Get Even, page 24
“Oh, right. Wait, let me try that again.” He bowed his head, like an actor preparing for a scene, then whipped his face up, totally in character. “Aha!” he repeated. “But did you know that after she was kicked off the team, our very own student body vice president took over as JV captain?”
“Kitty?”
“And,” Ed the Head added, “did you know that Kitty was also failing algebra?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “And did you know that Barbara Ann was expelled because she was recruiting teammates for grade fixing?”
Olivia’s eyes grew wide. “You think Barbara Ann told Kitty about the grade fixing, and Kitty turned her in?”
Ed the Head threw his hands up in faux innocence. “I’m just saying, it’s an odd coincidence that now Kitty is the captain of the state-champion girls’ varsity team with scholarship offers from every Ivy League school on the planet, while Barbara Ann brews lattes at the Coffee Clash.”
Olivia couldn’t believe it. Kitty had turned in her friend and teammate. Had she done it intentionally to gain the captain’s position? Olivia thought back to their study sessions for the religion assignment freshman year. She remembered how affected Kitty had been by the whole scandal. At the time, she’d assumed it was because several of Kitty’s friends had been put on academic probation or flat-out expelled, like Barbara Ann. But maybe her reaction had been more personal. Maybe it had been guilt.
“Worth the price tag?” Ed the Head asked.
“Yeah,” Olivia whispered. “Thanks.”
“Awesome. You’ll be hearing from me.” He backed away and flashed her two finger guns. “I am considerably out of here.”
A cry went up as the band took the stage. There was a rush forward in the mosh pit, and Bree lost sight of Olivia and Ed the Head. Oh well. At least Olivia had been derailed from her search.
Devil Dan was the first one out, followed by Shane and Grizzly, with John trailing behind. He kept his head down as he picked up his bass and gave a few quick strums before getting into position. Without a word, Devil Dan counted off with his drumsticks and they launched into “Bangin’ Love.”
John attacked the opening bass line and Bree held her breath. Within two bars, the crowd went absolutely apeshit.
The rest of the band joined the song and the club literally erupted in movement and sound. The screeching guitars and vicious cymbal hits were deafening, and even Bree, veteran concert goer that she was, fought the urge to plug her ears with her fingers. The mosh pit writhed like a living, breathing organism. In the front, girls and guys alike were reaching their hands out toward Shane, who straddled his guitar with a ferocity that had always turned Bree’s insides to Jell-O. Usually, Bree couldn’t keep her eyes off him at a Bangers and Mosh show. But tonight she could only see John.
When the chorus kicked in, John and Grizzly joined with harmony, and every single person in the audience, including Bree, sang along.
Don’t you know I want you?
Don’t you know you know you want me?
Don’t you know you want my
Bangin’ love?
Don’t you know you need my
Bangin’ love?
As the song crescendoed to the finale, John reprised his solo bass line, then jumped up and landed the final note of the song.
The crowd exploded.
“Thank you!” Shane said. He took a swig of water from his bottle as the noise died down. “Thank you guys for coming out tonight. We’re so thrilled to be back at the Ledge, the best fucking all-ages club in Northern California.”
The audience roared in appreciation.
“We’re doing a mix of old and new tonight,” Shane continued. “If you haven’t noticed, we’ve got a new member of Bangers and Mosh to introduce. On bass now is Bagsie, who just threw down the wickedest rendition of ‘Bangin’ Love’ I’ve ever heard. Seriously, how epic was that?”
Again the crowd roared, even louder than before. John held up his hand in thanks, but looked totally and completely embarrassed by the attention. Bree wasn’t sure if she wanted to hug him or slap him across the face and tell him to man up.
“Bagsie and I have been working on some new songs, some of which we’ll be debuting tonight. So . . . yeah. Fuck it. Let’s play.”
The band started their second song—another classic Bangers and Mosh tune—but before Bree could enjoy it, she noticed a face coming toward her in the crowd. She was easy to spot: while everyone else was watching the band onstage, Olivia was aiming for the back of the club again.
