Fire With Fire (25 page)

My Friday nights are getting less and
less exciting these days. Lillia’s having a big rager and I’m
sitting on the floor of the den, trying to untangle a knot of
holiday lights. It’s a pretty, glowing puzzle. Pat and Dad went
to buy us a Christmas tree from the YMCA with a coupon
from the newspaper. Pat was all, “I want one that smells piney.
Some of them don’t.” I put my hands on his shoulders and
said, “Tall and cheap, Pat. That’s your mission.”

It still feels weird to spend money on Christmas trees. Back
when Mom was alive, we’d go out “tree hunting.” That’s what
she called it, anyway. I think other people might use the word
“trespassing.”

After dinner, when the sun had set, the four of us would go for
a walk in the woods behind our house. Each of us would have a
flashlight. When we’d find a good tree, Dad and Pat would each
take a side of an old-timey handsaw, and they’d push it back and
forth. Mom and I would quietly cheer them on, mittens dulling
our applause, and sip hot cider from a thermos.

This was the only thing illegal my mom ever did. We’d drag
the tree back to the house, and the whole time we’d tease her
about it. Pat would get quiet and say in a whisper, “Judy! I
think I hear sirens!” and then he and I would bust up laughing. But Mom refused, she flat-out refused, to spend money
on a tree when the woods were full of them. Never mind
that the woods weren’t our property. They belonged to the
Preservation Society, bought in an effort to keep parts of Jar
Island undeveloped.

I feel my lip curl up, like I’ve tasted something sour. This is
the second time Rennie has reached out to me. First the daisy
in my locker, which was so beyond emotionally manipulative
I can’t even, and now this. I never responded to the daisy. I’ve
looked straight through her when I’ve seen her at school. And
I’m definitely not going to write back now. I mean, come on.
Why the eff would Rennie think that I’d want to open that door
again? It was barely a month ago that she was trying to start shit
with me at the Greasy Spoon.

I know why she’s doing it. She’s on the outs with Lillia. She’s
probably not even invited to the party tonight. If things were
okay between them, she’d never reach out to me. Um, yeah.
Thanks but no thanks, you witch.

Why is she refusing to take the hint? The fact that she keeps
trying, even when I’ve blown her off . . . well, it’s making
me
feel
bad, which is total BS. Because I don’t owe her anything. She’s
the asshole. Not me. She needs to get that straight.

My jaw drops. Girl has serious balls.
There’s no way in HELL I’m meeting you at Java Jone’s!!!
My fingers tap the screen so hard I’m afraid I might break my
phone.
For all I know she could be planning some grand humiliation
of me à la Stephen King’s
Carrie
, complete with a bucket of
pig’s blood that’ll crash down on my head when I walk through
the door.

Classic Rennie. She’ll browbeat you until she gets her way.
She pulled that shit all the time when we were kids. Once, Rennie
wanted permission to go to a midnight screening of a horror
movie that was rated R for being extra, extra gory. Paige said
no, but Rennie kept asking until the answer changed. Which, of
course, it did.

