Fire With Fire (30 page)

The woman hangs up the phone and lets out a pained sigh.
“Tough day on the job?” I ask.
She chuckles dryly. “You could say. Now, may I help you?

You’ve been waiting so very patiently, and I appreciate that.”
I want to say,
You don’t need to be so condescending, you
bitch,
but instead I smile. This woman must think I’m some
kind of feral cat in from the streets. “Ms. Chirazo from the high
school called about me today.”
The woman eyes me. I guess however Ms. Chirazo pitched me,
I’m not exactly measuring up. “Of course. Yes. Well, we’re happy
to have you, Katherine.” She gets up from behind her desk. “Let
me show you to the basement, where you’ll be working.”
Of course.
She ushers me down a creaky stairway. The basement has not
received the same designy care as the upstairs. It’s an artificially
bright room with no windows and ceilings so low we need to
hunch if we don’t want to knock ourselves out.
“You’ll need to go through these documents, scan the front
pages, and then save them to the hard drive.” She shows me a
thing that looks like a paper shredder. “It goes quick; you slide
the documents through this and the scanner takes a picture.
Try to get them to go in straight. And be extra careful with any
paper that’s turned yellow.”
“What is all this stuff?”
The woman laughs through her nose. “A little of everything,
really. Town charters, newspapers, land surveys.” She’s already
halfway up the stairs. “Let me know if you need anything.”
I shrug off my jacket. I’d love to bust right up out of here,
but I can’t. I’ll be working here until spring, probably. Ugh. The
things I’ll do for Oberlin. For fuck’s sake.
CHAP
TER FIF
T
Y -FIVE

Mrs. Lind has gone all-out this year. There
are red-bow-tied waiters walking around passing out fancy
little bites like mini lump crab cakes and pear latke cakes with
truffled crème fraiche on top, plus there’s a carving station and
a raw bar and all kinds of chocolate goodies.

It’s a packed house, people everywhere. My parents are by the
Christmas tree talking to some friends from the yacht club. My
mom looks so beautiful tonight. She’s wearing a white dress that
drapes on the side, and she got her hair done in an updo. She tried
to get Nadia and me to go with her and get our hair done too,
but Nadia hates the way anyone else does her hair, and while I
would normally jump at the chance to get a blowout, I wasn’t in
the mood.

I’m in that blue silk dress again, the one I wore to Reeve’s open
house. I put my hair in a ponytail and I’ve got on my platform
booties because they’re my most comfortable dressy shoe. It’s not
like I’m trying to impress anyone tonight.

I’m sitting with Alex on the comfy couch in the living room,
sharing a chocolate tart with whipped cream on top. He snuck
us some mulled cider, too, although I doubt our parents would
care. I don’t know where Nadia is—probably playing Guitar
Hero in the pool house with Alex’s cousins. We’re the only kids
at the party, only I guess we’re not kids anymore. That’s what
Alex’s mom said, that we should stay and socialize with the adults
because we’re practically adults ourselves. I’m hoping my parents
won’t want to stay too late, because we only took one car.

