What If ... Your Past Came Back to Haunt You (6 page)

BOOK: What If ... Your Past Came Back to Haunt You
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OUT OF COMMISSION

Sometimes accidents happen for a reason, and sometimes they just happen.

“H
aley, come on in.” Barbara Highland greeted Haley at the front door. “What have you got there?”

“It's a hot fudge sundae,” Haley said. “I picked it up on my way home from school. I heard what happened to Reese and I thought it might cheer him up.”

“How sweet of you,” Barbara said. “We just got back from the hospital. The X-rays were not good—he broke his foot in two places.”

“That's terrible,” Haley said. “Is he in a lot of pain?”

“A little,” Mrs. Highland said. “He tries to be stoic, but I can tell he's kind of low. Why don't you take that sundae upstairs to his room? I'm sure he'll appreciate it.”

It was early in the evening after the last boys' soccer game of the season. In a heartbreaking loss to Old Tappan, Reese had injured his foot. Haley came home right away to find out how he was doing.

Upstairs, she found Reese propped up in bed, his left foot in a cast and elevated on a stack of pillows. He was absorbed in a history book, highlighter in hand. She tapped on the door and he turned his head.

“Hey.” He smiled and put down his book. “Come on in.”

“I brought you a treat.” Haley gave him the ice cream. “How are you feeling?”

Reese lifted the cast an inch off the pillows. “Not so hot. Basketball season's out of the question, looks like.”

“What a shame,” Haley said, but secretly she couldn't help feeling just a little relieved. If Reese wasn't playing basketball, that left him lots of spare time—to spend, she hoped, with her. After all, he lived right next door, and with his foot in a cast he couldn't get very far. He'd be her captive audience, her patient, her charge. She could stop by every day and check on him, and soon he'd depend on her to bring him things he couldn't get for himself. . . .

“What will the Hawks do without you?” Haley said.

“They'll be fine,” Reese said modestly. He was one of the star players. “Johnny Lane can carry the whole team by himself, practically.”

“That's not true,” Haley said. “They need you. They'll be terrible without you.” She watched for a second as he ate a spoonful of hot fudge. “So what are you going to do with your free time now that you can't shoot hoops?”

“Well, in a way it's a blessing in disguise,” Reese said. “I mean, not playing ball gives me that much more time to study.”

Haley suppressed a sigh of frustration.
Great.
Even with his foot in a cast, held hostage next door, Reese would be too busy to see her.

“I figure, basketball practice is two hours a day, three if you count locker-room time,” Reese said. “So each weekday I'll spend that time on a different subject. Monday: AP Calculus. Tuesday: AP History. Wednesday: AP English. . . .”

“And do I get squeezed in on Thursday, at least?” Haley teased, hoping to change the subject.

He finished the ice cream sundae and set the bowl aside. “You'll get all the time you want, as long as you promise to feed me. Can we go out to eat?”

Haley laughed. “You just demolished an entire hot fudge sundae.”

“I know, but I'm still starving.” Reese tapped his left leg. “I never realized how much energy healing a broken bone takes. Come on, let's go to Hap's. Some greasy comfort food ought to cure what ails me.”

Haley's cell beeped. She checked the screen. It was a text from Sasha, asking her to come meet the crew at Bubbies Bistro. Haley guessed the usual suspects would be there: Sasha; her boyfriend, Johnny Lane; Cecily Watson and her boyfriend, Drew Napolitano; and probably Sasha's new best friend, her soon-to-be-stepsister, Whitney Klein.

“What do you say?” Reese asked. Haley wasn't sure how to respond.

Poor Reese. Out for the season. He doesn't seem to be in too much pain, though, and he's taking the whole broken-foot thing pretty well. Already up for going out to dinner. If only he'd schedule Haley into one of those empty afternoon basketball slots, she'd be all set.

That's not to be. However, Haley has a few interesting choices here. She could go to Hap's Diner with Reese, where they could be alone and talk. It would be about as close to a real date as they've gotten lately. If you think Haley needs to treasure every second she can get with Reese, send her to (
CASTAWAY
).

On the other hand, even with a broken foot, Reese can't be bothered to pencil Haley into his precious college-bound schedule. So maybe Haley doesn't have time for him, either. She has a life of her own, after all. She has friends. Plus, Hap's is sort of a dive, and not only is Bubbies Bistro more upscale, they also have the best turkey panini in town. If you think Haley would much rather have a fun night out with Sasha's crew at Bubbies, turn to (
MAMMA MIA
).

If you think Haley is too annoyed to indulge His Majesty another second but isn't in the mood for a raucous night out with her friends either, send her to (
FAMILY JEWELS
) and take a time-out.

Haley's choice is in your hands.

