Pants on Fire (20 page)

“It was me,” I cried. “I acted alone. And I am really, really sorry.”

The minute I said I’d acted alone, Sidney shut up.

My mother, on the other hand, could be heard letting out a keening sound all her own. No doubt because I’d just admitted something that was going to cost my family thousands of dollars.

Good thing I’ve got a job.

The judges blinked up at me wordlessly…as did Coach Hayes. His wife had already sunk down onto the piano bench, and was fanning herself with her index cards, looking as if she might pass out. Mr. Gatch, in the last row, was gleefully scribbling something down in a notebook he’d brought with him.

Beside him, Tommy Sullivan—the person whose reaction to what I’d just admitted mattered most to me—seemed to be frozen, just sitting staring at me. I stared back through my tears. It was almost, in that moment, like there was no murmuring audience between us, no park around us, no parents freaking out about the cost of sandblasting an entire wall, no brother spazzing that his sister had just said she hates the team he’d only that day been selected to play on, no restaurateur groaning that I had just said I hate their main dish.

It was like it was just me and Tommy. The way it probably should have been. If I’d been true to myself, four years earlier.

“I’m sorry, Tommy,” I said into the microphone, the tears dripping down off my chin and splashing onto my poofy pink skirt. “I didn’t want to do it. I know that sounds stupid, considering…well, that I did it anyway. But I just…well…” I shrugged. I could barely see him, the tears were coming so thick and fast now. “Never mind.”

I looked over at Sidney, who was still being restrained from killing me by her boyfriend.

“Wow,” I said to her, reaching up to wipe away the
worst of the tears with the back of my hand. “Thanks, Sidney. I feel so much better. Love really does rejoice in the truth.”

Then I said, “Sorry to have ruined your pageant, everybody,” to the judges and the audience. “I’ll just be going now.”

And then I dropped my microphone, lifted up my poofy pink skirt, and leaped from the stage.

And ran for my bike for all I was worth.

“So,” Jill said, as we sat on the railing overlooking the water. “You and Seth are really broken up?”

“He asked for his letter jacket back,” I said, keeping my gaze on my sneakered feet.

Shaniqua inhaled sharply. “Harsh!”

“That’s okay,” I said with a shrug. “I think I need to take a little vacation from boys for a while.”

Jill wrinkled her nose. “They’re not all they’re cracked up to be,” she assured me. “You’ll see. Try living with one.”

“I do,” I said. “My brother, Liam—who’s embarrassed to be seen with me now, by the way. Because I dissed his precious team…in front of his coach.”

“I’m not talking about brothers,” Jill said.

“Yeah,” I said. “Well, I guess maybe a boyfriend’s feet
stink less than a brother’s do.”

“I wouldn’t say
that
,” Jill said.

And just then some tourists walked up, so she had to go grab some menus and escort them to a table.

“So were your parents really mad?” Shaniqua wanted to know.

“About the seven grand they have to pay the school for the sandblasting?” I laughed. “Oh, yeah, they were thrilled. I’m grounded from now until graduation. I’m only allowed out for work, and I have to hand every penny I earn over to them until I’ve paid them back.”

“What about your camera?” Shaniqua cried.

I shrugged again. “Hasta la vista, baby,” I said. I hoped she didn’t notice the tremor in my voice. Also that Mr. Bird wouldn’t be totally crabby about giving me my sixteen hundred bucks back. Along with everything else, I’d come clean to my parents about the camera, too. I’d become a veritable truth-telling geyser, as a matter of fact.

“That’s not fair,” Shaniqua cried, about the camera. “You spray-painted the school so long ago! And you never would have gotten caught if you hadn’t turned yourself in.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Well, they don’t exactly see it that way. Although my mom understands. I think. A little.”

My mom had certainly been the one who, coming home from the pageant to find me already in bed, crying as if my heart were breaking (because the truth is, I think it was), had sighed and put her arms around me and told
me nothing was ever as bad as it seemed. She’d even said she was proud of me for telling the truth…though she wished I hadn’t chosen to tell it in such a public venue.

