I WAKE UP TO THE SOUND OF MY PHONE RINGING. I’m buried under my comforter, and it’s dark in my room because the shades are all drawn. Blindly I sit up and start pawing around my bed for my cell phone. Then the ringing stops and I lie back down. And then the ringing starts again.
Kat’s sprawled out on the floor on her sleeping bag, twisted up in my baby blanket. She groans loudly. “Somebody turn that shit off!”
From my love seat Mary lifts her head and asks, “What time is it?”
“Too damn early,” Kat growls.
I finally find my phone at the foot of my bed. It’s Reeve. I sit up quick. “It’s Reeve, you guys!” I yelp.
Kat jumps onto my bed, and Mary rushes over and kneels on the floor beside us. Everybody’s awake now. “What do I do?” I ask them. Panic is rising in my chest. “Should I pick up?” Yesterday I fully accepted that I would never speak to Reeve Tabatsky again in my life. But I didn’t think for a second that he’d call me.
“Put him on speaker!” Kat orders. “Be brutal, Lil!”
My hand is shaking as I answer it. I click speaker. “Hello?”
“Hey, what’s going on?”
I say, “Who is this?” in a fake sleepy voice, and Kat falls over laughing silently. Mary’s crouching at my side, her eyes wide. I don’t even know if she’s breathing.
“It’s Reeve!” And I can tell he’s annoyed. “Why aren’t you here yet?”
“I just woke up. I guess I overslept. Sorry.” I keep my voice indifferent and un-sorry.
He huffs, “Well, can you come over now?”
My heart does a little ping. I take a deep breath and try to conjure up some of the anger I felt when he didn’t come back the other night, but it’s gone. Proof positive that this whole mess has gone too far.
Awkwardly I say, “I’m not really feeling it.”
At this, Mary covers her mouth with her hands and Kat’s literally rolling on the floor, kicking her feet in the air. There’s a long silence, and Reeve doesn’t speak, and I think maybe he already hung up.
But then he says, “I’m coming over,” and my heart stops.
“Wait!” I say, but he’s hung up for real this time. I drop my phone and look at the girls in horror. “Oh my God. Oh my God. What am I supposed to do now? He’s coming over here!”
Kat’s doing a dance, running in place. “Hells, yeah! Let him! It ain’t over till the fat lady sings!” Kat boogies over to my window and peers outside. “He’s still on our hook. I mean, what else would he want?”
“I don’t know what he wants!” What does it matter? He’s coming. He’ll be here in, like, five minutes! And I’m not going to answer the door looking like a pile of crap. I run to my bathroom and splash cold water on my face and brush my teeth as fast as I can. I throw off my sweats and put my cute cami-and-shorts set back on.
Out in my room, I hear Kat and Mary debating how I should handle things.
Kat says, “I think she should be mean when she first answers the door, then look upset, then be sad. You know? To make him feel extra bad?” She calls out to me, “Lil, do you think you could squeeze out a few tears?”
And then Mary says, “I don’t think she should cry. I think she should get mad. Maybe she could even slap him?”
Kat busts up laughing.
Quietly I say, more to myself than anyone, “I think I just want to get this over with.”
When I come out of the bathroom, Kat and Mary are already downstairs hiding in the foyer. They’re crouching behind a chaise longue. “Guys, what if he tries to come all the way inside?” I say, pulling on a hoodie. “He’ll see you.”
“But we want to hear everything,” Kat whines. “Don’t let him past the front door and it’ll be fine.”
“I’m nervous,” I say, putting my hands on my cheeks. My hands are cold, but my cheeks are burning up.
“Don’t be,” Mary says. “You’ve been perfect so far.”
The doorbell rings, and my stomach drops. “Damn, did he fly over here?” Kat whispers.
I look at Mary for reassurance, and she nods at me encouragingly. “Crush him, Lil.” I answer the door.
Reeve’s standing there in jeans and a button-down and a puffy vest. “Why aren’t you dressed?” he demands, jamming his hands into his jeans pockets.
