Burn for Burn (15 page)

Through the window I spot Alex getting out of a car. A woman—his mom, I guess—waves good-bye and drives off. I watch him run all the way to the main doors. I hear Alex’s feet pounding the linoleum, over Senor Tremont haggling with the girl sitting behind me over how many pimentos he can buy for three euros.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Senor,” he says, rushing in. “I had a doctor’s appointment.”

Senor Tremont frowns. Then he puts a hand up to his ear, pretending like he can’t hear Alex. “En español, Senor Lind. Por favor.”

Alex is halfway to his seat. He stops, his shoulders sag, and his eyes roll to the back of his head. I have to cover my mouth to keep in a laugh.

“Yo . . . yo soy . . . ,” Alex tries.

I lean forward on my elbows and cradle my chin in my hands. I really, really, really wish Lillia and Kat were here to see this for themselves.

Alex is trying to conjugate the verb “apologize” for the third time when the fire alarm goes off.

CHAPTER TWENTY

KAT

O
NCE THE FIRE ALARM STARTS GOING OFF
, I
FLICK MY
hand so that the cap of my Zippo lighter snaps closed. Just in time too, because I think I’m almost out of butane. Plus the metal case is blazing hot. I blow on it, jump off the radiator in the girls’ bathroom, and crouch down at the door. The top part of the door is wood, but the bottom is covered in thin slatted vents. I watch the hallway light get sliced by pair after pair of legs hurrying their way to the nearest exit. I hear one of the teachers say, “We didn’t have a drill planned for today, did we?” Another teacher says, “I think this might be the real deal.” They instruct their students to hurry along with urgent
This is not a test
voices.

Yeah. Hurry the eff up. I’ve got work to do.

I shrug off my book bag, slide my arms through the straps so that it hangs in front of my body, and open the zipper. Inside are the photocopies I made last week. I’ve also got a roll of masking tape I stole from the art room. I take that out and rip pieces off, sticking them on my arms so I can move fast.

Jar Island only has a volunteer fire department, so I figure it’ll take them at least ten minutes to get here. It takes one, maybe one and a half, for the school to empty. As soon as the coast is clear, I push open the door and start running.

The senior hallway will do the most damage, so that’s where I start, slapping up the photocopies every few feet. On classroom doors, on lockers, on the spout of the water fountain.

I know this is supposed to be Lillia’s revenge, but I have to admit, this feels pretty freaking awesome. Alex has tried calling me a few times in the last week. Not that I bothered to answer, or to call him back. He doesn’t deserve to ever speak to me again. That’s how it is with me—you do me wrong, you’re dead to me.

Except for Lillia. I’m making a temporary exception in her case.

At the end of the hall, I kick the door of the stairwell open and take the stairs two at a time, putting up copies as I go. The alarm is so loud, my ears are about to bleed. The emergency lights are giving off big bright flashes. I remember my brother’s friend Luke pulling the fire alarm my freshman year. He got suspended for a week, and he had to pay a big fine for wasting the volunteer fire department’s time. I hustle even faster.

When I reach the landing, I duck so I’m out of sight at the window, then sprint the rest of the way up to the second floor, where the freshman lockers are. Adrenaline pumps through me, and I feel like I could run forever.

I think about Nadia coming back in, seeing Alex’s face and reading his stupid poem, and being completely mortified. I doubt she’ll ever want to go for rides in his SUV again. I freaking love it. I love that Alex is going to get dumped by a freshman, that everyone in school is going to laugh at his corny ass.

I get another stretch of hallway done, though it takes me a lot longer this time because I have to stop and rip off pieces of tape.

Then I hear the sirens.

I don’t have much longer. Which sucks, because I’ve got more than half the school left to cover. So I screw the tape and just start throwing sheets everywhere like confetti. Which is way faster. I do the science wing and the English hallway. When I slide down the banister of the back staircase, I toss papers over my shoulder.

I’m just about on the first floor when a team of firemen burst through the doors. They’ve got their hard hats on, flashlights beaming, walkie-talkies crackling.

Luckily, I’m right in front of the auditorium. I duck inside and hide myself in the folds of the big American flag. A second later two firemen bound in. I hold my breath and watch their flashlights hit the walls, the ceilings, the stage.

