Every Ugly Word Page 5

  More giggling.

  “Shhhhhh . . .”

  A moment later, Karyn stepped partially into view.

  She had her back to me and was half hidden by one of the floor-to-ceiling shelves. A large hand curved around her waist, and I froze. Karyn went in for the kiss and made a tiny noise that threatened to bring up everything I’d eaten in a week.

  I was watching Matt and Karyn make out.

  My heart thumped against my ribs. I couldn’t breathe. But when Karyn pulled Matt closer to her, I realized it wasn’t Matt at all

  It was Finn.

  I gasped audibly, and they broke apart like rubber bands under tension. They turned to look at me, horror washing over their faces.

  Oddly, I was reminded of the moment Dad walked out on Mom and me—how, in some ways, it was great, because I wouldn’t have to worry about them fighting anymore, or Mom blaming me for his moods. But there was also the sick feeling that came with knowing it was wrong and would never sit easily.

  Finn was almost vibrating with anger. “You stupid b—”

  “Actually, I’m pretty sure I’m the most intelligent person in this room,” I said. “If I was making out with my best friend’s girlfriend, I’d do it in the privacy of my own home.”

  While Karyn looked on in stunned silence, Finn strode forward and grabbed my elbow. “If you say one word . . .”

  My heart pounded against my ribs, but there was a calm that came with knowing that, for once, I had the upper hand. “Let. Me. Go.”

  He didn’t move. For the span of three breaths, we just stood there, locked in place. There was a strange kind of honesty in the moment. I felt great. Certain. Solid. I didn’t care if Finn finally cut loose and pummeled me senseless. When I regained consciousness, I was still going to tell Matt that his girlfriend was cheating on him with his second-best friend.

  But then the corners of Finn’s lips tipped up. His shoulders relaxed, and his fingers loosened on my arm. “Go ahead, do it.”

  Karyn let out a strangled cry.

  I smiled. “I will.”

  “He’ll never believe you,” Finn said.

  “Wanna bet?” I reached for the strap of my bag where it was slumped on the floor.

  “Sure. But just keep in mind, if you tell him, I’ll show him this.” I looked up as Finn pulled something out of his satchel: a piece of white, lined paper, folded into a rectangle. With the name Matt written on it.

  In my handwriting.

  My purse scattering in the parking lot on Friday night. Finn kneeling to “help” . . .

  I gasped and grabbed for the note, but Finn yanked it away easily. He held it over his head, far above my reach. Karyn moved to stand behind him. But her eyes were wide and her hands were clasped together so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

  “Finn . . . please . . .” I knew I sounded pitiful, but I didn’t care. If Matt ever saw that. If anyone ever saw it . . .

  He clucked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk, C. Sloppy leaving your precious letter sitting around where anyone could find it.”

  “Who else has seen it?” I demanded, my voice shaking.

  “Only Karyn. For now.”

  I glanced at her. Her face was pale but the ghost of a smile played on her lips.

  “You know, it’s funny. I thought about just e-mailing it out so everyone would know how sick you are in the head. Glad I kept it for a rainy day.” Finn stepped right up to me then, leaned in so I could smell the peppermint on his breath. “You and your ugly face already screwed up my life once. I’m not letting you do it again. You say one word to Matt, and he’ll find this in his locker.”

  I blinked. “But . . . but you could do that anyway.”

  “I guess that’s a risk you’ll have to take,” he snapped.

  I felt like I was being torn in two. Matt needed to know about this. But if that letter got out, my life would be over . . .

  I had to get it back. No matter what.

  Finn tucked the letter back into his bag. “Something to keep in mind.” He winked, then turned away, taking Karyn with him. He didn’t look back, but Karyn glanced at me over her shoulder, a mix of anger and unease on her face.

  I should have said something. Should have told them what I thought of them both. But instead, I stood glued to the site of what was supposed to be the turning point, the place where everyone—where Matt—should have learned the truth about who Finn and Karyn really were. So why was I the one left staring at the ground, wishing I’d done things differently?

