"Hey, you're not still mad about Dustin and Drew are you? Forget them! They're retards." Heath said, giving me his puppy-dog look, which used to be really cute when he was in eighth grade. Too bad the cuteness had stopped working for him about two years ago. "And, anyway, we came all the way over here to bust you out."
"What?" I shook my head and squinted at him. "Wait. Turn those flashlights off. They're killing my eyes."
"If we turn them off we can't see," Heath said.
"Fine. Then turn them away. Uh, point them out there or something," I gestured out away from the school (and me). Heath turned the beam of the one he'd been clutching out into the night, and so did Kayla. I was able to drop my hand, which I was pleased to see had quit shaking, and stop squinting. Heath's eyes widened when he saw my Mark.
"Check it out! It's colored in now. Wow! It's like…like…on TV or something."
Well, it was nice to see that some things never change. Heath was still Heath—cute, but not the brightest Crayola in the pack.
"Hey! What about me? I'm here too, ya know!" Kayla called. "Someone help me get up there, but be careful. Let me put my new purse down. Oh, and I better take off these shoes. Zoey, you would not believe the sale you missed yesterday at Bakers. All of their summer shoes totally on closeout. I mean, serious closeout. Seventy percent off. I got five pairs for…."
"Help her up," I told Heath. "Now. It's the only way she'll stop talking."
Yep. Some things just didn't change.
Heath scooted around till he was on his belly, and then leaned down to offer his hands to Kayla. Giggling, she grabbed them and let him haul her up on top of the wall with us. And it was while she was giggling and he was hauling that I saw it—the unmistakable way Kayla grinned and giggled and blushed at Heath. I knew it as well as I knew I would never be a mathematician. Kayla liked Heath. Okay, not liked. She liked Heath.
Suddenly Heath's guilty comment about messing around on me at the party I'd missed made perfect sense.
"So how's Jared?" I asked abruptly, totally stopping K-babble's giggles.
"Okay, I guess," she said without meeting my eyes.
"You guess?"
She moved her shoulders and I saw that under her very cute leather jacket she was wearing the tiny little cream lace cami we used to call the Boob Shirt, because not only did it show a lot of cleavage, but it was the color of skin, so it looked like it was showing even more than it actually was.
"I dunno. We haven't really talked much the past couple days or so."
She still wouldn't look at me, but she did glance at Heath, who looked clueless—but that was really his only look. So my best friend was going after my boyfriend. Now that pissed me off, and for a second I wished it wasn't such a nice warm night. I wished it was cold and Kayla would freeze her over-developed boobies right off.
From the north the wind whipped around us suddenly, viciously, bringing an almost frightening chill.
Trying not to look obvious, Kayla pulled her jacket closed and giggled again, this time nervously instead of flirtatiously, and I got another big whiff of beer, and something else. Something that had been so recently imprinted into my senses that I was surprised I hadn't smelled it right away.
"Kayla you've been drinking and smoking?"
She shivered and blinked at me like a very slow rabbit. "Just a couple. Beers, I mean. And, well, um, Heath had one little bitty joint and I was really, really scared to come here, so I just had a couple tiny hits off it."
"She needed some fortification," Heath said, but he's never been good with words over two syllables, so it sounded like fort-fi-ka-shun.
"Since when have you started smoking pot?" I asked Heath.
He grinned. "It's no big deal, Zo. I just have a joint once in a while. They're safer than cigarettes."
I really hated it when he called me Zo.
"Heath," I tried to sound patient. "They are not safer than cigarettes, and even if they are that's not saying much. Cigarettes are disgusting and they kill you. And, seriously, the biggest losers at school smoke pot. Besides the fact that you really can not afford to kill any more brain cells." I almost added "or sperms," but I didn't want to go there. Heath would definitely get the wrong idea if I made a reference to his man parts.
"Nu uh," Kayla said.
"What Kayla?"
She was still clutching her jacket against the chill. Her eyes had changed from pitiful rabbit to sly, tail-twitchy cat. I recognized the change. She did it constantly with people she didn't consider part of her girlfriend group. It used to drive me crazy and I would yell at her and tell her she shouldn't be so mean. Now she was turning that crap on me?
"I said nu uh because not just losers smoke—at least not just once in a while. You know those two really hot running backs who play for Union, Chris Ford and Brad Higeons? I saw them at Katie's party the other night. They smoke."
"Hey, they're not that hot," Heath said.
Kayla ignored him and kept talking. "And Morgan smokes sometimes."
"Morgan, as in Morgie who's a Tigette?" Yes, I was pissed at K, but good gossip is good gossip.
"Yeah. She also just got her tongue and her"—K broke off and mouthed the word "clit"—"pierced. Can you imagine how much that must have hurt?"
"What? What did she get pierced?" Heath said.
"Nothing," K and I said together, for a moment sounding eerily like the best friends we used to be.
"Kayla, you're not staying on subject. Again. The Union football players have always been drug-happy. Hello! Please recall their steroid use, which is why it took sixteen years for us to beat them."
"Go, Tigers! Yeah, we kicked Union's ass!" Heath said. I rolled my eyes at him.
"And Morgan has clearly begun losing her mind, which is why she's piercing her…" I glanced at Heath and reconsidered. "Her body and smoking. Tell me someone normal who's smoking." K thought for a second. "Me!"
I sighed. "Look, I just don't think it's smart."
"Well, you don't always know everything." The hateful glint was back in her eyes.
I looked from her to Heath, and then back to her again. "Clearly, you're right. I don't know everything."
Her mean look turned startled and then flattened out to mean again, and I suddenly couldn't help comparing her to Stevie Rae, who, even though I'd only known for a couple days, I was absolutely, totally sure would not ever go after my boyfriend, whether he was an almost—ex or not. I also didn't think she would run away from me and treat me like I was a monster when I needed her the most.
"I think you should leave," I said to Kayla.
"Fine," she said.
"It's probably not a good idea for you to come back again, either."
She shrugged one shoulder so that her jacket fell open and I could see the thin strap of the cami slip down her shoulder, making it clear she wasn't wearing a bra.
"Whatever," she said.
"Help her get down, Heath."
Heath was generally pretty good at following simple directions, so he hoisted Kayla down. She grabbed the flashlight and looked back up at us.
"Hurry up, Heath. I'm getting really cold." Then she spun around and started marching off toward the road.
"Well…," Heath said a little awkwardly. "It did get cold all of a sudden."
"Yeah, it can quit now," I said absently, and didn't pay much attention when the wind suddenly stopped.
"Hey, uh, Zo. I really did come to bust you out."
"No."
"Huh?" Heath said.
"Heath, look at my forehead."