Ashes to Ashes (Burn for Burn 3)

“I’m not friends with your friends,” I remind him.

“They aren’t that bad. Plus, I’m inviting a couple of kids from chorus too.”

I roll my eyes. “Ashlin is that bad.” Last week, as I was walking through the school parking lot, I spotted her picking the pennies and nickels out of her center console and tossing them out the window like they were old gum wrappers or something. I mean, I get that pennies are basically worthless, but nickels aren’t. Who in their right mind throws away nickels? A homeless person would love him some freaking nickels.

Alex shakes his head, like I’ve got it wrong. “She’s nice. And she’ll be nice to you. I promise. It won’t suck. I mean, you do remember my uncle’s yacht, right?”

I have to laugh, because of course I remember. That’s where we hooked up last summer. “Eww, dude. Please. You’re like my brother. I don’t want to think about kissing my brother.”

“Fine, fine. I’m just saying. What else are you going to do?”

I open my mouth, but close it just as fast. I don’t have jack shit going on for spring break, besides obsessively checking my mailbox for word from Oberlin. Danner said she’d send in my letter after the benefit, so I’m assuming I’ll hear something soon.

“I’ll think about it,” I say. “But I want to talk to Lil about it first, because I’m not a jerkface.” I emphasize the last part for Alex’s benefit. It feels weird to say yes, to go away with Alex and his friends, when I know she isn’t invited.

*  *  *

When I see Lil next period, I get right to it. I tell her about Alex’s spring break invite and watch her face closely for any signs that she’s pissed. But she doesn’t give me any.

“Yeah, you should go,” she says. “Definitely.”

So, looks like I’m going. I guess it’ll be fun.

I guess.

The only thing that sucks is that if Lillia was going, I know it’d for sure be a good time.

Chapter Thirty-One

LILLIA

THE VERY FIRST DAY OF spring break, I get the news—I got in to Boston College! My mom and I jump up and down and scream our heads off when we see the big envelope. Daddy’s at a conference now, but he’s flying in on Friday, so we can do a celebratory dinner at Uni Sushi, which is easily the most expensive restaurant on the island. There’s only a tasting menu, and it’s incredible. I’ve been there once, for my fourteenth birthday. My mom took Rennie and Nadia and me. The best part is, my mom said I should invite Reeve too, so he and Daddy can properly meet. It will be perfect, because my dad will be in a good mood, and there will be amazing sushi, and it will just be really easy-peasy. Fingers crossed.

I spend the week riding Phantom nearly every afternoon and working on my tan. If I can’t tan on a yacht, I can at least tan by my pool. I’ll be damned if they come back all golden brown and I’m pasty like sugar-cookie dough.

One day Reeve and I go get mani-pedis at the salon, and the ladies at the salon go gaga over him. The whole time, Reeve flips through fashion magazines pointing out possible prom looks for me. He finds one I really love, so I rip the page out when no one’s looking.

As soon as I get home, I start calling stores in Boston, and I find one that carries it—this fancy boutique on Newbury Street near our apartment. It’s call C’est La, and it carries a lot of French designers. My mom buys all her bras there, because according to her, only the French know how to do lingerie.

The next day Reeve and I wake up extra early and head into Boston. We go straight to the boutique, and I run and try the dress on. It fits perfectly, but I’m still not sure.

Reeve knocks on the dressing room door. “Come on, lemme see.”

“No, I want it to be a surprise,” I say.

I’m still staring at myself in the dress, looking at it from every angle, when it occurs to me—what’s holding me back. Why I’m uncertain. It’s the first dress for a school dance that I’ll have bought without Rennie beside me telling me it’s the one.

I have to bite my lip not to cry. I look into the mirror and whisper, “Ren, what do you think? Do I have your okay?”

I close my eyes and imagine that Rennie is next to me, smiling, saying, “Yeah, beotch, you have my okay.”

It’s silly, but when I open my eyes, I know this dress is the one, because Rennie said so.

After we leave the boutique, I take Reeve to the place where all the food trucks park near the BC campus. Sausage-and-pepper sandwiches are Reeve’s favorite, and supposedly this one cart serves up the best ones in the entire country. It’s hilarious, watching him eat it. He keeps making these Mmmmm sounds. Then we walk around campus for a bit before we drive back to the ferry. I point out the dorms and the library, and we stop in the student store and I buy a BC sweatshirt. I imagine it’ll be just like this when he’s visiting me on the weekends when he doesn’t have football.

*  *  *

On Friday I’m on my computer looking at pics people are posting from Alex’s uncle’s boat. Ash just posted one of some crazy chocolate dessert with whipped cream and cookie crumbles. There’s another one of her with Derek. She’s sitting in his lap, and she’s got on a wide-brimmed hat, and her hair is braided in pigtails. I’m scrolling through Alex’s feed when I see a picture of Kat in a bikini with a captain’s hat on and a cigar hanging out the side of her mouth. She’s super tan too.

I pause on a picture of Alex and Kat. They’ve got their backs to the camera, and they’re dangling their legs over the water, cracking up over something. I’m glad she got to go on this trip. The old Kat would never have gone on vacation with any of those people.

I helped her pack the night before she left, and Kat kept saying how this was her first real spring break trip, how she’d hardly ever even left Jar Island. It definitely made me stop and think about how I’ve taken for granted the vacations my parents have taken us on—Paris, Hawaii, Japan, Korea, even just those weekend jaunts to New York. I doubt Kat’s ever been to New York. Rennie had never been before we took her. The next time we go to New York, I’m going to invite Kat. It’s her kind of city.

I snap my laptop shut and put on my favorite bikini, the one with the daisies. Then I grab an Orangina and a towel and head out to the patio. Nadia and her friends Janelle and Patrice are floating around the pool with the outdoor speakers on blast. It’s not that warm out, but the sun is bright and our pool is heated. Janelle and Patrice chorus, “Hi, Lillia!”