One second Olivia was searching in an unfocused way, the next, her eyes were locked on to something in the corner. Bree was close enough to see the color drain out of Olivia’s face as her eyes grew wide and her jaw fell slack.
Shit.
Then, by some weird psychic connection, Kitty broke away from Donté’s tonsillectomy and looked toward the stage. She saw Olivia right away, and Bree watched the same look of horror overcome her.
“Olivia!” Kitty mouthed, her voice lost in the music. She broke away from Donté and ran toward her.
But Olivia didn’t wait. She swung around and disappeared into the crowd.
FORTY-EIGHT
BREE BROKE FREE OF THE CROWD IN TIME TO SEE KITTY FOLLOW Olivia into the ladies’ room. Thankfully there was no line as Bree squeezed in behind them.
“Olivia,” Kitty said. “I’m so sorry. I thought you knew.”
Olivia leaned close to the mirror and dabbed at her face with a paper towel. Her eyes were already red and overflowing with a flood of tears.
“Knew what?” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “That you’re boning my boyfriend?”
“I’m not sleeping with him,” Kitty said.
Not yet, Bree wanted to say, but she kept that little nugget to herself.
“I saw you,” Olivia said. Her lower lip trembled. “I saw the way he touched you. You can’t possibly tell me that you’re just friends.”
To her credit, Kitty was amazingly calm. “I won’t tell you that, because it’s not true. Donté and I are dating.”
Olivia gasped and a tsunami of tears cascaded down her cheeks. “How could you do this to me?”
“Donté said he told you about it at rehearsal and that you were okay with it.”
Kitty tried to touch Olivia’s arm, but she jerked away. “Don’t touch me!”
The door flew open, momentarily flooding the room with the ear-splitting sounds of the band, and Margot marched in. Oh, thank God, Bree thought. Margot would know what to do.
Margot pointed at Olivia. “It was you.”
Olivia swung around, gripping the sink behind her. “What are you talking about?”
“You took the photo,” Margot said. Her voice was more forceful than Bree had ever witnessed. “You were the one with Amber that night. You were the one who ruined my life.”
So much for an ally. “What are you talking about?” Bree asked.
Kitty seemed to know what was going on. She put a hand on Margot’s shoulder. “You mean the photo. The one that—”
“The one that precipitated my suicide attempt,” Margot said. She pulled up the left sleeve of her shirt, exposing several dark, parallel scars.
“Holy shit,” Bree said.
Margot laughed. “You didn’t know, did you?”
Bree shook her head.
“Yeah, well, I’m the crazy girl who tried to kill herself after an embarrassing photo circulated in junior high. A photo that up until a few days ago, I’d assumed was taken by Amber Stevens. Turns out, it was Olivia.”
No wonder Margot had kept DGM from going after Amber. She wanted that revenge for herself.
Olivia’s lip trembled. “I can explain, Margot. I swear I didn’t know—”
“Didn’t know that taking a photo of me naked and bound in plastic wrap would ruin my life?”
Olivia swallowed. “I didn’t know what Amber was up to. She said we were going to a party. Then she told me she wanted to pose for some photos in front of Rex’s bedroom window. I had no idea it was your house.”
“Sure you didn’t,” Margot said.
Kitty stepped between them. “Why didn’t you say something?” she asked Olivia. “Why would you keep Amber’s secret?”
Olivia laughed. “Oh, you’re one to talk about secrets. Were you ever going to tell us about Barbara Ann Vreeland?”
That name was familiar. “She was one of the students kicked out of school freshman year, right?” Bree asked.
“Yep.” Olivia turned to Kitty with a wide smile. “Do you want to tell them who was responsible for getting her expelled, or should I?”
Bree’s jaw dropped. “You blew the whistle?”
“I . . .” Kitty started.
“Holy shit,” Bree cried for the second time in as many minutes. “You totally did!”