  Chapter Eight

  Doc frowns and makes another note on his pad, then stares out from behind those suspiciously clear lenses.

  “What?” I say, harder than I intend.

  He glances at his notes, then back at me. “Did you consider telling Matt about the letter?”

  I cough to cover a cold laugh. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  I hope the expression on my face conveys my incredulousness. “Because this isn’t the movies, Doc. In the real world, when a seventeen-year-old guy gets a love letter from his best friend, he doesn’t suddenly decide to love her back. He runs screaming.”

  “Possibly,” Doc concedes. “Or perhaps he learns something about who his real friends are.”

  Whatever.

  “So not telling him . . . did it make things better?”

  I cross my arms, my scars burning beneath my hoodie. “Maybe for a second.”

  But then, as usual, things just got worse.

  •••

  I managed to avoid talking to Matt in art that day, but he followed me to my locker at lunch. I tensed, worried that the truth was written all over my face. I’d spent what was left of our morning break in a handicapped bathroom calling for Older Me, desperate to ask her what I should do. But she never came.

  Matt leaned up against the locker next to mine and didn’t even say hi. “No more excuses, Ash. You’re coming to the rec room with us.”

  “No,” I said, loudly enough to turn several heads. I pulled a book I didn’t need out of my locker to give myself something to look at. “Are you cracked?”

  “Don’t you trust me, Ash?” he said quietly.

  He tipped his head down so we were almost nose to nose. His brilliant blue eyes locked on mine, and my heart sank. He trusted me. And I was keeping a secret that hurt him. My resolve to get the letter back before I told him crumbled. Whether he read my letter or found out I’d lied about his girlfriend cheating, he was going to hate me anyway. Maybe it was better to tell him the truth and pay the consequences. At least then Finn and Karyn would pay too, right?

  I cursed Older Me for disappearing just when I was in crisis.

  “Look, Matt,” I started. But before I could say another word, the silver piglet arrived and launched herself into his arms.

  “There you are!” she squealed. “What are you guys talking about?” Her voice was bright, but she kept darting wary looks at me.

  “Hey, babe.” Matt’s gentle tone, combined with the way he put his arm around her, clearly reassured her that I hadn’t told. Her face lit up, and Matt took her hand as we turned together down the hallway. She clutched his arm like it was a life preserver.

  “Ashley’s going to start coming to rec room with us,” he said, like she might get excited about it.

  “I never said that,” I muttered, as we passed out of the English wing and into the main hallway.

  “Don’t make her do something she’ll hate, Matt,” Karyn said casually. “I wouldn’t want to walk into a room where no one wanted me, either. I don’t blame you, Ashley.”

  Oh, no freaking way.

  Game on.

  “Actually, maybe I will try it.” I cut Karyn a glance. “Once.”

  “You will? Awesome!” Matt high-fived me. Karyn stiffened and had to rearrange her face when he looked at her. “What made you change your mind?”

  I shrugged. “I had this big realization lately that made me rethink everything.”

  “What was
that?” Matt looked genuinely interested. Karyn glared at me.

  I glared back. “Nothing too interesting. I guess I just realized that no one else is better than me, you know? So why should I let them win? It kind of feels like if I do, I’m helping them, well, cheat.”

  Matt frowned, and Karyn sucked her cheeks in.

  “At the game of life,” I added.

  Matt looked puzzled.

  “Karyn knows what I mean,” I told him, gesturing toward her.

  “You two talked?” He looked down at Karyn, a hopeful smile on his face that made me love him and want to punch him in the nuts at the same time.

  Karyn’s gaze—hot enough to weld steel—slid from my face to meet his, morphing into self-conscious adoration in the process.

  After a beat she replied, “Only for a minute,” then blinked prettily. She sounded, of all things, humble.

  I seethed. How did she do that?

  When we reached the rec room, Matt’s phone buzzed, chirping the opening beats of “She’s So Honey.” I was the only person who knew that was the ringtone he gave his mom. He’d once admitted he was embarrassed that she called him after practice all the time, so he gave her a ringtone the team would think came from a girl.

