ferry.
I’m close enough to see him looking at his phone; he’s probably
reading my text. He writes me back.
I think I should take it easy
and ice it for now. I’ll text you later if it feels better.
My body goes cold. Kat and Mary were one thousand percent right. Reeve’s not a trustworthy guy, not at all. I’m so
mad at myself for falling for it when I know better.
Reeve doesn’t see me coming. He’s fiddling with his radio.
I can hear the music as I get closer. It’s hip hop, the volume
turned way up. And he’s drumming his hands on the steering
wheel. Whoever he’s off to see, he’s sure pumped.
I knock so hard on the glass my knuckles hurt. Reeve startles, and when he sees that it’s me, his jaw drops. He fumbles
to turn the radio off and then tries to get his window to roll
down.
“Hey, there,” I say, all fake sweet. “So nice to see that your
leg’s better.” I drop the act, let my smile go flat. “Don’t bother
texting me later. Or any other day.” I walk away.
I hear his truck door open and then slam shut, his feet pounding the pavement. I’m speed walking as fast as I can, but Reeve
must be sprinting, even with his bum leg. I let my laptop bag fall
on the ground; I don’t even care. I don’t want to look at him.
Before I know it, Reeve wraps his arms around me from
behind.
“Let me go!” I try and break out of his bear hug, but his
hands are locked around me.
“Lillia, wait a second!”
I don’t wait. I struggle and wriggle to get free until I have no
strength left. “Let go of me!” I shriek.
Some of the people in the parking lot have stopped to watch
us. “You’re making a scene!” he hisses. He’s right. I don’t want
the cops to come; I just want him to let go of me. The only way
he’ll do that is if I stop.
“Please, Lillia.” I go limp and he drops his arms.
I’m panting as I turn around to face him. “Care to explain
why you lied to me?”
Reeve sets his jaw. “No. Not particularly.” He walks back a
few steps and picks up my laptop bag.
I feel something mean bubble up in my throat. The overwhelming urge to tell Reeve everything, how I’ve been only
hanging out with him to hurt him for Mary. How it’s all a lie.
I’ve been pretending to like him, when in actuality he disgusts
me.
But I can’t, because those words won’t mean anything. They
won’t hurt him. Because if Reeve did care, he wouldn’t have lied
to me so he could sneak off to see some other girl.
“Tell me where you’re going.” I know I sound jealous. And
I hate it.
He hands my laptop bag back to me. “It’s better if I don’t.”
I snatch it from his hands and hear the bits of broken plastic
shake around. It’s broken.
I feel the sting of tears, and my vision blurs. “I hope this
other girl knows a thing or two about the SATs. Or else maybe
she doesn’t care that you won’t get into college!” I think of all
the time I’ve wasted, trying to help Reeve. I should have stuck
to the damn plan. I bet I could have kissed him weeks ago.
Reeve’s face goes blank. “You think I’m going to see another
girl?”
I walk away.
He’s following me again. He speeds up so that he’s standing
in my way. “Fine, you want to know where I’m going?” He
fishes something out of his pocket. A piece of paper. He hands
it to me.
I wipe my eyes so I can read it. There are two names written
down, and neither of them are girls’ names. And an address for
a fraternity house at UMass.
I look up at him, because it doesn’t make sense.
His mouth is set in a grim line. “I’m going to whoop those
fuckers’ asses.” And then he starts walking back toward his truck.
It takes me a second to put it together. “Oh my God,” I say,
staring down at the paper. At the names. Ian Rosenberg and
Michael Fenelli. “Oh my God.”
And then it’s me who’s chasing him. “Are you crazy?” I
scream.
Reeve doesn’t slow down. “I’m an idiot for not thinking of
it sooner. That house those turkeys rented, it was one of the
ones my dad manages. All I had to do was look up the address,
and boom. I found their addresses, their phone numbers, their
birthdays. I’m going up there, and I’m going to make them
wish they never, ever laid eyes on you and Rennie.”
“I don’t want you to do that!” The ferry horn sounds and the
cars waiting to drive aboard start their engines. “I don’t want
you going anywhere near them!”
Reeve opens his door. “Why?” he demands. “You don’t think
they deserve it?”
I struggle to answer him. Because as much as it was the guys,
it was my fault too. I was the one who went to a stranger’s
house. I was the one who got too drunk. I was the one who created the situation where something terrible could happen. And
I was unlucky enough that it did.
“It won’t change anything!” I reach out and grab hold of his
sweatshirt. Two fistfuls. “I am telling you don’t go there. If this
is for me, I don’t want it.”
Reeve’s already shaking his head. He’s not listening to me.
“Those guys have to pay for what they did. There have to be
consequences. They can’t just get away with it.”
It’s hard to breathe now. “I know want to help. I know that.
But nothing you do can take back what happened.” I’m trying
to stay strong so I can make him hear me, but I can feel myself
start to shake. “You going over there, it will only bring everything back for me. All I want to do is forget.”
I see him soften a little. “You can’t bury it, Lil. It happened.
You have to deal with it.”
“I know. But let me do it my way. Not like this.” I look up at
him with pleading eyes. “Please.”
We’re staring at each other, neither of us blinking, and Reeve
finally bows his head and nods. “I just—I wanted to make
things right for you.” He reaches out and takes my hand and
locks his fingers around mine. I let him do it, even though I feel
like I shouldn’t.
Later, when I think about the look in Reeve’s eyes, and I
remember what he said about how there should be consequences
for the bad things people do, I feel dread, because I know he’s
right. There will be consequences, for all of us. Maybe me most
of all.
CHAP
TER F
OR
T
Y - T
W
O

