Authors: Mandy Hubbard
Tags: #Teen & Young Adult, #Literature & Fiction, #Social & Family Issues, #Friendship, #Romance, #Contemporary
“Oh my God. You thought—you think—so that day at Ken’s house, you were pissed off… Oh my God.”
I try really hard to stop swaying and get a good look at her, because something is really, really wrong.
“Don’t you remember, Peyton? Tina had taken all your house numbers down and was painting those horrible flamingos all over them. The cops came to my door because they were already looking for your brother. Not because I called them.”
I take a step backward, away from Jess and her lies, and nearly trip over a girl’s long emerald dress. “Oops!”
It can’t be true. She’s lying.
Or else everything I’ve done…all those mean pranks…
It started so small. A poster. A kick me sign. And it spiraled, one prank at a time.
Suddenly she grabs my elbow and starts pushing me across the floor, towards the exit, her pace so fast I can barely keep up.
“Let go!” I yank my arm away from her. My purse whips around on my arm, and Tim’s flask drops out. Some one walks by and accidentally kicks it, and it skids a good twenty feet, only stopping when it hits a shiny black shoe.
I follow a pair of gray slacks upwards, past a matching jacket, to the stern eyes of Mr. Vaughn, our principal. My jaw drops as he reaches down, slowly picks up the flask, and walks towards Jess and me. I’m scanning my brain for excuses, for something brilliant to say, but I’m coming up empty. There’s no way to explain away a flask, no matter how good you are at debate.
I have to do something; I have to say something. I can tell he’s not sure where it came from but he’s heading straight for me. And he’ll smell it. He’ll know it was me, that I was drinking.
Alcohol on school campus is an expellable offense. I’m about to be kicked out of high school three days before I get my diploma. Now even Pizza Hut and Willow Valley Community College are disappearing. I’ll be spending the summer at Willow High, repeating the second semester.
Before I can figure out what’s happening, Jess is shoving me towards Bryn and muttering something, and Bryn and Tim are dragging me out the door faster than my feet can possibly carry me. I glance back just in time to see Jess walk up to the principal, nod her head slowly, and then follow him across the crowded gym.
Even though it’s not her fault, Jess Hill just got caught.
Chapter Thirty
Jess
I spend a full three hours in the principal’s office, so by the time I come out, Dave is pacing the deserted hallways in his tuxedo, looking more than a little worried. The prom is over, everyone has gone home, and I’m sure it didn’t help soothe his nerves when the two police officers showed up.
I give him a little grin. “Everything’s fine.”
He heaves a sigh of relief. “I thought they were going to arrest you.”
“They couldn’t. They did a breath test and obviously I passed. Then I told them the reason I had the bottle was because I’d found it in the hallway and was looking for some way to dispose of it.”
He raises his eyebrow. “Vaughn bought that?”
I shrug. “I’ve never been caught drinking before.”
“So they let you off? All free and clear?”
“Um, not exactly. He’ll let me walk at graduation, but I have to retake my spring classes over the summer. I’m sort of expelled. That means I don’t get credit for courses I didn’t complete.”
“But why? You didn’t do anything!”
I look at the ground. “Actually…”
He grins. “You called him a fascist, didn’t you?”
I give him a sheepish look. “He ruined our night.”
“No.” He takes off his jacket and puts it gently on my shoulders. “Peyton ruined our night.”
I shake my head. “It’s not her fault. I knew we just needed to end it. She knew it, too. She didn’t have to try to put us back together again. And I didn’t have to take the blame for her drinking. But that’s the only way we’ll ever just
stop
.”
“It would have stopped after graduation.”
“Maybe. But…I just didn’t want to end it like that. I mean, she lives next door to me. Can you imagine us being thirty and giving each other nasty looks every time we came home to visit our parents? I wanted it to end on a positive note…” My voice trails off. I’m not even sure where I’m going with this. I just know I’m glad it ended the way it did and not the way it could have.