  “I’ve gotta take this,” he said without a smile. I noticed he didn’t tell Karyn who it was. “You guys go in. I’ll be there in a sec.”

  I opened my mouth to say I’d wait, but he’d already turned his back and was striding down the hall.

  Karyn peered at me expectantly. “Well? Are you coming?” The half smile told me she didn’t think I’d do it without Matt. And I definitely didn’t want to. Then again, the little chat with Karyn had given me a taste for torture. Maybe this was my chance to make Finn squirm, too.

  “After you,” I said.

  “Oh, no, I insist.” She stepped back to give me a clear pathway to the door and folded her arms.

  I took a deep breath and turned the handle.

  I’d only been in the rec room twice before. The carpet was threadbare and the faded furniture looked like the early nineties got drunk and threw up. Kind of smelled that way, too. The blue walls had faded to almost-gray behind a long, low mirror and several motivational posters—most of which had been altered. My favorite: “REFUSE TO BE ROADKILL! DON’T GET IN A CAR WITH A DRUNK DRIVER.” Underneath someone had scrawled Take a few pills and fly home instead.

  Cam O’Neal, the basketball center, was flopped on a beanbag, his long legs stretching across the floor. Brooke and Terese sat on a love seat on either side of Eli, who was fiddling with his lucky necklace. Karyn made a beeline for the long couch and plopped down next to Finn, then looked straight at me.

  I had to hand it to her, she had lady-balls.

  “Take a picture, C.” Finn sneered.

  Heat rose in my cheeks. I was sorely aware that the volume in the room had dropped. Brooke exchanged a questioning look with Karyn, who rolled her eyes. I shuffled toward an empty chair. The old vinyl was split and it looked like it might give way if you sat down too fast, but it was set slightly apart by a coffee table on one side and a magazine holder on the other. Perfect. I settled myself in the old chair carefully and pulled a browning banana from my bag, letting the conversation pick up and swirl around me.

  “. . . should have seen it man, it was a thing of beauty.”

  “. . . and then she said—you won’t believe this!—she said I was the one who needed to go on a diet!”

  “. . . McPherson is going to kill me. He’s already given me an extension once . . .”

  “. . . it’s like she’s practicing.” That was Karyn’s voice.

  I paused halfway through taking a bite of the banana.

  “Yeah, or advertising.” Finn laughed.

  I looked over and met Finn’s flinty gaze. Then I bit off the banana, hard.

  Finn winced and grabbed his crotch. “Oh, bad idea, C. No one wants your teeth involved.”

  Several chuckles rose from those seated nearby.

  “Should have told that to the chick who circumcised you, Finn,” I snap.

  A chorus of “Oooooo” went up in the room, along with mocking laughter. Finn threw his arm along the back of the couch—behind Karyn—and looked like he was about to say something else. But then, Matt walked in and dropped into the seat next to Karyn, still staring at his phone. He put his arm on the couch behind her shoulders, just as Finn yanked his back to his side.

  Karyn wiggled closer so she was practically in Matt’s lap. The banana turned to sawdust in my mouth.

  Matt leaned forward. “So, Finn, are we on for tonight?”

  “Yep.” Finn nodded. “Mom and Dad headed out this morning. Keg’s arriving at seven.”

  “You’re coming, right, Ashley?” Matt said.

  Karyn inhaled sharply. Finn snapped his head around to look at Matt. Matt looked back, expressionless.

  “To Finn’s house?” I said, my voice climbing. Matt nodded. “I don’t think . . .”

  “Don’t you think she should come, guys? Karyn?” Matt prompted.

  “Yeah, Ashley,” Karyn said through clenched teeth. “You should definitely come.”

  Finn looked at her like she’d grown a third head.

  “Um . . .” I was about to say no freaking way, when it occurred to me: This could be the perfect chance to get the letter back. Finn’s parties were notorious. Surely, in that kind of chaos, I could find five minutes to search his room?

  “Okay, then. You convinced me!” I said brightly. And despite the twist of fear, it was funny to watch the entire room go still.

  Geez, people. I’m unpopular. Not an alien life-form.

