Chapter 5. Reed
Reed
“Bro, where the hell did Kira go?” I shout at Santiago over the music blasting through the halls as we wind our way through the packed ground floor.
If it was crowded when we got here, it’s verging on out of control now.
Even though I gave her a hard time earlier, I’m still amazed Tessa pulled it off.
Or did she? I can see her having the initial idea, but organizing a party like this, ordering a keg, that seems beyond her.
If she did do it, though … what a legend.
“I don’t know. I lost track of Kira a while ago. She said there was someone she had to talk to.”
“Who?” A pang of jealousy rears its head, but only for a moment. Whatever Kira and I once had is gone now.
“I don’t know, man. You know Kira, she does what she wants.” Santiago shrugs.
This is true. Santiago and Kira have been two of my closest friends since middle school.
I met Santiago at the skate park in sixth grade while we were practicing ollies, a passion that didn’t last long for me.
I’ve always been better tinkering with my hands than pulling stunts.
Now I remote control BattleBots to perform tricks—much more my speed.
Kira came along a year later. She was the only person who responded to the flyers we put up in the cafeteria to start our band, The Undeniables.
We’ve been playing music together ever since.
Which reminds me. “I hope my guitar’s okay. I should have dropped it off at home before coming here.”
“It’s going to be fine.” Santiago’s hand lands reassuringly on my shoulder, like he has a clue. It was stupid of me to bring it, and we both know it. If anything were to happen to my dad’s guitar, I’d never forgive myself. He didn’t just play it. He made it. And now it’s all I have of him.
As we push through the crowd toward the front entrance, Tessa is descending the stairs from the second floor. She’s alone. If I want to try again for a reset between us, this might be my moment. She brushed me off before, but maybe that was because Brandon was around.
I’m about to tell Santiago I’ll be right back when Tessa comes to a stop, focused on two people tussling at the base of the stairs. Tilly Sanderson’s in a heated argument with some short redheaded guy in slouchy jeans and an IT’S ON LIKE DONKEY KONG T-shirt.
“No. How many times do I have to say it?” Tilly’s eyes are red. Has she been crying?
“You’re sick and don’t know what you’re saying. I’m getting you out of here.” The guy tugs on Tilly’s arm as Tessa rushes down the remaining stairs to step between them.
I can’t quite catch what Tessa says next—it’s hard with the group of screaming freshmen in front of me. I nudge Santiago, nodding toward the entrance. “You seeing this?”
“Who’s this asshat?”
I keep watching them.
“This doesn’t concern you, Tessa.” The creep shoves Tessa aside, knocking her into the wall, and begins pulling Tilly toward the door.
“Carl, what part of ‘It’s over’ don’t you understand?” Tilly yells, and heads turn.
I start to push my way through the sea of humanity before my mind can catch up.
“I am trying … to … help you.” The guy, Carl, emphasizes each word through gritted teeth, his fingers digging into Tilly’s arm. She tries to pull away, but his grip is strong.
“Get off her!” Tessa tries to pry him loose.
Something feral snaps inside me as I wrestle my way to the middle of the foyer and step between Tessa and Carl. “You heard her, asshole. Back off.”
Carl spins around as Santiago arrives beside me, and though he’s playing it cool, electricity radiates off him like a live wire you’d avoid in a storm.
“I don’t think you’re wanted here,” Santiago states matter-of-factly.
“Go.” Tessa scowls at him.
I pull the front door open and wait. I don’t break eye contact with Carl, though he glares right back, his fingers flexing.
There’s a moment when I’m sure it’ll come to blows.
It’s not usually how I roll with the robotics club, and if you asked me yesterday, I would have laughed at the idea of throwing a punch.
But here, in this moment, I’m 100 percent sure I could—and would.
Carl seems fairly certain, too. His eyes dart around the circle at all of us like he’s a cornered animal.
When his gaze lingers on Tilly, she flips him off.
He takes a step toward her, seething, but Santiago places his body in the way. It’s subtle but clear. Carl’s eyes flash at the challenge. “Whatever. I was trying to do you a favor, bitch.” He heads out the front door instead.
“Yeah, keep walking!” Tilly hollers, before bursting into tears.
Tessa pulls her into a hug. “I’m so sorry that happened.”
“You okay?” I ask, the insanity of the situation catching up to me. My pulse is skyrocketing. Did Carl and I almost … get in a fight?
“I was about to claw him in the face. What a jerk.” Tilly steps out of Tessa’s arms to wipe the tears from her eyes. “I sure know how to pick ’em.”
Santiago and I exchange a glance. What was Tilly ever doing with that clown?
