Ashes to Ashes (23 page)

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Authors: Jenny Han

BOOK: Ashes to Ashes
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The first one is titled
The Sleeping Mind: The Power of Dreams and Semiconsciousness.

Hells yeah, that's my jam. Underneath that are other ones, occult-type shit, spirits and whatnot. Some aren't even in English. Real Wicca-type stuff, the kinds of books you can't find in a regular bookstore. Bet I could make a killing off them on eBay.

After checking over both my shoulders, I lift a couple of them out, the ones that haven't been rained on and ruined. I put them into my trunk.

Chapter Forty-Six
MARY

O
N HIS FIRST DAY BACK
after his suspension, Reeve spends an hour getting ready. Clean shave, some product in his hair, and a couple of different outfit changes before he decides on jeans, a polo, and a pair of aviators. I can tell he's nervous, because he applies deodorant three times. I get why. No one has called him since his fight with Alex. Not one of his friends. A few times Reeve scrolled through his phone, probably to reach out, but he never went through with it.

Before he backs his truck down the driveway, he stares into his rearview mirror and touches the puffy dark circles under his eyes.

He hasn't been sleeping well. I've made sure of that.

When we reach the school parking lot, Reeve turns up his car stereo loud and sticks his arm out the side window, like he's out for a springtime joyride. The weather has turned nice, and there are lots of kids hanging around the fountain. It's been turned on again.

I can't help but think of that first day of school, of confident, cocky Reeve hanging with his friends, not a care in the world.

Reeve tries to project that same attitude, but I can see the cracks. His pace is too quick. He keeps looking around, waiting for someone to see him and give him a wave or a “What's up.” But it's as if he's invisible.

Actually, worse. No one wants to see him.

I know, because that's how it was for me, after Reeve came to the Montessori. And I bet Reeve realizes the shift as quickly as I did. He's a smart cookie.

Derek and PJ are tossing a Frisbee back and forth on the lawn. Reeve sees them, hustles over, and steals the catch in midair. “We gotta take advantage of this weather and get an ultimate game going stat. Maybe after school?” Reeve cocks back the Frisbee to join in the toss, but instead of holding out a hand, both Derek and PJ walk over toward him somberly.

“Look, I know what you guys are going to say. And you're
right,” Reeve says, holding up his hands. “Me versus Lind was never going to be a fair fight. But—”

“Hey, man, is it true, what people are saying?”

Reeve's smile doesn't waver. “What are they saying?” he says lightly. Derek and PJ share a weird look. Neither one wants to say it. “What?” Reeve asks again, though this time his voice has changed. It's quieter. Scared.

*  *  *

Reeve walks to homeroom with his head down. He immediately opens his notebook and starts writing a note to Lillia. He works on several versions of it all day. Sometimes it's defensive, sometimes apologetic, sometimes rambling. He's so distracted that his teachers have to say his name two and three times before he'll hear them.

They are the only people who speak to him.

When the final bell rings, he jumps out of his seat, folds up his note, and runs to Lillia's locker. She doesn't show up.

As we ride back home, Reeve doesn't even put the radio on for show.

“Do you get it now?” I ask him. “Do you see what's happening?”

He doesn't answer me, of course, and I don't need him to. I know he understands.

Reeve comes through the kitchen like a bull. His mother is
trying to ask about his day, but Reeve doesn't answer. Instead he opens the fridge, grabs a six-pack of beer, and takes it up to his room. He drinks them all.

Before I leave, while Reeve is peeing in the bathroom, I take the pocketknife out of his top drawer. With all the force I can muster, I ram the blade straight down into the wood.

He comes out of the bathroom at the sound. My present to him, quivering, the blade half into the wood.

He walks over and tries to take the knife out. But it's stuck in too deep, and he has to work at it to get it free. He rubs his finger over the splintered wood, the gash in his dresser top. I can feel his heart racing as he says, “Tommy? Dude, what the hell?” His voice is slurry from the beer.

Tommy doesn't answer.

Reeve turns the pocketknife over in his hands, examining it. As he does, I lean into his ear and whisper, “The sooner you do it, the sooner you'll be out of your misery. Because I'm not going to stop until you're gone, Reeve. That I promise you.”