And when Liam had come in and wanted to know if he could go live at his friend Chris’s house, because he didn’t think he could bear the stigma of being the brother of Katie Ellison, Quahog hater, my dad was the one who sent him to his room.

Still. Maybe things really
would
be all right. I mean, who needed friends? I had Shaniqua and Jill.

And God knew I didn’t need a boyfriend. I’d had enough to last me a lifetime.

Besides, they don’t let you have boyfriends in the Episcopalian convent. If such a thing even exists.

Fortunately, Peggy hadn’t even been that upset about the quahog thing. When I’d come in to work the brunch shift the morning after the pageant debacle (the guy who normally works had called in “sick,” suffering, no doubt, from too much Eastport Towne Fair the night before, and since I was more desperate for cash than ever, I’d agreed to cover), she’d merely shaken her head at me and said, “Remind me never to sponsor another employee for anything ever again. Now go mop under the steam tables.”

Which was nice of her. For someone who’d just wanted to get rid of Old Man Trouble, I’d sure landed myself in a heap of it anyway.

And, I mean, that’s okay. A liar like me doesn’t deserve friends. A year in social Siberia will teach me a valuable
lesson about telling the truth—not just to others, but to myself as well.

And then maybe, after graduation, if I can’t find a convent that will take me, I’ll just head off to college—an all-women’s college, of course—and start over.

So when Jill whizzed past me around two o’clock and said, “Quahog alert,” I was pretty startled. Especially when I looked over and saw Sidney and Dave—with Eric and Morgan behind them—standing at the hostess booth.

“What do you want me to do?” Jill asked worriedly.

“They probably don’t know I’m here,” I said, my heart slamming unsteadily against my rib cage. Because I could not imagine any of them—but most especially Sidney—would want to be seen at the Gull ’n Gulp if they knew I was here, too. “I’ll just go and let them know. They’ll probably leave.”

But when I sidled up to Sidney to ask, “Um, can I help you guys?” she looked at me as if I were an idiot.

“Yes,” she said. “You can get us a table.”

I blinked at her. “Sidney,” I said. “I’m working here today.”

“Funnily enough, I’m not blind,” Sidney said. “I can see that.”

“Well,” I said. “I mean, I just thought…maybe you’d be more comfortable eating somewhere else for a while. Because, you know…
I’m
here.”

“That’s why we’re here, Katie,” Dave said. “To show you there’s no hard feelings. Right, Sidney?” He poked
Sidney in the back.

Sidney looked annoyed. “Ow,” she said. Then added, “What he said. No hard feelings. I mean, aside from the fact that you ruined the pageant and made a total fool of yourself, you’re still my best friend. And, whatever, because I still won, which is as it should be. What do you think of my tiara?”

I looked at it. “I think you’re only supposed to wear it during the parade, Sidney,” I said.

“What, just because the parade is over, I’m not Quahog Princess anymore? No way. Right, Morgan?” Sidney looked at her second runner-up, who was busy making out with Eric, and didn’t seem to hear her.

“Get a room,” Sidney said, rolling her eyes. Then, taking me by the arm, she leaned over to add, “I called you, like, ten zillion times. I suppose you had your phone off again, as usual. Anyway, I wanted to say, you know…thanks. For not telling them the truth.”

I blinked at her. “Sidney. I
did
tell them the truth.”

“Well, not the
whole
truth,” Sidney said. “You know, the part about—”

“Right,” I said quickly. “No need to say anything more about it.”

“Well.” Sidney looked uncomfortable. “I just—”

“Really, Sid.” I looked her dead in the eye. “No need.”

“Well. All right. I just wanted to say thanks. So. Changing the subject. Have you heard?” Sidney wanted to know. “About Seth?”

I shook my head. It’s strange, but when I hear his
name now, I feel…nothing. Except maybe a twinge of guilt. “No. Well, I mean, I got a message from him on my cell. He wants his jacket back. I assume that means he’s all right.”

