“You’ll make all the ladies in the crowd faint! Won’t he, girls?”
As if we’re all on cue, every girl in the class screams for Alex like he’s a pop star or a teen idol or something. Even me. Alex turns redder than a holly berry.
It’s a good reminder that nice things do happen to good people, every so often.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
I’ve never stood on a diving platform before. Reeve wanted me to try it, at least once before the test, but I couldn’t bring myself to. My knees are shaking. It’s so high up, and the water looks really deep. There’s a whole line of us on the blocks. People are crouched and poised in diving positions, everyone except me. I force myself to breathe. I don’t have to do a fancy swan dive into the water; all I have to do is jump.
If I can do this, I can do anything. That’s what I keep telling myself.
Coach Christy is giving the instructions that I know by heart—up and down the length of the pool twice, then two minutes of treading water. I fumble with my goggles. They feel so tight around my eyes. I hate wearing them, but Reeve kept saying I would feel more comfortable underwater if I could see, and he was right.
Coach Christy blows her whistle, and I squeeze my eyes shut. The other people jump first; I hear their splashes in the water. I count to three, and then I do it. I jump. I hit the water with a slap. I move my arms; I kick my legs. I try to remember everything Reeve said: Keep your head down, arms against your ears, kick kick kick. I hold my breath for as long as I can before I gasp to the surface; then I’m turning my face back down into the water again. I feel like I’m drowning, but I keep pulling myself through the water until my fingers hit the wall, and then I’m turning around and going the other way.
I don’t look over to the lanes on my left and right, because I’m afraid to break up my rhythm, but I’m pretty sure they’re already done. I can’t care about that, though, I have to focus on myself and not worry about what other people are doing.
You can do it. You can do it.
I feel exhausted by the second time I hit the wall, every muscle in my body is burning, but now I know it’s almost over, only one more length of the pool. I take my time now; there’s no rush, like Reeve said. Take it easy, one stroke at a time.
And then I’m there. My fingers touch the wall. I made it. I come up for air and cling to the side of the pool, breathing hard. I hear clapping, and I look up—there’s Reeve, standing by the bleachers, clapping and whistling. For me.
I can’t believe he came.
Everyone else is out of the pool, so Coach Christy comes over with her stopwatch to time me treading water. I keep my back straight and my knees bent and I do the eggbeater kick that Reeve taught me last week. I swallow some water, but I manage to keep my head up.
“Good job, Lil,” she says, beaming at me.
The stopwatch goes off, and I can’t believe it. I did it. I actually did it. I swim over to the pool ladder, and I climb up. My body is so sore already, but I feel like a champion. I feel like I can do anything.
Running over to Reeve, I scream, “I did it!”
He’s grinning like crazy. “Yeah, you did!” I launch myself into his arms and he lifts me in the air. I feel deliriously, euphorically happy.
We’re laughing, but when he sets me back down, there’s this long awkward pause of us looking at each other. We both start talking at the same time.
“Thank you—”
“You were awesome—”
We laugh and I try again. “Thank you for everything. I couldn’t have done it without you, Reeve. The whole time, I kept reminding myself of everything you taught me.”
“Aw,” Reeve says, cocking his head to the side. “Look at that, swimming brought us together.” Quickly he adds, “As friends.”
Another awkward silence. “Yup, totally!” I say. “Thank you so much.”
Reeve hands me my towel from the bleacher bench. “Don’t mention it,” he says. “Are you gonna go to the library today?”
I shake my head. “No, I have to be somewhere.” I’m meeting Kat and Mary in the girls’ room at five.
“Ah, okay.” He sounds disappointed, which makes me feel warm inside. He reaches out and gives my wet ponytail a playful tug. “Good job, Cho.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
CHAPTER FORTY
I’m perched up on the bathroom radiator when Kat walks in. “Hey, hey, girl,” Kat says. She tosses her backpack on the floor and plops down on it. “How was your Thanksgiving?”