The hallways are dark, and we take the route past the gymnasium, toward the parking lot. Dave wraps his arms around me as we step into the cool night and head to his Nova, the only car left in the lot.
Before he opens the door for me, he pulls me to him and kisses me on the nose. “So, it’s over.”
I shake my head. “It will be. Tomorrow. I have a letter to deliver.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Peyton
Even though my head is aching and my balance is shot, after Hugh drops me off, I spend the next few hours going through my room, destroying any trace of Harvard. The pennant I’d bought when I was ten, the catalogs, the picture Bryn gave me from Cosmo of the girl in the Harvard hoodie. Before I tear the picture into a thousand pieces, I look at it, thinking,
that will never be me.
When I wake the next morning, head still aching, I open one eye and read the clock. It’s barely after six in the morning. I open both eyes, slowly, and behold the disaster. The signs of destruction are everywhere. My room looks like it’s been hit by a cyclone. Paper and shreds of Harvard burgundy are everywhere. I run to the kitchen to get a trash bag and, in between dry-heaves, load it with garbage. Nobody in the house is awake yet, so I quickly tiptoe outside and lay the trash down at the curb, next to the usual pile of garbage my dad must have brought out the night before.
And that’s when I see it.
The canvas is propped up on its side, against a garbage can, but I can’t mistake the yellow spirals. That’s my hair. And…my face. I know it must be another one of Tina’s attempts, but what would possibly lead her to throw it out? Compared to the McDonalds wrapper fiasco, it’s a masterpiece.
I slowly pull it out, and then I notice the burgundy. The Harvard burgundy. In the picture, I’m wearing the blazer, and the Harvard seal is behind me, like a watermark.
I’m standing there, speechless. When had Tina…
“You weren’t supposed to see that!” a voice calls from across the lawn. Tina’s running toward me in her bathrobe, her hair in a messy ponytail. She snatches the picture from me and then looks at me, her eyes sympathetic. “I’m sorry. Talk about rubbing salt in the wound.”
I’m still looking at the painting. “You painted that?”
She nods. “It was supposed to be a graduation present.” As if it’s not enough, she says, “Well, that and your first year’s tuition.”
My mouth drops open. “What?”
“You can still have the money, of course. Your dad and I decided—you can use it for whatever you want.”
I can’t speak for a long moment. Finally, I form two words: “You…knew?”
“Knew what?” An astonished expression overtakes her face. “About Harvard? Are you kidding me? That’s all you’ve been talking about since the day I met you. Do you think we’re idiots? And your father has been working like mad trying to get the tuition together. He figured if you were going to try so damn hard to get accepted, he should push just as hard to help make it happen.”
Wow. I suddenly feel like a complete, total jerk. All those times my dad was burnt out…he’d been doing it for me.
Me.
Someone just shoot me now. Or at least run over me a time or two with a Mack truck, because that’s what I deserve.
I take the painting from her hands and bring it to eye level. “Can I keep it? I mean, I know there’s no point because I didn’t get accepted, but it’s really nice.”
She smiles proudly. “It
is
some of my best work.”
And for a moment, I see why my dad praises her art. She gets this glow on her face like nothing I’ve ever seen.
I stand there, dazed, holding the picture in my hands, shivering. I’m not sure why. It’s chilly, yes, but maybe it’s because I can’t believe my dad and stepmom, two people I thought had moved to outer space years ago, were on this planet all along.
Her voice breaks into my thoughts. “I’m going to make coffee. You coming in?”
“Um, yeah.” I still can’t take my eyes off the painting.
I can hear her padding through the grass, and then she slows to a stop. “For what it’s worth, Harvard doesn’t know what they’re missing. But you’ll show them. I know you will.”
I have a mini-heart-attack right there. It’s a while before I can bring myself to move from that spot on the curb.
Chapter Thirty-two
Jess
Fantastic
, I think, tossing my head back and forth in the mirror the morning after prom. I’ve just finished putting in the last of about a hundred mini-braids. I look like I should be playing the steel drums.