Chapter Forty-Seven
KAT

I
DROP INTO THE SEAT
next to Ashlin, and I wish I had my freaking camera out, because the face she makes is classic.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Ash.” I glance around, faking like I'm confused. Alex has just walked through the doors into the library, with PJ and Lillia right behind him. I hear Derek shouting out to someone down the hallway. “Oh, shit. Wait up. Is some kind of meeting happening here right now?”

“Yeah,” Ash says. “It's prom committee—” She swats my arm. “Kat!”

I crack up. “What? You told me that I'm not allowed to bitch unless I show up to a meeting, so . . .”

Ash shakes her head. Derek and PJ both slap me five as they settle into their seats. It's been like this ever since spring break. We're friends.

Lillia gives me a smile, but then looks down at her lap when Ash leans across her to talk to Derek like she's not even there. Those two are still on the outs, I guess.

We shoot the shit for a few minutes until Alex clears his throat and asks, “Does anyone know if Reeve's coming?” Everyone shrugs their shoulders and avoids looking at one another.

Lillia keeps her eyes down, sweeping invisible crumbs off the tabletop. Neither of us have a clue how people found out about what Reeve did to Mary. I've been telling as many blabbermouths as I can to get their facts straight, the girl didn't actually die, but it hasn't really helped stem the tide. Gossip has a life of its own, and people are going to believe what they want. It's hitting Reeve harder than hard. I feel bad for the guy, but what else can I do? He did do some effed-up shit. The thing I can't figure out is who let that secret out. It definitely wasn't Lillia. And even if Alex knew, he wouldn't do that.

Finally Derek says, “Um, he might not be in school today. Or, if he is, he skipped our English quiz.”

Alex twists in his seat so he can see the clock on the wall.
“Okay. Well, we'd better get started.” Alex opens the meeting by using his empty soda bottle as a gavel. “Let this meeting of Jar Island prom committee officially come to order. It looks like we've got someone new with us today. Would you care to introduce yourself?”

Lillia laughs, and I roll my eyes. Alex is so corny sometimes. “Shut up, Alex. Look. Basically I'm here because I think it's a stupid-ass idea to have prom at a freaking nightclub all the way in Boston. I think we should have it here, on Jar Island, like we do every year.”

PJ shrugs his shoulders. “I doubt we'll be able to get a new location. It's already crawling with tourists again. This stuff needs to be reserved a year in advance.”

I fold my arms. “Well, then no one's going to come.”

Ash sighs. “I hate to say it, but Kat might be right. Nobody's buying tickets because they can't afford it.”

Lillia says, “Even if we did find another location, we don't have any funds to reserve it. We'll lose our deposit on the club for sure. They made us sign a contract and pay them in full.”

“What about our gym?” PJ suggests. “I bet the school would let us use it.”

No one says anything. Me either, actually, because a high school prom in our ugly gym sounds lame.

Lillia, being a good sport, clears her throat. “I mean, sure. I
guess we could ask the janitors to clear out the mats and light some scented candles to get rid of the smell.”

Ashlin moans, “OMG, this is going to be the most low-rent prom in history. Even worse than the time they had prom at that nursing home rec room a couple of years ago. Remember it smelled like Depends? I wonder if they're booked. . . .”

I glance across the table at Alex. “What about your house?”

“Huh?” He snorts. “My house is big, but we can't fit the entire senior class in it.”

“Then we'll rent a big tent and pitch it in the backyard. Didn't your uncle have his wedding there?”

“Third wedding. Yeah. And he invited a ton of people.” He cocks his head to the side. “This could work. My mom loves to put on an event. She was talking about throwing me a big graduation party. Maybe she could do this instead.”

“All right, cool,” I say. “But we're going to have to kick planning into high gear to get everything ready. I'll take the lead.” I open up my notebook and start delegating work and subcommittees and all that shit for the next thirty minutes straight, and everyone's nodding their heads, totally on board with me taking over.

A few weeks ago I planned on graduating without ever attending prom, and now I'm basically running the show.

