The Fruit of My Lipstick (21 page)

I felt the heat burn in my cheeks as it came home to me just what my relationship with Lucas had cost. He was the man whose words were perverse. And that might have cost me my friendship with Carly—the jury was still out—and maybe even her ability to surrender to God.

That was a very scary thought.

I ran my fingers down the pages and flipped to the book of Hebrews.

“Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise—the fruit of lips that confess his name. And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased.”

The sacrifice of praise. But I’d turned it inside out, hadn’t I? I’d sacrificed praise. The fruit of my lips was all bottled up inside, afraid to come out because it might make Lucas angry. After the webcam disaster last term, Lissa had told me that the thing she’d learned to love most about me was my honesty. And honesty had to be spoken, didn’t it? If that was the fruit the Lord was cultivating in me (despite what Nai-Nai wanted), then who was I to throttle it back and keep quiet?

Slowly, I closed the Bible.

I get it now, Lord. You want me to speak out, don’t You? Use this big old mouth of mine to praise You. And that means saying good-bye to the guy who wants to keep me quiet. Thank You, Father. Thanks for showing me what I needed to see. And thanks for sending me friends who are willing to tell me the truth—who have the same kind of fruit You want in me—even when I don’t appreciate them.

I thought of Carly, and all the ground I had to make up with her. But one thing at a time.

In spite of the flowers—or maybe because of them—I had to find a time and a place to break up with Lucas ASAP.

GChang
      I got your flowers.

LHayes
       Did you like them? You didn’t seem very thrilled with the roses so I got something else.

GChang
       They were beautiful. Can I see you before Friday? I need to talk.

LHayes
      Girls. Send them flowers and they need to talk. :)

GChang
      About what happened at the soda machine.

LHayes
       Can’t it wait until after finals? I’m under so much pressure you can’t believe it.

GChang
      So you said.

LHayes
      Oh OK. After prayer meeting?

GChang
      You’re going?

LHayes
      I always go. Or didn’t you notice? :)

GChang
      See you then.

“WE NEED A PLAN.”

Lissa closed the door of Room 216 after making sure no one coming to prayer circle was walking down the corridor. Carly and I pulled chairs over so we could huddle.

“You guys, I have to do this on my own,” I said. “I can’t bring my posse to a breakup.”

“I don’t trust him,” Carly said. “What if he gets mad? What if he hits you?”

“He won’t do that. Pushing is one thing. Hauling off and hitting someone is—”

“—grounds for those assault charges Shani was talking about,” Lissa finished.

“Well, yeah,” I admitted. “But what I was going to say is, it’s not his style.”

“Abuse has a style?!” Carly’s eyebrows shot up along with her voice.

“I get it,” Lissa said thoughtfully. “He’s like this stealth abuser. Actually hitting someone would be too obvious for him. He likes to be subtle when he’s messing you up.”

“Yeah. So subtle I didn’t even pick up on it while it was happening to me.”

“That’s not your fault.” How could Carly be so nice, even leaving out the fact that I’d accused her with hardly a second thought? How did I deserve a friend like this? Maybe she was like Lissa, who only got mad once a year. Though it looked like Carly was getting there now on my behalf—her eyes were practically snapping with sparks. If Lucas walked in right now, she might take him out at the knees and I wouldn’t have to go through with this. “Maybe he won’t come,” she went on. “I don’t see how he can treat you like that and look God in the face.”

I didn’t either, but that part wasn’t up to me. It was something else I had to put in God’s hands.

“Anyway. Back to the plan,” Lissa reminded us. “We’ll probably walk down to Starbucks afterward, so everything looks normal. You could get a private table and do it there.”

“Right. In front of you guys and who knows how many other people from school,” I said.

“Or on the way,” Carly suggested. “It doesn’t matter, as long as we’re close, right?”

I looked at her. “That’s a good idea. I could make sure we tagged behind a little. Then I could catch up with you . . . after.”

Lissa nodded. “And then we can—”

The door opened and Jeremy stepped in, followed by Shani, and a few minutes later, Lucas, who came in with some new kids. At the sight of him, I felt a cold chill dart through my stomach.

