I close the door, and Kat’s jumping up and down, and Mary’s staring at the door.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I couldn’t wait until New Year’s Eve.”

“Screw New Year’s Eve! The ball dropped here and now, baby!”

I’m almost afraid to look at Mary. If this isn’t enough for her, I don’t know what else I can do. I feel like I’ve died a little inside.

“Oh my God,” she says, the words trickling out of her mouth like honey. “I felt it happen.” Mary focuses on me, then touches her hand to her chest. Her eyes flutter as she says, brightly, “I actually felt his heart break.”

I force myself to smile.

The girls leave my house late in the afternoon. By that time, the sick feeling that’s been inside me ever since Reeve drove away has turned into full-on nausea.

It makes my stomach lurch, replaying it in my head. The things I said. How cruel I was to him, how cold.

Mary and Kat played the whole thing out over and over to each other, mimicking Reeve in the deepest guy voices they could put on: “My mom’s expecting you.” I swear, they must have said that a hundred times, laughing harder and harder.

They wouldn’t have laughed if they’d caught a glimpse of him from their hiding spot. They didn’t have to see the hurt in his eyes. Not like I had to.

Right after Reeve drove off, Kat took my cell and placed it on our kitchen island, where the three of us could stare at it. She said they shouldn’t leave yet, because Reeve would definitely call before he got home. In fact, she said, we should all keep our voices down, in case he was circling the block.

Of course he wasn’t. He didn’t come back; he didn’t call. I knew he wouldn’t.

An hour later, Kat painted us a picture of Reeve stewing, picking up and putting down his cell phone like a tortured man. He’d surely call me after lunch. When that hour came and went, Kat changed her mind and said that I’d definitely hear from him before they had to go. As Kat rolled up her sleeping bag, she swore up and down that Reeve would totally text me before it was time for bed. Or tomorrow, at the absolute latest.

Kat put on her boots and loaded her stuff in her arms. Before she and Mary headed out the front door, she called out from the bottom of the stairs, “If he calls tonight, memorize every word so we can all have a laugh!”

As Mary slipped on her shoes, I held the front door for her. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did,” she said, tears shimmering in her eyes.

I swallowed hard and said, “You’re welcome. I’m just glad it’s over.”

I’m lying on my couch with a pillow over my face. I know it was my choice to get it over with, but now I’m wishing I had done it differently. Like I could have waited until I was at the open house. Alone, without an audience. I could have let him down easy. I could have said, I care about you a lot but I think we’re better off as friends. Kat and Mary wouldn’t ever have had to know the specifics, only that I’d done the deed as promised. Sure, he’d still be mad, but he wouldn’t have a reason to hate me. The thought of Reeve hating me . . . right now I can’t think of anything worse.

It’s only three o’clock. Reeve said himself that people stop in all day long at his family’s open house. If I hurry, I could still go over there and talk to him. Make him understand. We can’t be together, but I can still take back the terrible things I said.

I run upstairs and turn on the shower, dancing from one foot to the other until the water gets warm. But shoot, I don’t have time for a shower! My hair takes forever to dry!

I turn off the water and plug in my curling iron instead. While it heats up, I dash into my closet and throw on the royal-blue silk shirtdress I bought as a backup for college interviews. I pair it with my nude pumps and the string of mini pearls my dad bought for me when I turned sixteen. I curl the ends of my hair, and then put on mascara, a touch of pink blush, and a plain glossy lip.

I check my reflection in the foyer mirror before I run out the door. I look festive, feminine, and mature. Which is great. I want to make a good impression on Reeve’s mom. Who knows what she must think of me now, showing up hours late.

I’m about halfway to T-Town when I remember that I can’t go to his house empty-handed. I do a U-turn in the middle of the street, and a bunch of people honk, but I don’t even care. Milky Morning is already closed, so I go to the florist next door and have them wrap up their biggest red poinsettia in cellophane. It’s more of a centerpiece than a houseplant, the kind of thing you’d see in the lobby of a hotel. It’s oversized and set in a beautiful pot made to look like a vintage mirror. The thing costs over a hundred dollars with tax, but whatever. I ask the guy to load it in my passenger seat.

