My body goes cold. Kat and Mary were one thousand percent right. Reeve’s not a trustworthy guy, not at all. I’m so mad at myself for falling for it when I know better.
Reeve doesn’t see me coming. He’s fiddling with his radio. I can hear the music as I get closer. It’s hip hop, the volume turned way up. And he’s drumming his hands on the steering wheel. Whoever he’s off to see, he’s sure pumped.
I knock so hard on the glass my knuckles hurt. Reeve startles, and when he sees that it’s me, his jaw drops. He fumbles to turn the radio off and then tries to get his window to roll down.
“Hey, there,” I say, all fake sweet. “So nice to see that your leg’s better.” I drop the act, let my smile go flat. “Don’t bother texting me later. Or any other day.” I walk away.
I hear his truck door open and then slam shut, his feet pounding the pavement. I’m speed walking as fast as I can, but Reeve must be sprinting, even with his bum leg. I let my laptop bag fall on the ground; I don’t even care. I don’t want to look at him.
Before I know it, Reeve wraps his arms around me from behind.
“Let me go!” I try and break out of his bear hug, but his hands are locked around me.
“Lillia, wait a second!”
I don’t wait. I struggle and wriggle to get free until I have no strength left. “Let go of me!” I shriek.
Some of the people in the parking lot have stopped to watch us. “You’re making a scene!” he hisses. He’s right. I don’t want the cops to come; I just want him to let go of me. The only way he’ll do that is if I stop.
“Please, Lillia.” I go limp and he drops his arms.
I’m panting as I turn around to face him. “Care to explain why you lied to me?”
Reeve sets his jaw. “No. Not particularly.” He walks back a few steps and picks up my laptop bag.
I feel something mean bubble up in my throat. The overwhelming urge to tell Reeve everything, how I’ve been only hanging out with him to hurt him for Mary. How it’s all a lie. I’ve been pretending to like him, when in actuality he disgusts me.
But I can’t, because those words won’t mean anything. They won’t hurt him. Because if Reeve did care, he wouldn’t have lied to me so he could sneak off to see some other girl.
“Tell me where you’re going.” I know I sound jealous. And I hate it.
He hands my laptop bag back to me. “It’s better if I don’t.” I snatch it from his hands and hear the bits of broken plastic shake around. It’s broken.
I feel the sting of tears, and my vision blurs. “I hope this other girl knows a thing or two about the SATs. Or else maybe she doesn’t care that you won’t get into college!” I think of all the time I’ve wasted, trying to help Reeve. I should have stuck to the damn plan. I bet I could have kissed him weeks ago.
Reeve’s face goes blank. “You think I’m going to see another girl?”
I walk away.
He’s following me again. He speeds up so that he’s standing in my way. “Fine, you want to know where I’m going?” He fishes something out of his pocket. A piece of paper. He hands it to me.
I wipe my eyes so I can read it. There are two names written down, and neither of them are girls’ names. And an address for a fraternity house at UMass.
I look up at him, because it doesn’t make sense.
His mouth is set in a grim line. “I’m going to whoop those f**kers’ asses.” And then he starts walking back toward his truck.
It takes me a second to put it together. “Oh my God,” I say, staring down at the paper. At the names. Ian Rosenberg and Michael Fenelli. “Oh my God.”
And then it’s me who’s chasing him. “Are you crazy?” I scream.
Reeve doesn’t slow down. “I’m an idiot for not thinking of it sooner. That house those turkeys rented, it was one of the ones my dad manages. All I had to do was look up the address, and boom. I found their addresses, their phone numbers, their birthdays. I’m going up there, and I’m going to make them wish they never, ever laid eyes on you and Rennie.”
“I don’t want you to do that!” The ferry horn sounds and the cars waiting to drive aboard start their engines. “I don’t want you going anywhere near them!”
Reeve opens his door. “Why?” he demands. “You don’t think they deserve it?”
I struggle to answer him. Because as much as it was the guys, it was my fault too. I was the one who went to a stranger’s house. I was the one who got too drunk. I was the one who created the situation where something terrible could happen. And I was unlucky enough that it did.
“It won’t change anything!” I reach out and grab hold of his sweatshirt. Two fistfuls. “I am telling you don’t go there. If this is for me, I don’t want it.”
Reeve’s already shaking his head. He’s not listening to me. “Those guys have to pay for what they did. There have to be consequences. They can’t just get away with it.”
It’s hard to breathe now. “I know want to help. I know that. But nothing you do can take back what happened.” I’m trying to stay strong so I can make him hear me, but I can feel myself start to shake. “You going over there, it will only bring everything back for me. All I want to do is forget.”
I see him soften a little. “You can’t bury it, Lil. It happened. You have to deal with it.”
“I know. But let me do it my way. Not like this.” I look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please.”
We’re staring at each other, neither of us blinking, and Reeve finally bows his head and nods. “I just—I wanted to make things right for you.” He reaches out and takes my hand and locks his fingers around mine. I let him do it, even though I feel like I shouldn’t.
Later, when I think about the look in Reeve’s eyes, and I remember what he said about how there should be consequences for the bad things people do, I feel dread, because I know he’s right. There will be consequences, for all of us. Maybe me most of all.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
During Monday’s free period, I head to the computer lab to check e-mail. I have to wait until I’m at school to do it, because our computer at home is slow as shit. It’s old to begin with, and then Pat downloaded a bunch of games, aka p**n , and now the thing’s got more viruses than a prostitute.