“Why so glum, Lil?” Alex asks me. “Christmas is in three
days.”
I’ve got a forkful of chocolate tart halfway to my mouth.
“Glum? I’m not glum. Sorry if I seem that way . . . I guess I’m just
tired. I went to the barn really early this morning.”
“How is Phantom?”
“Oh, he’s good.” I take another forkful of tart. “I can’t believe
you remember his name.”
Alex gives me a wounded look. “Of course I remember. I’ve
seen you compete. Remember, back in freshman year? You used
to ride, like, every day. Phantom was all you talked about.”
I laugh. “I guess I was kind of a horsey girl for a while there.”
I reach over and grab my clutch off the coffee table. “I got you
something for Christmas.”
Alex chews fast and swallows. “No way.”
Shyly, I nod. “I wanted to say thank you. You’ve been so great
to me this year.” I quick pull out the present from my clutch. I
could barely fit my lipstick and compact inside with it because it
takes up so much room.
Alex looks touched. He turns the whole thing over in his
hands, and I’m glad I took special care in wrapping it up. I used a
special shiny gold foil paper and tied it with a cream silk ribbon.
He opens it slowly, careful not to rip the paper. He pulls out the
long, whiskey-colored piece of leather and stares at it without saying anything.
“It’s a guitar strap,” I say, because maybe he thinks it’s a belt?
I take it from him and turn it over. “I had them emboss your initials in the leather. I picked the font out myself. Anyway, the lady
said it’s adjustable, so you can wear it high and tight like Johnny
Cash, or low like the punk-rock kids do.” I hand it back to him.
“I wasn’t sure what style you’re into.”
“Lil,” he says quietly, and then looks up at me. “This is so cool.”
I beam a smile. “Really? You like it?”
Alex nods, but then suddenly stands up from the couch and
stares across the room. “Oh, shit.”
I look up, and there’s Reeve, wearing his puffy vest and standing in front of the buffet table with a beer in his hand. He’s cutting
himself a piece of the pork tenderloin and eating it with his fingers.
I stand up too, my heart pounding. “Did you invite him?”
“No,” Alex sneers. “I definitely didn’t.”
Now Reeve’s taking a swig of the beer, finishing it in one
long gulp. He’s looking around the room; he hasn’t seen us yet.
But he spots Alex’s uncle Tim, and he goes up to him and claps
him on the back so hard that some champagne tips out of Uncle
Tim’s flute.
“He’s drunk,” Alex says with disgust. “We have to get him out
of here.”
Alex strides across the room, and I follow him. He goes up to
Reeve and puts his hand on his shoulder. “What are you doing
here, man?” He’s trying to sound light, but it’s not working.
Reeve turns around unsteadily. “Your mom let me in.” Then he
sees me standing behind Alex. “Whaddup, Cho.”
“Hey.”
Alex starts hustling Reeve out of the room and out the back
door, toward the pool house, with Reeve protesting and stumbling all the way.
Reeve pushes Alex away from him when we’re outside. “What
the hell? I’m not welcome at your house all of a sudden? I thought
we were BFFs, bro.”
“You weren’t invited,” Alex says, his voice hard. “And no, bro,
we’re not best friends. Not anymore.”
I wrap my arms around myself, shivering. I left my coat inside.
Reeve juts his chin at me. “What is it you have against winter
coats?” He starts to shrug out of his puffer coat.
“I’m fine,” I say.
“‘I’m fine,’” he mimics back. Then Reeve’s lip curls. “Whatever.
Freeze to death, then. See if I care.”
My eyes well up. He’s being so mean. Is this how it’s going to
be with us now?
“You should go,” Alex says, stepping in front of me.
Reeve throws up his hands. “All right. I can see that I’m not
wanted. Ungracious prick. I’m out.” He yells out toward the pool
house, “Merry Christmas, kids! Santa’s getting his ass kicked out.”
And then he stumbles off toward the gate.
Nadia and a couple of Alex’s older cousins have come outside; they’re watching us from the front of the pool house with
wide eyes.
I take Alex’s arm. “He shouldn’t drive,” I say. “He’s drunk.”
Alex doesn’t make a move; he just watches as Reeve stalks off.
I push Alex in Reeve’s direction as hard as I can. “Hurry, Alex!”
Reluctantly, Alex follows him. “Give me your keys. I’ll drive
you home.”
Reeve tosses his keys out onto the lawn. “Nah, I’ll walk.”
“Reeve!” I call out. “Let him take you.”
But he’s already halfway down the street, his black puffy coat
blending into the night sky. I go looking for his keys, but it’s too
dark. Alex comes back to my side and shrugs. “Give me your
phone,” I say to him, and he hands it to me. I use it like a flashlight
and I comb through the grass.
Behind me, Alex says, “We should go back inside. It’s freezing
out here. I’ll find them in the morning.”
I ignore him and keep searching. My fingers finally close on
the hard, cold metal, and I clutch them in my hand. Then I hold
them up in front of Alex. “You should go after him. He’s drunk;
it’s going to take him hours to get home with his bad leg. He could
get hit by a car.”
Alex’s face is impassive. “He’s not going to listen. He’s too
stubborn.”
“Please try.”
Alex stares at me for a second, and then he says, “What’s going
on with you guys?” He runs his hands through his hair and
squinches up his face, like he’s afraid to hear the answer. “Please
don’t lie to me.”
I don’t say anything. I don’t want to lie to him. I feel like I’ve
been lying to everybody lately, and I’m sick of it. Alex deserves
better than that.
“We’ve . . . hung out a few times.”
Alex watches me intently. “Did you guys hook up?”
I take a deep breath. “We kissed. But that’s all over with. It was
a stupid mistake.” Alex stares at the ground. He won’t look at me.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Alex says,
finally looking up. Thankfully, he doesn’t sound angry. Just
bummed. He takes the keys from me. “Thanks again for my
present.”
“You’re welcome.” I watch as he jogs over to Reeve’s truck,
parked in front of Alex’s neighbor’s driveway. He gets in and
drives off.
Nadia comes running up to me and asks, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I say, putting my arm around her. “Let’s go back
inside.”