Truth? I could go the rest of my life without seeing him ever again. But now, in front of people who didn’t need to know my personal business, I had to pretend that everything was fine.

I smiled, like I always did.

He sat beside me, like he always did.

Lissa plunked herself down on my other side, practically hip-checking Jeremy out of the way. He sat next to Shani (no surprise), who proceeded to stare at Lucas like a cat watching a mouse hole.

When prayer began and we joined hands, Lucas squeezed mine. I didn’t squeeze back—instead, my hand lay in his like a cold, limp wad of newspaper on a snowy New York street. It was all I could do to leave it there and open my heart to God at the same time.

Playing the piano afterward was a different thing. You try eight and ten-note chords when your hands are so cold they need gloves. I muddled through it, mostly thanks to Shani, who took the music’s gospel roots and made them soar—meaning people listened to her, not me.

We headed out to Starbucks in a straggly group, and when I saw that most of them were out of earshot but still in sight, I dropped Lucas’s hand.

“Lucas, I need to tell you something.”

“You already told me you liked the flowers. I wasn’t looking for a personal thank-you.”

“No, it’s not that.” I took a breath.
Just dive in
. “I didn’t keep the flowers. I gave them to the receptionist.”

He stopped walking. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lissa grab Carly’s arm and stop her too. They looked in some random store window, then kept going in double slow time.

“You gave them to the receptionist?” Lucas repeated in astonishment. “Why?”

He even sounded hurt. What an actor. “Because there’s no way I could keep them. I can’t go out with you anymore, Lucas. This is it.”

He stared at me, then walked on. “You are one crazy chick.”

“See, this is exactly why.” It took me a couple of steps to catch up. “I do something you don’t like, and suddenly
I’m
crazy. I don’t expect you to apologize for what happened at the soda machine, but—”

“Why should I? If it wasn’t for you ragging on me and making everything worse, I wouldn’t have lost it.”

“Oh, that’s right. I threw
myself
into a solid metal object.”

“Well, you are naturally clumsy.” He smiled at me, clearly aiming for “affectionate,” but it didn’t look that way to me. It just looked fake. “It could happen to anyone.”

“Breakups can happen to anyone, too. I’d like my jade bracelet back, please.”

“Sheesh, Gillian, what’s the Chinese equivalent of ‘Indian giver’?”

“I don’t know, nor do I care. I want it back.”

“I thought it was a gift.”

“It was for luck, until you passed the prelims for the Olympiad. Now that you have, you don’t need it anymore.”

“I don’t think so. It’s my lucky talisman. I’m keeping it until I get into the top five.”

Now it was my turn to stop. “Lucas, God is your lucky talisman. You don’t need that bracelet.”

“Who says? Maybe I need all the help I can get.”

“And maybe you’re just doing this as a power play.”

“Paranoid much?”

“You’re doing it again. You do something unacceptable, and then you blame the other person for reacting.”

“You know what, Gillian? You think too much.”

How could I have been so attracted to this guy? “When it comes to you, I didn’t think enough. I mean it. I want that bracelet back.”

“Sorry, I don’t have it.” He shot his wrist to show me it was bare. “It’s in my room.”

“Then you can give it to me tomorrow.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You sound like a little kid. Grow up, Lucas. This isn’t a game.”

“Oh, really? But it’s all about the property, isn’t it? Just like my mother. She dumped my dad and suddenly all she cared about was what she could get out of him. You women are all the same.”

Oh, boy. We have now left the world of reality, folks. Fasten your seat belts
.

“This isn’t about your mother. This is about you and me.”

“Not anymore, it’s not. You go have a nice cup of coffee, Gillian.” He spun on his heel and headed back up the hill. “I hope you enjoy it.”

He probably thought he was being all generous and open-minded. But I didn’t care.

I ran to catch up with Lissa and Carly, who waited at the corner on my side of the street while everyone else went into Starbucks. And you want to know something?

I’d never been so happy to see my friends waiting for me in my whole life.

Chapter 20

W
HEN I HADN’T
seen so much as a thread of
my bracelet by breakfast the next day, I realized I had two choices:

a. I
could write it off as a loss and figure it was a fair price to pay for learning
how to spot a loser.

b. I could burgle Lucas’s room.