Reeve doesn’t see me coming. He’s fiddling with his radio. I can hear the music as I get closer. It’s hip hop, the volume turned way up. And he’s drumming his hands on the steering wheel. Whoever he’s off to see, he’s sure pumped.
I knock so hard on the glass my knuckles hurt. Reeve startles, and when he sees that it’s me, his jaw drops. He fumbles to turn the radio off and then tries to get his window to roll down.
“Hey, there,” I say, all fake sweet. “So nice to see that your leg’s better.” I drop the act, let my smile go flat. “Don’t bother texting me later. Or any other day.” I walk away.
I hear his truck door open and then slam shut, his feet pounding the pavement. I’m speed walking as fast as I can, but Reeve must be sprinting, even with his bum leg. I let my laptop bag fall on the ground; I don’t even care. I don’t want to look at him.
Before I know it, Reeve wraps his arms around me from behind.
“Let me go!” I try and break out of his bear hug, but his hands are locked around me.
“Lillia, wait a second!”
I don’t wait. I struggle and wriggle to get free until I have no strength left. “Let go of me!” I shriek.
Some of the people in the parking lot have stopped to watch us. “You’re making a scene!” he hisses. He’s right. I don’t want the cops to come; I just want him to let go of me. The only way he’ll do that is if I stop.
“Please, Lillia.” I go limp and he drops his arms.
I’m panting as I turn around to face him. “Care to explain why you lied to me?”
Reeve sets his jaw. “No. Not particularly.” He walks back a few steps and picks up my laptop bag.
I feel something mean bubble up in my throat. The overwhelming urge to tell Reeve everything, how I’ve been only hanging out with him to hurt him for Mary. How it’s all a lie. I’ve been pretending to like him, when in actuality he disgusts me.
But I can’t, because those words won’t mean anything. They won’t hurt him. Because if Reeve did care, he wouldn’t have lied to me so he could sneak off to see some other girl.
“Tell me where you’re going.” I know I sound jealous. And I hate it.
He hands my laptop bag back to me. “It’s better if I don’t.” I snatch it from his hands and hear the bits of broken plastic shake around. It’s broken.
I feel the sting of tears, and my vision blurs. “I hope this other girl knows a thing or two about the SATs. Or else maybe she doesn’t care that you won’t get into college!” I think of all the time I’ve wasted, trying to help Reeve. I should have stuck to the damn plan. I bet I could have kissed him weeks ago.
Reeve’s face goes blank. “You think I’m going to see another girl?”
I walk away.
He’s following me again. He speeds up so that he’s standing in my way. “Fine, you want to know where I’m going?” He fishes something out of his pocket. A piece of paper. He hands it to me.
I wipe my eyes so I can read it. There are two names written down, and neither of them are girls’ names. And an address for a fraternity house at UMass.
I look up at him, because it doesn’t make sense.
His mouth is set in a grim line. “I’m going to whoop those f**kers’ asses.” And then he starts walking back toward his truck.
It takes me a second to put it together. “Oh my God,” I say, staring down at the paper. At the names. Ian Rosenberg and Michael Fenelli. “Oh my God.”
And then it’s me who’s chasing him. “Are you crazy?” I scream.
Reeve doesn’t slow down. “I’m an idiot for not thinking of it sooner. That house those turkeys rented, it was one of the ones my dad manages. All I had to do was look up the address, and boom. I found their addresses, their phone numbers, their birthdays. I’m going up there, and I’m going to make them wish they never, ever laid eyes on you and Rennie.”
“I don’t want you to do that!” The ferry horn sounds and the cars waiting to drive aboard start their engines. “I don’t want you going anywhere near them!”
Reeve opens his door. “Why?” he demands. “You don’t think they deserve it?”
I struggle to answer him. Because as much as it was the guys, it was my fault too. I was the one who went to a stranger’s house. I was the one who got too drunk. I was the one who created the situation where something terrible could happen. And I was unlucky enough that it did.
“It won’t change anything!” I reach out and grab hold of his sweatshirt. Two fistfuls. “I am telling you don’t go there. If this is for me, I don’t want it.”
Reeve’s already shaking his head. He’s not listening to me. “Those guys have to pay for what they did. There have to be consequences. They can’t just get away with it.”
It’s hard to breathe now. “I know want to help. I know that. But nothing you do can take back what happened.” I’m trying to stay strong so I can make him hear me, but I can feel myself start to shake. “You going over there, it will only bring everything back for me. All I want to do is forget.”
I see him soften a little. “You can’t bury it, Lil. It happened. You have to deal with it.”
“I know. But let me do it my way. Not like this.” I look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please.”
We’re staring at each other, neither of us blinking, and Reeve finally bows his head and nods. “I just—I wanted to make things right for you.” He reaches out and takes my hand and locks his fingers around mine. I let him do it, even though I feel like I shouldn’t.
Later, when I think about the look in Reeve’s eyes, and I remember what he said about how there should be consequences for the bad things people do, I feel dread, because I know he’s right. There will be consequences, for all of us. Maybe me most of all.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
During Monday’s free period, I head to the computer lab to check e-mail. I have to wait until I’m at school to do it, because our computer at home is slow as shit. It’s old to begin with, and then Pat downloaded a bunch of games, aka p**n , and now the thing’s got more viruses than a prostitute.
