Fire With Fire (7 page)

After the meeting, I’m heading home when I hear a shrill whistle
coming from the school pool. Is Reeve is still there? Even though
I know it’s probably not the best idea, I can’t help but be curious.
How much is Reeve improving? Is there a chance for him to
maybe get those football scholarships after all?

I sneak in and watch him. Reeve’s in the water in his swim
trunks. His big black soft cast is up on the bleachers. The man is
sitting up on the side of the pool, his legs dangling in the water.
He’s not in a swimsuit. He has his track pants rolled up to his
knees.

“All right, Reeve, now I want you to hold on to the side here
and kick your legs frog-style for fifteen-second intervals for the
next three minutes.” He puts his coaching whistle back in his
mouth. “Set . . .”

Reeve lets out a groan.
“Unless you can’t do it,” the man adds, teasingly.
And Reeve loses it. He snaps, “Of course I can do it. That’s

not the issue.”
“Then what is?”
Reeve seethes, “The issue is, I can do it for sixty-second

intervals.”
“So?”
“So why aren’t we in the gym, putting me on the treadmill?”
The man blinks a few times. “You’re not ready for the gym

“You don’t know that. You haven’t even tried to push me.
Trust me. I can be doing so much more than I am right now.”
The man shakes his head. “Son, you need to accept your
injury, not fight it. It’s going to take time to heal.”
Reeve pulls himself half out of the water. Even though he’s
dripping wet and shivering, his cheeks are bright, fiery red. “I
found this article online about a guy who broke his fibula and
five weeks after, he was back running seven-minute miles. That’s
the kind of ‘Eye of the Tiger’ I need you to have. That’s the level
I want you to push me.”
The man sighs. “Reeve, look. There’s no way you’re getting
back on the football field this season. I want you to get that out
of your head.”
Reeve tightens every single muscle. “I know that! I know
I’m not playing this season. But college camps start in February,
man. I need to be able to hold my own. If I can’t, do you understand what that means for me? If I don’t play football, then I
don’t go to college. End of story. It’s a wrap.”
Instead of getting riled up, the guy calmly puts his clipboard
down and folds his hands in his lap. “It’s a process, Reeve. One
step at a time. If you get there, you get there. But you need to
prepare yourself for the
if
.”
Reeve recoils at the word, and then shakes his head, like he’s
trying to forget he ever heard it. “You know what? I’m going to
do this on my own.”
“Reeve—”
“Did you not hear me? You’re fired. Your services aren’t
needed.” Reeve hoists himself out of the water. He tries to put a
little weight on his leg, but can’t. So he ends up hopping over to
his towel. Under his breath he mutters a few curse words.
The physical therapist shakes his head and packs up his stuff.
He walks out of the pool, right past me in the hallway.
Reeve sits on the bench a while longer, dripping puddles of
water on the concrete floor. I’m thinking he’ll pack it in and head
home, but instead he slides back into the water and assumes the
position at the shallow end. He does the exercise he was told to
do, the frog kicks, but without stopping for a full minute. And
then he does that five more times.
It’s crazy, how similar we are. Here’s both of us, working
through our stuff, trying to make something positive out of
something really bad.
CHAP
TER NINE

Trick-or-treating on the island isn’t really
a thing; there are too many dead spots—vacation houses that
are empty all fall and winter. So the elementary school has an
“alternative Halloween” that they call Fall Fest. After school,
the kids go home, change into their costumes, and come back
to find the entire school decked out all spookily. There are a
bunch of fun Halloweeny activities, like apple bobbing and face
painting and a candy scavenger hunt. Officially, the elementary
school PTA runs it, but there’s always a senior liaison who is
basically in charge of finding high schoolers to man booths and
drum up support. This year it’s me. Rennie was supposed to
cochair with me, but once actual planning meetings started, she
bailed.

It’s Friday, and we’re at the lunch table, and Ashlin’s begging
Rennie to tell her what her costume is. “Come on, Ren! Ash
wheedles. I told you mine.”

Rennie shakes her head smugly. “You have to wait and see.”
I stir my frozen yogurt around with a spoon. I’m too stressed
out about organizing Fall Fest to be hungry. I’ve got my to-do
list out, and there are still a bunch of to-dos not ticked off. I
have today, the weekend, and then two days next week to get
everything set. I’m still waiting to hear back on how many cupcakes Milky Morning is going to donate. And Sutton’s might
not donate as much candy this year, so I need a backup plan if
they don’t come through.