I write back, all caps,
DIE BITCH!!!!
Then I cram my cell between couch cushions, because I’m
over it. I’m over this damn knot of lights, too. It’s Pat’s fault;
he’s the one who chucks them in a bag every year instead of
wrapping them up carefully. I dig in the boxes, looking for our
tree topper. Instead I end up unwrapping the white porcelain
angel from a shell of newspaper. I use the sleeve of my black
sweater to dust the windowsill and then set it down. There’s a
place inside to put a candle, one of those tea lights that come
inside a metal cup, but we’ve never done that. I make a mental
note to buy some of those candles. I’m not even sure where we
got the angel, if it was ours from before or a gift after, but when
I see it, I always think of Judy.
The doorbell rings. Shep slides off the chair and barks his
way to the front door.
Oh no. No no no no.
I peek through the curtains and see a white Jeep in my driveway.
Hell no!
The doorbell rings again. And then there’s knocking.
Impatient knocking.
I stand a few feet from the front door and shout, “Get off my
property, Rennie!” through the wood. I wish Shep was a guard
dog that I could sic on her.
“Kat, come on. Please talk to me!”
I press my back against the door. She keeps knocking.
This is ridiculous. Rennie’s somehow found a way to make
me look like the idiot. The girl hiding inside, afraid to face down
her tormentor. I swear to God . . .
I pull the door open, hard.
“You have sixty seconds. Go.”
Rennie smiles shyly. She’s got on an olive-green sweater, dark
jeans, and some fringy suede Sherpa boots that look utterly
ridiculous. “Hey,” she says, casual.
I don’t say anything. I stand there and wait for her to start.
Except that Rennie doesn’t do anything but stare at me, like
she’s a person with amnesia, trying to remember who I am.
I burst out with “Say what you’ve got to say!” to get this
moving along.
She bites her lip and nods. “Kat,” she says, and then pauses to
take a big breath. “I’m sorry.” She raises her arms up like she’s
offering me something, I don’t know what, and then lets them
fall back limply to her sides.
I laugh, I can’t help it, and it makes a cloud in the cold air.
“That’s it? That’s what you came here for?”
She lets out a sigh, and it sounds almost annoyed, like I don’t
know how hard this is for her. “I know the people I hang out
with haven’t made things so easy for you. Lillia, Ashlin . . .”
“Don’t.” I shake my head. I’m shutting this shit down right
now. “Don’t you dare blame anyone else for what you’ve done
to me the last four years.” I don’t say it; I growl it.
Her eyes flutter, and then she stares at the ground. “I . . . I
. . .”
“Oh, come on.” I start pushing the door shut, because this is
ridiculous.
Rennie takes a step toward me and uses her foot to block the
door from closing. “Wait. Okay. Okay. I wish I could go back
to the first day of high school and do everything over. I wish I
could take it all back, Kat.”
“Well, you can’t,” I tell her. It’s way too late for that.
“I know I can’t. And that’s what sucks.”
I lean against the door. “You know what sucks? Your timing. I love that this apology is coming now, now when your
whole circle of friends is completely fucked up and you’ve got
nobody.” I’m practically screaming.
She blinks a few times.
“Everyone at school knows, Ren. You and your precious
little are on the outs.” I don’t know why I say that stuff about
Lillia. I’ve made my peace with her; I’ve forgiven her. We’re
cool now. But it’s like the anger is still inside me, somewhere,
for getting dropped. “You picked her over me, so why would
you think I’d give a flying fuck that she’s ditched you now?” I
laugh, and it sounds hollow, but I don’t care. “I love it! Karma,
baby!” I try closing the door again.
“Wait! Please, Kat. Just listen to me for a second. Lillia’s a
duplicitous bitch. It’s almost psycho, how two-faced she is. I just
never saw it before now!” Rennie looks so convinced, so sure of
herself. In her sick mind, Lillia’s clearly guilty of something.
I stare at her, mouth agape. “Don’t you get it, you little idiot?
There’s not an apology in the world that could make up for the
shit you’ve done.” I can feel my temperature rising, despite the
fact that I’m trying to keep cool. “All the lies you’ve told about
me. The teasing, the bullying. I never deserved that. I was your
friend. I never did anything to you.”
Rennie starts shaking. She wraps her arms around herself
tight, but it doesn’t make it stop. She stares down at her uglyass boots. “Fine. You’re right. You’re totally, totally right. I’m
getting everything I deserve.”
I don’t comfort her. Instead I say, “Eh, I’m not so sure about
that, Ren. I mean, I hope you
do
get what you deserve. I hope
things get a lot worse for you.”
The words leave a bad taste in my mouth. They are mean,
really really mean. Maybe too mean.
I think she’s going to look up and tell me to eff off. But she
doesn’t. She looks up, and she’s got tears in her eyes. She takes a
step backward, away from me. “Let me say one last thing, Kat.
For the rest of my life, I want you to know that I’ll be ashamed
for not being there for you when your mom got sick. I don’t
want you to go off to Oberlin or wherever, us never see each
other again, and you not know that.”
It’s hard to make words come out. My throat is so suddenly
tight. “Good. You should be ashamed.” I can feel my chin start
to shake.
Rennie sees this, and her tears come fast. “I’m sorry,” she
says. And then she’s sobbing. She sits down on the step, leans
forward and puts her head in her lap, and bawls.
This kind of shocks me. And then I realize I’m getting everything I’ve always wanted. Not revenge, but an apology. A real
one. Except I’m too sad to enjoy it. Things didn’t have to be
this way.
I sink down too, one step above her, and watch her shoulders
heave up and down. It’s hard not to comfort her. I end up patting her back. Twice. Damn. I’m only human.
Dad and Pat pull up with a Christmas tree tied to the roof of
the car. They see us, and Pat’s eyes go wide. I shake my head,
so he knows it’s okay. He pulls my dad in through the garage.
Rennie lifts her head. “I want to promise you something. I
promise on my heart that I will not do one more mean thing to
you, Kat. Ever.” My throat is dry, so I give her the slightest nod
of acknowledgment. “And I wanted to invite you to my New
Year’s Eve party.”
I’m about to say thanks but no thanks to her invitation, but
then it hits me. If I’m at the party, then I’ll get to see shit between
Reeve and Lillia go down firsthand. “Can I bring someone?” I
ask, thinking of Mary. “If I don’t have anything better to do?”
Rennie laughs at that. “Classic Kat,” she says. “Totally.
Whoever you want.” She stands up and stretches. “There’s
going to be a bouncer, like at a speakeasy. If you tell him ‘My
flask is empty,’ he’ll let you in for free.” Her face breaks into
a devious smile. “I’ve even got a special surprise planned for
midnight and I want you front and center for the show. Boom
boom boom, baby.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes at her, because dude, she’s still
so Rennie.
“Listen . . . I do appreciate you coming over,” I say gruffly.
“And for saying that stuff to me.”
She smiles. “It’s the least I could do.” She scratches Shep
behind the ears and then kisses him on the head. “Bye, Kat.”
“Bye, Ren.”
In a weird way, it doesn’t feel like good-bye. It feels like
maybe the smallest bit of a start.
CHAP
TER F
OR
T
Y -EIGHT