“He’s fine. He couldn’t join us this morning because he’s hanging with Jenna Hicks.” She rolled her eyes expressively. “Apparently, the two of them have a lot in common, having the whole depression thing going for them now.”

“Well,” I said, not really very surprised. Mrs. Hicks, I was sure, was thrilled. Her forcing Jenna to take part in the pageant had succeeded beyond her wildest dreams. “That’s good. I guess.”

“Yeah,” Sidney said. “I suppose. Jenna looks good without all that nasty hardware in her face. Sort of. Anyway, there’s some kind of manga convention in the city, so they’re going together.”

“Manga?” I raised my eyebrows. “And
Seth
?”

“Well, manga probably works for him. You know how he moves his lips when he reads. So, you know. Less words. What about
your
hottie? Heard from him?”

I felt my cheeks turning red. “Um, you mean Tommy? No. No, I haven’t. I don’t expect to, either. He’s not my hottie.”

“Why not?” Sidney demanded, looking surprised.

“Sidney.” I love her. I really do. But seriously. “I admitted last night in front of him that I spray-painted
Tommy Sullivan is a freak
on the wall of our middle school. Do you think he’s really going to be that into me now?”

“Oh, whatever,” Sidney said. “You’re hot. And you’re, like, smart. Like he is. You’d make a nice couple. So can we have our table now, or what? Hey.” Her glance flicked past me. Then her eyes bulged. “Are those
tourists
sitting there in the corner booth?”

Jill, returning to the hostess stand from showing a couple to their table, looked over her shoulder at the corner booth and answered Sidney’s question for her.

“Oh,” she said. “Those are the McCallisters. From Minnesota. Nice people.”

“What are
tourists
doing at the Quahog table?” Sidney demanded.

“Oh, that’s not the Quahog table anymore,” Jill explained breezily. “New restaurant policy. We voted. And we all decided that Katie is right, and it’s wrong to give special privileges to any one bunch of people.” She smiled beatifically at Dave. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” Dave, the smoother-over, said.

“But…” Sidney blinked a few times. “What are
we
supposed to do?”

“Make a reservation next time,” Jill said, handing Sidney a beeper. “It’ll go off when a table is ready. Who’s next?”

Sidney looked down at the oversized beeper in her hand. Then she looked incredulously up at me.

“Is she kidding?” Sidney wanted to know.

“Um,” I said. “No. Sorry. But the turnover’s pretty fast this morning. Give it half an hour. I gotta get back to my tables. See you guys later.”

I hurried off to wait on my customers, unable to keep an enormous smile from my face. I couldn’t believe it. Sidney didn’t hate me! I actually still have a friend left at school!

That’s one person, anyway…and a person who’s pretty important to me.

Too bad there was zero chance of that happening with the person I
most
wanted not to hate me.

But seriously. There was no way Tommy Sullivan was going to forgive me for what I’d done. I’d seen the look of total shock on his face when he’d learned the truth.

That hadn’t been the look of a man who was ready to forgive anytime soon, that was for sure.

Which was fine. I mean, I just got out of a long-term relationship. I’m not getting into a new one in a hurry.

Even one with a boy I’m totally positive is the right guy for me. Because I can’t stop thinking about him. And his lips.

But that’s wrong! Because clearly, I have some growing up to do, romance-wise.

Still. I wouldn’t have minded being just friends with Tommy.

If you can be just friends with a guy whose tongue has been in your mouth.

But I was pretty sure I was never going to get the chance to find out. I was willing to bet Tommy was all the way back in the city by now, leaving Eastport—and
me—in his dust.

So it was a complete shock when, at the end of my shift, I walked out of the restaurant and saw him leaning against the bike rack behind the emergency generator, looking as if a fried quahog wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

“What…what are you doing here?” I stammered, stopping dead in my tracks.

“Your mom said this is where you were,” Tommy said, straightening up. “And that you’d be getting off work about now.”

As usual, he looked incredibly good—casual in board shorts and a slim tee. The afternoon sun, which was behind him, brought out the red highlights in his hair. I couldn’t see what color his eyes were, though, because he was wearing his Ray-Bans.

