Ashes to Ashes (15 page)

They can keep dreaming. They can't remove anything or renovate without an owner's permission. I've heard my mother say that she'd rather sell a kidney than ever part with this house.

“Thank goodness Erica decided to donate the house. Another few months and this place would have to be condemned.”

What?

There's no way. No.

“I'm surprised she wanted to hold on to it after her daughter killed herself in the room upstairs. If I were her, I'd never want to come back.”

Danner holds up her pencil. “Ooh! Actually, this may sound
silly, but maybe we should look into having the place spiritually cleansed. I know a woman who does an excellent tarot reading in White Haven. She studied in India and—”

I feel like I'm about to burst out of my skin. And the house feels it too. Cracks bloom on the plaster walls; white dust sprinkles down like snowflakes. The women scream in unison.

They make for the front door, running through a gauntlet of spark and sizzle as I send bolts of electric current flashing out of outlets and light switches. Danner is the last one to the door, and I slam it and trap her inside before she can cross the threshold.

The other women outside are calling for her. Danner drops her notepad, grabs at the doorknob, and frantically tries to turn it to escape. I pucker my lips and blow some of the electrical sparks down onto the pages, making them catch fire. Their precious notes and measurements crackle into ash.

Shrieking, Danner peels off her fur coat, lays it down on the fire, and stamps the flames out. Then she picks her smoking coat up off the floor, and I finally let her open the door. She runs like mad down the walkway.

They might want this house, but they're not going to get it. Not while I'm still here.

*  *  *

Suddenly I'm standing in front of a beautiful old building. There's a bronze plaque next to the door.

JAR ISLAND PRESERVATION SOCIETY

I wonder if I've appeared here because I'm supposed to get back at these ladies. At Danner. I am here for a reason. I just need to find out what the reason is.

The office is closed up; there aren't any lights on inside. I guess the whole staff was over scoping out my house. I pass through the locked door and look around inside. Every detail is beautifully restored. The place must have been an old bank or some kind of store. The ceilings are high, and the place glows with the pink setting sun.

I feel myself pulled down the hallway, and I go with the current. Hanging along the walls are black-and-white photographs of Jar Island from long ago. It's like a museum. I stop at one photo, of a group of elected officials seated at a table covered in documents. Five men and one woman. She has to be my great-aunt, the first female alderman of Middlebury. She fought for the rights of the migrant workers on the island, to see that they were paid fairly and treated well by their employers. My family did such great things. I could have done great things too, if I hadn't . . .

No. Wait. I am doing great things.

I am avenging the lost, the downtrodden. I am punishing those who deserve it.

I pass by an open office door and see a picture of my house up on an easel. On the desk there are contractor plans, beautiful plans, no doubt, but it's not their right. The Preservation Society must have preyed on my mother, knowing she was so vulnerable.

They stole my house.

I snoop around on the desk. There's a seating chart from last year's fund-raiser. There's an
X
over the date, and someone's changed it to this year's date. I scan the table assignments. I see Alex, his parents. Lillia and her parents at the same table with the Linds. I remember Lillia once telling me how much fun she and Alex had together at the fund-raiser. But someone has put a Post-it next to Lillia's seat. It says
available
.

Well, that shouldn't be. If Reeve is so intimidated by Alex Lind, if he's so worried that Alex is going to steal Lillia away from him, then Lillia should definitely be at the benefit with Alex. I use my hand to lift that Post-it note off, and then I peel off the very top ticket in the pile.

Okay. Time to go make mischief.

But when I try to go, I can't. I'm still in the office.

There must be something else I need to find.

It takes some searching, but I finally spot a creamy white envelope in the outbox. I can see through it to the letter inside, like the envelope is glass.

To Whom It May Concern:

I am writing to highly recommend acceptance of Katherine DeBrassio to Oberlin College. I have worked with Katherine for the last several months on a preservation project here on the island and am so impressed with the character . . .

