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Reeve’s friends, Alex and PJ and those guys, are doubled over, cracking up. But when I glance over at Mary, she looks upset.

“He’s making such a fool of himself,” she says sadly.Advertisement

I’m not sure why, but I feel like something’s slipping away.

“When is someone going to catch on? Maybe you should go get Senor Tremont.”

But then the music cuts off and the lights come on. Coach Christy is onstage in a red dress. It’s weird to see her dressed up. She usually wears gym shorts and a visor. Into the microphone she says, “Will Jar Island’s homecoming court please come to the stage?”

They file up onstage behind her. Rennie’s hanging on to Reeve like she can barely stand in her five-inch stripper heels. And from the way she’s smiling her cat-that-ate-the-canary smile, I know she thinks she has it in the bag. She takes the tie off Reeve’s head, puts it back around his neck, and straightens it. Of course Rennie wants the two of them to look picture perfect when they win.

I stand up straighter. This is my moment. I’d better enjoy it.

Coach Christy introduces everyone onstage, and then she opens up the cream-colored envelope in her hand with a flourish. “Jar Island’s homecoming king is . . . Reeve Tabatsky!”

Everyone screams and claps and stomps their feet like this is some big surprise. Coach Christy puts the crown on his head, and he is hamming it up, dancing around and moving his hands as if he’s holding glow sticks at a rave. He hugs Coach Christy with so much force that he lifts her into the air. She disentangles herself from him, smoothing down her dress and looking somewhat freaked out. She quickly says, “And your homecoming queen is . . . Lillia Cho!”

Oh, damn.

I don’t want to look at Mary, not after I told her it was cool, that I’d made sure Ashlin had enough votes to win. Honestly, I didn’t even think to count Lillia’s votes. I did see a bunch in there for her, but she’d said that she wasn’t going to be a factor, so I didn’t worry about it. Damn.

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Maybe things will be okay. Rennie lost, and Reeve’s as high as a kite. This can still work.

Onstage, Rennie’s mouth is hanging open. She’s not even mad; she’s just confused. Like, there must be some mistake. And poor Lillia is looking out into the crowd like a dazed baby deer as Coach Christy puts the tiara on her head.

Reeve sprints over to her, grabs her, and practically throws her into the air.

“Shit,” I say.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

LILLIA

IT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE ME. THIS ISN’T THE WAY IT was supposed to go down.

Ashlin is clapping. She doesn’t look disappointed, probably because she never ever thought she’d actually win. Rennie’s standing next to her, with this empty look on her face, this sad, empty look. Nadia rushes up to the edge of the stage, and she jumps up and down cheering for me and screaming my name. I reach up and touch the tiara on my head with a shaky hand.

Out of nowhere Reeve grabs me and lifts me into the air and spins me around like we’re ice-skaters. I shove him away from me and scream at him to put me down, but everyone is clapping and shouting so loudly, I don’t think he even hears me.

The rest of homecoming court comes down from the stage, Rennie last, and I’m left alone up here with Reeve. I search for Kat or Mary in the crowd, to try to find out what in the world is going on right now, but then someone dims the lights and the music starts. A slow song.

Reeve pulls me tight to him. I try to push him away, to create some space between us, but he just holds on tighter. I look up at him, and his pupils are completely dilated and he’s sweating. He says, “I voted for you.”

I think I heard him wrong, because he doesn’t sound like himself. His voice is far away and dreamy.

“Why are you so mean to me, Cho?”

“I’m not,” I say.

He reaches out and touches my hair, and I jerk my head away from his hand. “Your hair is so soft. Like, really, really soft. Shit. I don’t think I’m allowed to say that.”

Reeve spins me around so I’m facing the crowd again, and I spot Alex watching us from down below. His jaw is set, his eyes fixed on us.

Reeve keeps swaying me round and round in a circle, faster and faster. I finally see Mary, standing in the crowd. She’s biting her lip, her arms wrapped around herself.

“My heart’s beating so fast,” Reeve says, breathing hard. The lightness is gone from his voice, replaced by something lower and more labored, even though he’s smiling.

His heart is beating fast, so fast I can almost hear it. Feel it through his suit jacket.

I draw back. Reeve’s eyes are watery and unfocused. He’s scaring me. I don’t think he even knows where he is, much less who he’s with. He’s holding me so tightly, it’s hard to breathe. I feel light-headed. I’m going to faint, for real this time.

“You’re blurry,” Reeve mumbles, touching my face blindly.

“Reeve,” I say. “Stop.”

“Before . . . you asked about me and Ren. Now I want to ask you something. What about you and Lindy? What are you guys?”

“We’re friends,” I tell him and force a swallow. “That’s it.”

I expect him to say something cruel, the way he usually does when it comes to me and Alex. But it’s different this time. This time he lifts my chin, his fingers trembling. And he kisses me. His mouth is open and wet and warm. I try to push him away, but his hand is on the back of my neck pressing me toward him.

All I can think about is Rennie.

She’s going to kill me.

With all my might I push Reeve off me. He staggers backward a few steps, totally off balance, and I’m afraid he might fall over the edge. The DJ lowers the volume of the song, and everyone down on the gym floor goes silent. Reeve shakes his head, as if he’s trying to get a hold of himself. He starts walking toward me again, but his arms and legs don’t seem to be listening to his brain. “Oh, no,” he moans. He turns and gazes into the crowd, like he’s looking for somebody, and inches his way to the edge of the stage. “Sorry,” he says, shielding his eyes from the spotlight. “I’m sorry, Alex.”

Suddenly Reeve’s whole body tenses up. The color drains from his face. He whispers something.

“Big Easy.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

MARY

BIG EASY. BIG EASY. BIG EASY. IT DOESN’T MATTER how pretty I look tonight. You can put lipstick on a pig, but it’ll still be a pig. I’m Big Easy. pqdm.com