Fire with Fire
Page 40
I want to push him off the bleacher. And then it occurs to me. It’s the second time he’s told me to have fun.
Which is boy speak for “I’m jealous.” Reeve is jealous! Of Alex. Of me and Alex, together.
It’s working. The plan is working!
I pack my bag up and say, “So are we getting pancakes or not?”
“I thought you had to pack,” he challenges.
“I might have time for one pancake,” I say, giving him what I hope are flirty eyes.
Reeve stands up, stretching. “All right. Whatever Princess Lillia wants, she gets.” But I can tell he’s happy, because he puts his hands on my shoulders and gives them a quick squeeze.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Wednesday night, I’m still thinking about what Ms. Chirazo said about my college essay. Maybe I’m being stupid. I should do whatever the hell it takes to take to get into Oberlin and score some good financial aid. Ain’t no way private planes are in my future. And I don’t know why, but no matter how many beers I drink, I can’t stop thinking about Alex and Lillia jetting off together this week.
“Let’s go hot-tubbing!” I suddenly announce to everyone in the garage. “Who’s in?”
Ricky, Skeeter, and a bunch of other guys look my way. “Where?” Ricky says.
I turn off the radio. “I know a place. A mansion. And it’s completely empty tonight.” Seems stupid to let Alex’s house go to waste.
“But it’s kind of cold out,” Skeeter whines.
“That’s why we’re going in a hot tub, dummy.”
“I don’t want to get arrested,” Ricky says.
I walk over to him and pull on the strings of his hoodie. “You won’t. I’m telling you. No one is home. And the kid has no neighbors.”
Ricky shrugs. “Okay. I’m in.”
It’s me, five guys, and one of their girlfriends who bugs the shit out of me so I never bothered learning her name. Pat stays back. He says he wants to keep working on his bike, but I know the truth: He has a thing with hot tubs. They skeeve him out. The heat, the germs, all the bodies cooking together in one big bathtub. I don’t blow up his spot, though, mainly because I don’t want to gross everyone else out.
Which affords me a real opportunity. Tonight, I’m going to let Ricky get what he’s been wanting. The kid’s been flirting with me for weeks. And I could use a good make-out. I don’t even care that I have school tomorrow. I haven’t kissed a boy since . . . Lind.
We put two sixers of beer in a plastic bag, hop on a bunch of bikes, and tear over to Alex’s place. The lights in his house are all on, like someone’s home, but I know it’s empty. I have to drag Ricky up the driveway.
“You sure about this?” he keeps saying.
I crack open a beer and take a sip before offering it to him. I get close to his face and say, “You know it.” I like flirting with Ricky. He’s sweet. He’s two years older than me, a year younger than Pat. We were both at Jar Island High together at some point, but back then he was dating someone else. Sarah? I forget. Anyway, he dumped her this summer, after she cheated on him with her professor at the JICC. That’s the kind of shit that goes on in our community college, which is why I need out of here.
The fence is locked, so we have to climb on top of the trash cans to get over. As soon as we land on the other side, the backyard lights automatically turn on. My heart stops, and I’m just waiting for a siren or something. We all hold still, and then they click off. “See?” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s fine.”
Alex’s pool is closed for the season, half drained and covered with a tight tarp. Oh shit. I take off the cover of Alex’s hot tub, and thank God it’s full of water. It’s a pretty pimped-out model, with buttons that make different colored lights go on and a builtin stereo. We all get in, crank the jets, and it doesn’t take long before it gets toasty. Ricky doesn’t have a bathing suit, so he goes in in his underwear. He’s wearing black boxer briefs, and he looks freaking hot. His body is cut, you can see every ab muscle, and he’s got a wicked scar from when he got his appendix removed.
I’m in my black bikini and a black tank. I push Tim’s girlfriend out of the way so I can sit next to Ricky.
“This place is sick!” one of the guys says.
