Fire With Fire (12 page)

“If you apologize, he will,” I say. “Guys like him, they love
a little push-pull. They don’t want it to be too easy. Tell him
you’re sorry and it’ll be fine. Right, Mary?”
Mary nods.
Lillia goes silent, and I can tell she’s thinking it over. She
lifts her head and sucks in her lips. “Rennie would be hella
pissed.” A grin blooms across her face. “Okay,” she says at
last. “I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure?” Mary asks her.
Lil lets out a deep breath. “I’m in.”
Mary practically sags in gratitude. “Thank you. Thank
you, Lillia.”
I grab Lil’s shoulders and give her a shake. “Yes! Lillia
Cho, HBIC!”
She laughs, and I grin at Mary. A hopeful smile is spreading
across her face. “Operation Break Reeve’s Heart begins on
Saturday!” I crow. “My house.”
“Why not right now?” Lillia asks me.
I shake my head. “First we need ammo. I’ll show you on
Saturday after I’m done with the SAT. Just you wait, my
pretty.”
CHAP
TER NINETEEN

I park a block away from Kat’s house, to be on
the safe side. The houses are a lot closer together here, and
mostly split-levels. There aren’t the big hedges and gates
that the houses in White Haven have, so everybody can see
everything. Rennie lives pretty close by, and Reeve does too,
so I’m not taking any chances. On Jar Island, you never know
who’s watching.

I ring the doorbell, but no one answers. The plan was to meet
here after Kat took the SATs. You couldn’t pay me to take them
again, even if I was guaranteed a perfect score.

I wait before I ring it a second time. A minute goes by and
still nothing. The light’s on in the kitchen, though. Somebody’s
home. Gingerly, I touch the door handle, and it’s unlocked,
the way it always was. “Hello?” I call out, opening the door a
crack. “Kat?”

When we were growing up, Kat’s house was like that—
neighborhood kids were always running in and out the front
door, and nobody minded. My mom would have been all,
Would you mind taking your shoes off at the door, and also, does
your mother know you’re over here, and who wants some Greek
yogurt with blueberries?
At Kat’s house it was a free-for-all; we
would stuff our faces with Cheetos and Mountain Dew and
play video games for hours and nobody would bother us. It was
kid heaven.

“Hello?” I call out again.
A guy’s voice says, “It’s open.”
I venture into the kitchen, and there is Patrick, sitting at the

table, eating cereal without a shirt on, even though it’s well past
lunchtime. He looks sweaty and dirty, like he recently got back
from riding around on his bike. His shoulders are freckled the
way I remember, but he’s not so skinny anymore—still lean,
but stronger looking. His eyes widen for a split second; then he
grins. “What are you doing on this side of the island, little girl?”

My throat feels dry all of a sudden. “Hi, Patrick.”
He drawls, “Are you here to see Kat, or me?”
I feel myself blush. “Kat. We—we have a project at school.

Did she finish the SATs?”
“Yeah. She ran out for something. Cigarettes, I think,” he
says, and then he starts eating his cereal again, like it’s perfectly
normal that I’m in his house and he doesn’t have a shirt on.
With his mouth full he asks, “Want some cereal?”
“What kind?”
“Your favorite,” he says, and he points to the seat next to
him. “Sit down.”
Even though I had chicken salad on a croissant an hour ago,
I sit down, and he gets up and brings a box of Trix, which
is
my
favorite, a jug of milk, and a spoon. He tips more Trix into his
bowl and pushes it so it’s between us.
“Bon appetit, Lil,” he says, handing me the spoon.
And then we’re both eating Trix, from the same bowl, and he
smells like outside and wind and motor oil.
I can’t believe Patrick remembered that Trix was my favorite.
I haven’t seen him in years, and also he goes to college now, so
why should he remember anything about me?
It’s funny, because even though my crush on him was
so long ago, sitting across from him now at Kat’s kitchen
table, it feels like yesterday that I loved Patrick and that
Rennie and Kat and I were best friends.
RKL till we die.
He’s telling me about some philosophy class he’s taking at
the community college, and I’m nodding hard like I’m paying
attention, but all I can think about is how his eyes are green like
evergreen, same as before—when Kat comes home. She looks
surprised to see me, even though we said we were hanging out
this afternoon.
Leaning against the doorway, she says, “What are you guys
doing?”
“Eating cereal. What does it look like?” Patrick says, and I
giggle.
Kat shoots me a strange look. “Bring it up to my room, Lil.”
Then she heads down the hallway.
I stand up. “Do you mind?” I ask him. “If I take it with me?”
“Be my guest,” he says.
Cradling the bowl against my chest, I say, “Thanks for the
cereal, Patrick.”
“Anytime, Lil.” He winks at me, and I press my lips together
so I don’t smile. Then I trail after Kat, to her room.
“What the hell was that?” Kat asks me. She’s lounging on her
bed with her shoes on. Ew.
“What?” I say, sinking onto the floor. I know we were supposed to be keeping everything on the DL, but it’s not like it’s
my fault Pat is home.
“You know what,” she says, smirking at me. She shakes her
head. “That lowlife is skipping class again. Such a loser. I have
no idea why you were always so gaga over my gross brother.
He goes to JICC; isn’t that beneath you? ’Cause it’s sure as shit
beneath me.”
Stiffly I say, “I was never
gaga
over Patrick. Also there’s nothing wrong with community college. He says he’s probably going
to transfer soon anyway.” So I guess Kat’s known all along. I
never told her I had a crush on Patrick; I only told Rennie, who
swore up and down she’d never tell. Yet another betrayal.
Kat snorts. “Oh, sweet naive Lil. He ain’t going anywhere.
He has, like, two credits. He’ll be stuck on Jar Island for the rest
of his damn life.”
“How did the SAT go?”
“Hell if I know.”
I concentrate on eating my cereal fast, because it’s getting
soggy. “When’s Mary coming?” I ask, wiping milk off my chin.
“I think she said she had to do something with her aunt first,
and then she’d either get a ride from her or bike over.”
“Cool,” I say. I drink my sweet cereal milk, and then I put
the bowl down on the carpet. I take off my flats and crawl onto
the bed next to Kat. She scoots over for me. Staring up at the
ceiling I say, “So, um, did Patrick ever say anything about me?”
Kat busts out laughing and hits me over the head with her
banana pillow. I laugh too, and then I burst out, “I can’t believe
Rennie told you I liked Patrick when she explicitly promised
she never would. She swore on her mom’s life!”
Giggling, Kat says, “Even if she didn’t tell me, it was so
obvious. You used to think up excuses for why we should have
sleepovers over here instead of at Rennie’s!”
“Well, that was partly because of Shep.” My mom is supposedly allergic to dogs, so we’ve never been allowed to have one,
no matter how much we beg. I think it’s because she doesn’t
want a dog on our white furniture. Sitting up, I call out, “Shep!
C’mere, Shep!”
Shep comes bounding into the room, and he jumps on the
bed and kisses my face. I hug him to me. “Hello, sweet boy,” I
say in his ear.
“Remember those skanks Pat used to bring home?” Kat asks
me suddenly. “They were always way older and they’d smoke
inside the house. Remember that one time?”

