Fire with Fire (Burn for Burn 2)

hunch if we don’t want to knock ourselves out.

“You’ll need to go through these documents, scan the front

pages, and then save them to the hard drive.” She shows me a

thing that looks like a paper shredder. “It goes quick; you slide

the documents through this and the scanner takes a picture.

Try to get them to go in straight. And be extra careful with any

paper that’s turned yellow.”

“What is all this stuff?”

The woman laughs through her nose. “A little of everything,

really. Town charters, newspapers, land surveys.” She’s already

halfway up the stairs. “Let me know if you need anything.” I shrug off my jacket. I’d love to bust right up out of here,

but I can’t. I’ll be working here until spring, probably. Ugh. The

things I’ll do for Oberlin. For f**k’s sake.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

Mrs. Lind has gone all-out this year. There are red-bow-tied waiters walking around passing out fancy little bites like mini lump crab cakes and pear latke cakes with truffled crème fraiche on top, plus there’s a carving station and a raw bar and all kinds of chocolate goodies.

It’s a packed house, people everywhere. My parents are by the Christmas tree talking to some friends from the yacht club. My mom looks so beautiful tonight. She’s wearing a white dress that drapes on the side, and she got her hair done in an updo. She tried to get Nadia and me to go with her and get our hair done too, but Nadia hates the way anyone else does her hair, and while I would normally jump at the chance to get a blowout, I wasn’t in the mood.

I’m in that blue silk dress again, the one I wore to Reeve’s open house. I put my hair in a ponytail and I’ve got on my platform booties because they’re my most comfortable dressy shoe. It’s not like I’m trying to impress anyone tonight.

I’m sitting with Alex on the comfy couch in the living room, sharing a chocolate tart with whipped cream on top. He snuck us some mulled cider, too, although I doubt our parents would care. I don’t know where Nadia is—probably playing Guitar Hero in the pool house with Alex’s cousins. We’re the only kids at the party, only I guess we’re not kids anymore. That’s what Alex’s mom said, that we should stay and socialize with the adults because we’re practically adults ourselves. I’m hoping my parents won’t want to stay too late, because we only took one car.

“Why so glum, Lil?” Alex asks me. “Christmas is in three days.”

I’ve got a forkful of chocolate tart halfway to my mouth. “Glum? I’m not glum. Sorry if I seem that way . . . I guess I’m just tired. I went to the barn really early this morning.”

“How is Phantom?”

“Oh, he’s good.” I take another forkful of tart. “I can’t believe you remember his name.”

Alex gives me a wounded look. “Of course I remember. I’ve seen you compete. Remember, back in freshman year? You used to ride, like, every day. Phantom was all you talked about.”

I laugh. “I guess I was kind of a horsey girl for a while there.” I reach over and grab my clutch off the coffee table. “I got you something for Christmas.”

Alex chews fast and swallows. “No way.”

Shyly, I nod. “I wanted to say thank you. You’ve been so great to me this year.” I quick pull out the present from my clutch. I could barely fit my lipstick and compact inside with it because it takes up so much room.

Alex looks touched. He turns the whole thing over in his hands, and I’m glad I took special care in wrapping it up. I used a special shiny gold foil paper and tied it with a cream silk ribbon. He opens it slowly, careful not to rip the paper. He pulls out the long, whiskey-colored piece of leather and stares at it without saying anything.

“It’s a guitar strap,” I say, because maybe he thinks it’s a belt? I take it from him and turn it over. “I had them emboss your initials in the leather. I picked the font out myself. Anyway, the lady said it’s adjustable, so you can wear it high and tight like Johnny Cash, or low like the punk-rock kids do.” I hand it back to him. “I wasn’t sure what style you’re into.”

“Lil,” he says quietly, and then looks up at me. “This is so cool.” I beam a smile. “Really? You like it?”

Alex nods, but then suddenly stands up from the couch and stares across the room. “Oh, shit.”

I look up, and there’s Reeve, wearing his puffy vest and standing in front of the buffet table with a beer in his hand. He’s cutting himself a piece of the pork tenderloin and eating it with his fingers.

I stand up too, my heart pounding. “Did you invite him?”

“No,” Alex sneers. “I definitely didn’t.”

Now Reeve’s taking a swig of the beer, finishing it in one long gulp. He’s looking around the room; he hasn’t seen us yet. But he spots Alex’s uncle Tim, and he goes up to him and claps him on the back so hard that some champagne tips out of Uncle Tim’s flute.

“He’s drunk,” Alex says with disgust. “We have to get him out of here.”

Alex strides across the room, and I follow him. He goes up to Reeve and puts his hand on his shoulder. “What are you doing here, man?” He’s trying to sound light, but it’s not working.

Reeve turns around unsteadily. “Your mom let me in.” Then he sees me standing behind Alex. “Whaddup, Cho.”

“Hey.”

Alex starts hustling Reeve out of the room and out the back door, toward the pool house, with Reeve protesting and stumbling all the way.

Reeve pushes Alex away from him when we’re outside. “What the hell? I’m not welcome at your house all of a sudden? I thought we were BFFs, bro.”

“You weren’t invited,” Alex says, his voice hard. “And no, bro, we’re not best friends. Not anymore.”

I wrap my arms around myself, shivering. I left my coat inside.

Reeve juts his chin at me. “What is it you have against winter coats?” He starts to shrug out of his puffer coat.

“I’m fine,” I say.

“‘I’m fine,’” he mimics back. Then Reeve’s lip curls. “Whatever. Freeze to death, then. See if I care.”

My eyes well up. He’s being so mean. Is this how it’s going to be with us now?

“You should go,” Alex says, stepping in front of me.