My mouth falls open. “Rennie!”

“Don’t be a spoilsport, Lil,” Rennie says, smiling at me. “Everyone has to play.” I narrow my eyes at her, but she just keeps smiling a sunny smile. “Hurry up and spin.”

“Come on, Lil. Just say yes or she’ll never leave you alone,” PJ says in a low voice, nudging me.

Reeve, who’s watching me with this bemused look on his face, starts pounding his fists on the carpet. “Lilli-uh! Lilli-uh!” Everyone joins in.

I glare at everybody. “God, you guys! So immature.”

Ashlin spins the bottle and shouts, “This one’s for Lil!”

It lands . . . on Reeve.

I can feel my cheeks heat up as our eyes meet. I’m about to say No freaking way when Reeve reaches out and adjusts the bottle so it’s pointing at Alex. “I think it was going more in this direction,” Reeve says with a lazy grin.

“Hey!” I object. “Interference!”

Alex clears his throat and jokingly says, “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but contrary to popular opinion, I’m not contagious or anything.”

“I—I don’t think that! It’s just, those aren’t the rules.” I don’t want to kiss Reeve, and I definitely don’t want to kiss Alex. In fact, I don’t want to kiss anybody. Maybe I don’t want to kiss anyone ever again. At least not for a long time.

Reeve raises an eyebrow. “I had no idea you wanted me so bad. I’m flattered, Cho.”

“That’s—that’s not what I’m saying, and you know it,” I say. I can feel myself getting flustered. Reeve’s always doing that. Twisting my words around.

Derek says, “Reeve, just kiss her already.”

“Guys, don’t pressure her,” Rennie says hastily.

Oh, now she’s looking out for me? Give me a freaking break.

Just for that, I’m doing it.

As I crawl to the middle of the circle, I can’t seem to get a good deep breath. I sit on my knees, and I keep my palms flat on the ground to steady myself. Reeve leans toward me oh-so-slowly, dragging out the moment for as long as he can. He’s grinning at me, that smug self-satisfied grin I hate. I feel myself start to panic, but I try with all my might not to shrink away from him. If I freak out right now, everyone will see it and wonder why, and I can’t have that. I have to be normal. I have to pretend I’m the same girl I was.

Reeve tips my face up, and that’s when something in his face changes. The grin drops and he’s staring into my eyes like he’s trying to puzzle something out. At the last second, instead of kissing my lips he plants a kiss at the top of my head, the kind my dad used to give me when he’d come in to say good night. I don’t know if I should feel grateful or insulted.

“No fair,” Ashlin says, shaking her finger at Reeve. “It has to be on the mouth! Those are the rules.”

PJ nods sagely and says, “Ash is right. Them’s the rules.”

“Give it a rest,” Alex says. “He kissed her.”

Reeve claps his hands together. “Who’s next?”

I crawl back to my spot. I just want to go home.

Loudly Rennie says, “It’s Reeve’s turn.”

“Yay for me.” Reeve rubs his hands together and spins the bottle. Part of me hopes the bottle will land on Rennie so I can get out of here faster, but another part hopes it won’t, so she doesn’t get what she wants. The bottle doesn’t land on her. It lands on Josh Fletcher, and everyone busts up laughing. “Come on, Fletch. Don’t be scared,” Reeve says. “I’ll do you like I did Lillia.”

“You’d better spin again, man,” Josh warns. “I don’t know where your lips have been.”

Reeve ends up spinning again, and this time it does land on Rennie. Grinning, he leans forward for a quick kiss. But Rennie has other ideas. She gets on her knees and inches across the circle until she’s right in front of him. She grabs a wad of his T-shirt and pulls him toward her. Then she kisses him like she wants to eat his face off. It starts close-mouthed, but a second later they are actually kissing kissing. She even puts her arms around his neck.

Everyone starts whooping and screaming and freaking out. It’s so sad and gross. Rennie’s making a total fool of herself in front of everybody. Especially Reeve. He already let her down easy. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to date her, but it only makes Rennie want him more. It’s pathetic.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

MARY

SENOR TREMONT IS LINING UP A BUNCH OF PLASTIC vegetables on his desk and asking for volunteers to role-play a scene at a Spanish marketplace, and all I can do is smile at Alex’s empty seat.