But my biggest problem right now is that I don’t have enough
booth coverage. I got Nadia and her friends to do the scavenger
hunt, and I got the drama kids to do a campfire story hour, but
I still need judges for the costume contest.

And then there’s the face-painting booth.
Ever since freshman year, Rennie and I have manned the facepainting booth. We’d paint butterflies and stars and tiger stripes
on the little kids’ faces. It was our thing. I think it will be a perfect opportunity for us to talk, away from Ashlin and Reeve and
everybody else. Just me and Rennie, like it used to be.
I take a deep breath and say to her, “We’re still doing the
face-painting booth, right?”
Rennie scrunches her face up. “I don’t think I can. Sorry.”
Except she doesn’t look sorry.
“That’s okay,” I say. But it’s not. It’s far from okay.
“I need time to get into my costume. Fall Fest is at what, five?
And over at eight? There won’t be enough time, even if I rush
home after school.” Rennie shrugs. “Plus, some of us are going
to pregame at Ash’s before we head over to the haunted maze.”
What? Everybody’s pregaming at Ashlin’s and nobody told
me about it? I whip my head around to look at Ash, who’s suddenly preoccupied with her salad. “Does this mean you can’t do
the dunk booth with Derek?” I demand.
Her hair hanging in her face, she says softly, “No . . . sorry,
Lil. Ren scored some spicy rum from her job, and she found this
yum cocktail we can make with it and apple cider. You should
come too!”
“How am I going to do that?” I cry out. “I’m supposed to
run this thing, and you guys said you’d help me!”
“I’m so, so sorry,” Ashlin says, her eyes fluttery and regretful.
From the end of the table Alex says, “Lil, I’ll be there.”
“Thanks, Alex,” I say. In a louder voice I say, “It’s nice to
know that I can count on somebody.”
Ashlin pouts at me. “Forgive me, Lil.”
I ignore her and cast a spiteful look in Reeve’s direction. For
the past three years he’s come to Fall Fest dressed up like Jason
in
Friday the 13th
. Back when we were freshmen the senior girls
asked him to do it, and it became kind of a Jar Island tradition.
Reeve wears a white hockey mask and chases the kids around
with a chain saw. The kids
love
it. They love him. I’ve asked him
repeatedly, but he won’t do it. Fine, he is on crutches, but he
could at least show up in the costume.
“If Fall Fest sucks this year, it’s on us,” I warn.
“You mean it’s on you,” Reeve corrects me.
I glare at him. “It’s on all of us. Including and especially you.
You know how much the kids love your Jason routine. I don’t
get why you can’t at least—”
“What’s not to get?” Reeve snaps, pointing at his crutches.
“How is he supposed to run around the gym chasing after
kids on crutches?” Rennie asks, and then lets out a groan. “I
mean, hello!”
In a shaky voice I protest, “He exercises, like, every day!”
Rennie leans over Reeve to say, “Yeah, in the pool and in the
weight room! He can’t put weight on his leg, Lillia. Don’t talk
about things you don’t understand.”
Reeve puts his hand on Rennie’s shoulder and she relaxes
back in her seat, shaking her head in disgust. Then she turns
away from me and starts talking about her costume again.
That’s when it hits me. Rennie did this on purpose. She made
it so no one would help me, so I’d be all alone. She convinced
Ashlin to have people over when she knew I couldn’t make it.
I finally understand what’s been staring me in the face. Rennie
doesn’t want to be my friend anymore. She is officially through
with me. And if Rennie’s through with me, she’s going to make
damn sure that everybody else is too. How many times have
I seen her do this exact same thing? Ice somebody out of the
group because they pissed her off in some way? I’ve seen it happen, and I’ve stood by and said nothing, because I was afraid,
and it was easy. Never ever did I think it would be me on the
receiving end.
Alex is looking around the table in disbelief. “Are you guys
serious? We can’t help Lil out for one night?” When nobody
answers, he tosses his fork down on his tray. “You guys suck.
Lil, what can I do? Tell me what you need.”
Keeping my head down, I gather my stuff together as quickly
as possible. Quietly I say to Alex, “If you have time this weekend, will you come over and help me put some candy bags
together for the prizes?”
Alex nods. “I’ll come over tonight, straight from practice.”
He says it really loud, and gives everyone else a look. He turns
back to me and grins. “But don’t worry, I’ll shower first.”
It takes a lot of effort to smile back, but I do. “You better,”
I say.
Then I sneak out to the parking lot and cry in my car. So
this is how it all ends, after everything Rennie and I have been
through.

