I PARK A BLOCK AWAY FROM KAT’S HOUSE, TO BE ON the safe side. The houses are a lot closer together here, and mostly split-levels. There aren’t the big hedges and gates that the houses in White Haven have, so everybody can see everything. Rennie lives pretty close by, and Reeve does too, so I’m not taking any chances. On Jar Island, you never know who’s watching.
I ring the doorbell, but no one answers. The plan was to meet here after Kat took the SATs. You couldn’t pay me to take them again, even if I was guaranteed a perfect score.
I wait before I ring it a second time. A minute goes by and still nothing. The light’s on in the kitchen, though. Somebody’s home. Gingerly, I touch the door handle, and it’s unlocked, the way it always was. “Hello?” I call out, opening the door a crack. “Kat?”
When we were growing up, Kat’s house was like that— neighborhood kids were always running in and out the front door, and nobody minded. My mom would have been all, Would you mind taking your shoes off at the door, and also, does your mother know you’re over here, and who wants some Greek yogurt with blueberries? At Kat’s house it was a free-for-all; we would stuff our faces with Cheetos and Mountain Dew and play video games for hours and nobody would bother us. It was kid heaven.
“Hello?” I call out again.
A guy’s voice says, “It’s open.”
I venture into the kitchen, and there is Patrick, sitting at the table, eating cereal without a shirt on, even though it’s well past lunchtime. He looks sweaty and dirty, like he just got back from riding around on his bike. His shoulders are freckled the way I remember, but he’s not so skinny anymore—still lean, but stronger looking. His eyes widen for a split second; then he grins. “What are you doing on this side of the island, little girl?”
My throat feels dry all of a sudden. “Hi, Patrick.”
He drawls, “Are you here to see Kat, or me?”
I feel myself blush. “Kat. We—we have a project at school. Did she finish the SATs?”
“Yeah. She ran out for something. Cigarettes, I think,” he says, and then he starts eating his cereal again, like it’s perfectly normal that I’m in his house and he doesn’t have a shirt on. With his mouth full he asks, “Want some cereal?”
“What kind?”
“Your favorite,” he says, and he points to the seat next to him. “Sit down.”
Even though I had chicken salad on a croissant an hour ago, I sit down, and he gets up and brings a box of Trix, which is my favorite, a jug of milk, and a spoon. He tips more Trix into his bowl and pushes it so it’s between us.
“Bon appetit, Lil,” he says, handing me the spoon.
And then we’re both eating Trix, from the same bowl, and he smells like outside and wind and motor oil.
I can’t believe Patrick remembered that Trix was my favorite. I haven’t seen him in years, and also he goes to college now, so why should he remember anything about me?
It’s funny, because even though my crush on him was so long ago, sitting across from him now at Kat’s kitchen table, it feels like yesterday that I loved Patrick and that Rennie and Kat and I were best friends. RKL till we die.
He’s telling me about some philosophy class he’s taking at the community college, and I’m nodding hard like I’m paying attention, but all I can think about is how his eyes are green like evergreen, same as before—when Kat comes home. She looks surprised to see me, even though we said we were hanging out this afternoon.
Leaning against the doorway, she says, “What are you guys doing?”
“Eating cereal. What does it look like?” Patrick says, and I giggle.
Kat shoots me a strange look. “Bring it up to my room, Lil.” Then she heads down the hallway.
I stand up. “Do you mind?” I ask him. “If I take it with me?”
“Be my guest,” he says.
Cradling the bowl against my chest, I say, “Thanks for the cereal, Patrick.”
“Anytime, Lil.” He winks at me, and I press my lips together so I don’t smile. Then I trail after Kat, to her room.
“What the hell was that?” Kat asks me. She’s lounging on her bed with her shoes on. Ew.
“What?” I say, sinking onto the floor. I know we were supposed to be keeping everything on the DL, but it’s not like it’s my fault Pat is home.
“You know what,” she says, smirking at me. She shakes her head. “That lowlife is skipping class again. Such a loser. I have no idea why you were always so gaga over my gross brother. He goes to JICC; isn’t that beneath you? ’Cause it’s sure as shit beneath me.”
Stiffly I say, “I was never gaga over Patrick. Also there’s nothing wrong with community college. He says he’s probably going to transfer soon anyway.” So I guess Kat’s known all along. I never told her I had a crush on Patrick; I only told Rennie, who swore up and down she’d never tell. Yet another betrayal.
Kat snorts. “Oh, sweet naive Lil. He ain’t going anywhere. He has, like, two credits. He’ll be stuck on Jar Island for the rest of his damn life.”
“How did the SAT retakes go?”
“Hell if I know.”
I concentrate on eating my cereal fast, because it’s getting soggy. “When’s Mary coming?” I ask, wiping milk off my chin.