He wasn’t smiling. For which I didn’t blame him.

“Look, Tommy,” I said, my heart slowing down to something more like a normal rhythm. It had practically leaped out of my chest at the sight of him.

But I was trying to wean myself off boys. Boys had
been, after all, the root of all my troubles. Well, besides my inability to express my real opinion on things for fear of public censure.

Still, if I could just cut boys from my life permanently, maybe I’d be all right.

Although that wasn’t going to be easy with Tommy Sullivan around, looking so incredibly good.

“I’m really, truly sorry for what I did,” I said. I had suspected that I might see Tommy again—just not quite this soon. So I had been up most of the night, rehearsing what I was going to say to him. “I was stupid. I don’t know why I—”

“You didn’t,” Tommy said flatly.

I stared at him. This was not how I had rehearsed him responding. “What?”

“You didn’t spray-paint that wall, Katie,” he said in the same flat voice. “I know it wasn’t you.”

Wait.
What?
This was
so
not how I’d rehearsed this going.

“Of course it was me,” I said, laughing incredulously. “Why would I have stood up in front of all those people last night and told them it was me, if it wasn’t?”

“Because you felt guilty,” Tommy said. “For not trying to stop Sidney and Seth and whoever else was involved in it.”

My jaw sagged.
How had he known?

But I had been neglecting to tell the truth for so long about so many things, I couldn’t help responding with another lie.

“That’s…that’s ridiculous,” I stammered.

Tommy just looked bored.

“I know you were
there
, Katie,” he said. “But I also know what really went down.”

I stared at him. In the distance, I could hear the sound lapping against the sea wall, and the cry of gulls. Inside the restaurant, Sidney and Dave and Morgan and Eric had gotten their table, eaten, and left, hours ago. Sidney had made me promise to come to The Point with her to lay out by the water tomorrow, our last free day before school started. She had even invited Morgan along as well, a display of graciousness I knew was a direct result of her being the new Quahog Princess.

Now, in the lull between the brunch and dinner shift, the line cooks in the kitchen had turned the satellite radio to the eighties station, because Peggy had gone home. The speakers were pounding Pat Benatar.

But all I could hear was my own breathing.

“What are you talking about?” I demanded, ignoring the feeling of tightness in my chest. “How could you know any of that? Unless—”

“Unless I was there that night? I
was
there that night,” Tommy said, still looking bored. “I was on my bike, over by the side of the building. You guys didn’t see me. But I saw you. And I heard them. And what they were going to write.”

“Tommy.” My heartbeat had sped up again. Because this was awful. This changed everything. This—

“And after Seth made the letter F,” Tommy said, “you
grabbed the spray can away from him, and you wrote—”

“—freak,” I finished for him, my eyes closed.

“Right,” Tommy said. His voice sounded strange. I couldn’t figure out why. But even though I’d opened my eyes, I didn’t dare raise my gaze and risk glancing at his face. Because I knew what the sight of those amber eyes—even behind such dark lenses—might do to me. To say nothing of his lips.

“I always wondered why you did that,” he said. “Why
did
you do that, Katie?”

“Because,” I said. I wanted to cry all over again. Like I apparently hadn’t cried enough last night, weeping on my mom’s shoulder—and then, after she’d gone to bed, into my pillow—half the night. I kept my gaze on the gravel at my feet.

It was time to tell the truth. The
whole
truth.

“I couldn’t let him write what he wanted,” I said. “Seth, I mean. But I couldn’t stop him from finishing what he’d started. So I grabbed the can, and wrote something else. Oh, what does it
matter
, anyway?”

“It matters,” Tommy said in the same quiet voice. “It’s always mattered. To me, anyway. Whenever things got really bad—and they did get really, very bad—I’d think about what you did. And I’d wonder why you did it.”

“Because you were my friend,” I said quickly. The tears weren’t just gathering under my eyelashes now. They were starting to spill out from under them. Frustrated—because I didn’t want him to see I was crying—I turned around and plunked down so that I
was sitting on the bike rack.

