Go f**k yourself. That’s what I came back here for?
That’s what I deserve, after everything?
After a few minutes of sobbing, I hear Lillia’s voice. At first I
think she’s calling out for me. But then I realize she’s screaming at Reeve. I stay low and use the car for cover, peering through the windows. I end up spotting them a few rows away. Lillia and Reeve, toe-to-toe. I can’t hear what she’s saying, so I stay crouched down and scurry from car to car, trying to get closer to them.
“You know what? I’m glad you broke your stupid leg. I’m glad you can’t play football and that no college wants you on their team anymore. You deserve everything you’re getting, because you’re a bad person.”
Oh, Lillia. You are a true friend.
She walks away from Reeve. I watch closely for his reaction. To see what kind of jerky thing he’ll yell after Lillia. He doesn’t do anything. He just stands there, watching her go. And most shockingly of all, he wipes his eyes on his sleeves. It’s another punch to the gut. Reeve couldn’t care less about
seeing me and the nasty thing he said; he didn’t even care enough to apologize. But Lillia Cho calls him a bad person and he’s in tears.
Reeve likes her.
He might even be in love with her. I hate that I’m jealous, but I am. I really, really am. It’s sick. I’m sick.
I want to go home but I can’t. Not when I’m upset like this. Not after how weird Aunt Bette was acting earlier. I can’t bear to hear her say, I told you so, Mary. Not when I still feel like I could explode at any second. I stand up, wipe the dirt from myself, and head straight into the woods.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The boys are throwing around a football, using the tombstones as markers. Someone put on Michael Jackson’s “Thriller,” and Rennie and Ash and some other girls are putting on a show, doing the zombie dance. A few weeks ago I would have been front and center, right by Rennie’s side. Now it’s me alone on a blanket sipping Ash’s “witch’s brew”—basically rum punch with cinnamon sticks and oranges and cider. It’s so sweet; I’ve been drinking it like it’s Kool-Aid. That, and I have nothing else to do but drink.
Reeve’s sprawled out in the center of the other blanket, his legs stretched in front of him. He’s surrounded by junior girls in slutty costumes. Slutty cavegirl, slutty mouse, slutty Pocahontas. They’re practically feeding him grapes. I can’t believe I ever in a million years felt bad for him. He’s horrible, a monster. For him to talk to Mary that way, after all he’s done to her . . . it makes me want to puke. I’m glad I said something to him in the parking lot. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind.
The song changes, and Rennie comes running up to Reeve, making room for herself on the blanket and edging the other girls out. “Do you need anything?” she asks. “We have snacks and stuff.”
“Is there any beer?” he asks. Rennie’s head bobs up and down and she scampers over to the cooler. Ugh. It makes me sick to see her wait on him hand and foot. Puke puke puke.
She brings him a beer and he looks at it and goes, “Is there no Bud Light?”
“‘Is there no Bud Light?’” I mimic to myself. I call out, “Reeve, how about you get your lazy butt off the ground and go look for yourself? Last I checked, you’re not a paraplegic! It’s a broken left fibula!”
Reeve whips his head around and throws me the meanest look ever. Like I care. “Shut your mouth, Cho,” he says warningly.
I’m about to take a sip of my witch’s brew, but before I do, I say back, “No, you shut yours.” He thinks he can push around whoever he wants. Well, he’s not pushing me around. He should know that by now.
Suddenly Alex plops down next to me, breathing hard from running around. “Did you see that play?” he asks me, blocking Reeve from my view. “I almost made it all the way down to the end zone. Beat three guys with my spin moves before I got tackled.”
I sigh. Sweet, dear Alex. Alex who made sure there were enough cupcakes for the little kids, and he never ever did anything to hurt me. He shows up for me every time. Sighing again, I let my head droop onto his shoulder. “You are so nice,” I whisper.
“Are you drunk?” Alex asks me, a little amused and a little concerned and mostly surprised.
“Yes. No. Okay, yes.”
“You never drink,” he says.
“I did,” I say, sitting up and looking at him. It takes a couple of seconds for him to come into focus. “One time I did and it was the worst, worst mistake of my life. Sometimes I think . . . sometimes I think I’ll never be the same.” My eyes keep closing on their own. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have said that. My eyes are sleepy.”
Alex takes the thermos out of my hands and puts my head back on his shoulder. “Are you cold?”
I shake my head. I’m not. The punch is very warmth inducing. Plus I put an off-the-shoulder sweatshirt over my leotard. It’s still ballerina-ish, though, like I got back from rehearsal.
“Warmth inducing?” Alex says.
I clap my hand over my mouth. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Yeah,” he says, laughing. I tilt my head up and look at his face. His eyes are so nice.
“So nice,” I say, touching his glasses.
“Thanks,” he says solemnly.
I shiver, and Alex shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. “Feel free to lean against me,” he says. So I do. I let my weight fall against him, so relaxed. Boneless, almost. He puts his arms around me, and I feel safe, like the safest I’ve ever felt. It’s the exact opposite of that bad time.
We watch as PJ kicks the football high into the air. “Field goal!” he crows.
Derek goes, “No, dude, the end zone is the Zane plot.” He points to a collection of moss-covered white stone crosses, dead center in the cemetery.
The Zanes. That must be Mary’s family. I didn’t realize they were old-school Jar Islanders.
They argue back and forth, and I say to Alex, “I can’t believe that next Friday’s the last football game. Are you upset you guys aren’t going to playoffs?”
“No way. The season could’ve been over when Reeve got hurt, but we turned it around. I’m proud of what we pulled off. And you know what, it’s awesome Lee got to play so much this season. He’s really come into his own. I bet you next year the Gulls make it all the way to state.”