RIVALRIES RESUMED

Beware the sister who goes after your mister.

H
aley rang the doorbell—more like door chimes—at the De Clerq McMansion. The door was opened by Consuela, the De Clerqs' housekeeper.


Hola,
Miss 'Aley, come in.”

“Thank you, Consuela,” Haley said, following the housekeeper through the ornate foyer, under the crystal chandelier and into the media room, where Coco, Spencer and Coco's older sister, Ali, lounged on matching leather couches. Ali and Spencer were in the middle of a fierce game of poker.

“You want something to drink?” Consuela asked Haley.

“Um, iced tea would be nice, I guess,” Haley said. She'd never get used to being waited on by household servants. It just felt too weird.

“Iced tea,” Spencer mocked. “It's five-thirty—we're well into cocktail hour. Make that a Long Island iced tea, Consuela.”

“No, really,” Haley said. “Plain old iced tea is fine for now.”

“Are you going to join the party, or are you going to be your usual prudish self?” Spencer slurred slightly on the word “prudish.”

Ali had been staring intently at the playing cards in her hand, but now she glanced up. “Leave her alone, Spencer,” she said. “And deal.” She took a swig of pale brown liquid from her crystal cocktail glass. Whiskey, no doubt.

Coco sat off to the side, curled on the couch with a pint of chocolate fudge ice cream in one hand and a soup spoon in the other.
Uh-oh—trouble.
The razor-thin, always-dieting Coco De Clerq eating ice cream—real, honest-to-God, full-fat ice cream—was an extremely bad sign. Something was seriously wrong.

“Haley,” Coco said without enthusiasm. “You came. Good.” She stuffed a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

Haley sat down on Coco's sofa and watched Spencer deal another hand. “Thank God Mom and Dad are in Palm Beach this weekend,” Ali said, studying her new cards. “I don't think I could handle them breathing down our necks every second. After a few months in college you get used to doing things your own way, know what I mean?”

Ali De Clerq was a freshman at Yale, home for the Thanksgiving holiday—which would explain the unhappy expression on Coco's face. Coco and Ali were very competitive, and one thing they used to fight over all the time was Spencer. Ali and Spencer always claimed they were just very close friends, but Coco had never quite trusted her big sis. Even Haley had to admit that sometimes it seemed as though there was more going on between Ali and Spencer, no matter how heartily they protested their innocence.

“Totally,” Spencer said. “I can't wait to get the hell out of here and be on my own. That's one thing I miss about boarding school.”

Haley suppressed an incredulous laugh and glanced at Coco, who miserably sucked on her spoon. Coco had more freedom and less supervision than almost anybody at Hillsdale High except Spencer—at least, until his mother's recent election. The De Clerq
père
and
mère
were always partying or jetting off to some glamorous destination, and Spencer's mother was busy with her political career. No one could stop Spencer, who'd been kicked out of more than one boarding school, from doing whatever he wanted, certainly not his parents.

“College is like another universe,” Ali said. “The boys are so wild. And the parties! Your silly SIGMA bashes don't come close, Spence.”

Spencer had started a secret society called SIGMA, which threw floating parties known for their reckless abandon—drinking, gambling, hooking up, whatever. Students could gain entrance to the bashes only by exclusive invitation or by knowing that night's password. Trying to get into a SIGMA party was the goal of every high school student in North Jersey.

“SIGMA's getting hotter this year,” Spencer vowed, sipping from his own tumbler of whiskey. “Bigger, too. I'm thinking of having a burlesque show, where the hotties of Hillsdale do a striptease—”

“Get over yourself, Spencer,” Coco snapped. “No one's going to do a striptease at a SIGMA party.”

“They will if they're drunk enough,” Spencer said. “You've come close a few times.”

Ali laughed and Coco scowled. “Please,” Ali said. “That's baby stuff. Up at Yale we go out every night—the key is never to sign up for a class that meets in the morning. Some guy always has a keg going in his dorm suite, but I like the late-night cocktail parties better. There are these secret societies that, like, presidents and major business leaders have belonged to, and they have these elaborate clubhouses that look like Greek temples, and you can't believe what goes on in there. They're all sworn to secrecy, but rumors do go around. . . .”

“I've already decided I'm going to pledge Skull and Bones when I get up there two years from now,” Spencer said.

“You totally should,” Ali said. “Then you can tell me all about it.”

Coco rolled her eyes. “How are you going to get into Yale, Spencer? Your grades don't even come close to being good enough.”

“Who needs grades?” Spencer said. “My mother is the new governor of New Jersey come January—or have you forgotten? That wouldn't be like you, Cocopuff, to forget something as important as that. Especially since you're so crazy about the thought of setting up camp in the governor's mansion.”