“I told you, I overslept,” I say. I let my hair fall in my face.
“Yeah, I know. I heard you on the phone. What did you mean when you said you weren’t feeling it?” He looks genuinely disappointed, which throws me off for a second.
“I didn’t even know if I was still invited,” I say.
His eyebrows knit together. “Why?”
Is he being dense on purpose? “You never came back the other night.”
Reeve lets out a breath. “But I told you, I had to help Rennie get home! You saw how drunk she was.”
“Oh, please. Rennie was playing you, and you let her.”
“I couldn’t just leave, Cho. She woke up her mom to say hi to me, and then they dragged out all these old photo albums of us when we were kids.”
He’s telling the truth, I can tell. And it does sound like something Rennie would do, especially knowing that I was sitting at home waiting for him. I force this thought aside and in a bored, blasé voice I say, “Whatever.”
Tightly he says, “Ren means a lot to me. She’s been there for me every time I’ve ever needed her. I don’t want her to get hurt. You of all people should get that.”
I cross my arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Lind! You’re always so concerned about his feelings.”
How dare he throw Alex in my face? “Yeah, I am concerned about Alex’s feelings. I care about him, because he’s my friend. He’s been there for me every time I’ve needed him. That’s the kind of person he is. He’s good.”
Reeve stiffens and I feel a surge of satisfaction. Be jealous. I hope you choke on it.
I keep going. “And yet I was still willing to let Alex know that we were together at my party. Despite knowing it would hurt him, I was willing to do it. Unlike you. You talk a big game, Reeve, but when it comes down to actually doing something, you punk out.”
“I didn’t punk out! But I didn’t want to throw it in their faces!”
“You mean you didn’t want to throw it in Rennie’s face. Since she’s your girl and all.”
Reeve shakes his head and exhales loudly. “That’s not what I’m saying and you know it!” He looks away. “Can you just . . . can you go get dressed and come with me and we’ll talk about it later? My mom’s expecting you.”
My heart plummets. Oh God. His mom? All I want to do is run upstairs and put on something nice and go with him. If Kat and Mary weren’t standing on the other side of this door, maybe I would.
But I can’t. They’re here, and this is fake and I just can’t.
“I don’t think so,” I say, lifting my chin high. “Honestly, I don’t feel like coming over and doing the whole family thing today. We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend or anything.”
He pales. “Are you serious? Come on, Cho. If you want me to, I’ll call Rennie right now and tell her how I feel about you.”
“That’s not necessary.” I start to close the door in his face, but he reaches out and blocks it with his arm.
“Wait! You’re right. I was a coward. I should have been the one to tell her weeks ago. I got scared, Lillia. Please, give me another chance. Let me prove it to you.” He tries to grab my hand, but I pull it away and shake my head.
I can’t even look at him.
Because this is real. He’s not playing me. One look at his face, at the hurt and the desperation in his eyes, and I know it’s real.
I also know that I can’t do this anymore. I have to finish it now. If I don’t break it off right this very second, I’ll never be able to do it. It’s better this way—it really is. The longer this thing goes, the harder it will be, for everybody. It’s already gone way too far.
I’ve fallen for the one person I shouldn’t have. For the boy who broke Mary’s heart. For Rennie’s one true love. For Alex’s best friend.
It has to end here. Now.
I take a breath. “You’ve already proven who you are, over and over again. The crazy thing is, I’ve known it all along. But these last few weeks, I’ve tricked myself into believing that there was something more to you than the self-centered jerk I’ve known for years. Maybe . . . maybe because I felt sorry for you.” I shake my head. “But you are who you are, Reeve. And the fact is, you’ll never be able to treat me the way I deserve to be treated. You don’t have it in you. So let’s just stop here. You’re probably as tired of pretending to be a good guy as I am of pretending to believe it.”
The words come out of my mouth, but they don’t sound like me. I don’t sound like me. Probably because I know it’s all lies.
