Envy - 2 (8 page)

Miranda sighed and considered trying to score some pot off the stoners in the corner, anything to calm the rising tide of anxiety she suddenly felt at the daunting prospect of finding a way to turn herself into
that
. Not that she wanted to be vapid, of course. But beautiful? Stylish?
Skinny?
The kind of girl who screams “high maintenance” but which, it seemed, was al any worthwhile guy wanted?

Yes, please.

Haven High was a smal school. Claustrophobical y smal , it sometimes seemed to Adam. But he’d done a decent job so far of avoiding Kaia. He hadn’t spoken to her, in fact, since their last encounter. He stil shuddered at the thought of it—the intense, mind-blowing sex in an abandoned motel, fol owed almost immediately by an utterly humiliating blow-off.

What a loser he’d been. He saw that now. It was too late, of course—he’d done it, this huge, horrible thing that weighed on him, crushed him, and yet stil flickered through his fantasies, taunting him with what he couldn’t have yet stil , in some deep part of him, wanted.

Beth had wondered why he suddenly stopped fol owing Kaia around and inviting her out with the group, but she had no fond feelings for Kaia herself, so hadn’t wondered very long or very loudly. And maybe she didn’t want to know.

Stil , it was a smal school, and he’d been bound to bump into Kaia eventual y. He just hadn’t counted on a literal col ision.

“Oh, sorry!” he exclaimed, after spinning away from his locker and slamming into someone rushing past him down the hal . Then—“Oh, it’s you.” Suddenly, the split-second col ision became, in his mind, an embrace, as if he could stil feel the ghostly touch of his body pressing against hers, their hands and chests and hips awkwardly rubbing against each other, her silky hair whipping across his face.

“And it’s you, too,” she pointed out. “Where’ve you been, stranger?”

“Far away from you, which I thought was how you wanted it.” Her words to him at their last meeting echoed through his head. And the mocking laughter.

“Oh, Adam, I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.” She placed a soft hand on his chest—he pushed it away. “I don’t know what I’d do if I thought you hated me!”

“Give it up, Kaia,” he said harshly. “I’m not fal ing for your crap again. Find someone new to screw over.” Kaia rol ed her eyes. “Oh, right,” she scoffed. “You’re such the wounded victim, used and abused, right? You didn’t seem to mind the screwing part so much.”

“Shut up,” he hissed, suddenly aware of the students swarming around them. Watching. Listening? “I thought we agreed you weren’t going to tel anyone about that.”

“Oh, calm down. My lips are sealed. Why would I do anything to get between you and your precious Beth?”

“I appreciate that, Kaia.” He tried to ignore the disdainful edge to her voice. Kaia, he’d decided, was like a venomous snake—you just had to be very careful, stay very stil , and wait her out until she got bored and went away.

“Of course,” she added, smirking, “maybe I’m not the one you need to worry about.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, against his better judgment.

“I saw your blushing rose getting cozy in the coffee shop with your supposed best friend the other day. Just thought you’d want to know.”

“Old news,” he said, affecting nonchalance. Ignoring the taste of bile. “She’s tutoring him for the SATs. I know al about it. And it’s completely innocent.” And this he believed wholeheartedly, he told himself. He had to, right?

“So I heard. Such a sweet girl, to commit her time to helping him, when she’s oh so busy. But total y innocent, of course,” she assured him, voice dripping with false sincerity.

“I’m sure you’re right. Just another platonic extracurricular, like any other: yearbook, newspaper, party planning …” She narrowed her gaze suggestively and Adam felt the tips of his ears turn red. It was, after al , planning a party that had brought Adam and Kaia together in the first place. A few weeks’ worth of purely platonic meetings culminating in one night of il icit but extraordinary passion.

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, though,” she said after a moment of silence. “I mean, you’re in love, right? And that’s what love is al about—trust.” Trust. Right.

If Beth’s love for him proved as trustworthy as his love for her, they were in for some serious problems.