Of course I remember. I was thirteen during the height of my
Patrick crush, so I guess he was fifteen or sixteen at the time, and
the girls he hung out with seemed like women to me. They had
boobs and they cussed and they rode around on the back of his
motorcycle.

There was this one girl, Beth. It was the middle of the day,
and Rennie and Kat and I were in the TV room blasting music,
practicing a routine from one of those dance movies where people have dance-offs in the rain in a parking lot.

“Lil, you have to roll your hips back like this,” Rennie
instructed me, demonstrating.
She and Kat started doing it together in perfect unison.
“Loosen up, Lil,” Kat said. “You’re too stiff.”
Haltingly, I tried to follow their lead and get the motion.
That’s when Patrick and Beth came in. They burst out laughing,
and I stopped immediately, but Rennie and Kat ignored them
and kept on going, even when they sat down on the couch and
watched.
Beth had auburn hair; it was long enough to put in a ponytail,
but barely. She had on a ton of eyeliner and no lipstick, and a
big black T-shirt with slashed arms that she wore as a dress. She
looked like she was twenty-two even though she was probably
only eighteen. “Look at those little hoochies in the making,” she
cracked, lighting up a cigarette. Her voice was low and husky.
Patrick snorted, and I lowered my eyes. Through my lashes I
sneaked a peek at her. She had her legs stretched out on the coffee table even though she still had shoes on. “Let’s go upstairs,”
I whispered, but Kat ignored me.
“Us?” Kat said. “Look at you. Where are your pants? In the
back of somebody’s truck?”
Beth guffawed with hoarse laughter and took a drag of her
cigarette. She looked sexy when she did it, like she was in a
movie.
“Excuse me, but you’re not allowed to smoke in the house,”
Rennie said, her hands on her hips.
Patrick tapped a cigarette out of Beth’s box. “Go play outside, little girls. We want to watch TV.” They smirked at each
other.
“We were here first,” Rennie said.
Patrick gave her a threatening look, and Kat said, “Fine, fine.
We’re going.” To us she said, “Come on, let’s go.” At the last
second she snatched Beth’s pack of cigarettes and made a run
for it with us close behind her. We ran out the screen door and I
could hear Patrick’s roar.
I never felt more my age than that moment. I wanted to be
eighteen and not thirteen. I wanted Patrick to look at me like he
was looking at her.
And more than anything, what I wanted was to ride on the
back of Patrick’s motorcycle. Once, to see what it felt like to
go that fast, with only him to anchor me to the world. My parents would have sent me to a convent if I’d ever even said that
out loud. They’d made me promise I would never ride on Pat’s
motorcycle; that was the condition of me being allowed to hang
out at Kat’s house.
I’ve never broken a promise to my parents before, but if
Patrick asked me to go for a ride on his bike right now, I’d do
it. I wouldn’t even hesitate. To feel that wild and free. I want to
know what that feels like.

