Torched Page 9

  I stared at her, surprised. Everyone thought of Hayley as fluff, as a pretty girl without much more to her despite how big her family was in this town. Even I did. But clearly, Hayley wasn’t as oblivious, or as toothless, as she seemed.

  “You’d do that?”

  “I think it’s terrible how she took advantage of you.” Hayley grimaced. “People do that to me all the time, because I’m nice. I don’t mind, mostly. But I mind for you. You have enough to worry about without Natalie going behind your back.”

  Her sympathy nearly broke me, and I stared at the marching band until I’d regained control. Hayley was Paxton’s girlfriend; by all rights she shouldn’t be helping me. But no one had told her she wasn’t on my side.

  The band finished their performance, and we clapped along with the rest of the crowd.

  “Thanks, Hayley,” I said as the applause died down. “You know, you should be Homecoming Queen. You deserve it.”

  She shrugged, then popped up off the bench. “Let’s go.” I realized the football team was trotting back onto the field. Time to get our cheer on again. I found I didn’t feel so bad anymore, and even summoned a smile as the squad lined up.

  The second half went as well as the first, and the Bulldogs slunk away pretty quick after the game ended. I packed up my stuff and tried not to seethe as everyone clapped Paxton on the back. Picking up my bag, I headed for the gate.

  “Ms. Whitfield.”

  Alina’s voice. I turned, stomach sinking.

  “That had better be the start of a very formal apology,” I said.

  “The Homecoming committee would like you to return your crown until the dance,” Alina declared. “For safekeeping.” She wasn’t accompanied by the girls I used to call friends and now thought of as Alina’s cronies, and it was like we occupied a pocket of stillness in the bustling crowd of red and gray. I met her gaze.

  “Why?”

  “We’re afraid the criminal element in the area might steal it.”

  I bristled. “If you mean me, say it.”

  “Of course I don’t mean you. Metal doesn’t burn,” she pointed out. “I meant thieves and such. I’ll keep it safe for you.”

  She hadn’t collected the other tiaras, I knew--to my left, the freshman princess headed for the parking lot, her prize sparkling on her head. But I didn’t point that out. “That’s so nice, Alina.” I cocked my head. “You know, you’re really the best friend someone could have. Always thinking of me. So loyal.”

  Alina sucked in a breath, then raised her chin.

  “You admitted to it. You signed the papers.”

  “And if we were still friends, I’d tell you why.” Something flickered in Alina’s dark eyes: curiosity, maybe, or doubt. I should be thrilled. I should be mentally pumping my fist into the air at possibly getting through to her. But I was too hurt to care about explaining right now. I dug the crown from my bag and held it out. “Too bad.”

  Alina hesitated, then grabbed the crown and retreated to a group of class council friends. I watched her until I caught sight of Ryan. He stood by Paxton’s crowd at the edge of the field. He was watching me, but when I met his gaze he looked away.

  According to the terms of the agreement I’d signed, I’d have to apologize in person tomorrow, to Ryan and his family. A sourness filled my mouth, and pressure built in my head. Maybe I wouldn’t, I thought. Maybe I’d give them a piece of my mind instead of an apology. Maybe--but did it even matter?

  “Um, Rose?” came a voice at my shoulder. I turned to find Samantha, the freckled junior from newspaper, holding a notepad and pen. Redheaded Kayla from yearbook stood beside her.

  “What?”

  “We’re supposed to do follow-up interviews with the winners ...” Samantha trailed off. She and Kayla both looked nervous, like I might light them on fire at any moment.

  Suddenly I was exhausted. The lights on the field and bleachers still blazed an oasis of voices, victory and school spirit, but I didn’t feel like I belonged here anymore.

  “I can’t,” I said. “Find me on Monday or something.”

  Turning, I walked into the night.

  Chapter 9

  By the time my dad and I reached the clubhouse on Saturday, my urge to lash Ryan and his parents with a piece of my mind had crawled away like a bug. It might have been my dad reminding me beforehand that if I didn’t apologize to Mr. Appleton’s satisfaction, I might go to jail. It might have been Mr. Prichard chummily shaking Mr. Appleton’s hand when we walked in, or how the Appletons’ lawyer looked ready to whip out handcuffs right there if I didn’t perform as promised.