“Well, good riddance,” Tessa says, as Carl exits the front gate. “Why was Creepy Carl even here?”
Creepy Carl. Okay. That tracks.
“Look around, Tess. Who isn’t here? This isn’t a high school thing anymore.” Tilly’s right. There were a few party crashers from town earlier, but now that it’s gotten later, I don’t recognize half these people.
“Should we go?” Tessa asks. “You don’t look so good.”
“In a minute.” Tilly fans herself. “The French club wanted to take photos against the wall of mirrors in the ballroom, but I got … interrupted.”
“Sure, just text when you’re ready,” Tessa says as Tilly takes off down the hall.
There’s a loud commotion from the other side of the foyer as the varsity swim team runs through yelling something about making a human pyramid in the backyard.
“Dude, we should do a human pyramid!” Santiago seems to have snapped back into party mode.
“That’s a hard pass,” I reply.
“Your loss. Come on, everybody, pyr-a-mid!” Santiago’s voice trails toward the back exit, a small crowd racing behind him.
“Careful, there’s a whole bunch of poison ivy out there!” Tessa calls after them, shaking her head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you all.”
Tessa and I are left standing together awkwardly. Say something, genius. I shove my hands in my pockets while her eyes scan the room, looking for a rescue.
“So, whose funeral?” I ask at last, cringing that this was the best I could come up with.
“What?”
“The dress.” I gesture toward her ensemble: the black lace, the short skirt, the emo vibes.
“Of course you’d make fun of something I worked so hard on.”
“It seems a little macabre for a graduation party, that’s all.”
“Your SAT words don’t impress me. And I’ll have you know the little black dress never goes out of style.”
“Well, what does impress you, Tessa Sinclair?” I hold my breath. You. You impress me, Reed. Is this what I expect her to say? You got into Harvard. You beat me in the battle for valedictorian. You sexy, sexy beast.
But instead, she just squints. Her gaze travels over my kitesurfing shirt from my cousin’s company in Spain, past my dark jeans to land on my Converse.
And … my shoe’s untied. Great.
“You’re being strange.” Her head cocks to the side.
“No, I’m not.” I stoop to quickly tie my laces.
“Yes, you are. Must everything be an argument?”
“By that logic, wouldn’t I be acting strange if I agreed with you?”
“Fair point.” She lifts her chin and walks away.
“Wait, did you agree with me? Because now you’re being strange.” I follow her farther into the house.
“Leave me alo—” She comes to a screeching halt, jaw on the floor. We’re in some kind of fancy parlor, or at least it used to be, where across from us on a tattered couch is Brandon—Tessa’s Brandon—only he’s full-on making out with Kira.
What the hell?
“This is the girl from the jazz ensemble?” Tessa whispers, so low I almost don’t catch it.
“Trouble in boyfriend land?” I drawl, pretending it doesn’t sting just a little. What do girls see in him?
“We broke up.” A hot flush overtakes Tessa’s cheeks and runs down her neck.
“Oh?” I feel strangely unsteady on my feet. Is this because I dared her to come here?
We both stare at Brandon and Kira from across the room, almost hypnotized. They still have no idea. I’m weirdly detached, like I’m watching some nature documentary about the mating habits of pygmy marmosets. Her leg is hitched up over his. I can practically hear the little sucking noises.
“He looks like he’s rebounding okay,” I observe.
“Yeah, with your girlfriend,” she bites back.
“She’s not my girlfriend. She can kiss whoever she wants. And apparently, she wants your sloppy seconds.”
“Don’t call him that. Brandon’s a very nice guy.”
A nice guy? That’s what Tessa wants? How about a guy willing to tell her the truth?
“Looks like he’s passionate, too. Check out those moves, clutching her thigh, running his hand through her hair.
Is he biting her neck? Damn! You know, I never saw him exert that kind of passion with you. Maybe it was you.” I shrug playfully.
I know Tessa likes a little challenge. Come on, prove me wrong.
“Shut up.” She suddenly finds something fascinating on the floor to inspect.
Is she actually hurt? Tessa knows this is how we roll. I never worry about her feelings because we talk to each other like this all the time. But she does seem broken up about it all. “Maybe we should make out over here to make them jealous,” I mutter.
“Yeah right,” she scoffs, then tilts her head up. “Wait … you’re serious?”
Our eyes meet for a beat too long. “No.”
My gaze drifts back to Kira. At least someone is having fun tonight.
“Oh my God, of course. You’re still pining for her.” A bark of laugher flies from Tessa’s mouth. “Four years and you never could close that deal, could you, Reed?”
“I am pining,” I confess, searching her face for any indication she understands. Tessa’s biting her lip again, sending a flash of warmth over my skin. I turn away.