The next day, I’m lying on the couch, watching TV and texting
with Ash, when my dad comes into the living room and sits down
next to me. “What are you watching?” he asks me.

I don’t look up so I can keep texting. “I don’t know, some
Christmas special.”
What the h happened at Alex’s?? I heard Reeve showed up and
they got into a fight and Lindy kicked him out!
Hardly. Is that what people are saying??
Ren said she had to pick up Reeve off the side of the road!
Of course he called Rennie for a ride. Of course he did.

“Have you finished your Wellesley supplement yet?” my dad
asks me.
“Yup, pretty much,” I say. It’s almost true because it’s almost
done.
Casually he says, “Do you want me to take a look at it before
you send it off?”
“That’s okay,” I say. “I already showed it to my guidance
counselor.”

What was he even upset about?
No clue. What did Ren say?
She made excuses for him as always. He’s got her on the hook.
So true.
“It wouldn’t hurt to have another pair of eyes.”

I finally look up from my phone. “Daddy . . . I don’t even
know if I want to go to Wellesley.”
Frowning, he says, “I thought we all agreed you’d at least
apply.”
“I’m applying, but even if I get in, I don’t know if I want to go
there.” I scroll Ash’s and my text conversation and reread what
she wrote. “Just because Mommy loved it at an all-girls school,
that doesn’t mean I will.”
“I want you to apply so you have the option,” my dad says.
“Understood?”
I nod. Fine. I don’t even know if I’ll get in, so whatever.
He clears his throat the way he does when he’s uncomfortable.
“The other night at the Linds . . . was that friend of yours drunk?”
I keep my eyes down, but my heart jumps. “What friend?”
“Reeve. That’s his name, right?”
I’m surprised my dad knows his name. My mom probably told
him. “No, he wasn’t drunk.” My dad looks skeptical, so I say it
again with more emphasis. “He wasn’t drunk, Daddy! He’s not
like that. He’s an athlete.”
“All right, all right. I trust you. I just want you to be careful
of who you hang out with. Right now you should be focused on
your college applications and finishing out senior year well. Don’t
get complacent.”
I want to snap back at him, but I don’t, because that’s not done
in our family. You don’t talk back. It makes me mad when my dad
comes home and tries to play the part of the involved parent when
he’s hardly ever even here. He doesn’t have the right to tell me
what to do. Calmly I say, “I am very focused on my applications,
Daddy. In fact, I’m going upstairs to finish up my common app
right now.” I stand up.
“That’s my girl,” my dad says, giving me an approving nod.
When I get up to my room, I flop down on my bed and call
Ash. “Rennie and Reeve deserve each other,” I say.
I can hear her munching on something. “I think Ren deserves
better. He’s been stringing her along since we were kids. She gives
him whatever he wants and he takes, takes, takes. It’s like the
freaking Giving Tree.”
I would hardly call Rennie a Giving Tree, but I don’t say so.
Ash continues. “He’s all about himself. He couldn’t care less
about anyone else.”
I don’t know if that’s true. In fact, I’m sure it’s not.

I remember the first time I ever met Reeve. It was back when our
house was being built. Nadia was little then. I was seven.

I never saw the house that used to be there. Just pictures of it.
It was a two-story house with a wraparound front porch, decorative shutters, and a big iron weather vane. It wasn’t at all my
parents’ style. But my mom was set on the spot. It was a large plot,
two acres, with a perfect view of the sea. The man who lived there
wasn’t even planning to sell, but Dad had a lawyer send him a letter and he offered a ton of money.