Olivia’s eyes narrowed, giving her face a nasty Amber-like quality. “She threw a friend under the bus so she could be captain of the volleyball team. Makes you wonder what she’d do to us.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Kitty said. Her voice was flat. “I was failing algebra and my coach said if I didn’t go along with it, they’d kick me off the team. I had to do something.” She turned to Margot, then Bree. “I didn’t think they’d expel her.”
“Did you know she was involved before you narced?” Margot asked.
Kitty dropped her eyes to the floor. “Yeah. She was the one who told me about it.”
“See?” Olivia cried. “At least I didn’t know what Amber was going to do with that photo.”
“If you didn’t,” Margot said, “then you’re stupider than I thought.”
Olivia twisted the faucet on, hanging her head so no one could see her face reflected in the mirror. “I can’t believe this is happening. My life is ruined.”
“Yeah,” Margot said. “The same way you ruined mine.”
“Look,” Bree said, stepping up behind Olivia. Time to put years of listening to Dr. Drew to good use. “Your life isn’t ruined. You and Donté broke up. He moved on. It’s not that big a deal.”
In the mirror, Bree saw both Kitty and Margot wince.
“Not that big a deal?” Olivia shook her head. “How would you feel if she’d been making out with your boyfriend?”
Not again. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” This time, the words made her cringe.
“It’s not always about you, Bree!” Olivia said.
“Wait, I’m the drama queen here? Are you kidding me?”
“Stop!” Kitty held up her hands. “We can’t turn on each other.”
Bree couldn’t help herself. “Too late.”
“Enough with the sarcasm, Bree,” Kitty said.
Why were they trying to shift the blame to her? “I’m not the one getting the competition kicked out of school.”
Kitty raised her chin, clearly irritated by Bree’s accusation. “I told you, I didn’t know she’d get . . .” Her voice trailed off, then Kitty caught her breath. “Hold up. Olivia, how did you find out about Barbara Ann?”
Olivia squared her shoulders. “Anonymous tip.”
“I’m serious,” Kitty said.
“So was she,” Margot said. “Someone sent her a photo of you and Barbara Ann.”
“A photo?” Kitty asked Olivia. “In a plain manila envelope?”
“You got one too?” Olivia asked.
Kitty nodded.
“Try to keep up, Princess,” Bree said, exasperated at Olivia’s slowness. “We all got one.”
Olivia looked utterly confused. “But the other day in the lighting booth you said you didn’t?”
Bree shrugged. “I lied.”
Silence fell in the bathroom as the girls looked at one another.
“It could be any of us,” Margot said. As always, straight up and to the point. “Any of us sending the envelopes.”
“But why?” Bree said. “Makes more sense that someone’s fucking with us.”
“Who?” Kitty asked. “Who would know about our connection?”
Bree tilted her head. “The same person who killed Ronny and planted our card on his body?”
“Coach Creed,” Kitty said. “Or Rex, or Amber, or Theo, or John.”
John? “Hold up.”
Kitty ignored her. “Or Christopher Beeman, who literally could be anyone since we have no idea what he looks like.”
“Or one of us,” Margot said quietly.
Kitty nodded. “Or one of us.”
Bree couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You were the one who said we had to stick together.”
Kitty whirled on her, her face reddening by the second. “Then find us some proof, Bree, okay? Find proof that it’s someone else. You’re the one who went to school with Christopher. How convenient is it that you don’t remember what he looks like?”
Bree set her jaw. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“She’s implying that you’re protecting someone,” Margot said.
“It’s not John, okay?” She eyed Margot. “You want to know who’s the best candidate for Christopher Beeman? Try your new boyfriend on for size.”
The color drained out of Margot’s carefully made-up face. “Logan?”
Bree shrugged. “New kid in school, don’t know shit about him. Totally fits.”
Kitty glanced at Margot, who’d begun to tremble. “Theo,” she said. “Christopher could also be Theo. He was new last spring.”
The door handle turned as someone tried to get into the bathroom.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” Olivia said, gathering her purse from the top of the paper towel dispenser.
Bree rolled her eyes. “Shocking.”