But I can see that they’re lies that Reeve believes. He swallows them whole. His eyes go blank. Empty. He completely shuts down.
That’s what hurts me the most, how easily he believes, and I know it’s because deep down it’s what he believes about himself. I’ve preyed upon his deepest fear and used it against him, and I think that’s maybe the biggest betrayal yet.
Still, some part of me is expecting him to fight back, to tell me I’m wrong. Because the Reeve Tabatsky I know never gives up. But I’m hoping this time he will.
Leave, just leave.
And that’s exactly what he does. Without another word, he turns around, walks to his truck, and drives away.
I close the door, and Kat’s jumping up and down, and Mary’s staring at the door, stunned.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I couldn’t wait until New Year’s Eve.”
“Screw New Year’s Eve! The ball dropped here and now, baby!”
I’m almost afraid to look at Mary. If this isn’t enough for her, I don’t know what else I can do. I feel like I’ve died a little inside.
“Oh my God,” she says, the words trickling out of her mouth like honey. “I felt it happen.” Mary focuses on me, then touches her hand to her chest. Her eyes flutter as she says, brightly, “I actually felt his heart break.”
I force myself to smile.
The girls leave my house late in the afternoon. By that time, the sick feeling that’s been inside me ever since Reeve drove away has turned into full-on nausea.
It makes my stomach lurch, replaying it in my head. The things I said. How cruel I was to him, how cold.
Mary and Kat played the whole thing out over and over to each other, mimicking Reeve in the deepest guy voices they could put on: “My mom’s expecting you.” I swear, they must have said that a hundred times, laughing harder and harder.
They wouldn’t have laughed if they’d caught a glimpse of him from their hiding spot. They didn’t have to see the hurt in his eyes. Not like I had to.
Right after Reeve drove off, Kat took my cell and placed it on our kitchen island, where the three of us could stare at it. She said they shouldn’t leave yet, because Reeve would definitely call before he got home. In fact, she said, we should all keep our voices down, in case he was circling the block.
Of course he wasn’t. He didn’t come back; he didn’t call. I knew he wouldn’t.
An hour later, Kat painted us a picture of Reeve stewing, picking up and putting down his cell phone like a tortured man. He’d surely call me after lunch. When that hour came and went, Kat changed her mind and said that I’d definitely hear from him before they had to go. As Kat rolled up her sleeping bag, she swore up and down that Reeve would totally text me before it was time for bed. Or tomorrow, at the absolute latest.
Kat put on her boots and loaded her stuff in her arms. Before she and Mary headed out the front door, she called out from the bottom of the stairs, “If he calls tonight, memorize every word he says so we can all have a laugh!”
As Mary slipped on her shoes, I held the front door for her. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did,” she said, tears shimmering in her eyes.
I swallowed hard and said, “You’re welcome. I’m just glad it’s over.”
I’m lying on my couch with a pillow over my face.
I know it was my choice to get it over with, but now I’m wishing I had done it differently. Like I could have waited until I was at the open house. Alone, without an audience. I could have let him down easy. I could have said, I care about you a lot, but I think we’re better off as friends. Kat and Mary wouldn’t ever have had to know the specifics, only that I’d done the deed as promised. Sure, he’d still be mad, but he wouldn’t have a reason to hate me. The thought of Reeve hating me . . . right now I can’t think of anything worse.
It’s only three o’clock. Reeve said himself that people stop in all day long at his family’s open house. If I hurry, I could still go over there and talk to him. Make him understand. We can’t be together, but I can still take back the terrible things I said.
I run upstairs and turn on the shower, dancing from one foot to the other until the water gets warm. But shoot, I don’t have time for a shower! My hair takes forever to dry!
I turn off the water and plug in my curling iron instead. While it heats up, I dash into my closet and throw on the royal-blue silk shirtdress I bought as a backup for college interviews. I pair it with my nude pumps and the string of mini pearls my dad bought for me when I turned sixteen. I curl the ends of my hair, then put on mascara, a touch of pink blush, and a plain glossy lip.