“Damn, I wish I was loaded,” says Skeeter.
It sort of pisses me off, because most of these dudes will never have money, will never get to experience this side of Jar Island living. Unless they become pool boys. Which some of them might.
Tim asks me, “You know the guy who lives here?”
“Yeah.”
Ricky says, “You ever hook up with him?”
“Hell, no,” I lie, because I know what my friends think about these kinds of people. They aren’t like us. Though it may be racist, or classist, or whatever . . . it’s freaking true. Alex isn’t like me. After all, he’s in a goddamned private plane, going to visit a school where his parents will most likely make a huge donation to get him accepted. I don’t know why he’s even in the college essay class with me. He doesn’t need a good essay when he’s got a blank check. I finish my beer and throw the empty can in the yard, like I don’t give a shit. I get close to Ricky. He puts his arm around me for like a second, but then takes it back.
Um, weird.
I get a stomach cramp. Have I read the signs wrong? Is Ricky not into me? I don’t know if I could take another Alex Lind scenario. A guy who’s only being nice, not actually pursuing me. My ego ain’t indestructible.
I look across the hot tub, at all of my brother’s friends, watching us.
Oh. Okay. That I can work with. He wants to be alone with me.
“Shit,” I say suddenly. Everyone gets real quiet.
“What?” Ricky whispers.
“I think I heard something.” I climb out of the water. Damn, it’s bitter out. My whole body is steaming.
“What? I didn’t hear anything.”
Dummy. I grab Ricky’s arm. “Come investigate with me.”
He gives me this pleading look, then glances over at the rest of the people in the hot tub. But they’re all back to giggling and speaking in whispers. They aren’t paying attention to us at all.
“Hurry up!” I growl. I’m freezing my ass off.
We walk out of the main yard and around to the side of the pool house. It hits me how awesome it will feel to kiss Ricky, basically right in front of Alex’s bedroom. I push him up against the wall and say, “So, you gonna kiss me or what?” But it doesn’t sound as sexy as I want it to, because I’m shivering so damn hard.
Which is boy speak for “I’m jealous.” Reeve is jealous! Of Alex. Of me and Alex, together.
It’s working. The plan is working!
I pack my bag up and say, “So are we getting pancakes or not?”
“I thought you had to pack,” he challenges.
“I might have time for one pancake,” I say, giving him what I hope are flirty eyes.
Reeve stands up, stretching. “All right. Whatever Princess Lillia wants, she gets.” But I can tell he’s happy, because he puts his hands on my shoulders and gives them a quick squeeze.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Wednesday night, I’m still thinking about what Ms. Chirazo said about my college essay. Maybe I’m being stupid. I should do whatever the hell it takes to take to get into Oberlin and score some good financial aid. Ain’t no way private planes are in my future. And I don’t know why, but no matter how many beers I drink, I can’t stop thinking about Alex and Lillia jetting off together this week.
“Let’s go hot-tubbing!” I suddenly announce to everyone in the garage. “Who’s in?”
Ricky, Skeeter, and a bunch of other guys look my way. “Where?” Ricky says.
I turn off the radio. “I know a place. A mansion. And it’s completely empty tonight.” Seems stupid to let Alex’s house go to waste.
“But it’s kind of cold out,” Skeeter whines.
“That’s why we’re going in a hot tub, dummy.”
“I don’t want to get arrested,” Ricky says.
I walk over to him and pull on the strings of his hoodie. “You won’t. I’m telling you. No one is home. And the kid has no neighbors.”
Ricky shrugs. “Okay. I’m in.”
It’s me, five guys, and one of their girlfriends who bugs the shit out of me so I never bothered learning her name. Pat stays back. He says he wants to keep working on his bike, but I know the truth: He has a thing with hot tubs. They skeeve him out. The heat, the germs, all the bodies cooking together in one big bathtub. I don’t blow up his spot, though, mainly because I don’t want to gross everyone else out.