“I’d buy a
ticket to see that,” Carly said around her oatmeal. She always puts half a dozen
spoonfuls of brown sugar on it—like that’s going to help.

“It just makes
me mad.” Okay, I was sulking. Can you blame me? “He’s already humiliated me and
made a fool out of me. How come he needs my bracelet, too?”

“He doesn’t
need it. I think he just likes the idea that he can still play with you,” Lissa
said. “And, hello, you’re letting him.”

“Who’s playing with you?” Jeremy
slid in next to me, and Carly went back to her oatmeal.

“Never mind,”
Lissa said. “What exams do you have today?”

But I’d just had an idea.
Jeremy was friends with Travis Fanshaw, who was Lucas’s roommate.

“That
was subtle.” Jeremy spooned yogurt over his mound of fruit, then sprinkled
granola on top of that. He crowned the whole thing with blueberry syrup that I
hadn’t even seen in the array of breakfast choices.

“What have you got
there?” After seven-grain toast, anything looked good to me. I leaned over to
inspect his masterpiece.

“Have some.” He indicated the side closest to
me, and because it was such a change for a guy to be straightforwardly nice, I
did. “So, who’s playing with you? Lucas?”

I blinked and my spoon stopped
in midair for a full second. A single drop of blueberry syrup fell, and I
hastily shoved it into my mouth. “Why do you ask?” I said, not very elegantly,
crunching granola. The syrup was the first sugar I’d had other than at Starbucks
since I started training with Ms. Modano. It tasted wonderful.

He
shrugged. “Travis told me you guys broke up. I guess Lucas is pretty
bummed.”

“Why?” Lissa’s tone dripped acid. “Because now he doesn’t have
anyone to be his punching bag?”

“Huh?” Jeremy gawked at her, then at me.

I could feel the heat of humiliation burning its way into my face. This
was exactly what I didn’t want. I shot Lissa a “would you shut up?” look.
“Nothing. How about those exams?”

“I thought that was just a
rumor.”

“What, exams? No, they’re very real. Unfortunately.” At least
there were only three more days to go. Today’s big scary one was AP Chem during
fourth period. Tomorrow I’d do my Composition performance, turn in my term paper
and write an in-class essay for English, and do my Mandarin presentation. And
then other than my Chamber Ensemble performance, which would be fun, and the
training torture session Friday morning, which I’d undoubtedly fail, I’d be
free.

“Tell me about it. No, I meant the rumor about you two breaking up.
Is that why? Did he mess you up?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Jeremy,”
I managed.

“Oh.” He sort of deflated, like I’d hurt his feelings. “Okay.
I wasn’t being a ghoul. I just wanted to help.”

For some reason, my throat
got thick and my eyes flooded with tears. I reached for my backpack, slung it
over my shoulder, and picked up my half-eaten container of yogurt and empty
coffee cup. “See you guys later. I’ve gotta go.”

I got all the way to my
core classroom, which, because I was half an hour early, was totally empty, when
I heard steps behind me.

“Gillian?”

Jeremy followed me into the
room, where I dropped my backpack and sat slumped in my usual spot by the
window. “What?”

“I’m sorry if I said anything that upset you.”

I
shook my head. “It’s not you. I’m just feeling bummed right now, you
know?”

“You must have really liked him, huh.”

I wrinkled my forehead
and gave him a look. “I appreciate the thought, really I do. But that’s kind
of . . . not your business.”

He pulled over a chair opposite me, looked
down at his hands drooping between his knees, and the tips of his ears turned
red. “I know. I’m sorry. But I hate seeing that guy get away with it.”

I
just stared at him. Had the entire student body known all this time what Lucas
was? Was I the only one who couldn’t buy a clue?

“He dated my sister when
she was a freshman,” he went on. “From some of the things she said, and the way
she changed while they were together, I was glad they broke up. It lasted two
weeks, but still.”

“What did she say about it?”

“Just weird stuff.
He made her feel bad about nearly everything.” He looked up. “So I’m glad you
guys broke up, too.”