“I think she said she had to do something with her aunt first, and then she’d either get a ride from her or bike over.”
“Cool,” I say. I drink my sweet cereal milk, and then I put the bowl down on the carpet. I take off my flats and crawl onto the bed next to Kat. She scoots over for me. Staring up at the ceiling, I say, “So, um, did Patrick ever say anything about me?”
Kat busts out laughing and hits me over the head with her banana pillow. I laugh too, and then I burst out, “I can’t believe Rennie told you I liked Patrick when she explicitly promised she never would. She swore on her mom’s life!”
Giggling, Kat says, “Even if she didn’t tell me, it was so obvious. You used to think up excuses for why we should have sleepovers over here instead of at Rennie’s!”
“Well, that was partly because of Shep.” My mom is supposedly allergic to dogs, so we’ve never been allowed to have one, no matter how much we beg. I think it’s because she doesn’t want a dog on our white furniture. Sitting up, I call out, “Shep! C’mere, Shep!”
Shep comes bounding into the room, and he jumps on the bed and kisses my face. I hug him to me. “Hello, sweet boy,” I say in his ear.
“Remember those skanks Pat used to bring home?” Kat asks me suddenly. “They were always way older and they’d smoke inside the house. Remember that one time?”
Of course I remember.
I was thirteen during the height of my Patrick crush, so I guess he was fifteen or sixteen at the time, and the girls he hung out with seemed like women to me. They had boobs and they cussed and they rode around on the back of his motorcycle.
There was this one girl, Beth. It was the middle of the day, and Rennie and Kat and I were in the TV room blasting music, practicing a routine from one of those dance movies where people have dance-offs in the rain in a parking lot.
“Lil, you have to roll your hips back like this,” Rennie instructed me, demonstrating.
She and Kat started doing it together in perfect unison. “Loosen up, Lil,” Kat said. “You’re too stiff.”
Haltingly, I tried to follow their lead and get the motion. That’s when Patrick and Beth came in. They burst out laughing, and I stopped immediately, but Rennie and Kat ignored them and kept on going, even when they sat down on the couch and watched.
Beth had auburn hair; it was long enough to put in a ponytail, but barely. She had on a ton of eyeliner and no lipstick, and a big black T-shirt with slashed arms that she wore as a dress. She looked like she was twenty-two even though she was probably only eighteen. “Look at those little hoochies in the making,” she cracked, lighting up a cigarette. Her voice was low and husky.
Patrick snorted, and I lowered my eyes. Through my lashes I sneaked a peek at her. She had her legs stretched out on the coffee table even though she still had shoes on. “Let’s go upstairs,” I whispered, but Kat ignored me.
“We’re hoochies?” Kat said. “Look at you. Where are your pants? In the back of somebody’s truck?”
Beth guffawed with hoarse laughter and took a drag of her cigarette. She looked sexy when she did it, like she was in a movie.
“Excuse me, but you’re not allowed to smoke in the house,” Rennie said, her hands on her hips.
Patrick tapped a cigarette out of Beth’s box. “Go play outside, little girls. We want to watch TV.” They smirked at each other.
“We were here first,” Rennie said.
Patrick gave her a threatening look, and Kat said, “Fine, fine. We’re going.” To us she said, “Come on.” At the last second she snatched Beth’s pack of cigarettes and made a run for it with us close behind her. We ran out the screen door and I could hear Patrick’s roar.
I never felt more my age than that moment. I wanted to be eighteen and not thirteen. I wanted Patrick to look at me like he was looking at her.
And more than anything, what I wanted was to ride on the back of Patrick’s motorcycle. Once, to see what it felt like to go that fast, with only him to anchor me to the world. My parents would have sent me to a convent if I’d ever even said that out loud. They’d made me promise I would never ride on Pat’s motorcycle; that was the condition of me being allowed to hang out at Kat’s house.
I’ve never broken a promise to my parents before, but if Patrick asked me to go for a ride on his bike right now, I’d do it. I wouldn’t even hesitate. To be that wild and free. I want to know what that feels like.
We’re eating candy-apple popcorn and listening to music— Kat’s favorite band, but it’s making my head hurt, it’s so loud—so we don’t hear Mary when gets here. She bounds into the room, her cheeks all rosy and pink, already so much better than she looked on Thursday. “Mary!” I sing out.
“Hi, hi!” she says, coming over by the bed. She’s about to sit down with us when Shep bares his teeth and growls at her.
Kat grabs him by the collar and gives him a shake. To Shep she says, “Cut that shit out.” To Mary she says, “He’s harmless, I swear.”
Mary gives a nervous laugh and sits on the floor. “Dogs usually love me.”
“I can kick him out,” Kat offers, getting up.
“No,” I protest. “Let me cuddle with him. Mary, he won’t come near you.”
“Fine by me,” she says, giggling. “Nice doggie.”