As soon as I got home from school I locked
up the liquor cabinet and the door to the wine cellar; then I made
a sign with my calligraphy pen that said
Off Limits
and put it on
my parents’ bedroom door. I debated putting up a sign on the
front door that said
Please Take Off Your Shoes
, but then decided
it would be a bit much. If I see people putting their feet up on the
white couches, I will politely ask them not to.

I’m wearing the lacy black corset top that Kat bought for me.
I haven’t had the nerve to wear it up until now, but I think that
as hostess I’m supposed to look extra special. I’m wearing it with
a pleated gray mini and my gold horseshoe pendant. I curled my
hair and teased the crown up so it’s bouncy and big. The last touch
is pale pink lipstick and a dab of perfume.

I see Reeve’s truck pull up and watch him bound up the walkway with four pizza boxes stacked up. I run over to the front door
and fling it open before he can ring the bell.

His jaw drops when he sees me. “Damn, Cho.”
It’s exactly the reaction I was hoping for, but my cheeks still
heat up. “Thanks for picking up the pizzas,” I say as he steps
inside. He hands me the boxes as he slips off his shoes and lines
them up against the wall. He’s wearing white sweat socks with
a gray toe, the same brand as my dad. This makes me smile for
some reason.
I can feel his eyes on me as I walk him to the kitchen. I set the
pizzas down on the counter. “Thanks again,” I say, just to have
something to say.
“No sweat.”
“Did you get the kegs?” I ask.
“Yeah, they’re in the back of my truck.”
“I’ll help you bring them in,” I say.
Reeve lets out a laugh. “They’re too heavy for you and me. I’ll
get PJ to help when he gets here.” Giving me the once-over, he
adds, “Your skirt’s too short for you to help anyway.”
I make a pouty face. “It’s not that short.”
He grins at me. Then he hooks his hands on my hips and pulls
me toward him, nice and easy. He keeps his eyes on me, watching
me carefully, giving me a chance to stop him if I want.
But I don’t. I don’t want. I mean I do. Want.
And then he’s kissing me; his mouth is soft and sure against
mine. He really knows how to kiss.

I don’t remember inviting this many people. And I explicitly said
no underclassmen, so why do I see junior girls from the squad? This
party is so not VIP. And God, being the hostess is probably the least
fun thing ever. I’m constantly running around wiping up spills and
turning down the music. I haven’t even had one sip of alcohol!

