Shooting Stars (19 page)

“Only two people left!” Brad’s voice rings out through the woods.

On hearing Brad, we both pull back from each other.

I gulp. “So, what’s the plan? I shoot you? You shoot me?” We stay here forever and kiss every so often? (I’ll take what’s behind door number three.)

Jake grins. “Neither. I’ve got a better idea.”

★ ★ ★

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“Okay, ready?” Jake looks at me from the opposite end of the structure we’re still hidden behind, or at least I think he looks at me from behind his mask. He looks in my direction, anyway.

I nod back at him.

“One . . . two, . . . three.”

On the count of three, we both jump up from our opposite ends and let each other have it. We empty about half our cartridges onto each other’s front, then I jump around and Jake empties his other half onto my back, and then I do the same to him when he’s fi nished V-Balling me.

When we’re both fi nished, Jake takes a step in, grabs my hand and lifts it high in the air in a “We are the V-balling champions” salute.

That done, we both check each other out and laugh.

Jake’s front and back are completely covered in sticky little pink balls, while I’m covered in yellow ones. It’s an interesting look.

Michael waves us in and we make our way over to the other side of the clearing, where the group is waiting. I’m sad to leave the game behind. For just a few minutes, I’d managed to forget everything else that’s going on. For that time, Jake and I were nothing more than a guy and a girl. As I stroll back over to the group, I let myself wonder for a moment or two whether that’s what life’s like on the outside. Where normal people have normal relationships. I can’t remember.

Michael gives us a debriefi ng and talks about the next 175

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game we’ll be playing as everyone helps pick balls off Jake and me and we reload our cartridges. When I’m fi nally done, Katrina yanks me over to one side.

“What were you doing back there?” she whispers.

“Huh?”

“You and Ned. What were you doing? You were behind that blow- up for ever.”

“No we weren’t,” I say quickly.

“Yes you were! What were you doing?”

I pause for only a second. “Strategizing? It really wasn’t that long, Katrina. What did you think we were doing?” She gives me a funny look. As, I’ve already noticed, is Brad, and he has been ever since Jake and I rejoined the group.

But it’s true, what I’ve just told Katrina. The time Jake and I spent behind that blow- up? It wasn’t that long. Unfortunately, however, it was just long enough for me to feel terrible for Ned all over again. Just long enough to realize I’m not going to be taking any shots this morning, either. And just long enough to know that my whole plan to ignore Jake was something that was never going to happen in this lifetime.

★ ★ ★

I check my watch around fi ve million times as the rest of the day slowly passes by. Eight hours and twenty- fi ve minutes till I get to IM Mannie. Seven hours and forty- two minutes till I get to IM Mannie. Seven hours and forty- one minutes and fi fty- three seconds till I get to IM Mannie.

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Not that I’m counting or anything.

“So, family phone call night to night.” Katrina places her knife and fork together, having fi nished her lunch at exactly seven hours and twenty- eight minutes till I get to IM Mannie and hopefully get some perspective on this whole situation.

“Who are you calling, Ned?” she asks, and looks across the table at him.

Jake shrugs, his mouth full of (you guessed it) bacon bits. I guess he wasn’t serious about slowing down on those things. It takes him a second or two to swallow. “My dad, I guess. No one exciting, that’s for sure. You?” Katrina grins. “I’m in luck. I’ll probably get one of my sisters. I think my mom and dad are out at a fund- raiser to night.

If it’s Sara, we’ll talk about her boyfriend, because that’s all Sara talks about. If it’s Emily, we’ll talk about swimming, because that’s all Emily talks about. Either is fi ne by me, because I won’t have to talk about me, or ballet, or me and ballet, or even ballet and me for one boring second. What about you, Jo?”

“My cousin Wendy, probably. Just to check in.” Funnily enough, I forget to add that I’ll also be putting in a call to the boss from hell.

Until that time, however, I have another kind of hell to contend with and here he comes now. “Seth,” I say. A hush falls over our table as he approaches.

“It’s time,” he tells me.

★ ★ ★

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I abandon the rest of my salad, push back my chair, and make my way out of the cafeteria with Seth by my side.

“You’re really looking forward to this, aren’t you?” I give him a quick, sideways glance as we walk. What a freak.

He shrugs slightly. “I’ve got quite a chunk of change riding on this.”

I stop in my tracks. “Are you serious? Is that what this is about? Money?”

“Oh, come on, Jo. It’s not just about that. You can’t expect to just come to a place like this and get away with being “confused,” while everyone else spills their guts. Can you?” Seth doesn’t stop alongside me, but continues walking up the corridor that leads to Brad’s offi ce.

I watch him go but don’t answer him. Because the truth is, that’s exactly what I’d been hoping to do. And now I’ve been called on it.

★ ★ ★

“Jo, Seth.” Brad opens his door for us after Seth knocks on it eagerly. “Good to see you. Come in.”

“After you,” Seth motions to me.

“You really can’t wait, can you?” I roll my eyes as I pass by.

I’m hoping this will be a nice, friendly chat about being “respectful” in group. Maybe even a nice, friendly, quick chat about being “respectful” in group, and then off for some free time.

“Take a seat.” Brad goes to sit behind his desk and Seth and I take the two chairs on the opposite side. When he’s 178

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settled in his seat, Brad clasps his hands together and watches us, a half smile on his face. I think it’s supposed to be a kindly smile, but it somehow only reminds me of the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood. Really, he wants to tear us to shreds and see what’s making us tick.

“So, you wanted to see us both?” I begin. May as well get this over and done with. The faster the better.

“Yes, I did,” Brad says. “That was a very interesting discussion we had going on in group today, don’t you think?”