That’s what I deserve, after everything?
After a few minutes of sobbing, I hear Lillia’s voice. At first I
think she’s calling out for me. But then I realize she’s screaming at Reeve. I stay low and use the car for cover, peering through the windows. I end up spotting them a few rows away. Lillia and Reeve, toe-to-toe. I can’t hear what she’s saying, so I stay crouched down and scurry from car to car, trying to get closer to them.
“You know what? I’m glad you broke your stupid leg. I’m glad you can’t play football and that no college wants you on their team anymore. You deserve everything you’re getting, because you’re a bad person.”
Oh, Lillia. You are a true friend.
She walks away from Reeve. I watch closely for his reaction. To see what kind of jerky thing he’ll yell after Lillia. He doesn’t do anything. He just stands there, watching her go. And most shockingly of all, he wipes his eyes on his sleeves. It’s another punch to the gut. Reeve couldn’t care less about
seeing me and the nasty thing he said; he didn’t even care enough to apologize. But Lillia Cho calls him a bad person and he’s in tears.
Reeve likes her.
He might even be in love with her. I hate that I’m jealous, but I am. I really, really am. It’s sick. I’m sick.
I want to go home but I can’t. Not when I’m upset like this. Not after how weird Aunt Bette was acting earlier. I can’t bear to hear her say, I told you so, Mary. Not when I still feel like I could explode at any second. I stand up, wipe the dirt from myself, and head straight into the woods.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The boys are throwing around a football, using the tombstones as markers. Someone put on Michael Jackson’s “Thriller,” and Rennie and Ash and some other girls are putting on a show, doing the zombie dance. A few weeks ago I would have been front and center, right by Rennie’s side. Now it’s me alone on a blanket sipping Ash’s “witch’s brew”—basically rum punch with cinnamon sticks and oranges and cider. It’s so sweet; I’ve been drinking it like it’s Kool-Aid. That, and I have nothing else to do but drink.
Reeve’s sprawled out in the center of the other blanket, his legs stretched in front of him. He’s surrounded by junior girls in slutty costumes. Slutty cavegirl, slutty mouse, slutty Pocahontas. They’re practically feeding him grapes. I can’t believe I ever in a million years felt bad for him. He’s horrible, a monster. For him to talk to Mary that way, after all he’s done to her . . . it makes me want to puke. I’m glad I said something to him in the parking lot. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind.
The song changes, and Rennie comes running up to Reeve, making room for herself on the blanket and edging the other girls out. “Do you need anything?” she asks. “We have snacks and stuff.”
“Is there any beer?” he asks. Rennie’s head bobs up and down and she scampers over to the cooler. Ugh. It makes me sick to see her wait on him hand and foot. Puke puke puke.
She brings him a beer and he looks at it and goes, “Is there no Bud Light?”
“‘Is there no Bud Light?’” I mimic to myself. I call out, “Reeve, how about you get your lazy butt off the ground and go look for yourself? Last I checked, you’re not a paraplegic! It’s a broken left fibula!”
Reeve whips his head around and throws me the meanest look ever. Like I care. “Shut your mouth, Cho,” he says warningly.
I’m about to take a sip of my witch’s brew, but before I do, I say back, “No, you shut yours.” He thinks he can push around whoever he wants. Well, he’s not pushing me around. He should know that by now.
Suddenly Alex plops down next to me, breathing hard from running around. “Did you see that play?” he asks me, blocking Reeve from my view. “I almost made it all the way down to the end zone. Beat three guys with my spin moves before I got tackled.”
I sigh. Sweet, dear Alex. Alex who made sure there were enough cupcakes for the little kids, and he never ever did anything to hurt me. He shows up for me every time. Sighing again, I let my head droop onto his shoulder. “You are so nice,” I whisper.
“Are you drunk?” Alex asks me, a little amused and a little concerned and mostly surprised.
“Yes. No. Okay, yes.”
“You never drink,” he says.
“I did,” I say, sitting up and looking at him. It takes a couple of seconds for him to come into focus. “One time I did and it was the worst, worst mistake of my life. Sometimes I think . . . sometimes I think I’ll never be the same.” My eyes keep closing on their own. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have said that. My eyes are sleepy.”
Alex takes the thermos out of my hands and puts my head back on his shoulder. “Are you cold?”
I shake my head. I’m not. The punch is very warmth inducing. Plus I put an off-the-shoulder sweatshirt over my leotard. It’s still ballerina-ish, though, like I got back from rehearsal.
“Warmth inducing?” Alex says.
I clap my hand over my mouth. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Yeah,” he says, laughing. I tilt my head up and look at his face. His eyes are so nice.
“So nice,” I say, touching his glasses.
“Thanks,” he says solemnly.
I shiver, and Alex shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. “Feel free to lean against me,” he says. So I do. I let my weight fall against him, so relaxed. Boneless, almost. He puts his arms around me, and I feel safe, like the safest I’ve ever felt. It’s the exact opposite of that bad time.
We watch as PJ kicks the football high into the air. “Field goal!” he crows.
Derek goes, “No, dude, the end zone is the Zane plot.” He points to a collection of moss-covered white stone crosses, dead center in the cemetery.
The Zanes. That must be Mary’s family. I didn’t realize they were old-school Jar Islanders.
They argue back and forth, and I say to Alex, “I can’t believe that next Friday’s the last football game. Are you upset you guys aren’t going to playoffs?”
“No way. The season could’ve been over when Reeve got hurt, but we turned it around. I’m proud of what we pulled off. And you know what, it’s awesome Lee got to play so much this season. He’s really come into his own. I bet you next year the Gulls make it all the way to state.”
