You in Five Acts(74)

I took a deep breath and looked at the screen.

I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU

Relief: it wasn’t from Mom. Less relief: It was an all-caps rant from Liv.

WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK, DIEGO???????

I drew back. What the hell was she talking about?

“What?” you asked. “Who is it?”

MY LIFE IS RUINED. HOW COULD YOU DO THIS???

what are you smoking? I typed. It was kind of a low blow, but also a legit question. I hadn’t confronted Liv about her partying since the night I dragged her home wasted from Dante’s friend’s place. And even then I hadn’t really pressed her on it.

FUUUUUUUCK.YOUUUUUUUU, came the reply. COME MEET ME NOW OR I’LL TELL JOY YOU MADE A MOVE ON ME I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD

“What?” you asked again.

“Uh, nothing,” I said, quickly clicking my screen dark, trying not to show my fear. “Family stuff.” What had happened to her? What had I done? My mouth was bone dry.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

You looked hurt, and I was trying to think of a better story when Ms. Adair came back into the auditorium alone.

“Joy, you can go get changed,” she called as she made her way down the long aisle. “I need to speak to Diego for a few minutes.”

“Great,” you muttered under your breath.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll tell you everything.” A new text buzzed against my fist, reminding me what a lie that was.

Once Adair and I were alone, she crossed her arms and looked at me expectantly.

“Phone away,” she said, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes, ma’am.” I tossed it back in my bag and clasped my hands in front of me like a kindergartner, pushing Liv out of my mind. It’s too bad I was so good at doing that.

“Diego,” she began, “I know you’re in an awkward position here, since you and Joy are—” she smiled, but it wasn’t kind “—close, but I need you to be honest with me. You know what happens up there tomorrow night determines your future, too, and you need a partner who makes you the best you can be, without a handicap dragging you down. So tell me. Truthfully. Selfishly. Can she dance it?”

I think I can admit now—and I hope you’ll forgive me—that I had a moment of pause. Not just because I knew Adair wanted me to look like I was thinking it over, either, but because I really needed to think it over. Of course you could dance it, and kick the shit out of it, I knew that. But I couldn’t fight the nagging feeling that maybe you shouldn’t. If something happened to you, I’d never forgive myself. And unlike me, you had a whole other life waiting for you, a big, thick envelope of a life just sitting there, begging to be opened. If I’d had that, I wasn’t sure I’d still be dancing like my life depended on it.

So there was a second of hesitation. But I didn’t let it show.

“Yes,” I said, looking Ms. Adair straight in the eyes. “She can do it.”

She pursed her lips. “All right, I’ll take your word for it. I just want to avoid the kind of disaster going on with the drama performance.”

“What?” I asked, my heart racing. I’d seen Dave just the other day, and things seemed to be going fine. Better than fine, even. He’d looked happier than I’d seen him. He even beat my ass at layups.

“You don’t know?” she asked, smiling slowly. “They found illegal prescription drugs in Olivia Gerstein’s locker this morning. She’s been suspended indefinitely.”

? ? ?


I bounced restlessly as I rode uptown on the 2, leaning on the door, my body trying to keep rhythm with the movement of the train. Liv was waiting for me on the same bench we’d sat on all those weeks before by the entrance to the 110th Street station at the top of Central Park. I didn’t need to ask why she was so far from home—I knew why she was up there.

I couldn’t believe Dante. We’d grown up like brothers, until my dad left and factions formed. But apparently none of that mattered. I still had the slingshot he’d given me on my seventh birthday, and he still had me in his pocket, without me even knowing. He’d wanted me to deal to Janus kids for years, calling me a * when I said no, not caring that it could ruin my life, leave me without a high school diploma, rotting in jail or even worse. With Liv, he’d found a loophole. I should have stopped it before it started, but I never really tried.

At the party, the night everything started to derail if you turn back the clock second by second—which is all I do, I’m living in rewind—Dante had swung an arm around my neck as I watched you walk away, teasing, “Yo, you gonna close the deal on that later, or what?” That really was all I had been thinking about—getting you alone, telling you how I felt, finally making my move. I was too tipsy and heartsick to care that much about what Liv did behind closed doors. She’d made a reckless choice, Dante had closed a deal, but it was my fault, really, and I was furious.

I wasn’t the only one.

“You f*cking *!” Liv cried when I crossed the street to where she was sitting. She leapt up and ran at me, and I had to think fast, basically pick her up and spin her just to keep her from scratching my face. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nostrils red and raw. Liv was a beautiful girl, but she’d lost at least ten pounds, and her face looked winter-gray even in the blinding sun.