“Umm . . . not great.” I pick some lint off my sweater. “My parents didn’t come.”
“Damn.”
“Yup,” I say, and let the P pop. “It pretty much sucked.”
The door suddenly bursts open and Lillia comes running in. “I did it!” she screams. “I passed my swimming test!” I clap my hands and Kat whoops. “Way to go, Lil!”
She’s practically hopping up and down she’s so excited. “I was so nervous up there on the diving block, but then I did it—I jumped right in! I mean, it took me twice as long as everybody else, but I did it. And treading water was the easiest part, too.” She stands in front of the mirror and takes her wet hair out of the ponytail holder. “Reeve came to cheer me on. I was totally surprised.” She fishes around in her bag and pulls out an ivory-colored comb and starts combing her hair. “Actually . . . Reeve might have mentioned you the other day, Mary.”
I’m stunned. “Really?” Wow. Just . . . wow.
Kat’s picking at the soles of her combat boots with a pen, and her head snaps up. “What did he say?” she asks, skeptically.
The comb in Lillia’s hand stills. “It was right before the break. He found out he can’t play football next year. His leg hasn’t healed fast enough.” I don’t take my eyes off her; I’m hanging on her every word, not even breathing. “He was crying; he was upset. And then he said that he deserved it. He said he had it coming. He said that a long time ago, he hurt a girl really badly and he’s never forgotten about it. He said it was almost a relief that he was finally paying for what he did.” She turns around and faces us. “I believed him, you guys.”
He never forgot me? This whole time he’s been thinking about me and how sorry he is? Oh. My. God.
“You don’t know that he was talking about Mary,” Kat objects. “Did he say her name? Did he say what he did to her? What she did to herself?”
Lillia hesitates. “Well . . . no. I guess not. That’s why I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure.”
“He’s dicked over like ninety-nine percent of the girls in this school,” Kat says, her arms crossed. “He could have been talking about anyone.”
Lillia’s shaking her head. “Guys, if you’d been there, if you’d seen the look on his face, you would have believed him too. Whoever he was talking about, he was sincere. There was genuine remorse. I honestly think he’s sorry.”
Kat jumps up off the floor. “Eff that! Even if he was talking about Mary, who cares if he’s sorry now? It’s too late. Sorry doesn’t count for shit. Also don’t forget, like, three weeks ago he had a chance to tell her how sorry he was to her face and instead he told her to go f**k herself! He wants to look good in front of you, Lil. He doesn’t care about Mary.”
My eyes well up. Kat’s right. I won’t be fooled by Reeve Tabatsky again.
Lillia sighs. “I’m sorry I even brought it up.”
“I don’t trust him,” I say, and my voice comes out thin and watery. “Lil, I know you said things are going good with you two, but on Thanksgiving night I saw him at the movies with Rennie. It seemed like they were on a date.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Lillia assures me. “He only hung out with her because I couldn’t get out of the house. He texted me first.”
Kat cracks her knuckles. “Even if Ren’s sloppy seconds, she’s still a threat. The girl is like a pit bull when she wants something. We should seal this deal sooner than later.”
Lillia frowns. “Seal the deal? What does that even mean?”
“You guys have been hanging around each other for almost a month now, swimming and studying and shit, but you haven’t done anything. Like, he hasn’t made any actual moves on you yet, right?”
“Right . . . ,” Lillia says. “But it’s not like we ever decided what I’m supposed to do. ‘Break his heart’ is kind of abstract. I want a plan, something with a concrete end game for me to execute. I don’t want to be dragging this on for another three months.”
Kat’s nodding. “Okay, okay, so I think it’s a three-step plan. You’ve definitely baited the hook, but I’m not sure Reeve’s bitten. So, step one is you guys need a hot French.”
Lillia looks aghast. “French? Like in French kiss?”
Kat laughs. “Come on. Haven’t you ever French-kissed someone you didn’t like? Close your eyes and pretend he’s someone else.”