During Monday’s free period, I head to the computer
lab to check e-mail. I have to wait until I’m at school to do it,
because our computer at home is slow as shit. It’s old to begin
with, and then Pat downloaded a bunch of games, aka porn,
and now the thing’s got more viruses than a prostitute.

As soon as I log in, I get a pop-up window that says I’m
running out of available mailbox space. No surprises there.
About a month ago my aunt Jackie discovered “electronic
mail” and asked for my address. Now she forwards me at least
ten messages a day. Poems about angels and cancer-prayer
chain letters and articles about new research and treatments.
She’s unhealthily obsessed with my mom’s death. She could
seriously use an hour with Ms. Chirazo.

What I don’t see, unfortunately, are any e-mails about my
early-decision application to Oberlin. I know they have until
the end of January to get back to me, but I’m keeping my
fingers crossed I hear something before then. Ms. Chirazo
loved my new essay. She said it brought tears to her eyes.
She was probably hot flashing or something, but it was all I
needed to hear.

Later in the day, we have a drunk-driving assembly, which
is a lovely way to help ring in the holidays. An older-looking
woman in a police uniform is up at the podium, talking in the
most sleep-inducing monotone while she clicks through carcrash slides from the 1970s that don’t even show you anything
interesting, like gore or dead bodies. Just a bunch of wreckedup and dented metal. She might as well have taken pictures of
our garage.

Anyway, somewhere along the line I fall asleep, and the
polite applause wakes me up. I open my eyes right as the
police officer trips across the microphone cord and nearly
falls flat on her ass.

I can’t help but laugh. And look around at my fellow
classmates to see who else enjoyed that early Christmas gift.
Nobody else is laughing.

I meet eyes with Rennie, who has a big smile on her face.
As big as mine.
I immediately look away. A sick sense of humor was one
thing Ren and I always had in common.
Fuck. I guess we still do.
CHAP
TER F
OR
T
Y - THREE

The air smells piney and Christmasy from
the tree and the cinnamon ornaments the church ladies are
selling. It smells like it’s going to snow any minute. I hope it
does. A snow day would be heaven.

There’s a nice turnout this year; it seems like half of Jar Island
is here on Main Street for the tree lighting, even though it’s a
weekday. Our school’s chorus is in front of the tree, singing
“Winter Wonderland,” and they actually sound pretty good.
They’re all wearing Santa hats and red-and-green-striped
scarves, and the soprano section has bells. Mary’s in the back,
and she looks so cute with her hair in braids and her Santa hat
perched on top of her head. Alex is up there too, in the front
row. His solo should be coming up soon. I catch his eye and
wave, and he winks at me and tips his Santa hat.