Shep darts under the bed, and I crawl over and try to lure him out with a handful of popcorn, and he looks tempted but doesn’t come out. I offer Mary the can. “It’s so good,” I say, dangling it in front of her.
Mary makes a face. “You only like super-sweet things, Lillia.”
“That’s ’cause I’m so sweet,” I say in a singsong voice. She smiles back at me, and I climb into Kat’s hammock.
Kat snorts and goes to her closet. She throws me a shopping bag of clothes. “Here. Ammo.”
Before I even open it, I say, “Just so you know, I’m not wearing fishnets.”
“There aren’t any fishnets in there, you beotch.” She plops down on her bed and watches me as I start going through the bag.
A pink strapless corseted top. A lacy black corseted top. Cream thigh-high socks made out of soft yarn. A bandage skirt so short it might even be a tube top; I can’t tell. The socks are kind of cute, but this other stuff looks like Frederick’s of Hollywood. Totally not my style.
“Kat, did you steal all this?” I ask. I’m mostly kidding.
Kat rolls her eyes. “You know I don’t steal, beotch. That’s your girl Rennie. Oh, and BTW, you owe me a hundred and sixty bucks.”
I lift up a stretchy long-sleeved minidress. It’s basically a ballet leotard. “I’m not wearing this!” I shriek. “I’ll look like a prostitute.”
“I have that in purple,” Kat says, glaring at me.
Whoops . . . “It’s not really my look,” I say. “I mean, I’m sure you look amazing in it. But it’s not me.” I spot a black lace corset at the bottom of the pile. “You expect me to go to school in lingerie?”
Kat scoots over to the edge of the bed. “So what! You’re gonna look hot. You strut into school wearing that and some high-ass heels, and Reeve’s head will be spinning. All you have to do is wear the clothes; then you catch his eye. Next comes physical contact, a touch on the arm, a hand on his knee. Then you talk to other guys and inspire jealousy. It’s simple.”
“Um, excuse me, but I know how to talk to boys,” I snap. As if I need Kat to give me advice on how to get a boy to notice me! I add, “For your information, I set a student-council record last Valentine’s Day for most roses ever sent to a girl at Jar High.” True, a dozen were from my dad, but I got roses from boys, too. I even beat out Rennie. She kept saying how I wouldn’t have won if it hadn’t been for my dad. Now that I’m thinking of it, I’ll beat her this year too. I’ll do whatever it takes, talk to ugly freshman dorks if I have to.
Kat heaves a sigh. “Fine. If you’re not going to wear this stuff, then what do you have in mind?”
I pop some popcorn into my mouth and think. “Well, I have this cute blouse with a bow at the collar; I could wear that with these amazing gray flannel shorts that roll up on the bottom. I saw them online last night.”
Mary and Kat exchange a look.
Kat leans forward. “Listen. The way I see it, you’re more of a Jackie O type. You’re classy and refined and stylish.”
I give her a nod. “True, true, and true.”
Rolling her eyes, Kat continues. “But we need you to be a Marilyn. Sexy. A bombshell. Like, we don’t want Reeve to want to bring you home to his mom. We want him to want you. Hard-core obsession want. Blue balls want—”
“Okay, okay! I get it!” Giggling, I fall back into the hammock. “But you guys, he’s so gross. I’ll be throwing up in my mouth every time I have to pretend cozy up to him.”
Kat tosses the stretchy dress at my head. “At least try it on.”
Mary says, “Yeah, Lil. Anything’s going to look pretty on you.”
I groan.
“Lil, trust me on this. I know what I’m talking about. Do you know how many lead singers I made out with this summer? Four! There were hotter girls than me around, but I’m the one they picked out of the crowd. You wanna know why? Attitude. It’s all about attitude. You act like you’re the shit and guys are so dumb they’ll totally believe it.”
She’s completely right. Look at Rennie. Rennie’s all attitude. Whatever she wants, she gets. She has the whole school under her spell. Forget Marilyn. I’ll just channel Rennie.
I pick up the dress. “So what do you guys want me to wear first? This streetwalker dress or this bra top?”
Mary squeals, and Kat’s eyes gleam as she says, “Defnitely the dress.”
When we pull into the school parking lot on Monday, Nadia sees her friend Janelle and gets me to drop her off by the front entrance. I take my time parking and then fixing my hair in the rearview mirror. I put it in my mom’s hot rollers before I went to bed, and then I slept on it so it wouldn’t be too bouncy. Bombshell hair, Kat kept saying last night. This isn’t exactly bombshell hair, but it’s fancier than my normal style. I dab some pink gloss on my lips, too.
When I step out of my car, I make sure to keep my trench coat buttoned and tied tight around my waist. Right as I close the car door, I spot Kat watching me from across the lot, hanging on the chain-link fence. She shakes her head and mouths, No coat. I mouth back, I’m cold, and I shoot her a pleading look, but she shakes her head again. She mouths, Marilyn. Slowly, I peel the coat off and stow it in my trunk.