Olivia ignored her. “But I’m out of here.” The tears welled up again. “I don’t want to talk to you ever again. Any of you.”
A knock on the door. “Hurry up in there!”
“But—” Bree started, then stopped dead.
A new song started. Grizzly’s lead guitar played a lonely strain of melody that was at once strange and familiar. The band joined in, and finally the vocals. But it wasn’t Shane’s voice this time.
It was John. And he was singing “The Promise.”
“But what?” Olivia’s hand was on the deadbolt.
“John’s playing that for me.”
Olivia sniffled. “Of course. He’s in love with you. Everyone has someone in love with them but me.” She threw open the door and dashed into the hallway.
Bree should have gone after Olivia, but she couldn’t. Her feet had a mind of their own.
She ran down the hall to the club, shouldering her way up to the railing in front of the bar. It was definitely John singing. He stood at the microphone in the blue glow of a spotlight. His eyes were half-closed, as if he didn’t want to look at anyone in the audience, his body tight and angular. But he sounded fabulous. It wasn’t intense like Shane’s vocals, or even ferocious like the way John played the bass. Instead, his voice was delicately plaintive over the revved-up punk version of the song.
“And if I had to walk the world, I’d make you fall for me. I promise you, I promise you I will.”
There was no way he could have seen her, the club was too dark and he would have been blinded by that spotlight, but Bree couldn’t help but feel like he was singing directly to her.
FORTY-NINE
KITTY SHOULD HAVE FOLLOWED OLIVIA OUT THE BACK DOOR of the club, grabbed her by the shoulders, and talked some sense into her. She was the leader of DGM, and it was her job to remind Olivia that they all needed to stick together.
The problem was, none of it was true. Kitty couldn’t trust them, not anymore. And they clearly didn’t trust her. The team was broken.
“What do we do now?” Margot yelled over the music.
Suddenly, Kitty didn’t care about the team, didn’t care about anyone but Donté. It was time for Kitty to put herself first for a change. “Go home,” she said.
“What?”
Kitty stepped into the hallway and shook her head. “It’s over.”
“You okay?” Logan asked when Margot made it back to him.
Margot nodded and forced a smile. Don’t Get Mad was no more, and she wasn’t sure how she felt. “Long line for the restroom.”
She turned to the stage, where John Baggott was crooning away at the microphone. Logan slipped his arm around her waist and held her close.
You want to know who’s the best candidate for Christopher Beeman? Try your new boyfriend on for size.
First Ed the Head, now Bree, both echoing a possibility Margot had already acknowledged. Logan could be Christopher Beeman.
Logically, she couldn’t dismiss the possibility. But even if he was Christopher, did it matter? Coach Creed had killed Ronny. All she needed to do now was prove it and then the entire nightmare would be over and it would be time to forget Don’t Get Mad, forget the girls and the missions and the wounds that would never heal. She had Logan now, and things would be better. Life would be better.
The song ended, and the crowd went wild. Shane leaned over to John and gave him a high five before he took his own microphone again. “How fucking awesome is this guy?” The audience cheered like maniacs. “And, ladies,” Shane said coyly, “I hear he’s single so, you know, there’s a chance for you after the show.”
The girls in the club screamed as if Channing Tatum had rushed the stage. One of them jumped up, threw her arms around John’s neck, and gave him a sloppy kiss.
“Exactly,” Shane said, as the girl bounced back into the pit. “Okay, last song, you guys. Thank you so much for coming out and supporting Bangers and Mosh!”
Just as they were about to start, the door of the club flew open, flooding the stuffy interior with a sharp blast of cold air, and Margot felt a chill race down her spine as the blare of dozens of sirens filled the air.
What now?
Olivia paused in the alley behind the Ledge. Her eyes stung from a mix of humiliation, shame, and smeared eye makeup, which only added to the deluge of tears. She leaned against the wall and, gritting her teeth, pressed the back of her head into the rough, jagged bricks. Olivia could have seen Amber going after Donté, or even Jezebel. But not Kitty. The only person less likely to try and date a friend’s ex was Margot.