Which affords me a real opportunity. Tonight, I’m going to let Ricky get what he’s been wanting. The kid’s been flirting with me for weeks. And I could use a good make-out. I don’t even care that I have school tomorrow. I haven’t kissed a boy since . . . Lind.
We put two sixers of beer in a plastic bag, hop on a bunch of bikes, and tear over to Alex’s place. The lights in his house are all on, like someone’s home, but I know it’s empty. I have to drag Ricky up the driveway.
“You sure about this?” he keeps saying.
I crack open a beer and take a sip before offering it to him. I get close to his face and say, “You know it.” I like flirting with Ricky. He’s sweet. He’s two years older than me, a year younger than Pat. We were both at Jar Island High together at some point, but back then he was dating someone else. Sarah? I forget. Anyway, he dumped her this summer, after she cheated on him with her professor at the JICC. That’s the kind of shit that goes on in our community college, which is why I need out of here.
The fence is locked, so we have to climb on top of the trash cans to get over. As soon as we land on the other side, the backyard lights automatically turn on. My heart stops, and I’m just waiting for a siren or something. We all hold still, and then they click off. “See?” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s fine.”
Alex’s pool is closed for the season, half drained and covered with a tight tarp. Oh shit. I take off the cover of Alex’s hot tub, and thank God it’s full of water. It’s a pretty pimped-out model, with buttons that make different colored lights go on and a builtin stereo. We all get in, crank the jets, and it doesn’t take long before it gets toasty. Ricky doesn’t have a bathing suit, so he goes in in his underwear. He’s wearing black boxer briefs, and he looks freaking hot. His body is cut, you can see every ab muscle, and he’s got a wicked scar from when he got his appendix removed.
I’m in my black bikini and a black tank. I push Tim’s girlfriend out of the way so I can sit next to Ricky.
“This place is sick!” one of the guys says.
“Damn, I wish I was loaded,” says Skeeter.
It sort of pisses me off, because most of these dudes will never have money, will never get to experience this side of Jar Island living. Unless they become pool boys. Which some of them might.
Tim asks me, “You know the guy who lives here?”
“Yeah.”
Ricky says, “You ever hook up with him?”
“Hell, no,” I lie, because I know what my friends think about these kinds of people. They aren’t like us. Though it may be racist, or classist, or whatever . . . it’s freaking true. Alex isn’t like me. After all, he’s in a goddamned private plane, going to visit a school where his parents will most likely make a huge donation to get him accepted. I don’t know why he’s even in the college essay class with me. He doesn’t need a good essay when he’s got a blank check. I finish my beer and throw the empty can in the yard, like I don’t give a shit. I get close to Ricky. He puts his arm around me for like a second, but then takes it back.
Um, weird.
I get a stomach cramp. Have I read the signs wrong? Is Ricky not into me? I don’t know if I could take another Alex Lind scenario. A guy who’s only being nice, not actually pursuing me. My ego ain’t indestructible.
I look across the hot tub, at all of my brother’s friends, watching us.
Oh. Okay. That I can work with. He wants to be alone with me.
“Shit,” I say suddenly. Everyone gets real quiet.
“What?” Ricky whispers.
“I think I heard something.” I climb out of the water. Damn, it’s bitter out. My whole body is steaming.
“What? I didn’t hear anything.”
Dummy. I grab Ricky’s arm. “Come investigate with me.”
He gives me this pleading look, then glances over at the rest of the people in the hot tub. But they’re all back to giggling and speaking in whispers. They aren’t paying attention to us at all.
“Hurry up!” I growl. I’m freezing my ass off.
We walk out of the main yard and around to the side of the pool house. It hits me how awesome it will feel to kiss Ricky, basically right in front of Alex’s bedroom. I push him up against the wall and say, “So, you gonna kiss me or what?” But it doesn’t sound as sexy as I want it to, because I’m shivering so damn hard.