Thank God Reeve is here.
He’s standing at the door, barking at people to take off their
shoes. “Morrissey, were you raised in a freaking barn?” he growls.
Reeve winks at me when he sees me watching.
I’m doing a lap around the downstairs when I see her. Rennie. I
can’t even believe it, but there she is, drinking a beer, sprawled out
on my couch with her high-heeled boots on, talking to Ash, who’s
perched on the armrest.
I’m not sure what to do. If I try to kick her out, it’ll be such
drama, which is exactly what she wants. For us to have a fight
in front of all these people. So I do the exact opposite; I grab a
bowl of chips from the kitchen and sail over to the couch with
a sunny smile. “Hey, guys!” I plop down beside them.
Rennie gives me a fake smile where only the corners of her
mouth go up, and Ash leans over and hugs me. “Lil, everything’s
a mess,” she wails.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her.
“Derek told me tonight that he wants to keep it casual; he
doesn’t want to be in a serious thing his senior year.” Ashlin blows
her nose with a cocktail napkin.
“Ugh,” I say. “That’s so Derek.”
“Ash, this is the best thing that could have happened,” Rennie
says, taking a sip of her beer. “Derek isn’t boyfriend material.”
I push the bowl of chips toward Ashlin. She stuffs a handful in
her mouth and says, “But you and Reeve are totally a thing and Lil
and Alex are probably going to get together too. Who does that
leave me with? PJ?” She makes a disgusted face.
I don’t say what I’m thinking, which is,
Um, excuse me, but
Reeve and Rennie are so not a thing because Reeve and I are.
I
wait to see if Rennie will correct Ashlin, but she keeps sipping on
her beer. All she says is, “Aw, PJ is super cute. Don’t worry, Ash.
You’ll find the perfect guy for you like I did.”
I stand up because I can’t listen to this garbage anymore.
“Ash, I’ll be back in a sec. I’m going to go make sure nobody’s
upstairs.”
Rennie rolls her eyes. “Nobody’s going to have fun if
you’re running around all uptight like a prison guard. Hello,
it’s supposed to be a party. You need to chill out.”
I’m about to snap back at her when Reeve comes bursting into
the living room. He scoops Rennie up off the couch and throws
her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing, which she does.
“Put me down, Reeve,” she squeals, kicking her feet.
“No shoes in the house, Ren!” he says, pulling them off her
feet. Then he tosses her back down on the couch, and her cup
of beer tips over and spills everywhere; some splashes on my
arm. “Awesome. Thanks, guys,” I say, sopping up the floor with
napkins.
Reeve bends down and starts helping me. “Sorry, Cho.”
“Chill out, Lil,” Rennie says, her face red from being held
upside down. “It’s beer! Beer gets spilled at a party.”
“Rennie, I swear, if you tell me to chill out one more time . . .”
I say it and I mean it; I’m not joking.
Rennie narrows her eyes at me, and we stare each other down.
Reeve tries to put his arms around both of us, but I shrug away
from him.
Then Alex wanders in with a paper plate in one hand and a beer
in the other.
“Hey!” I say to Alex. “I haven’t seen you all night.”
Alex swallows his bite of pizza. “I’ve been around.” He takes a
swig of beer. “Oh, and I went to pick up the pizzas and they said
somebody already got them.”
I clap my hand to my mouth. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! I
totally forgot to text you.”
Alex stuffs the rest of the slice in his mouth. “No worries.”
“I’m so, so sorry, Lindy,” I say, and Rennie rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, sorry, Lind,” Reeve drawls. “I took care of it.”
Alex looks from me to Reeve, who is still standing next to me.
Quickly I say, “They were on his way to get the kegs, so I thought
it would be easier.”
“No worries,” Alex says again, resting his plate on the coffee
table. Then he pulls his wallet from his back pocket, and my stomach twists in a knot. He takes a few twenties from the billfold and
holds them out for Reeve. “Here.”
“What’s this for?” Reeve asks him, his eyes narrowing on the
money.
Alex takes a step closer, still holding out the cash. “I told Lil I
wanted to take care of the pizzas.”
“‘I told Lil I wanted to take care of the pizzas,’” Reeve mimics
back in a whiny-baby voice. “Too late. I already got it.”
Alex’s face goes red. I’m about to tell him to let it go, but before
I can, he tosses the money on the coffee table. “Keep the change.”
Reeve says, “I’m not the delivery boy, you dick.”
Alex laughs dryly. “Who knows . . . in a couple of years, you
might be.”
My hands fly to my face. I can’t even believe Alex said that.
I’ve never seen him talk to Reeve that way before. On the couch,
Rennie rears up like she’s going to tear into Alex.
Reeve’s fist is clenched at his side, and I just know he’s about
two seconds from flattening Alex. I have to do something, fast.
Heart racing, I gather up the bills and hand them back to Alex.