It goes on and on, full of praise, glowing praise, detailing what a hard and motivated worker Katherine DeBrassio is. How she'd be an asset to any college.

Ah. Yes. I get it.

It makes me extra mad, knowing that she's helped the place that basically stole our family house.

I pick the letter up between two fingers, blink, and the thing goes up in flames.

E
VENTUALLY EVERYONE COMES BACK TO
one lunch table but Alex. I don't know where he eats. I tried to ask PJ about it once, but he just gave me a vague nonanswer, and I gave up. Ash isn't exactly warm to me, but she isn't outright ignoring me anymore either. I'll take what I can get. Alex is the one I can't stop thinking about. He's the one I have to make things right with. And Kat's right. Letting more and more time go by is only going to make a hard conversation even harder.

Friday night I don't get home until dinnertime because my riding lesson at the barn goes long. I run straight upstairs and
hop into the shower because Reeve's going to be here soon to pick me up for a party—some junior girl PJ is talking to is throwing it, and Reeve thinks we should go and be social. I think it's because he knows Alex won't be there; he'll be at the Preservation Society gala with his parents. Alex's parents buy a table every year, and my parents always go. That's where they are tonight.

Last year Alex and I went. We sat with our parents, and we rolled our eyes and laughed at them on the dance floor. We snuck a glass of champagne behind the staircase, and we took turns gulping it down. I kept thinking he would ask me to dance, but he never did.

When I get out of the shower, I sit down at my vanity to comb my hair, and that's when I see the gala ticket, tucked in between my perfume bottles. I pick it up, hold it in my hands. My mom must have left it for me this morning. When my mom first mentioned the gala, it was right after Valentine's Day, when things between me and Alex were super weird. I told her I probably wasn't going, but I'm glad she didn't listen.

There's no way Alex will be able to ignore me in front of our parents! He'll
have
to talk to me. I leap into action, doing my makeup, putting my hair in a slicked-back bun. I don't have time to curl it or do anything special. I'm zipping myself into the only long dress I own, a slinky black strapless dress my
mom gave me because it was “too youthful” for her, when I remember I'm supposed to go to that party with Reeve.

Shoot.

Before I really think it through, I text him that I'm not feeling well and I'm going to skip out on the party and rest. Reeve immediately texts back a concerned
Are you okay???
, which makes me feel horrible. But there's no going back now.

*  *  *

Dinner is being served when I arrive. I hurry over to the table, and Alex's mother, Celeste, jumps up as soon as she sees me. “Lillia! You look stunning!”

We hug, and then I slide into the empty seat next to Alex. His jaw is hanging halfway to the floor, and then he remembers he's mad at me and erases the surprise from his face and goes back to indifference. He looks very grown-up in his tuxedo.

My mom turns to me and says, “Lilli! How did you know there was an extra seat at the table?”

“Because you left me a ticket,” I remind her.

“I did?”

“Yes, it was on my dresser.”

My mom looks confused, and then Daddy says, “You look beautiful, honey. Just like your mom.”

“Thanks, Daddy,” I say.

When the adults are talking about one of the vacations up for
silent auction, I whisper to Alex, “I came here to talk to you.”

“Then you should probably go.” Alex pushes his chair out and stands up. “Does anybody want anything from the bar?” Celeste gives him a reproving look, and he holds up his hands and says, “I'm getting a Sprite.”

Alex disappears, and he doesn't come back until dessert. I've got a spoonful of cranberry gelato halfway to my mouth when Celeste says delightedly, “The band's started playing music again! Alex, ask Lil to dance.”

I nearly choke. But it's the perfect thing. “I'd love to dance.”

“No, thanks,” Alex says, taking a sip of his drink. Whatever it is, it definitely isn't just Sprite.

Celeste narrows her eyes at him. “Alex Lind!”

Celeste keeps harassing him, and then his dad joins in, and my dad says, “Don't force the guy.”