That night was maybe the most fun I’ve ever had. Sneaking out with Lillia and Kat, laughing our butts off, speeding through the darkness. When I got home, I crept back into bed and tried to sleep, but that was pretty much impossible. I just lay there in the dark, tracing the flowers on my wallpaper with my finger and thinking how this was even better than what I’d hoped to accomplish that first day. This isn’t just about Reeve. It’s about me, and it feels like fate or magic—the girls coming into my life, right when I needed them most.

Through the window I spot Alex getting out of a car. A woman—his mom, I guess—waves good-bye and drives off. I watch him run all the way to the main doors. I hear Alex’s feet pounding the linoleum, over Senor Tremont haggling with the girl sitting behind me over how many pimentos he can buy for three euros.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Senor,” he says, rushing in. “I had a doctor’s appointment.”

Senor Tremont frowns. Then he puts a hand up to his ear, pretending like he can’t hear Alex. “En español, Senor Lind. Por favor.”

Alex is halfway to his seat. He stops, his shoulders sag, and his eyes roll to the back of his head. I have to cover my mouth to keep in a laugh.

“Yo . . . yo soy . . . ,” Alex tries.

I lean forward on my elbows and cradle my chin in my hands. I really, really, really wish Lillia and Kat were here to see this for themselves.

Alex is trying to conjugate the verb “apologize” for the third time when the fire alarm goes off.

CHAPTER TWENTY

KAT

ONCE THE FIRE ALARM STARTS GOING OFF, I FLICK MY hand so that the cap of my Zippo lighter snaps closed. Just in time too, because I think I’m almost out of butane. Plus the metal case is blazing hot. I blow on it, jump off the radiator in the girls’ bathroom, and crouch down at the door. The top part of the door is wood, but the bottom is covered in thin slatted vents. I watch the hallway light get sliced by pair after pair of legs hurrying their way to the nearest exit. I hear one of the teachers say, “We didn’t have a drill planned for today, did we?” Another teacher says, “I think this might be the real deal.” They instruct their students to hurry along with urgent This is not a test voices.

Yeah. Hurry the eff up. I’ve got work to do.

I shrug off my book bag, slide my arms through the straps so that it hangs in front of my body, and open the zipper. Inside are the photocopies I made last week. I’ve also got a roll of masking tape I stole from the art room. I take that out and rip pieces off, sticking them on my arms so I can move fast.

Jar Island only has a volunteer fire department, so I figure it’ll take them at least ten minutes to get here. It takes one, maybe one and a half, for the school to empty. As soon as the coast is clear, I push open the door and start running.

The senior hallway will do the most damage, so that’s where I start, slapping up the photocopies every few feet. On classroom doors, on lockers, on the spout of the water fountain.

I know this is supposed to be Lillia’s revenge, but I have to admit, this feels pretty freaking awesome. Alex has tried calling me a few times in the last week. Not that I bothered to answer, or to call him back. He doesn’t deserve to ever speak to me again. That’s how it is with me—you do me wrong, you’re dead to me.

Except for Lillia. I’m making a temporary exception in her case.

At the end of the hall, I kick the door of the stairwell open and take the stairs two at a time, putting up copies as I go. The alarm is so loud, my ears are about to bleed. The emergency lights are giving off big bright flashes. I remember my brother’s friend Luke pulling the fire alarm my freshman year. He got suspended for a week, and he had to pay a big fine for wasting the volunteer fire department’s time. I hustle even faster.

When I reach the landing, I duck so I’m out of sight at the window, then sprint the rest of the way up to the second floor, where the freshman lockers are. Adrenaline pumps through me, and I feel like I could run forever.

I think about Nadia coming back in, seeing Alex’s face and reading his stupid poem, and being completely mortified. I doubt she’ll ever want to go for rides in his SUV again. I freaking love it. I love that Alex is going to get dumped by a freshman, that everyone in school is going to laugh at his corny ass.