I make my way across the parking lot and into the school. I’m wearing my highest heels, the pale pink patent-leather ones from homecoming. I walk up the steps carefully so I don’t trip and fall. The dress is super tight but also totally comfy, because it’s basically spandex. It barely covers my butt and it makes my boobs look huge, which never, ever happens. I hope I don’t get sent home for wearing it. My mom would probably faint.
Right away I can sense people staring, but I look straight ahead, head up, shoulders back. A sophomore girl whispers to her friend, “Damn . . .” and a couple of boys whistle. I walk like I don’t hear them; I walk like I own this school.
This must be what it feels like to be Rennie.
I drop off my bag in my locker and only carry a purse, which is way sexier and more Marilyn than my school bag. I touch up my lip gloss, too. There’s five minutes before the bell rings, which means that Reeve will be by the vending machines with Alex and PJ like every morning.
Which they are; they’re leaning against the wall of lockers, eating doughnuts, except for Reeve, who has a protein bar. No Rennie, thank God. My heart is thudding in my ears as I wave hi and sail past them. I go straight for the vending machine. As I punch the numbers for chocolate doughnuts, I peek in the glass to see if Reeve is looking. He’s not. He’s polishing off the bar. I notice too that he doesn’t have his crutches anymore. And he’s traded in his soft cast for a walking boot.
PJ lets out a low whistle and calls out, “What are you all dressed up for, Lil?”
Turning slightly, I say, “I have to give a presentation in French class.” Which would totally make sense if I were giving a presentation on the Moulin Rouge.
“Très bien,” PJ says appreciatively, and I give him a curtsy.
My dress is too short for me to bend down and pick the doughnuts out of the slot. Luckily, Alex comes right up beside me. “You look—wow,” he says, in a low voice.
I can feel myself blushing. “Thanks.”
Alex stoops down and grabs my doughnuts and hands them to me. “Wow,” he says again. His eyes are wide, and he’s staring at me.
I try not to smile. I can’t remember—should I have already attempted physical contact with Reeve, or do I go straight to making him jealous? I don’t even know if he’s looking at me.
I’m about to sneak a quick peek at Reeve when I see Rennie coming down the hall with Ashlin. Quickly, I link my arm through Alex’s. “Walk me to class?” I chirp.
“Sure,” he says. “I’ll be your bodyguard.”
Reeve’s looking at me now. His eyes flicker over me and then, just as quickly, away from me. Completely disinterested. He’s not even making an obnoxious joke about the way I’m dressed. He wipes off his mouth and tosses the wrapper in the trash without another glance in my direction.
Maybe he’s still mad about the things I said to him on Halloween. Crap. If this plan of ours has any chance of working, I’m going to have to eat humble pie and apologize to him, which is the last thing I want to do.
At the lunch table, I’m all set to sit next to Reeve and make amends, but when I get there, he’s already sitting at the end and Rennie’s next to him. Her eyes go huge when she sees me in my getup, and I have to resist the urge to cross my arms over my chest.
I slide into the seat across from her. My plan is to pretend our Halloween fight never happened, because what other choice do I have? “Hey, guys,” I say, opening my bottle of blueberry white tea.
She acts like she didn’t hear me, which is fine, and then she puts her head on Reeve’s shoulder and says, “Do you want me to get you something from the lunch line, babe?”
“Nah, I’m good,” he says, shaking a box of Muscle Milk.
“Okay, I’m gonna get some fries. I’ll be back in two secs.” Rennie practically skips over to the lunch line.
When she’s gone, I lean forward and quickly whisper, “Hey, um, I’m sorry for those things I said on Halloween. I think I had too much to drink.”
My apology barely registers. He says flatly, “Yeah, ya think?”
Clearly, Reeve’s not going to make this easy on me. How very Reeve of him. I swallow, lower my head, and then look up at him through my lashes. I’ve got to put on an Oscar-worthy performance here. In a contrite voice I say, “Reeve, I really am sorry. I should never have said that stuff to you . . . Especially since you came to Fall Fest and tried your best to help me out, even with your injury.” I reach out and touch his arm lightly.
Reeve moves his arm away from me. “I didn’t come to Fall Fest to help you out. I did it because I made a commitment to the kids.” He tips back in his chair.
This isn’t working, like, at all. I’m going to have to change tactics. Maybe tell the truth a little. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Rennie and I are sort of in a fight. It’s been . . . hard, and I think I took it out on you because you were there. So, I’m sorry. I promise I didn’t mean any of those things I said.” Well, that part’s a lie.
Reeve shrugs and takes a swig of milk.
Gee, thanks for being so understanding, Reeve. Thanks a whole bunch.