  So I did. I stuck to the script, and didn’t look at Ryan at all. As far as I could tell, he didn’t take his gaze off the wood grain of the table. I felt dazed, and mortified, and furious, and didn’t really snap back to things until my dad and I walked out to my car.

  I sucked in gulps of air redolent with golf greens and crawfish--I was parked in the staff lot by the kitchens--and leaned against Cloudmonster’s hood. I felt shaky. Mr. Appleton’s gaze had been glacier cold. In his eyes, I’d always wear an orange jumpsuit now.

  My dad put a hand on my shoulder.

  “Rose. Good job in there.” He smiled at me, as if it really were All Over and now we could move on with our lives.

  “It doesn’t bother you that someone framed me?” I said. It came out pep-rally loud. My dad glanced towards the clubhouse as if they might have heard me.

  “We have to focus on the future, Rose. Not the past.”

  I stared at him, and wondered if, despite everything he’d said, my dad didn’t believe me. But then I realized it didn’t matter. Unless I could prove my innocence, it was over. I made myself shrug as if in agreement.

  “What vintage dress of mom’s did you have to eBay for the money?” I’d nixed the accusation in my voice in favor of something sunnier, but my dad tensed.

  “Um,” he said. I frowned. Um? He never said um, or uh, or any other public-speaking no-no. And ... was my dad actually shuffling his feet?

  “What?” I asked.

  My dad took a deep breath, then looked me in the eye.

  “Actually, I had to sell the car.”

  “Your Mercedes?” Then I realized what he meant. My head started shaking, back and forth like it was battery-powered. “No. You can’t. Not Cloudmonster. No way!”

  “The Callaways agreed to buy it back for the same amount they sold it to us. It’s a better deal than we’d find anywhere else, and it just about covered the damages to the boat.”

  I splayed my hands on the hood, as if I could shield Cloudmonster from the news that he would be torn away from me.

  “You don’t have to turn it over until tomorrow,” my dad said. “I have to get back to work. I’ll see you at home.” He started to turn away.

  My fists balled at my sides. “What if I crash the car today?”

  My dad paused. “Then you’ll quit cheerleading and work at the club until you’ve paid off the damage.” He took in my mutinous expression. “Rose, I mean it.”

  Tears pressed hot against my eyes. I crossed my arms.

  “Don’t worry. I’d never hurt Cloudmonster.”

  My dad hesitated, then patted my shoulder.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and walked back to the clubhouse.

  I jumped in my car and fled.

  Heading north, I cruised for a while on the highway before turning toward the coast. I wound up at a little beach, hardly more than a strip of sand between the rocks and water. The parking lot overlooked the shore, so I parked and sat on top of Cloudmonster’s cooling hood. I cried a little, ignoring the glances of a few beachgoers. When I’d wiped the last tear from my face, I patted Cloudmonster’s baby blue metal and stared out at the ocean.

  Everything wa
s wrong. This wasn’t how senior year was supposed to be.

  Tonight was the Homecoming dance, the night I should have spent at Ryan’s side, propping up a crown and basking in attention. My dress was waiting at home. Alina had hired a professional hairstylist for us. We should be giggling together right now, and sneaking a bottle of white wine up to Alina’s room.

  Tonight was supposed to be the best night of the year. Tonight was supposed to be like a roller coaster--fun, scary, and thrilling.

  Tonight I was supposed to lose my virginity to Ryan.

  But instead of my roller coaster, it was like I’d been run over by the track team. I could either hide out at home like a coward, or go to the dance and beg my crown back from Alina like a chump as everyone whispered and laughed. And tomorrow I’d be carless. I might even have to take the bus again. The bus.

  I loved Ryan, I loved Alina, and they’d abandoned me. It hurt too much to think about, but I couldn’t stop.

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

  I spent a long time staring at the Pacific, watching tourists dip toes into the surf and shriek about how cold the water was. My stomach grumbled, but I ignored it. As the sun eased from its zenith, my self-pity ebbed, and my resolve surged in with the tide.