I get to Reeve’s house close to four o’clock. I’m relieved that there are still loads of cars there, so many cars there’s hardly anywhere to park. I pull across the apron of his neighbor’s driveway, completely blocking their minivan in. I’ll move my car as soon as I have a chance to tell Reeve that I’m sorry.

The plant weighs a freaking ton, but I manage to carry it up to his front door. I hear the party going on inside, people cheering at something on television. I set the plant down on the ground, run my fingers quick through my curls, and ring the doorbell.

Okay, Lil. Showtime. I’m nervous, but I’m excited, too. To make things right, to fix what I’ve screwed up. To feel like myself again.

The door opens, and it takes me a second to recognize the person who answers.

Rennie. She folds her arms across her chest. She’s dressed in a football jersey and a pair of leggings, bare feet, her hair pulled up in a sloppy bun at the tippy top of her head. I feel completely ridiculous and wrong in my fancy clothes.

“I can’t even believe you’d have the nerve to show up here,” she spits out.

“I need to talk to Reeve,” I say.

She lets out a harsh laugh. “You think he wants to talk to you? He’s through with you. He finally sees you for what you are. A f**king bitch.”

Helplessly, I look past her into the den, hoping he might see me standing here and change his mind. Or at least give me a chance to explain. But the den is full of boys, Reeve’s brothers and some other men I don’t know. Nearly all of them are wearing the same jersey Rennie has on; all their eyes are pinned to the television screen. Behind that is the Christmas tree, every single branch decorated. On the coffee table I see Rennie’s seven-layer taco dip, the one she always makes for sleepover parties in her mom’s blue casserole dish. And in the back of the house I see Reeve’s mom in a holiday apron and flannel slippers, stirring a big stockpot.

I call out Reeve’s name and try to push my way past Rennie, but she pushes me, so hard I stumble in my heels and almost fall backward. She says, “You’re not welcome here. Reeve hates you now just like I do.”

“He can tell me that himself,” I say, craning my head to see inside.

“He’s not downstairs,” Rennie informs me, as she slouches in the door frame to block my view. “We’re upstairs in his room.” She over-enunciates the “we’re” part to make absolutely sure I hear it. I hear it, of course, and my imagination goes wild. Of Reeve and Rennie lying in his bed, his head in her lap, her running her hands through his hair, and suddenly they start to kiss. Reeve knows exactly how to hurt me best, and so does Rennie. And I bet both of them wouldn’t hesitate to do it. “You should know better than to compete with me, Lil. You know I always win.”

I lift my chin. I’m not going to grovel at Rennie’s feet, like she’s the lady of the house and I’m a beggar off the street. “Tell him I stopped by.” I try to pick up the poinsettia to push it inside the house, but Rennie shakes her head and starts closing the door.

“They have a cat, and poinsettias are poisonous to cats.”

A voice behind her shouts, “Who’s at the door?”

Rennie calls out, “Nobody,” as it shuts in my face.

On my way back to the car, I tell myself that this is for the best. Reeve and I are done. I’m finally off the hook. And even though it’s a huge relief, I still cry my eyes out the entire way back home.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Kat and I are standing near the start of Lillia’s block. She’s on the phone with Pat. She’s been trying to get him on the phone for the last few minutes.

“Yo! What the hell! You’re supposed to come pick up me and Mary from Lillia’s, remember?” I can hear Pat’s voice on the other end. He doesn’t sound as chilled out as he was on Halloween night. His voice is sharper, more stressed. “Are you serious?” Kat makes an unhappy snort, and silently mouths to me that the car isn’t working again. Then she screams, “Call a damn mechanic, then!” into the phone. Pat shouts something back, and Kat hangs up on him.

“Fool needs to get his ass back to trade school.” She tucks the phone into her jean pocket. “I could try Ricky, but I think he’s working, and anyway only one of us can fit on his bike. We can walk back to Lil’s house and get her to drive us.”