Job well done
, Kaia congratulated herself. Adam had, of course, walked away from her in disgust, but she could see the beginnings of doubt in the nervous twist of his lip and the tiny rivulets of sweat that traced a path down the muscles of his neck. She’d gotten under his skin—again.

Kaia laughed to herself. It probably wasn’t very nice of her to pick on Adam again. After al , he was such an easy mark, and clearly stil smarting from their last encounter. On the other hand, she considered, she’d given him a true gift—one that he’d certainly enjoyed enough at the time, no matter how much he may now claim she’d ruined his life. Didn’t she deserve to have some fun too? And if it was fun at Beth Manning’s expense, even better. Much as she tried, she couldn’t forget the fact that Mr. Powel had chosen that simpering softie over her. Yes, it was clearly because he thought Kaia spel ed trouble, while Beth would be easy prey. Powel was a predator; it was why she liked him so much. But stil , there it was—

he’d rejected her in favor of Beth, and while that was a lapse in judgment she was wil ing to forgive, Beth stil needed to pay.

This time, she’d decided, there was no reason to go it alone. Not when such a good game was already afoot.

So she headed to the library. She’d spotted Harper heading in that direction at the beginning of lunch period, and she had a sneaking suspicion she’d find her huddled over a desk with Kane, hatching some pathetic plan. It was time to lend these smal -town tricksters the wisdom of her experience.

Why?

Why the hel not?

She found them just as she’d imagined, heads together, arms waving animatedly, whispers flying. She crept up slowly behind Harper, finger to her lips, trusting Kane to keep his poker face, which he did, right up to the moment that Kaia tapped Harper on the shoulder and smiled angelical y into her face, which reflected, in quick succession, surprise, guilt, and disgust. Harper settled on the latter, but Kaia kept up her icy smile.

“What do you want?” Harper hissed. “We re busy here.”

“I don’t mind if the lovely Kaia joins us,” Kane said generously.

“Shut up, Kane.” Harper glared at him, then turned back to Kaia. “Why are you stil here?”

“What, is this where you tel me, ‘This is an
A, B
conversation, and I should
C
my way out of it?’” Kaia sneered.

“I was leaning more toward, ’This is an
X, Z
conversation, so
Y
don’t you just go away,” Harper corrected her. “Or at least I
would
have been if this were 1998 and we were ten years old. What do you think this is, VH1’s
Lamest Slang of the ’90s
?”

“Wel , your outfit does say ‘retro gone wrong,’” Kaia pointed out, “but I guess you’re not out of time, just out of taste. I can live with that.”

“I’m supposed to take fashion tips from someone who makes Paris Hilton look classy?” Harper scoffed.

Kane, whose eyes had been bouncing back and forth between the two as if he were fol owing a heated Ping-Pong match, began to softly applaud. “Bring it on, ladies. When do we take out the mud wrestling pit?”

“Shut up, Kane,” they snapped in unison.

He chuckled softly. “Okay, okay, I know when I’m not wanted.” He checked his watch and stood up, col ecting his books. “Besides,” he gave Harper a meaningful look, “I’ve got to go meet someone. We’re setting up a study ‘date’ for later. See ya.”

Harper shot him a vicious, how-dare-you-leave-me-here-alone-with-
her
look, but he just grinned and disappeared.

“Such a studious guy al of a sudden,” Kaia commented.

“Yeah, wel , you know Kane, needs to win at al costs,” Harper said uncomfortably. “Even if it means some hard work.”

“It’s going to be pretty damn hard to win at the rate you two are going,” Kaia pointed out.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kaia laughed to herself. It would have been cute if it weren’t so pathetic, this little show of ignorance and innocence. Harper was going to have to work on the poker face a bit if this whole thing was going to work.

“I think you know,” Kaia said simply.

Harper sighed. “Kaia, it’s a little early in the week for mind games, don’t you think?”