Ali laughed. “You always were a suck-up, Coco. Come on, Spencer, make a bet or fold your pathetic little hand.”

“I'm in for twenty,” Spencer said. “So have you met any famous people's kids yet?”

“Are you kidding?” Ali said. “They don't let you in unless your parents are rich and/or famous or you're a genius.”

“How'd you get in, then?” Coco asked, expressing exactly what Haley was thinking but was too polite to say out loud.

“Genius, of course,” Ali said without batting an eyelash. “One of my suitemates, Carlotta, has a pied-à-terre across from the Met on Fifth Avenue. Her mother's a Spanish duchess or something—they're related to the Spanish royal family somehow—and she's never there, so Carlotta brings a gang of us down to the city to party in style all weekend . . . but I swear the best part is that nobody has to know where I am or what I'm doing. I don't have to check in with Mom or Consuela and lie to them about what I've been up to all night. I just love that freedom.”

“When do you study?” Haley asked. “I mean, isn't Yale kind of a tough school? Don't you have a lot of work to do?”

“Work, shmerk,” Ali said. “Read this, read that . . . you don't even have to show up to lectures if you don't feel like it. We get a week before exams to study—I'll make up all my work then.”

“Really, why waste your time studying?” Spencer said. “You're young, you're beautiful—it's your time to live, baby!”

“Oh, Spencer, shut up,” Coco said. “Can we talk about something else, please?”

“Like what, baby sis?” Ali said. “Homecoming? The latest zit creams?” She and Spencer snickered. Haley could feel Coco fuming beside her, probably because Coco's forehead was showing some signs of stress.

“You're hilarious,” Coco snapped.

Haley decided to change the subject. “Did you guys hear that Reese Highland broke his foot in the soccer game today? He left the field on crutches.”

“You're kidding,” Spencer said. He seemed genuinely upset. “He actually broke his foot? Or just sprained something?”

“It's broken,” Haley said. “My mother talked to his mother when they got back from the emergency room.”

“That sucks,” Spencer said. “Does this mean he won't be playing hoops this year?”

“Looks that way,” Coco said, glad someone had finally snatched her boyfriend's attention away from her self-centered sister.

“But we need him.” Spencer dropped his cards on the table and said, “I'm out.” Then he got up, glass in hand, and paced the room. “This was going to be the year the Hawks go all the way! Without Reese it's going to be impossible—or close to it. . . .”

While Spencer muttered drunkenly about the fate of the basketball team, Haley's bag vibrated. She reached inside and pulled out her buzzing cell phone. A text was coming in—from Reese, of all people.

Need 2 C U. Meet me 4 a bite at Hap's?

“What is it?” Coco leaned over, trying to read Haley's phone, which immediately vibrated again—another text coming in.

“Nothing, just a text,” Haley said, glancing at the new message. This was from Sasha Lewis—a former sidekick of Coco's, now estranged.

The whole posse's going to Bubbies,

the text said.

Come meet us!

“Now what?” Coco asked, her usual nosy self.

“Nothing,” Haley said. “I'll be right back.”

She got up and went into the bathroom. She needed a minute to think without Spencer and Ali's inane chatter cluttering her mind. If she went to Hap's to meet Reese, she didn't want Coco tagging along. And if she chose to go see Sasha and Whitney, they especially wouldn't appreciate Coco's presence. But if Coco knew where Haley was going, in either case, she might insist on tagging along. And it wasn't easy saying no to Coco—
no
was a word Miss De Clerq refused to hear.

With Ali around, Coco needs a friend, no question. She could use Haley's help—but does she deserve it? She's not exactly the most loyal, reliable friend to Haley. But maybe you think Haley is the type who rises above that, who is good even to those who've wronged her. Or maybe you think everybody will feel a lot better once Ali is gone again—including Haley. Getting rid of Ali could make all their lives easier. And no one wants to see two sisters tear each other limb from limb—do they? If you think Haley needs to get Ali back to college quick, before she does anything else to harm Coco and Spencer's unstable union, turn to (
SEND OFF ALI
).

Maybe Haley should put as much distance between herself and the De Clerq sisters as she can and go hang with Reese. If you think Haley will take any chance she can get to be alone with Reese on a date, go to Hap's on (
CASTAWAY
). If you think Haley would rather go hang with Sasha, Cecily, Whitney and their boyfriends, go to Bubbies on (
MAMMA MIA
).

Of course, maybe you think none of those choices is right for our Haley. If you're not convinced she has any idea what to do with her social life, turn to (
FAMILY JEWELS
). Sometimes the gem you've been waiting for is sitting right under your nose.

BOOK: What If ... Your Past Came Back to Haunt You
2.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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