Nicely but firmly I say, “Thanks, Lindy, but Reeve’s got it covered.” Then I let my body fall against Reeve and slide my hand
into his.
It’s a tiny display, subtle and quiet and barely anything. But it
only takes a second before Alex’s jaw goes tight. I turn my head
and look at Rennie, on the couch. Her mouth has dropped so far
open that I can see her molars. My whole body squeezes tight
with nerves, but I don’t move.
They are all seeing this. Us.
Then Reeve glances down at me, shocked. And definitely not
happy. He pulls his hand free from mine and says, “What are you
doing, Cho?” like I’m out of my mind, like we didn’t have that
conversation in his truck, like we’ve never even kissed. Then with
a chuckle and a shake of his head, he steps away from me, picks up
Alex’s paper plate, and disappears into the kitchen. And I’m left
there, standing in front of everyone, with my mouth wide open.
What just happened?
I can’t bear to see the look on Rennie’s face or anybody’s face.
I spin on my heels and quickly head upstairs. What was that talk
about doing what feels right, and people can go to hell if they
don’t like it? I was the one who said we should be discreet!
I go straight to my room and close the door and plop down
in front of my vanity. My hair looks like crap, super flat but not
in the shiny, sleek way. It’s probably because I’ve been running
around for the last two hours cleaning up other people’s messes.
I drag a brush through it roughly, then I put on a fresh coat of
lipstick because most of it has worn off. I can feel the music from
downstairs pumping through the walls, and I just want to lie down
on my bed. I wonder how soon is too soon to kick people out.
I’m sure he did it because he was embarrassed. Because of the
thing Alex said about him becoming a delivery boy. Maybe I handled it wrong. I could have given him space, let him do his bravado
thing, and waited for a better moment.
I guess I felt bad for him.
Sighing, I head back downstairs to check on things. From the
foyer, I hear the roar of a car engine peeling down my driveway. I
peek through the curtains. It’s Alex’s truck.
Great. Just great.
In the sitting room I notice a water ring on the coffee table, and
I try to smudge it out. I go into the kitchen to grab some Pledge,
and that’s when I find Rennie sitting on the floor, her back up
against our oven door. Reeve’s standing over her.
“Reevie . . . I feel wasted.” Her head sways from side to side,
her hair hanging in her face. “Will you please take me home?”
I peer at her. She’s had, like, two beers. I’ve seen her finish a sixpack in under an hour and not get tipsy. “Wow, I didn’t even see
you drink that much,” I say.
Rennie’s eyes suddenly snap into focus on me. “Maybe someone put something in my drink.”
I reel back a step.
Reeve stands up. “Ren, how much did you have?”
“I don’t know . . .” Rennie moans, now back to acting wasted.
“I lost count.” She’s totally putting on a show. She’s only been at
the party for like thirty minutes, and a second ago she was fine.
“I’ll drive myself home. I don’t want to make you leave.”
“There’s no way in hell I’d let you drive like this,” he says,
shaking his head.
He helps her to her feet, and then he hoists her up and Rennie
wraps her arms around his neck. “You’re the bestest, Reevie,” she
sighs, closing her eyes and snuggling closer.
“Go get your coat. I’ll meet you by the front door.”
“Okay. Huuuuurry.” Rennie wobbles off.
When Rennie’s gone, Reeve says to me, “I’m gonna drop her
off.”
I stare hard and fold my arms. “I don’t even know what she’s
doing here in the first place!”
Reeve straightens and says, “She’s here because all of us are, Lil.
All her friends. What’s she supposed to do? Sit at home alone?”
I feel my lip curl. How many times did Rennie make it so I was
doing exactly that! “Can you please not defend her to me?”
“I know she can be a bitch sometimes, but she’s a good girl
at heart.” Reeve runs a hand through his hair, then glances over
toward my front door. “Look, I’ll drop her off and then I’ll come
back.”
I screw my lips together. “Don’t bother. I’m gonna make everybody leave soon anyway.” I flick my hair over my shoulder. “Just
so you know, Alex left.”
Reeve sneers. “Good. Little rich boy punk bitch.”
“Reeve!” I glare at him.
From the front door I hear Rennie call out Reeve’s name.
“Reevie! I’m ready!”
He glances back. “Look, let me take care of this, and then I’ll
come back to help you clean.”
“I can do it myself.”
He sighs, exasperated. “Are you mad at me?”
Coolly I say, “Why would I be mad at you?”
Reeve grabs my hand and says, “I swear I’ll be right back. Give
me twenty minutes.”
I want to tell Reeve not to come back tonight, but I can’t bring
myself to say the words. Because I do want him to. I know I
shouldn’t, but I do. I can’t help it.
I smooth down the pleats of my skirt. “Okay. If you want.”
After looking over both shoulders to see who’s around,
Reeve plants a quick kiss on my forehead. Then he fishes his
keys out of his pocket, asks me to save him a piece of pizza, and
he’s gone.