The day after Dad and Mom signed the papers, they had the
house bulldozed.
This was back when White Haven wasn’t all megamansions. I
mean, the houses were definitely big, but I don’t remember many
of them having in-ground pools or elevators or five-car garages.
It was more about the land. There was a lot of space between the
houses, privacy, and they really did have the best views on the
whole island. I guess in that way it was destined to end up the way
it did. Owned by rich people.
Anyway, since my mom was the one who worked on the plans,
she liked to visit the site and see how things were progressing.
One time she took Nadia and me with her.
When we got to the site, they’d poured the concrete foundation
and had started framing out the rooms with two-by-fours. There
were at least ten pickup trucks parked on the lawn and one big
yellow dump truck.
“Oh good Lord,” Mom muttered. “We’ll have to resod the
whole front lawn.”
I remember being totally amazed by how big our house was
going to be. We’d only ever lived in apartments. Granted, they
were luxury apartments, but you still had people living right on
the other side of your walls. This house was humongous.
There were a bunch of workmen milling around. They all
seemed to have big round stomachs. I held Nadia’s hand and
stood close to my mom, while she talked to one of the contractors. Even though it was hot out, Mom wore a black suit and
heels, and she kept her sunglasses on even when we were inside
the house.
She was arguing about the staircase. She kept pointing to her
plans, telling him he needed to follow her directions or else she’d
hire another crew. The man scoffed. “We’re the only crew on the
island.” My mom said, “I’ll send them in on the ferry and rent
them a house.” And that basically shut him up.
While my mom was getting stern with him, he kept looking
down at me and Nadia. I think he didn’t like being yelled at by a
lady, and especially not in front of children.
And then, suddenly, I felt a big slap on my back.
“Tag!”
I spun around. There was a boy a little taller than me, with a
big smile that showed nearly all his teeth, rocking his weight from
one foot to the other.
“Reeve!” the man yelled. “I told you to stay put in my truck.”
“You have
children
running around this work zone?” my mom
said, exasperated.
“He was supposed to be at football camp, but my wife apparently wrote the wrong date on the calendar. And she’s away visiting her sister, so . . . I did what I had to do.”
Reeve blinked at me a few times. Then he slapped my arm and
said, “Tag,” again. And then he added, “You’re it,” and said the
words slowly, as if I didn’t understand English.
“I know how to play tag,” I said, as mean as I could. I hated
when people did that, assumed that because I was Asian, I didn’t
know English. It drove me crazy.
“Doesn’t seem like it.” He hustled backward away from me.
I dropped Nadia’s hand and sprinted after him.
Mom and the man shouted after us, but I didn’t stop. I wanted
to catch him so badly.
Though the man had said Reeve wasn’t usually on site, he
sure whipped around through my house like he’d been there
before. He knew all these places to twist and turn. He jumped
over a pile of wood, ducked under two sawhorses. He was
quick, but I was too. I would have been faster if I hadn’t had
on dress shoes.
He was almost in my reach when he twisted into a door frame.
At the very last second it was like he changed his mind, he didn’t
want to go through. But I was already on top of him. I crashed
into him and tagged him as hard as I could, and he went flying
into the room, skidding across the floor.
It was freshly poured wet concrete. He left the craziest skid
mark.
I gasped.
“Damn it, Reeve!”
I turned around, and there was Reeve’s dad, red in the face. He
stepped into the room, big boot prints on the concrete. I guess he
didn’t care about ruining it, since Reeve had already taken care of
that. He picked Reeve up by the back of his shirt, like cats do to
their babies. Only he wasn’t gentle. He looked like he was going
to kill Reeve. And Reeve looked scared. His whole face changed.
My voice came out in a squeak. “I—It’s my—”
It was my fault, I’d pushed him, but Reeve didn’t let me say it.
“Sorry, Dad. I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”
Mom and Nadia came up then, and they gasped too.
Reeve’s dad, seeing them, set Reeve down. “We’ll fix this right
up—no charge, of course.” He glared down at Reeve. “Get in the
truck. Now,” he said through gritted teeth.
I felt so bad. Mom put me and Nadia in the car. As we drove
away, I saw Reeve sitting in the bed of his dad’s truck, like he’d
been told. He didn’t look scared anymore.
He grinned at me.
CHAP
TER FIF
T
Y -SIX