  Finn slumped back in his seat. The little muscles at the back of his jaw thumped like arteries on overload. His chin was shoved forward and he stared at me with an edge that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

  Matt smiled. “Great. We can give you a ride. Right, Kar?” Matt nudged her.

  “Right!” She made it sound like a swearword.

  “Cool,” I said.

  “Excellent,” Finn muttered.

  The bell rang, and everyone got to their feet. Brooke stomped on my bag as she huffed across the room toward the door. Of course.

  “Sooo-rry,” she sang without looking back. Matt and Karyn left together, hand in hand. Finn wasn’t far behind. I let Eli and Cam pass, then pulled my bag over my shoulder and prepared to enter the fray out in the hallway.

  “Are you suicidal? Finn’s house?”

  The voice was so unexpected that at first I thought someone was still in the room with me. But when I spun around, I saw Older Me in the mirror behind the couch, staring at me like I’d just decided to pickle small children. Her face was pale, and there were dark smudges under her eyes.

  I glanced around to make sure I was alone, then whispered, “Matt will be there. It’ll be fine.”

  Her expression said otherwise, but I didn’t have time to argue. I exited the room with a grim smile.

  She was right. It was a huge risk. This could all end very, very badly.

  Or, for once, I just might win.

  Chapter Nine

  “If your older self told you not to go to a party, why didn’t you listen?” Doc asks, without looking up from his notes.

  Duh. “I had to get the letter back. I couldn’t let Finn use it to turn Matt against me.”

  “Yet, your older self—”

  “Wasn’t always what I would call forthcoming,” I mutter.

  Doc tips his head. “So, then, wouldn’t it have made more sense to listen to what advice she gave?”

  How can I answer that without giving too much away?

  “Here’s the thing, Doc. If my life—my situation—has taught me anything, it’s that it doesn’t matter who’s giving advice—or even what advice they give. What matters is how much you trust them.”

  Doc’s brow furrows. “You didn’t trust your other self?”

  I scoff. “More like my other self didn’t
trust me.”

  “Interesting.”

  For a moment the only sound in the room is his pen rolling across the paper. But then he drops it and looks up, as if something has just occurred to him.

  He watches me until I start to wonder if I’ve ruined everything. “So, given everything that has passed, and knowing everything you know now, if you could go back to that day, what would you have done differently?”

  I sit, silent.

  What would I have done? That’s easy: I wouldn’t have gone.

  •••

  Finn lived just outside town, in an imposing stone structure with pointed eaves that had always made me feel small and messy. Fairy lights pricked the gathering dark, strung through the trees and bushes lining the house. The front door was wide open, and thumping bass and the babble of voices drifted into the gray light of dusk.

  Matt parked on the grass just across from the door. He ran around to open both Karyn’s door and mine at the same time. But it was her hand he took to walk toward the house. I reluctantly followed them, feeling like the puppy Eli had accused me of being.

  Being inside Finn’s at-once-familiar-yet-strange house took me back to when I was twelve, when Matt, Finn, and I would hang out together. The entryway still smelled like Mrs. Patton’s favorite cinnamon candles, and there was a framed photo of Finn on the wall with a hairline crack down the glass; the boys had knocked it over one time when they were wrestling. But some things had changed, too—like the stairs. They were hardwood now, and the walls of the living room were a soft blue.

  “Matt, you’ve gotta come see this!” called Eli, who wore his lucky necklace over a gray T-shirt emblazoned with the words GOT MILF? He motioned Matt and Karyn into the living room, where music blared and several of Matt’s teammates stood huddled around a phone, no doubt watching someone make an ass out of themselves on YouTube. Opposite the living room was a farm-style kitchen, where Finn stood messing with a keg. Layla Jameson and Caitlin Grace stood on either side of him, red Solo cups in hand, touching his arms and laughing at everything he said.

  Then Finn looked up, saw me, and sneered. “Hey, C.”

  Layla smirked and pulled out her phone. She was the unofficial class paparazzo. No doubt my face had just appeared on every form of social media known to man, with the hashtag #losercrasher.