I get another stretch of hallway done, though it takes me a lot longer this time because I have to stop and rip off pieces of tape.

Then I hear the sirens.

I don’t have much longer. Which sucks, because I’ve got more than half the school left to cover. So I screw the tape and just start throwing sheets everywhere like confetti. Which is way faster. I do the science wing and the English hallway. When I slide down the banister of the back staircase, I toss papers over my shoulder.

I’m just about on the first floor when a team of firemen burst through the doors. They’ve got their hard hats on, flashlights beaming, walkie-talkies crackling.

Luckily, I’m right in front of the auditorium. I duck inside and hide myself in the folds of the big American flag. A second later two firemen bound in. I hold my breath and watch their flashlights hit the walls, the ceilings, the stage.

They yell “Clear!” and duck back out into the hall, continuing their search for a fire.

They won’t find one, but Alex is gonna get burned.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

LILLIA

I DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TIME TO GO TO MY LOCKER AND get my jacket. The teachers were freaking out, pushing us along through the hallways like the building was really on fire. It’s super-bright outside, but it’s freezing, especially for this early in September. I’m shivering, huddled close to Ashlin, who puts her arm around me.

PJ says, “You want my jacket, Cho?”

I nod. “Yes, please!” PJ shrugs it off and hands it over. I put it on, and Ashlin zips me up, hopping from foot to foot. It smells as mildewy as PJ’s basement, but it’s better than nothing.

“Do you think there’s a real fire?” she asks me hopefully. “Maybe we won’t have enough time left for the quiz.”

We had a fire drill last week. This doesn’t feel like a drill. The teachers didn’t seem to know anything about it. I wonder . . . could this be Kat’s doing? She said she’d get those posters up, but even for her this is gutsy.

“Maybe,” I say as the volunteer fire truck comes barreling into the parking lot. Some of the freshmen start clapping and chanting “Let it burn! Let it burn!”

So juvenile.

We’re in the parking lot for another half hour while the firemen check out the building. I can’t feel my toes. The firemen finally come out and give the all clear, and the teachers start ushering us back inside.

I’m walking down the senior hallway when I see them. Our posters, with Alex’s smiling face and his poem right next to it—on lockers, on walls. They’re everywhere.

Alex has seen them too. He’s stopped short in front of a whole cluster of them on a set of lockers. Slowly he says, “What the . . .”

Reeve tears a sheet down and starts reading it out loud, doubling over with laughter. “Winter stars fall so I keep wishing. . . . I love the way you look in sweaters. Can we Eskimo kiss all night long? ’Cause your red ribbon has me tied up in knots!”

That doesn’t sound like the poem Kat was reading in the car. “The Longest Hallway” one.

I take down a sheet and read it over.

Wait.

Red ribbon?

*    *    *

It was Christmastime, my freshman year. My whole family was at Alex Lind’s house for their annual holiday party. Since we’d moved to the island full-time, Alex’s mom and my mom had gotten to be pretty good friends. They went to lunch together, shopping off island, that kind of thing.

The parents were downstairs drinking and talking and mingling by the fireplace. Elvis Presley was playing on the stereo, and us kids could hear it upstairs in Alex’s room. This was before he moved into the pool house. He used to have the whole third floor to himself. It was basically one big rec room, with beanbag chairs and a foosball table and a dartboard. For the party Alex’s mom had set up a table of kid food, things like chicken fingers and popcorn shrimp and mini pizzas, probably so we wouldn’t come downstairs and bother them.

The little kids, my sister included, were fighting over who got to play darts next. Nadia nearly got into a scuffle with an eight-year-old boy, a cousin of Alex’s, I think, and I had to break it up. Since Alex and I were the oldest, we were in charge. I hadn’t even wanted to come, since Rennie wasn’t going to be there, but my mom had insisted we go as a family.

Alex put in a DVD for the kids, and they quieted down for the most part. I was sitting at Alex’s desk, doing stuff on his computer and eating a Christmas cookie. It was a reindeer with a Red Hot candy for a nose. Alex was lying in his hammock a few feet away, strumming on a guitar. He wasn’t too bad at it. Out of nowhere he said, “Hey, cool headband.”