“Was that what we were?” Tommy asked.

And now I knew that that thing was in his voice, that thing I hadn’t been able to put a name to until now. It was bitterness.

And it made me cry out, “Yes, of course! I may have been a crappy friend to you, Tommy. But I was still your friend. I
wanted
to do right by you. As much as I
could
do, in my admittedly limited capacity.”

“Hey.” Now Tommy’s voice was gentle. I still couldn’t look up at him—because I was ashamed of my tears. But I could see his feet move into my sight range. He was wearing black suede Pumas. “Katie. You’ve got the wrong idea. I never blamed you. I thought it was cool, what you did…changing the word to ‘freak.’ I could handle being a freak.”

“Then…why did you leave town?” I asked his feet.

“Because my parents couldn’t handle having a son who’s a freak,” he said with a laugh. And the next thing I knew, he was sitting on the bike rack next to me—though I was still careful not to look into his face. “They didn’t think it was good for me to be in Eastport. They wanted me to get a good education, not be worrying all the time about people spray-painting my name on buildings or beating me up. So they pulled out. It was probably the right thing for them to do. Who knows?”

I said, still unable to raise my gaze higher than his knees, “But then…why did you come back? And
don’t
say you can’t tell me. Because otherwise I’m going to
know it’s to get revenge on me. Which you’ve managed to do, and pretty good. The whole town hates me now. Practically.”

“Nobody hates you,” Tommy said. Now there was laughter in his voice. “Except Seth, maybe.”

“Seth definitely hates me,” I said, thinking mournfully of Seth’s terse message, asking for his jacket back.

“Yeah, well, Seth always was an idiot,” Tommy said. “Just like his brother, he wants to blame everybody else for his own mistakes.”

“I
was
a jerk to him, though,” I admitted mournfully. “I was a pretty big jerk to you, too.”

“You weren’t a jerk,” Tommy said. “You were just freaked out. About starting high school with everyone hating you. I think it was natural to want to distance yourself from me.”

“Really?” I risked a glance at his face, trying to gauge the bitterness level.

But all I saw was his smile. Which made my heart lurch.

And of course, after that, I couldn’t look away.

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “But you redeemed yourself last night. That was quite a speech.”

“Not really,” I said, chewing on my lower lip. Because I hadn’t been able to avoid noticing that, in the light from the afternoon sun, Tommy’s own lips looked particularly inviting.

What was
wrong
with me? Why didn’t my body seem to know that my brain had sworn off boys? For good?

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Tommy said, bumping his shoulder against mine.

He meant it, I knew, as a friendly gesture. He didn’t do it to make electric shocks of desire go shooting through me.

But that’s exactly what happened.

Which is why I looked away from him, and said, “I’m taking a vacation from guys,” as fast as I could. Because I was reminding myself—as well as letting him know—that physical contact, even shoulder bumping, was off the menu.

“Really?” Tommy
definitely
sounded amused now. I had to risk another glance at his face, just to see if he really was laughing at me.

He was.

And he still looked hot as ever.

My cheeks burning, I hunched my shoulders and looked away from him again.

“It’s not funny,” I said to the tops of my sneakers. “You were right. I need to learn to understand myself better—and, like you said,
like
myself better—before I get into any more romantic relationships. Telling the truth for a change is a start. But I have a long way to go.”

I decided against telling him about Phase Two of my plan…the convent and/or all-women’s college. Better to take it one day at a time at this point.

“That sounds like an excellent plan to me,” Tommy said.

My shoulders slumped a little. I don’t know why I was
so disappointed in his response. I guess I hadn’t exactly thought he’d try to talk me out of it.

But I thought he’d at least have said something like,
Too bad. I was about to ask you out.

But this is just an example of how much I really do need to take a vacation from boys.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, if it’ll cheer you up a little,” Tommy went on. “It’s about why I’m back in Eastport. Well, part of the reason. But it’s got to stay a secret till tomorrow morning. So you have to promise not to tell.”