They yell “Clear!” and duck back out into the hall, continuing their search for a fire.

They won’t find one, but Alex is gonna get burned.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

LILLIA

I
DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TIME TO GO TO MY LOCKER AND
get my jacket. The teachers were freaking out, pushing us along through the hallways like the building was really on fire. It’s super-bright outside, but it’s freezing, especially for this early in September. I’m shivering, huddled close to Ashlin, who puts her arm around me.

PJ says, “You want my jacket, Cho?”

I nod. “Yes, please!” PJ shrugs it off and hands it over. I put it on, and Ashlin zips me up, hopping from foot to foot. It smells as mildewy as PJ’s basement, but it’s better than nothing.

“Do you think there’s a real fire?” she asks me hopefully. “Maybe we won’t have enough time left for the quiz.”

We had a fire drill last week. This doesn’t feel like a drill. The teachers didn’t seem to know anything about it. I wonder . . . could this be Kat’s doing? She said she’d get those posters up, but even for her this is gutsy.

“Maybe,” I say as the volunteer fire truck comes barreling into the parking lot. Some of the freshmen start clapping and chanting “Let it burn! Let it burn!”

So juvenile.

We’re in the parking lot for another half hour while the firemen check out the building. I can’t feel my toes. The firemen finally come out and give the all clear, and the teachers start ushering us back inside.

I’m walking down the senior hallway when I see them. Our posters, with Alex’s smiling face and his poem right next to it—on lockers, on walls. They’re
everywhere
.

Alex has seen them too. He’s stopped short in front of a whole cluster of them on a set of lockers. Slowly he says, “What the . . .”

Reeve tears a sheet down and starts reading it out loud, doubling over with laughter.
“Winter stars fall so I keep wishing. . . . I love the way you look in sweaters. Can we Eskimo kiss all night long? ’Cause your red ribbon has me tied up in knots!”

That doesn’t sound like the poem Kat was reading in the car. “The Longest Hallway” one.

I take down a sheet and read it over.

Wait.

Red ribbon?

*    *    *

It was Christmastime, my freshman year.
My whole family was at Alex Lind’s house for their annual holiday party. Since we’d moved to the island full-time, Alex’s mom and my mom had gotten to be pretty good friends. They went to lunch together, shopping off island, that kind of thing.

The parents were downstairs drinking and talking and mingling by the fireplace. Elvis Presley was playing on the stereo, and us kids could hear it upstairs in Alex’s room. This was before he moved into the pool house. He used to have the whole third floor to himself. It was basically one big rec room, with beanbag chairs and a foosball table and a dartboard. For the party Alex’s mom had set up a table of kid food, things like chicken fingers and popcorn shrimp and mini pizzas, probably so we wouldn’t come downstairs and bother them.

The little kids, my sister included, were fighting over who got to play darts next. Nadia nearly got into a scuffle with an eight-year-old boy, a cousin of Alex’s, I think, and I had to break it up. Since Alex and I were the oldest, we were in charge. I hadn’t even wanted to come, since Rennie wasn’t going to be there, but my mom had insisted we go as a family.

Alex put in a DVD for the kids, and they quieted down for the most part. I was sitting at Alex’s desk, doing stuff on his computer and eating a Christmas cookie. It was a reindeer with a Red Hot candy for a nose. Alex was lying in his hammock a few feet away, strumming on a guitar. He wasn’t too bad at it. Out of nowhere he said, “Hey, cool headband.”

I looked up, startled. “Oh, thanks,” I said, touching the crown of my head. “It’s actually a ribbon.” My mom had wanted me to wear a dress, but I would have felt dumb showing up at Alex Lind’s house dressed up. So I wore a kelly green sweater and a tartan skirt, plus the red ribbon, for a festive touch.

“Cool,” he said, looking back down at his guitar. “You look nice in red. Like, uh, that shirt you wear sometimes.”

“What shirt?”

“I don’t remember.” His freckly face turned the same color as his hair. He kept strumming the guitar. “I think you had it on last Monday or something?”

The only red I wore on Monday was during gym. “That was my PE uniform from my old school,” I told Alex.