The bell rings, and we head out. Ash drops her makeup bag
on her way out of the room, and Lillia picks it up and runs it to her. Ash takes it and quietly says thank you, but it's not exactly warm.

If I've learned anything this year, it's that life's too fucking short. I wasted too much time being angry and bitter. I wish I could go back in time and say a thousand things to Rennie. It's too late for that, but it's not too late for Ash and Lillia.

Chapter Forty-Eight
LILLIA

K
AT TEXTS ME ABOUT AN
emergency prom committee meeting at Ash's house, seven p.m. It makes sense. We've got so much to do. It's already April.

So after dinner I drive over to Ash's. I must be the first one to arrive, because there aren't any other cars in the driveway. Their housekeeper, Sheila, lets me in, and I go straight up to Ashlin's room. The door is closed, so I knock. She doesn't answer, so I poke my head in. She's asleep under the covers. Ashlin has always loved an after-school nap. I clear my throat. “Ash?”

Ashlin stirs and rolls over. “Lil?”

I stand in the doorway awkwardly. “Sorry I woke you up. Is anyone else here yet?”

Groggily Ash sits up. She's in one of her big cheerleading T-shirts and pink-and-green polka-dot underwear. Her fluffy blond hair looks like chicken feathers in the back. She looks so—Ash. I didn't realize how much I missed her until this moment. She checks her phone. “What are you talking about?”

“The emergency meeting.” That's when I realize—this is Kat's doing. She's trying to bring Ash and me back together. I can't believe it. I step in and perch at the edge of her bed. “Sorry. I guess I heard Kat wrong.”

Yawning, Ash eyes me. “So is it true you and Reeve are done-zo?”

I nod. “The whole thing was a mistake from the start.”

“I don't blame you for breaking up with him. You think you know somebody . . . I mean, bullying a girl so bad she kills herself?” Ash shakes her head.

“I know,” I say quietly. “Who told you?”

“Some girl from yearbook. She went to school with him at Montessori.”

My heart is beating wildly. “What's her name?”

“I don't remember. She has blond hair. Pretty. Kinda soft-spoken.”

Chills tickle my spine like piano keys. It's Mary. It has to be.

Ash continues, twirling her hair around her fingers. “When Reeve transferred back from Montessori, he seemed totally fine, like no big deal. You'd never have known a girl had just died because of him.”

“He was young,” I say, my voice thin. “And I think it hit him a lot harder than anybody knows. He just didn't let anybody see.”

“True. That's how he deals, right? He doesn't.” She leans back against her pillows. “When Ren died, I don't think I saw him cry once, and he knew her the longest of everybody. He just keeps things locked up inside. Like, I think that being with you might have been his way of not dealing with his pain.”

“We never should have been together in the first place.” Saying it out loud makes me feel like crying, but I know it's true.

“I don't know. I still think what went down was a betrayal to Ren. Like, no matter what, it was effed up, what you guys did. But I think you and I both know that Reeve never saw her that way. They never would have ended up together. And he's always had a thing for you, and Ren knew it.”

“No, he hasn't,” I say. “He hated me.”

“Maybe so, but freshman year he told Derek that you were the hottest girl in our class and he wanted to hit it.” Ashlin scratches her neck. “You've always had a love-hate thing. I've been thinking about this a lot. I wonder if Rennie's dying isn't what finally brought you guys together.”

I let this idea roll around in my head for a second. “What do you mean?”

Slowly she says, “Well . . . I don't know. I mean, you guys knew her best. So maybe it was a natural thing for you to reach out to each other when she died. Maybe that's why it was so intense and crazy.”

The thought never occurred to me. Because Reeve and I started having feelings for each other before Rennie died. But now I'm starting to wonder if things would've gotten so serious with us if Rennie hadn't died. We were both grieving for our friend, and then everybody was shunning us and all we had was each other. It was us against the world. I never knew Ash had such a perceptive side. But she's making sense.

My eyes well up. “I miss you. I know I messed up. But, Ash, high school's almost over, and I don't want to leave it like this, with you hating me.”

Ash looks down at her comforter. “I don't
hate
you.”

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