Lillia bites her lip. “I guess . . .”
“Maybe you could do it at the tree-lighting ceremony,” I say. “I’ll be there, singing with the chorus. Alex Lind, too. He got a solo. It’s next Tuesday night.”
“He did?” Kat looks surprised. It’s nice to have news to share with the group for once, to know something they don’t.
“He’s going to be doing ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside,’” I tell her. “He has a great voice. And he’s playing his guitar, too.”
Kat smiles to herself. “Nice.”
“Lindy must be so happy. But why didn’t he say anything?” Lillia pouts her lips and puts on some ChapStick. “You know what, I’m going to get the whole group together to watch him sing. And plus, I want to see you sing too, Mary.”
“I don’t have a solo or anything,” I say. “But it’ll be nice having someone in the audience there for me.” There’s no way Aunt Bette will go. Not that I even want her to.
Kat says, “Lil, this is perfect. Make your move on Reeve that night. Boom.”
“Maybe,” Lillia says. “If Rennie’s not there.”
“I thought you said that was no problem.”
“She’s not. I—I just don’t want to do it right in front of her face.” She digs her cell out of her purse. “Let me text Reeve, make sure he can come.”
We crowd around her as she texts, Thanks again for coming today, Coach. Do you want to go to the tree lighting on Tues? Lindy is singing a solo, we can surprise him!
He writes back right away. Yeah, let’s do it. Hey. Are we still studying on Sat?
As she reads it, Kat wiggles her eyebrows at me, and I smile.
“Boom. Then you’re on to step two.”
“Which is . . .”
“Make Reeve think you’re his girlfriend through Christmas. Be all cozy and shit so he buys you a present. Then we’ll know for sure that he sees you as girlfriend material.”
“Do you think he would?”
I think of that day, when Reeve gave me my daisy necklace. How happy it made me. “Yeah,” I say. “I bet he will get you something.”
Lillia chews on her nail. “Well, what’s step three?”
Kat’s about to open her mouth, but I beat her to it. “New Year’s Eve. You leave him hanging at midnight.”
“Ah.”
Kat waves her hands. “Ooh! I know! You could kiss someone else at midnight!”
Glaring, Lillia shakes her head at her. “I’m not a slut.”
Kat backs off. “Okay, okay. Then leave him high and dry like Mary said.”
Lillia thinks it over. And she starts nodding, slowly. “Okay. Good. And then, January first, I’m done. New year, new start.”
“Yup. Done.” Kat high-fives her for emphasis, and she’s about to high-five me when a girl I don’t recognize steps into the bathroom. Kat’s arm drops and I hurry out before the door slams shut. As I leave, Kat goes into a stall to pee, and Lillia leans over the sink and finishes putting on her makeup.
I’m about halfway down the hall when something tells me to go back. I don’t know why; it’s just a feeling. So I do. I go back to the bathroom door and press my ear close.
“Did you know her parents didn’t even come to Thanksgiving? They were supposed to and then they changed their minds.”
Kat. Whispering. About me.
Lillia gasps. “That’s horrible. Poor thing.”
“Shit with her aunt sounds crazy too. If she’s not locked up in the attic, she’s berating Mary. And have you driven past her house lately? Thing is practically falling down. I don’t know if she should be living there anymore.”
“Should we try to call her parents or something? Tell them what’s going on?”
“But that’s the thing. We don’t even know what’s going on.” Kat lets out a long sigh. “I doubt Mary’s giving us the full picture of how bad things are. Probably because she doesn’t want us to worry. Something is definitely going on with her.”
“Maybe we could get her to talk to someone. Like a counselor.”
“Yeah. We probably should. It’s up to us to take care of her. No one else is.”
I run from the bathroom. I know the conversation is them being good friends, but I hate the idea of them talking about me behind my back. And I can’t have anyone, not school, not Lillia and Kat, talking to Aunt Bette. Because Aunt Bette knows my secret. And no one else can.