“Okay,” I said, instantly curious.

He reached down and pulled up a backpack that had been sitting in the gravel near my bike. Unzipping it, he took out a newspaper. I recognized the standard for the
Gazette
. It was the Sunday—tomorrow’s—edition.

“Turn to the sports section,” Tommy said.

I did. And was shocked by what I saw.

“That’s you!” I cried.

Because it was. There was a new column along the left-hand side of the page—the high school sports beat. And there, next to a byline that read
TOM SULLIVAN
, was Tommy’s picture.

“
That’s
what you came back for?” I cried. “Because Mr. Gatch offered you the high school sports beat?”

“Well, partly,” Tommy said. “But you can see why I’m not too worried about those guys—what did you call it? Oh, yeah—having any kind of blanket party on me. I don’t think Coach Hayes—or anyone else, for that
matter—would take too kindly to the Quahogs beating up the reporter who’s going to be covering their games all year.”

“Tommy,” I breathed, looking down at his photo. He looked totally great in it. Maybe I’d cut it out, and when I was living in the convent, I could look at Tommy’s photo and remember what it was like to be kissed by him. “This…this is really impressive. It really is. Mr. Gatch has never hired anyone as young as you before. I mean, to have their own column.”

“Yeah,” Tommy said. “It was a pretty strong incentive to come back, I’ll admit. My parents weren’t too thrilled about it, but when I explained how good it would look as part of my college applications, they finally agreed to let me give it a try.”

“Well,” I said. I handed the paper back to him reluctantly. “I, um. I guess I must have sounded really stupid, going on about thinking you were here because of…well. Me.”

“Not
that
stupid,” Tommy admitted with a smile, as he stuck the paper back into his bag. “Because you were partly right.”

I blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, hey, I almost forgot,” he said, ignoring my question. “I have something of yours.”

“Of mine? What?”

And he reached into the backpack again, and this time drew out something bulky, wrapped in a brown paper bag.

“What is it?” I asked, taking hold of it curiously. “What—”

But the minute my fingers went around it, I knew.

“Tommy!” I cried, springing up from the bike rack and pressing the thing in the bag to my heart. “No. You didn’t.”

My mouth said the words. But my hands, clutching the camera to me, said something else entirely—they said,
Mine.
Because it was like they were home.

“You’re right.” Tommy was grinning. “I didn’t. Mr. Gatch did. Well, he and Mr. Bird, really. You know how much they both hate the Quahogs. Oh, and here.” Tommy reached into his backpack and pulled out an envelope, which he slipped into my hands. “Your money back. So you can give it to your parents, to put toward the sandblasting.”

I just shook my head in wonder. The tears had come back.

But they were a different kind of tears from before.

“Tommy,” I whispered.
“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. And don’t think you’re getting that camera for free, either. Mr. G expects you to work it off taking photos for the paper this year. I was hoping you’d cover the games with me. What do you say?”

I shook my head some more. “Tommy…why? I mean…why are you being so nice to me? After what I did?”

He shrugged, getting up from the bike rack. “Are you kidding?
I
’m the one who owes
you
. If it weren’t for me,
you’d have placed in that pageant last night. Jenna Hicks only placed because you dropped out.”

Which was when I noticed something, despite my tears. Or rather, I noticed something missing. From the Gull ’n Gulp parking lot.

“Tommy,” I said, blinking back the tears. “Where’s your Jeep?”

“Oh,” he said. He had bent over to unlock a chain around a mountain bike parked beside mine. “Parked back at my grandparents’ place. I figure, you know, if we’re going to be hanging out, I’m better off with pedal power, if I’m going to keep up with you.”

I just looked at him. When he’d successfully removed the chain, he straightened up and noticed my stare.

“What?” he asked, looking puzzled. “You wouldn’t get in my car, anyway.”

“Tommy.”

My heart was beating slowly and steadily beneath the Leica I was pressing to it. It wasn’t fluttering. It wasn’t hammering. It was just thumping.
Ka-thump. Ka-thump.