The song finishes, and I clap and do a quick tuck jump. “Yay,
Lindy!” I shout. In my head I add a quick
And yay Mary.
I’m huddled together with Ashlin; Derek and Reeve went off
to get us hot chocolates. Rennie’s at work, which is perfect. I
don’t have to worry about her tonight.
“Lindy looks so cute up there,” Ash says, elbowing me.
“Like a tall elf.”
I dig around my cross-body bag for a peppermint candy.
“He
does
look like an elf.” And he does look cute in his camel
peacoat and his Santa hat and his tartan scarf his mom probably
bought him. His cheeks are rosy from the cold, and he has a big
smile on his face. I can’t help smiling too. To Ash I say, “He has
a good voice, don’t you think? I can’t wait to hear his solo.”
“Totes,” Ash agrees. Then she leans in close and whispers,
“So what’s going on with you and Reeve? Are you guys, like,
here together?”
I blink. And before I’ve thought it through, I squeal, “Ew!
No.” Ashlin looks skeptical, so I add, “No way would anything
ever happen with me and Reeve. Not in a million trillion years.”
Ash is about to reply, but then her eyes light up and she
reaches her arms out and squeals, “Gimme, gimme!”
I turn around, and Derek and Reeve are standing there with the
hot chocolates. I worry for a second that Reeve heard me, but he
hands me the Styrofoam cup and his face doesn’t betray anything.
Then I see her, Kat, across the town square, looking over at
us. It’s go time for step one.
Oh God.
I switch places with Ash so I’m standing next to Reeve and
she’s next to Derek.
“It’s so cold,” I say, wrapping my fingers around the cup. I’m
wearing a dove-gray fleece and skinny jeans and riding boots,
plus my rabbit-fur earmuffs. I should have brought mittens,
though (I left my ivory coat home, on purpose).
When Reeve doesn’t say anything, I tug his coat sleeve. “I’m
so cold,” I repeat.
Reeve rolls his eyes at me. “Why didn’t you wear a coat?”
I creep closer to him, huddling for warmth. That’s why,
Reeve. “Well, my fleece usually keeps me warm enough, but
tonight it’s
freezing
.” I try to link my arm through his, but he
flinches like I’ve burned him.
Then he steps away from me and shrugs out of his puffer
jacket. He pushes it at me and says, “There. Now quit complaining. Let’s not forget you’re the one who bugged us about
coming to this cornfest.”
Why is he suddenly being such a jerk? We had this close
moment on Saturday, and now, three days later, it feels like he’s
trying to push me away. Did he hear what I said to Ash, or is
it something else? Maybe I should be relieved, but I’m not. I’m
annoyed. “We’re here so we can support Alex,” I remind him.
“He’s your friend too!”
Reeve makes some kind of snorty sound and goes back to
watching the chorus with his arms crossed. They’re singing
“Let It Snow.” Derek and Ash have migrated over to a tree and
they’re making out. In public. So tacky. And a total waste of a
hot chocolate. Their cups are on the ground.
It’s me and Reeve now. I glance around for Kat again, but I
don’t see her. There are too many people milling around.
I sneak a peek at Reeve, and he’s standing there with his arms
crossed and a scowl on his face. I take a sip of my hot chocolate.
Maybe I’ve been imagining this whole thing and he’s already
over it. “What’s up with you tonight?” I ask him, taking another
sip. “You’re being such a grouch.”
He barely even glances in my direction. “Nothing’s up
with me.”
“Is your leg hurting from standing on it too long? We could
go find a bench or . . .” My voice trails off. He’s not even listening. I bite my lip. If he’s over it, then I’m going to be over it first.
Whatever
it
is.
I jab Reeve on the shoulder. “Here,” I say, shoving his coat
back at him. “I’m leaving. Tell Alex I had to go.” I start speed
walking away from him and toward the church parking lot. I
toss my cup in a trash can along the way.
“Wait!” he yells.
I don’t slow down, I hurry faster, but Reeve catches up with
me. Breathing hard, he whirls me around so I’m facing him. His
green eyes are bright; he fixes them on me. He doesn’t blink
once. In a low, urgent voice he says, “I like you. I’ve been holding it in, for Lind’s sake. But I like you. I can’t help it.” He
watches me, waits for me to say something. Do something. “No
more games, Cho. You and me—is this real?”
My face is flaming. I know I’m supposed to say yes. Say
yes and kiss him. That’s the plan. Except the thing is that, deep
down, I
want
to say yes. I want so badly to say yes. But I’m
afraid. We’re so real it terrifies me.
Seconds pass, and finally Reeve’s gaze drops and he isn’t
looking at me anymore. He’s looking down. He’s going to back
away, he’s going to leave, and it will all be over.
“Yes. It’s real.”
Reeve’s head jerks up. “Then—then why did you tell Ash
you weren’t here with me?”
I don’t know what else to tell him except the honest answer.
“Because I’m scared.” My voice breaks. “I don’t want to hurt
anybody.” You least of all.
I stand there, shivering. Reeve puts his coat on my shoulders,
and then I let him help me into it. He pulls me toward him, and
then he slides my arms around his neck. “Okay?” he whispers.
He’s shivering too.
I nod, my heart beating so fast and so hard I can hear it. I
think I can hear his, too.
And then he kisses me, and I stop thinking altogether.
CHAP
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Y -F
OUR