My mother gives me an
I knew it!
look when I plod downstairs and tell her to expect a call from the principal. I explain that I won’t be graduating on Tuesday after all and that the GED or selling my body on Main Street for a buck an hour are all viable options, and she goes right back to applying her lipstick and pretending I don’t exist. She sighs, pursing her lips together, and I know she’s thinking that since the past twelve hours of semi-normalness is now history, Dave must be history too.
“All right if Dave comes over for dinner tomorrow?” I ask casually as I hoist my Army bag onto my shoulder.
She turns to me and stares. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
When I’m through waiting for a reply, I say, “Unless you’d rather us pick through garbage cans…”
She smiles, still astonished. “No! I mean, that would be lovely.”
“You
do
still know how to cook?”
She nods. “Of course.”
When I step outside, I’m fully aware my mother may soon be lying in a heap on the kitchen floor, still clutching her lipstick and repeating my name over and over in utter shock and glee. I head across the lawn with purpose.
I’m nervous about Peyton’s reaction. She has every reason to punch me out for attempting to destroy her dreams. But I guess I have a reason to do the same. We’re even. No winners, no losers. Just even.
I navigate past some strange sculptures on her porch and rap on the side of the screen door. It isn’t long before I see a figure padding across the hardwood inside, toward me, crazy curls outlined in the shadows. Peyton. When she’s closer, I can see her face. It’s clean-scrubbed, all of last night’s make-up gone, but her eyes are still bloodshot and sleepy. Vodka will do that to a girl.
When she sees me, an expression of shock crosses her face. “Oh. Hey,” she says noncommittally.
I guess I understand the confusion; I haven’t stood on this porch in
years
. Maybe she thinks I’m just going to prank her again. But I’ve held the acceptance letter from her so long, it’s like a hot potato—as soon as she opens the screen door a bit, I thrust it into her hands.
“This is yours,” I say quickly.
She takes it, closes the screen door, then stares at it for a long moment in complete silence. Then she turns it over and looks at the other side. I suppose that after my past pranks, she needs to examine it thoroughly to make sure it’s real. When it seems like ages have passed, I figure I should probably leave, since I’m obviously the last person she’d want to celebrate with. I’m just turning around when she says, “Oh my God. It’s my…”
I stop, mid-turn. “Acceptance, I think.”
She brings her hand to her open mouth and shrieks a little. There are tears mingling with the shock in her eyes.
“Have fun at Har—” I begin, but before I can finish, she explodes through the screen door and wraps her arms around me.
Then she hugs the acceptance letter and dances around the porch, repeating, “I got in! I got in!” in a hoarse whisper.
“Yeah,” I say a little uncomfortably, though part of me, the part that scoured those college catalogs with her so many years ago, is cheering her on. Surely there’s someone else she wants to share the news with. “Enjoy.”
I start to take the steps down to her driveway when she says, “Thank you. For what you did. Last night.”
I shake my head and motion toward the envelope. “I’ve had that for two weeks. You never would have gotten drunk in the first place if I hadn’t kept it from you.” I pause, and then add, “I’m sorry. It was a rotten thing to do.”
She winces, and then shrugs. “Making Dave fake-date you was just as bad. And
I’m sorry
. For that. You’ve liked him for a million years.”
I look away from her, to my house—which I haven’t seen from this angle in years—and then back again. “The pool thing at Ken’s was because of your brother’s arrest, huh?”
She looked down at her bare toes. “Yeah. I jumped to conclusions, I know. I should have trusted you and instead I threw you in a pool.”
I actually laugh at that one, and it breaks the tension. “Things kind of went crazy, huh?”
She smiles, more to herself than to me. “Yeah. I think we knew each other so well, we knew exactly how to hurt each other, you know?”
I nod. “Yeah. But who would have thought it would get
that
crazy?”
She laughs. “Not me. I
drank on school property.
I mean, who would have seen that coming?”