“Nice,” he said. Now his face was as red as my ribbon. “Yeah, we don’t wear uniforms here.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said.

It was awkward for another second or two. Then Alex got up and went to the bathroom and I went back to the computer.

*    *    *

Oh my God.

That Christmas party was freshman year. He remembered? All this time? That can’t be.

I look at him, and he’s looking at me. He drops his eyes right away. So it
is
about me.

Next to me Ashlin covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my gosh,” she says, giggling. “I had no idea Alex was a poet!”

I feel dizzy.

“Who did this?” Alex demands. He’s all flushed; he’s definitely upset.

Reeve is practically falling on the ground, he’s laughing so hard. “Bro, this is that song you’ve been working on, isn’t it? Come on. Don’t be ashamed. This is good stuff. You’ve got talent.”

“Shut up, Reeve.” We watch as Alex starts taking down the posters. I wonder how Kat managed to get them up so high.

“Alex, man, can we Eskimo kiss all night long?” Reeve asks, sputtering into laughter again and throwing an arm around him.

Alex shoves him away. “Did you do this?”

Shaking his head, Reeve says, “No way! I swear on your red ribbon!”

Alex tears the rest of the posters down and stalks off in a huff, throwing them into the garbage on the way.

Reeve starts singing the poem, and everyone’s laughing. I walk up to him and snatch the poster out of his hand. “You’re such a jerk,” I say loudly. To Ashlin I say, “Let’s go back to class.”

Ashlin and I are walking away as Reeve calls out to me, “You need to work on your sense of humor, Cho.”

I don’t turn around. I just keep walking. Ashlin’s talking about Alex’s poem or song or whatever it is, but I’m barely even paying attention. I can’t stop thinking about the look on Alex’s face when our eyes met. Does he really like me that much? But if that’s true, what is he doing with my sister? It just doesn’t make sense.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MARY

I
FEEL LIKE
I’
M A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT GIRL
. W
HEN
I see Reeve in the hallway, I don’t go out of my way to avoid him. I just walk right by with my head held high, because I don’t care if he notices me or not. Even if he did suddenly recognize me the way I wanted him to that first day of school, make a big deal over how different I look now, it wouldn’t make any difference. Even if he apologized, he’s still going to get his. The wheels are already in motion.

I’ve held myself back for way too long. I’m not going to do that anymore. So when I walk down the hallway, I make sure to smile at the people I don’t know. In bio class, when James Turnshek turns the Bunsen burner up too high and makes the beaker shatter, I laugh along with everyone else. I don’t even care that we’ll have to start over on the lab.

Near the end of the day, I pass Lillia in the hallway. I’m on my way to math, and she’s at the water fountain, holding her long black hair back with one hand, leaning into the stream of water. I would keep walking, but she does something when she sees me looking at her. She makes her eyes go real big, double the size they usually are, and jerks her head just slightly, like she wants me to walk over.

I try not to be too obvious when I stop and double back. Hugging my books to my chest, I meander over and pretend to look at some student council announcement taped up to the wall.

As soon as I’m next to her, Lillia lets go of her hair. It falls and covers her face, and a few of the ends get wet in the basin of the water fountain. I guess she does it so no one can see her talking to me. She whispers, “Meet after school at the pool, okay, Mary?” in a voice so quiet, I have to strain to hear it.

I nod, and then we head off in opposite directions.

*    *    *

The swimming pool is in a separate building, and right now it’s closed for repairs. They’re doing work on it for the winter, when swim season begins. The door is wedged open, so I slip inside.

I’m the last one here. Lillia and Kat are sitting together on top of the lifeguard chair. They’re both leaning in to look at something on Kat’s cell phone. Lillia’s twirling a lollipop around in her mouth. Kat’s picking the shredded parts of her jeans.

“Hey,” I say. “What are you guys looking at?”

Lillia jumps down from the perch, and her pleated skirt lifts up just the littlest bit. She shifts the lollipop so the white stick juts out of the corner of her mouth. “Kat took a video of some people singing Alex’s song in the cafeteria today.”

Kat jumps down next, and her boots make a slapping sound on the concrete deck. She holds her phone up for me to look. “These kids were doing it like a rap. But I heard other people singing it like a jazzy number, heavy metal style—”