At this, Alex finally stands up without looking at me. “Do you want to dance?” He says it like it's the last thing he wants to do. I'm red-faced as I follow him out to the dance floor. Stiffly he takes my right hand, and I put my other hand on his shoulder, and we don't look at each other at all. We both look straight ahead. Halfway through the song I know time is running out, and I start practicing in my head what I'm going to say.
I care about you so much. You've always been such a good friend to me. . . .
No, that's not right.
You're one of my best friends—

“Reeve's going to hurt you. That's the kind of guy he is. But maybe you know that already.” I start to pull away from him, so I can see his face, but Alex holds me still. “I want you to know one thing.”

My heart beats painfully hard inside my chest. “What?”

“When he breaks your heart, I won't be there waiting. I'm done.” And then the song is over, and Alex lets go of me and walks away.

*  *  *

I make some excuse as to why I have to leave, but I can't remember what I tell my parents and the Linds. And I don't wait for permission. I just mumble something, grab my clutch, and go.

My hands shake the whole ride home. Once I'm in my driveway, I don't get out of the car right away. I'm lost in that moment, hearing Alex's voice.
When he breaks your heart, I won't be there waiting. I'm done.

I've wanted to have it both ways. Both boys. I've never told Alex no, not really. Because I like the way he makes me feel. Because . . . maybe I do have some feelings for him. Maybe that's why this has been hurting me so bad. It's why I don't care about Ash or PJ or anybody else being mad at me. Because none of that's important compared to the thought of Alex hating me.

I'm finally getting out of the car when headlights shine behind me. I turn around, thinking it's my parents coming home early. But it's not. It's Reeve.

He shuts off the engine and jumps out of the truck, holding a plastic bag. He stops short when he sees me. In my dress, with my red lipstick and my hair done up. He frowns in confusion. “Why are you all dressed up?”

I step toward him, and then I falter. “I—I went to that Preservation Society benefit tonight.”

“I thought you said you didn't feel well.” Realization is dawning over his face. Realization and hurt. He holds out the bag to me, which I take. I open it, and there are candy bars inside.

“I'm sorry,” I say, wringing the bag in my hands. “I should have told you I was going. I just—I wanted a chance to talk to Alex alone.”

“You mean without me around.”

“No. I mean, maybe.” I bite my lip. “Alex is really important to me—”

Incredulously, Reeve says, “More important than me?”

“Of course not!”

“Then what the fuck, Cho! You lied to me so you could go to some party with him?” He's panicky. Pacing.

“I just wanted to talk to him, to try to explain—”

Reeve shakes his head. “So now what, you two are buddy-buddy again?”

“No.”

“But you wish you were.”

“Reeve, just because you and I are together, that doesn't mean I'm cutting him out of my life.” I swallow hard. Not that it matters anymore, because he's already cut me out of his.

“Well, what did he say?” He's suddenly quiet. Nervous.

“Nothing.”

He takes a step toward me. “Tell me, Cho. He had to have said something.”

“Reeve, I . . .” I struggle for what to say. Should I be honest and tell him the terrible things Alex said about him? Every second that passes, Reeve looks like he crumbles. And then I realize he's afraid I'm going to break up with him. “I want to be with you, okay?”

Reeve's face clears, and he grabs me and hugs me so tight. Reeve is the one I am with. And if this is really going to work with us, I need to set these feelings for Alex aside for good. I have to let him go, because he's already let go of me.

Good-bye, Lindy.

I
TEXT
L
ILLIA TO SEE
if she wants to hang out, and she suggests Scoops. When I get there, she's sitting at a table waiting for me. She waves me over like mad even though I can clearly see her.

“What kind of ice cream do you want?” she asks. “My treat.”

I raise my eyebrow. Why does she want to treat me? Whatevs. I'm not passing up free ice cream. “Sweet. I'll take a scoop of Moose Tracks and a scoop of mint chip.”

“You got it.” Lillia jumps up and goes to place the order. I look at my phone until she comes back.