“Look I didn’t come here to fight, or play games,” Kaia promised her, wishing they could just cut through the bul shit and skip to the part where they got something done. But, as she wel knew, that’s not how these things worked. And the bul shit was, in the end, half the fun. “At least, not with you.”

“Then what?” Harper asked wearily.

“I know what you’re up to,” Kaia said, relishing the involuntary shudder that ran through Harper’s body. “And I want to help.”

“You know what we’re up to? Are you talking in code now? What is this, a James Bond movie? What would we be ‘up to’?”

“Do you real y want me to spel it out for you? Adam, Beth, Operation Screw Over Your Supposed Best Friend—or, in your case, just screw him?” Harper’s face turned pale. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she claimed in a strangled voice.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You’re total y innocent, you’re appal ed I would even suggest it. Whatever.” Kaia checked her watch. This was getting old. “Here’s my point. I want to help—you two are playing out of your league, and I think you need some coaching from a pro. That’s me.”

“Just out of curiosity,” and it was clear that Harper had plenty, “let’s say Kane and I did have some unholy al iance—why would
you
want to help? And why would we trust you?”

“I’m helping because I’m bored, and because I hate to see a good opportunity go to waste. As for why you should trust me?” Kaia paused. It was a good question. One that deserved a reasonably honest answer. “You shouldn’t. But you’re going to anyway because you’ve got almost everything you need—wil , motive, lack of scruples—but you’re missing one key thing, and that’s what I can supply.”

“And what’s that?” Harper asked skeptical y.

“A plan.”

It was Harper’s policy never to have to depend on someone. Especial y not because she was desperate.

She was Harper Grace.

She didn’t do desperate.

At least, not usual y. Under normal circumstances she plowed through the world and everyone else got out of the way. Unless you were slow. Then you just got run over. She certainly didn’t need anyone’s help to do it. Of course, under normal circumstances she didn’t usual y betray one of her best friends for the purposes of seducing the other, but these circumstances were anything but normal, and with the fate of her love life hanging in the balance, speed was of the essence. Which meant that Harper, lacking scruples and strategy in equal amount, was desperate.

And desperate times cal ed for desperate measures … right?

So when Kaia stood up from the cramped library table with an ultimatum: “Meet me after school and listen to what I have to say, or forget the whole thing,” Harper had nodded.

Final y, and fateful y, she had decided to give Kaia a chance.

But she wasn’t about to do it anywhere near the school, where someone could see them together. Kaia’s Eurotrash wardrobe, frozen beauty, and outlandish public liplock with Haven High’s most eligible bachelor had won her a fair amount of notoriety, but it wasn’t the kind that translated into social acceptance. She had a few fol owers, of course, but she was too high and mighty to inspire much loyalty, and most of the initial curiosity seekers had drifted away as Harper slowly but thoroughly put out word that the new girl was not to be touched.

Someone like Kaia could have easily toppled Harper’s careful y constructed high school hierarchy—so Harper did what she had to do to neutralize the threat.

When Harper spoke, people listened. And if they knew what was good for them, they obeyed.

She wasn’t about to waste al that hard work by meeting with Kaia in a public place and letting the world think they were suddenly bosom buddies. Harper saw her friendship as a powerful gift, and Christmas for Kaia wasn’t coming anytime soon.

So she needed a place where no one—
no one
—would recognize her, where no one she knew would ever deign to set foot. Hence: the Cactus Cantina. A greasy Tex-Mex bar with Cheez Whiz nachos and double-shot margaritas, the Cactus was good for inducing a heart attack or drinking yourself into oblivion, but little else.

Harper was already seated (albeit gingerly—she had no interest in letting any part of her body touch the mysterious sticky patches that dotted the booth) when Kaia arrived. So she got a good look at the cover girl’s face when she walked in the door. It wasn’t pretty. Or, rather—this being Kaia—it was spectacularly pretty. But it was prettiness scrunched up into a grimace of horror and reticence, her whole body telegraphing a single message: Dear God, don’t make me go in there. Please.