“Or we could walk,” I suggest half-heartedly. I figure Kat will ixnay that plan right away because it’s far for both of us, and it’s kind of cold out. I don’t mind it but she doesn’t seem to own a proper winter coat. To fight the falling temperatures, Kat keeps layering on sweatshirts and thermals and her army coat. She’s practically bulletproof at this point.

“All right,” she says, “we can head up the State Road and split off near the high school.” She unrolls her sleeping bag and wraps it over her shoulders like a big cape. “We’ve got plenty to talk about anyway.”

So we start walking. At first we walk quick, but then we’re slow and leisurely about it, as if this were a summer afternoon. It’s pretty out. The sky is heavy with the threat of snow, and every so often we pass a house lit up with holiday lights.

The whole way, we go through Lillia’s decimation of Reeve. Second by second. Kat has a great memory; she remembers more details than I do. I was so nervous, hoping things would work out the way we’d planned. So I am her captive audience, clinging to every moment.

“I only wish I could have seen Reeve’s stupid mug when Lil shut him down!” Kat whoops. “Damn. You think Lillia’s parents have surveillance cameras?” She turns and faces the wind, and it blows all the hair straight off her face. “I feel like rich people always have security cameras. Plus, her dad’s a little psycho protective over her.”

“They might,” I say with a laugh. “We should ask her!” Kat takes out her phone and texts Lil. “Tell you what, Mary. If they do, I’m going to get you a copy of that shit on infinite loop, so you can watch the moment of Reeve’s heartbreak over and over and over again, whenever you want. Merry Christmas, baby. You’ve been such a good girl this year.”

“Uhh,” I say, and giggle. “Have I?” Kat laughs. “Maybe not by typical Santa standards, but you definitely deserve this.” She gets suddenly serious. “I hope this helps you. Makes things better.”

“It has, Kat. More than you even know.” As soon as I say the words out loud, they feel true.

Kat pumps her fists. Then she starts to sing, “Heartbreaker, love taker, don’t you mess around with me,” and her voice carries on the breeze. We pass a house where a man is up on a ladder, hanging lights, and he almost falls from the shock of it.

Hopefully, Lillia will text back, because I would have loved to have seen Reeve’s face too. Even so, I know it worked—my plan worked. Reeve’s heart is broken. There’s no doubt about it.

The whole thing reminded me of that day down at the docks, when Reeve told all those guys that he wasn’t my friend. My heart broke that day for sure.

Now we’re the same.

“Oh, hey. How old is your aunt Bette? Does she have any dresses from the twenties?”

Kat, she’s not that old! She’s only forty-six.”

Kat guffaws. “My bad. I just thought she might have some vintage stuff you could borrow for New Year’s Eve.”

I swallow. “You don’t mean Rennie’s party?”

“Um.” Kat looks blankly at me for a second, then starts shaking her head. “Here’s the thing. I overheard someone talking about the bouncer password. Everyone at school will be there. I thought it will be fun to crash. She won’t even notice us.”

“What about Lillia? She won’t want to go there.”

“We’ll convince her. What else is she going to do?”

When we get to the high school, Kat waves good-bye and heads toward T-Town. I pick up the bike path and head home.

I can feel it, inside. The peace and the quiet where the rage used to be. It’s like the lowest of low tide; all that bad stuff has gone out to sea. I suck in a deep breath, and it hits me like a ton of bricks.

I can go home now. Not to Middlebury. Home home. Back with my parents.

Now that Reeve’s gotten his, now that I’ve got closure, what’s keeping me on Jar Island? I love Lillia and Kat to death, obviously, but they’re both out of here next year. It’s not like I’ve made a ton of other friends. It’s the perfect time to say good-bye to Jar Island. I came, I saw, I conquered. I’ll tell my parents to come here for New Year’s, and I’ll leave with them.

There’s a twinge at my heart, thinking about leaving Aunt Bette behind, especially the way the house is. And the way our relationship is. But maybe she can come with us. Why not? She could use getting off this island as much as I could. Mom and Dad could hire someone to work on the house while it’s empty, get it back to tip-top shape by summer.