“You mean the discussion about nuclear families or the interrogation Seth gave me afterward?” I try a half smile on for size.

“Interrogation?” Seth laughs at my choice of words.

“Hardly.”

“Oh, it gets worse? Will you pull out the red- hot pokers tomorrow, or is water torture more your thing?” Brad waits to intervene until after

we’ve both fi nished

bickering. “I should say I wasn’t completely comfortable with the tone we had going on in group today, but I do see Seth’s point, Jo.”

“Remind me what it was again?” I say, stalling, knowing full well what Seth’s been getting at.

“Seth’s point was that you can’t expect to get much out of group without being willing to fully participate. It’s unfair to the others and it’s unfair to you, too.” Hmmm. I don’t exactly see how it’s unfair to me, considering I’m getting to keep my mouth closed like I want to, but 179

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I decide to let this one go, rather than argue the point.

“Okay,” I agree, just to keep the peace. “I’ll think about that.

Maybe I’ll be able to share a bit more tomorrow.” That is, after I’ve had time to make something up that everyone will believe and that I can live with.

“That’s great, Jo.” Brad beams. “I’ll look forward to that.”

“Me, too,” I tell him, lying wholeheartedly. “So, is that all?” I ask him.

“I think we’ve covered everything nicely,” he tells me. “I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page. Seth? Do you have anything to add?”

But when I turn my head to look at Seth, I see that he doesn’t seem to think

we’ve covered everything nicely or

that we’re on the same page at all. He does, however, look like he might have a lot of things to add.

“That’s it?” Seth glances from Brad to me, a look of incredulity plastered all over his face. “That’s it? You’re going to let her get away with this?” He sits forward in his seat, edging closer to Brad’s desk.

“Now, Seth.” Brad straightens in his chair.

I laugh a fake laugh. “What did you expect, Seth? That I was going to come in here and open up to you? Why should I? It’s not like you give a damn about me. It’s not like you’re asking because you care— you’re asking because you’ve got a pool going on what ever my issues are!”

“Seth.” Brad’s eyes darken as they home in on him. “Is that true?”

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“No,” Seth barks.

Pffft, is my only response. What a liar.

Seth swivels in his seat to face me, looking angrier than I’ve ever seen him look before (which is saying something).

“Do you know how annoying it is to have to sit there in group, or go to activities like the circus skills thing, with someone who isn’t willing to put it all out there?” I stare at his face, watching it get redder by the second.

“It’s pretty unbearable to have everyone else share their innermost thoughts and embarrass themselves with, you know, emotion and snot bubbles and stuff, while you listen in and then make some throwaway comment or say nothing at all.”

I’d love to pick up on the snot bubble but feel it would be unnecessarily cruel. “What’s your issue with me?” I shake my head at him. “Why don’t you pick on Hoodie Boy? He never says anything!”

“You mean Ethan,” Brad says, and both Seth and I turn to look at him for a second, not sure what he’s talking about. Then I realize that Hoodie Boy has a name. Well, there you go.

“Sure, him. Ethan.” I turn back again and Seth does the same.

But Seth just rolls his eyes at the mention of Ethan.

“Well, duh. Hoodie Boy’s problem is not talking. Pretty obvious, that one.”

“You mean Ethan,” Brad pipes up again.

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Seth and I both ignore him this time.

I sigh. “So what? I’m annoying. Well, deal with it, Seth.

Lots of people on this earth are annoying. But the truth is, I don’t owe you anything. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. You’re just some random guy at some random place to me. I don’t want to know you. I don’t want to know about your problems. And I don’t want you to know about mine, either.” I wish I had brought up the snot bubble now.

“Aha!” Seth points a fi nger at me. “So you admit there is a problem?”

I don’t know what it is about this small statement, but it makes something inside me snap. I stand up, furious now.

I notice my hands are shaking slightly, which for me is a scary thing. My hands never shake. Ever. I’d been about to simply stomp out of the room, but seeing my hands quiver makes me even angrier, if that’s possible. At myself, mostly, for letting Seth and this place get to me. I should have been more professional and taken the shots I needed and gotten out in twenty- four hours tops. I should have known better. I shouldn’t have gotten involved. And now I’m paying for it by caring about Jake and by having to play games with idiots like Seth.

“You don’t get it, do you?” I forcefully push my chair away. “Of course there’s a problem. There’s always a problem. Your brother died, Seth. That’s a terrible thing and I’m not lying when I say I’m truly sorry that it happened to him, to you, and to your family. But you know something?

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Everyone here’s got a dead brother in one way or another.

We’ve all got a career that’s not going to happen, like Katrina, or an overbearing father, like Ned, or can’t talk to people, like Ethan, or—” I stop myself here, before I regret saying anything more. I already regret enough of what I’ve let spill from my mouth. “Anyway, we’re all the same. Just in different ways.”

Before I can dig myself in further, I make for the door. I grasp the handle and pull it open fi rmly, almost knocking myself out in the pro cess. I’m halfway through the doorway when Brad’s words ring out, making me pause.

“And what have you got, Jo?”

I swivel around.

“I’ve got a mother who committed suicide right after she had me.” I look Seth straight in the eye. “Hope you guessed right on that one.”

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16

I run down the hall toward room 20, not stopping when I pass a bunch of people, one of whom calls out my name.

I’m praying Katrina isn’t in our room, and when I get back there, I’m lucky— she’s not. I slam the door shut behind me and go straight over to my backpack, where I fi sh out my fauxPod from the secret compartment I’ve made for it in the lining. Then I stand there, still and silent, and stare at it. At this stupid, useless device that’s gotten me into this mess.

And I want to slam it into the fl oor. I want to slam it so hard it will never take another fauxShot, ever.