Nadia, Alex, and I have an assembly line set up in the dining
room. Nadia is Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and Sour Patch Kids
and Snickers; Alex is FireBalls, Lemonheads, and Starbursts; I’m
Nerds and lollipops, plus I tie the ribbon onto the bag in a bow.
It’s the most boring Friday night ever, but I couldn’t be happier
this task is getting done.

I hold one up for inspection. “Does this one seem a little light
on sweets to you?”
“Alex didn’t put enough FireBalls in,” Nadia tattletales.
“Snitch,” he says, poking her in the side. “It’s fine. I’m doing
the kid a favor, less cavities. Besides, you already tied the ribbon, Lil.”
“Yeah, I know.” I bite my lip, weighing the bag in my hand.
“I don’t want the kids to feel cheated out of anything.”
“Maybe we should open up the Starburst packs to make the
bags look fuller,” Nadia suggests.
I clap my hands together. “Perfect!”
Alex gives her a high five and Nadia grins at both of us.
“Alex, you be in charge of that,” I tell him, and he salutes me.
“Oh, I talked to my mom, and she said she was going to call
Joy tonight,” Alex says, carefully opening up a candy bag. His
hair is still wet from his shower. He really did come right over.
“Who’s Joy?” Nadia wants to know.
“She’s one of the owners of Milky Morning,” Alex tells her.
“My mom knows her from book club. She says she can get her to
donate as many cupcakes as you need.” He hands me another bag.
Suddenly I’m feeling so much gratitude and love and friendship for Alex, I can’t even. I don’t know what I would have
done without him today. “You’re the best, Lindy,” I say.
Alex gives an embarrassed shrug and says, “It’s nothing.” He
points at me. “Hey, you’re slowing down the assembly line.”
After he leaves, Nadia helps me clean up and pack away the
leftover candy. She doesn’t look at me when she says, “Alex
likes you, you know.”
I open my mouth to deny it, but I stop myself. I can’t lie to
Nadi, but I don’t know what the truth is anymore. So all I say
is, “We’re friends.”
Nadia makes a show of rolling her eyes at me. “So do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Do you like him?” The expression on her face—a little bit
plaintive, but mostly trying not to care. It breaks my heart.
“Do
you
?” I ask her.
There’s a pause, I can see her thinking this over. “No,” she
tells me. “He’s—nice. He’s so nice. But I don’t like him like that
anymore. I did. For maybe a second.”
I reach out and touch Nadi’s hair. It’s so soft, like a baby’s.
She lets me for a second before shrugging away. She says, “Be
nice to him, okay? Don’t hurt him.”
“I won’t,” I say. In my head I add,
not again
. That’s a promise.
CHAP
TER TEN

Today, when we ran into each other in the hall,
Lillia mentioned how she’d asked some of her guy friends if they
could help her sort through the sound equipment and drive it
over to the elementary school. It’s for her Fall Festival night, the
event she’s running for the elementary school kids.

Lillia said that even though she’d asked really, really nicely,
Reeve blew her off. “He said he had to go to PT and was too
busy. I told him it would take like, ten minutes after school,
but he still said no. He said he wanted to get to the gym early
and lift weights!” Lillia had looked ready to cry. “The other
guys have practice. It’s going to take me forever to load up my

Audi, I’ll have to make like five trips back and forth!”
“Lil! I’ll totally help you.”
Lillia’s whole face brightened up. “Thank you so much,

So now I’m scurrying over to the side entrance by the theater.
I’m not very strong, but with two of us it should go a little bit
faster anyway.

Instead of fighting the after-school rush inside, I cut across
the back parking lot—which is when I see Alex’s SUV parked
by the side door right behind Lillia’s Audi. He’s already there,
taking boxes out of her trunk and loading them into his. The
back door is open, and Lillia comes out the door, wearing an
ivory-colored coat and a long scarf around her neck, struggling
with a big cardboard box. Alex rushes over to help her. She must
not expect him, because he startles her.

“Alex!” she says, looking up. “Oh my gosh.”
I hang back and watch.
Alex takes the box out of her hands. “Here, Lil. You don’t