  Paxton might think everything was sewn up, that I was beaten. I’d lost Ryan, Alina, my chance at Harvard--no matter how my dad wanted me to spin this in the essay, I thought I’d vomit if I had to write how I’d supposedly lit a boat on fire because I was mad at my boyfriend--and even my car. No wonder Paxton wanted to end our feud: he’d won.

  But it wasn’t over until I admitted defeat, and I’d never admitted defeat. Not even when Paxton tripped me the August before freshman year and I fell badly, twisting my knee. Cheerleader tryouts had been out of the question, according to my doctor, but I did physical therapy like nobody’s business, and refused to give up. I did miss tryouts, but I’d nagged Mrs. Yancey until she set up a special tryout for me. I’d squeaked onto the squad as an alternate, worked hard, and by the end of the season earned a spot in the pyramid.

  So I wasn’t going to just cry and take this. If I could prove Paxton framed me, I’d get my car back, and Alina and Ryan would ... well, I didn’t know what would happen with them, but they’d have to accept I was innocent. And Paxton would be the one spinning his college essay. Hayley would probably dump him, too, once she found out his face hid a soul grosser than the locker room showers.

  I stayed at the beach, patting Cloudmonster’s hood, until I worked out my plan of attack, and then I drove home.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Armor: check.” I brushed a speck of mascara off my cheek and gave myself a once-over in my mirror. I looked fantastic. I’d curled my own hair--take that, Alina and your pro stylist--and it hung in soft, loose waves down my back. Rhinestones studded my strapless cobalt dress, which would’ve looked stunning with the red rose corsage Ryan had planned to give me.

  Red roses, my soulmate, and a crown. That’s what tonight should have been. The bouquet from yesterdays Humiliation Coronation, as I thought of it, was rotting at the bottom of the kitchen trash can. My parents didn’t even know I’d won. When they came home at midnight and my mom asked how things went, I’d just said, “Fine, but I lost.” I figured if they couldn’t be bothered to show up, they didn’t deserve to hear the playback. Besides, if I’d admitted I won, my mom would have wanted to celebrate, and I hadn’t exactly been in the mood.

  As it was, my mom tried to hug me. I’d shut my door in her face.

  Now, I checked myself once more in the mirror, then grabbed my tiny silver purse and trotted downstairs. My parents waited in the living room, my dad holding a camera. My mom leaped up from the couch and clapped her hands.

  “You look perfect, Rose. Just ... perfect.” Tears shone in her eyes. My mom’s approval usually made me happy, but I felt oddly untouched by it tonight. What did it matter if I looked perfect? Last Friday everything had seemed perfect, and look where that had gotten me. Perfect could flush itself down the toilet, as far as I was concerned.

  I forced a smile and let my parents snap a few photos. For the last one I tossed my purse onto the couch and my mom and I hugged, our faces pressed together cheek-to-cheek. I felt hollow, and fake, because I was still angry with my mom for being the reason I’d signed those stupid papers, and for pretending that everything was fine now. But I hugged her anyway.

  “I think you’re so brave for going to the dance by yourself,” my mom said once my dad took the picture. I pulled away, my anger boiling over.

  “Can it, mom,” I snapped. “Just ... can it.”

  My mom cast a wide-eyed glance at my dad, then stalked from the room. My dad, as usual, bristled on her behalf, always ready to defend her.

  “You cannot speak to your mother like--”

  “Stop!” My hands shook. My mom could pretend this farce of happiness was real, but my dad knew better. “I am going to go to the dance in Cloudmonster, then turn over the keys tomorrow like a good little non-criminal. What more do you want?”

  “I know you’re angry about the car, Rose, but you can’t take this out on your mother. It’s not fair.”

  “You’re right,” I shot back. “It’s not fair. Mom has like eight million pieces of jewelry, but I lose the one thing I have left that I really care about. I understand that was the only option you had.” If I really had set the fire, losing my car would be appropriate. It would still suck hard core, but I’d deserve it. My dad claimed he believed me, but as Ryan had pointed out, there were words and there were actions. If my dad actually thought I was innocent, I didn’t see why he’d punish me like this. So although my anger was kind of about the car, it also kind of wasn’t.