I check my reflection in the foyer mirror before I run out the door. I look festive, feminine, and mature. Which is great. I want to make a good impression on Reeve’s mom. Who knows what she must think of me now, showing up hours late.
I’m about halfway to T-Town when I remember that I can’t go to his house empty-handed. I do a U-turn in the middle of the street, and a bunch of people honk, but I don’t even care. Milky Morning is already closed, so I go to the florist next door and have them wrap up their biggest red poinsettia in cellophane. It’s more of a centerpiece than a houseplant, the kind of thing you’d see in the lobby of a hotel. It’s oversized and set in a beautiful pot made to look like a vintage mirror. The thing costs over a hundred dollars with tax, but whatever. I ask the guy to load it in my passenger seat.
I get to Reeve’s house close to four o’clock. I’m relieved that there are still loads of cars there, so many cars there’s hardly anywhere to park. I pull across the apron of his neighbor’s driveway, completely blocking their minivan in. I’ll move my car as soon as I have a chance to tell Reeve that I’m sorry.
The plant weighs a freaking ton, but I manage to carry it up to his front door. I hear the party going on inside, people cheering at something on television. I set the plant down on the ground, run my fingers quick through my curls, and ring the doorbell.
Okay, Lil. Showtime. I’m nervous, but I’m excited, too. To make things right, to fix what I’ve screwed up. To feel like myself again.
The door opens, and it takes me a second to recognize the person who answers.
Rennie. She folds her arms across her chest. She’s dressed in a football jersey and a pair of leggings, bare feet, her hair pulled up in a sloppy bun at the tippy top of her head. I feel completely ridiculous and wrong in my fancy clothes.
“I can’t even believe you’d have the nerve to show up here,” she spits out.
“I need to talk to Reeve,” I say.
She lets out a harsh laugh. “You think he wants to talk to you? He’s through with you. He finally sees you for what you are. A fucking bitch.”
Helplessly, I look past her into the den, hoping he might see me standing here and change his mind. Or at least give me a chance to explain. But the den is full of boys, Reeve’s brothers and some other men I don’t know. Nearly all of them are wearing the same jersey Rennie has on; all their eyes are pinned to the television screen. Behind that is the Christmas tree, every single branch decorated. On the coffee table I see Rennie’s seven-layer taco dip, the one she always makes for sleepover parties in her mom’s blue casserole dish. And in the back of the house I see Reeve’s mom in a holiday apron and flannel slippers, stirring a big stockpot.
I call out Reeve’s name and try to edge my way past Rennie, but she pushes me so hard I stumble in my heels and almost fall backward. She says, “You’re not welcome here. Reeve hates you now just like I do.”
“He can tell me that himself,” I say, craning my head to see inside.
“He’s not downstairs,” Rennie informs me as she slouches in the door frame to block my view. “We’re upstairs in his room.” She over-enunciates the “we’re” part to make absolutely sure I hear it. I hear it, of course, and my imagination goes wild. of Reeve and Rennie lying in his bed, his head in her lap, her running her hands through his hair, and suddenly they start to kiss. Reeve knows exactly how to hurt me best, and so does Rennie. And I bet both of them wouldn’t hesitate to do it. “You should know better than to compete with me, Lil. You know I always win.”
I lift my chin. I’m not going to grovel at Rennie’s feet, like she’s the lady of the house and I’m a beggar off the street. “Tell him I stopped by.” I try to pick up the poinsettia to push it inside the house, but Rennie shakes her head and starts closing the door.
“They have a cat, and poinsettias are poisonous to cats.” A woman’s voice behind her shouts, “Who’s at the door?” Rennie calls out, “Nobody,” as it shuts in my face. On my way back to the car, I tell myself that this is for the best. Reeve and I are done. I’m finally off the hook. And even though it’s a huge relief, I still cry my eyes out the entire way back home.