We’re eating candy-apple popcorn and listening to music—Kat’s
favorite band, but it’s making my head hurt, it’s so loud—so we
don’t hear Mary when gets here. She bounds into the room, her
cheeks all rosy and pink, already so much better than she looked
on Thursday. “Mary!” I sing out.

“Hi, hi!” she says, coming over by the bed. She’s about to sit
down with us when Shep bares his teeth and growls at her.
Kat grabs him by the collar and gives him a shake. To Shep
she says, “Cut that shit out.” To Mary she says, “He’s harmless,
I swear.”
Mary gives a nervous laugh and sits on the floor. “Dogs usually love me.”
“I can kick him out,” Kat offers, getting up.
“No,” I protest. “Let me cuddle with him. Mary, he won’t
come near you.”
“Fine by me,” she says, giggling. “Nice doggie.”
Shep darts under the bed, and I crawl over and try to lure
him out with a handful of popcorn, and he looks tempted but
doesn’t come out. I offer Mary the can. “It’s so good,” I say,
dangling it in front of her.
Mary makes a face. “You only like super-sweet things, Lillia.”
“That’s cause I’m so sweet,” I say in a singsong voice. She
smiles back at me, and I climb into Kat’s hammock.
Kat snorts and goes to her closet. She throws me a shopping
bag of clothes. “Here. Ammo.”
Before I even open it, I say, “Just so you know, I’m not wearing fishnets.”
“There aren’t any fishnets in there, you beotch.” She plops
down on her bed and watches me as I start going through the bag.
A pink strapless corseted top. A lacy black corseted top.
Cream thigh-high socks made out of soft yarn. A bandage
skirt so short it might even be a tube top; I can’t tell. The socks
are kind of cute, but this other stuff looks like Frederick’s of
Hollywood. Totally not my style.
“Kat, did you steal all this?” I ask. I’m mostly kidding.
Kat rolls her eyes. “You know I don’t steal, beotch. That’s
your girl Rennie. Oh, and BTW, you owe me a hundred and
sixty bucks.”
I lift up a stretchy long-sleeved minidress. It’s basically a ballet leotard. “I’m not wearing this!” I shriek. “I’ll look like a
prostitute.”
“I have that in purple,” Kat says, glaring at me.
Whoops . . . “It’s not really my look,” I say. “I mean, I’m
sure you look amazing in it. But it’s not me.” I spot a black lace
corset at the bottom of the pile. “You expect me to go to school
in lingerie?”
Kat scoots over to the edge of the bed. “So what! You’re
gonna look hot. You strut into school wearing that and some
high-ass heels, and Reeve’s head will be spinning. All you have
to do is wear the clothes; then you catch his eye. Next comes
physical contact, a touch on the arm, a hand on his knee. Then
you talk to other guys and inspire jealousy. It’s simple.”
“Um, excuse me, but I know how to talk to boys,” I snap. As
if I need Kat to give me advice on how to get a boy to notice me!
I add, “For your information, I set a student-council record last
Valentine’s Day for most roses ever sent to a girl at Jar High.”
True, a dozen were from my dad, but I got roses from boys, too.
I even beat out Rennie. She kept saying how I wouldn’t have
won if it haven’t been for my dad. Now that I’m thinking of it,
I’ll beat her this year too. I’ll do whatever it takes, talk to ugly
freshmen dorks if I have to.
Kat heaves a sigh. “Fine. If you’re not going to wear this
stuff, then what do you have in mind?”
I pop some popcorn into my mouth and think. “Well, I have
this cute blouse with a bow at the collar; I could wear that with
these amazing gray flannel shorts that roll up on the bottom. I
saw them online last night.”
Mary and Kat exchange a look.
Kat leans forward. “Listen. The way I see it, you’re more of a
Jackie O type. You’re classy and refined and stylish.”
I give her a nod. “True, true, and true.”
Rolling her eyes, Kat continues. “But we need you to be
a Marilyn. Sexy. A bombshell. Like, we don’t want Reeve to
want to bring you home to his mom. We want him to
want
you.
Hard-core obsession want. Blue balls want—”
“Okay, okay! I get it!” Giggling, I fall back into the hammock. “But you guys, he’s
so
gross. I’ll be throwing up in my
mouth every time I have to pretend cozy up to him.”
Kat tosses the stretchy dress at my head. “At least try it on.”
Mary says, “Yeah, Lil. Anything’s going to look pretty on you.”
I groan.
“Lil, trust me on this. I know what I’m talking about. Do
you know how many lead singers I made out with this summer?
Four! There were hotter girls there than me, but I’m the one
they picked out of the crowd. You wanna know why? Attitude.
It’s all about attitude. You act like you’re hot shit and guys are
so dumb they’ll totally believe it.”
She’s completely right. Look at Rennie. Rennie’s all attitude.
Whatever she wants, she gets. She has the whole school under
her spell. Forget Marilyn. I’ll just channel Rennie.
I pick up the dress. “So what do you guys want me to wear
first? This streetwalker dress or this bra top?”
Mary squeals, and Kat’s eyes gleam as she says, “Definitely
the dress.”