  My dad blinked, as if he hadn’t even thought about selling some of the tennis bracelets mom was addicted to. Then he turned to leave. He paused at the entrance to the living room with an expression I recognized. He wanted to end the conversation with something parental, something mom would have said to make everything seem alright.

  “Have fun at your dance,” he finally ventured.

  “Dad,” I said before he could go. “In ten years, mom will probably have left you anyway. By then, you’ll have lost me too.” It was the most hurtful thing I could think of to say. So much for keeping my anger under wraps.

  My dad stared at me, then left.

  “No crying,” I whispered to the empty room, and snatched up my purse.

  ~ ~ ~

  Alina had approved every aspect of the Homecoming dance, so I knew what I was going to see before I saw it, but even so I was impressed with how the decorations turned out.

  Ship murals on giant canvases swathed the halls, and the gym was decked out in balloons: orange, pink and red to be the sunset we were all sailing off into. Blue glitter represented water on the floor, and stuck to my shoes. The poor janitorial staff. Plastic seagulls hung from the ceiling, and paper cutout fish jumped from the baseboards.

  Conscious of stares, I made my way into the largest room, which housed the basketball court and slide-out bleachers. I stepped to the right, into a corner next to the door, and looked around. Clumps of students lined the walls, and a crowd in the center danced with abandon. I scanned faces, waving to a group of sophomores I sort of knew through the underclassmen cheerleaders. They gave me weak smiles and moved hastily onto the dance floor.

  I spotted Juliette about twenty paces away with some other juniors, including redheaded Kayla and freckled Samantha--I hoped they wouldn’t try to interview me tonight. I couldn’t afford to be distracted. I waved at Juliette. Paxton’s sister waved back, but her friends, looking frightened, turned away. Lord, they probably thought I might burn down the school.

  But I wasn’t here for them. I was here for ...

  There. Across the darkened dance floor, Paxton stood with Hayley,
Ryan and ... Alina. She wore a red rose corsage I’d picked out two weeks ago.

  She came with Ryan.

  Some freshmen were staring at me, and I realized I must look about to explode. I couldn’t believe Alina came with Ryan. Probably just as friends, but still. I’d thought I’d built up the invisible shield around my heart, but I felt like she’d knocked it down and was stabbing at me with chopsticks. Pointy ones.

  Deep breaths, I told myself. Then I frowned. Why wasn’t Ryan here with Francesca? She was, after all, the girl he’d betrayed me for.

  My gaze caught on the clock high on the gym wall, and I squared my shoulders. It was time. I hope this works. I marched over.

  The foursome spotted me and froze. Hayley wore the only smile.

  “Hi, Alina,” I said when I reached them. “I came to collect my crown. Thanks so much for keeping it safe for me.”

  She blinked, then crossed her arms. “I forgot it.”

  “Wow, that’s surprising--you usually have such a good memory.” I smiled. “Like an elephant.” No girl likes to be called an elephant, even if, as in Alina’s case, she was the opposite of fat. Her eyes narrowed.

  “To be honest, I didn’t think you’d have the bad taste to come tonight.”

  “What, and miss all your clever insults? Or did you forget those, too?”

  “Go burn down someone else’s party,” Alina snapped.

  “Hm, I guess you did.” Alina’s eyes narrowed even more, and I smiled, pretending my insides weren’t knotted painfully. I could feel Ryan’s gaze like sandpaper on my skin. Was he remembering my formal apology this morning? Did he think I looked hot tonight? Was he regretting cheating? I burned with the urge to confront him, but instead I turned to the other male member of the group. “Hi, Paxton.”

  He looked uneasy. “What do you want?”

  “I’m here for my dance, of course. The Homecoming Court’s awkward couples’ mambo is at nine sharp, right?” Back before my life imploded, Alina had consulted me on the schedule of events, so unless they’d changed it up ...