Kasey Screws Up the World (7 page)

“Way to pick on someone your own size.” I traced the sketches of the cruise ship drawn in a bubbly, cartoon style. “They’re really good.”

“Thanks. But all this means is you better be nice to me, otherwise I’ll do one of you.”

“That sounds great!” I slid the book across the table to him.

He clucked his tongue. “Until you remember that all superheroes have alter egos. I already know yours, so cross me and I’ll divulge your secret.”

He flipped through the sketchbook and pulled out a sheet of paper from a pocket I hadn’t seen. He slid the folded sheet of paper across the table to me.

It said: “285 29328 12632 47 153952 94552927: 9’4 1312 1 569413 737 289521 285 7993 8634957 2891 352259 91 1753913.”

“You have to decipher it. It’s how us CIA operatives pass secret memos to one another. So our teachers… I mean, enemies don’t discover the info.”

I slipped it into my notebook, trying not to let my face reveal how much I liked these games.

After breakfast, Finn and I dropped Hayden off by my sister. She was asleep when we arrived, glistening in the sun. Coconut tanning lotion wafted off of her as she snored.

Hayden shrugged and lay down on my chair. “She’ll figure out I’m here when she wakes up.”

Finn interlocked his fingers in mine as we headed to the elevators, and it took a superhero amount of willpower not to burst into a victory dance right there. “So, where to?” he asked.

All I could think about were the talent show try-outs later. But that was Lara’s thing, her spotlight. I racked my brain about the activities I read in the daily itinerary. “Um, napkin folding?”

He squinted at me. “What are you, eighty?”

“Oh no, did the C.I.A. blow my cover?”

He coyly stared at my chest. “Nah, your boobs aren’t saggy enough to be eighty.”

I scoffed and let go of his hand, crossing my arms over my chest so he couldn’t stare any more.

He shuffled to keep up with me. “That was a compliment.”

I stopped and glared at him, hands on hips. “You shouldn’t be staring at my chest.”

“You’re right. There’s not much to stare at.”

My mouth flew open. I ran forward and pressed the button for the glass elevator three times, knowing it wouldn’t make it come any faster, secretly hoping it got stuck on the way down. I didn’t know why I wasn’t more offended. Mostly, I was flattered he even bothered to look.

“Kasey, wait up! You know I’m just kidding.”

I turned around and met him in the eye. “Maybe that’s why I didn’t get into the club last night. Not enough cleavage.” My shoulders relaxed.

“We don’t need fake IDs. We need tissues.”

“Okay.” I waved him off. “Enough about my boobs. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Why? It’s kind of my favorite subject.”

The elevator arrived, saving me from the conversation. I stepped inside.

He followed. “I like you all fired up.”

“You call this fired up? You don’t know me at all.” I shook my head at him. “And you said you worked for the C.I.A. Liar.”

He pressed the button for the R level. The elevator descended into a dark tunnel below the lobby. “That’s because I only know about Victoria Cruise.” He waved his arm over me. “This Kasey disguise is quite good. You have me fooled.”

“Where are we going?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“My room. Wanted to practice with the tissues.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. Part of me wanted to take him up on that offer, but another part was too busy being a good girl. “Uh…I don’t—”

“Calm down.” He brushed a piece of hair out of my eyes. “I have something I want to show you.”

I raised my other eyebrow at him.

“Not that!” He nudged my shoulder with his. “I promise, this is all PG.”

The elevator door dinged open, revealing a hallway with black marble floor and wood panel walls. Finn kept quiet as he led me. I wanted to think of something to say, but nothing clever came to my head. It seemed I could only be sarcastic with him when provoked. “Where are you taking me?”

He stopped in the middle of the corridor and pushed me against the wall. The wooden panels felt cool as they brushed my arm. He propped his hands up by my neck and ensnared me. I didn’t want to move a muscle. He leaned in close. My eyes closed, and I braced for a kiss.

Instead he leaned into my ear and whispered, “Be patient, Vicky.”

“That’s Victoria to you.”

He turned his body to keep walking, but before I knew what I was doing, I pulled him back to me so that his chest slapped against mine. Once I had him there, I waited for him to make the next move. He just watched me with a smile playing on his lips.
I could do this.
Standing on tiptoes, I raised my chin, cupped my hand on the back of his head, and pressed my lips against his.

His mouth moved against mine and his hands rubbed down my sides before he broke away. The kiss made me shiver all over.

“You’re a bad girl.”

I gave him innocent puppy dog eyes. “I thought a little PG-thirteen couldn’t hurt.” I peeled myself off the wall and clasped my hand in his again. He led me to the end of the hallway and stopped in front of a door.

“We’re here.” He nodded toward the wall.

Above the door, a large sign illuminated the hallway a shocking pink.
PARADISE: Teen Disco.
In smaller letters a sign beneath it read:
Seventeen and under.

“You and me. Dancing. Tonight.” He brushed the bangs out of my face. “Screw those losers in their adult bar. We can have much more fun.”

My stomach dropped. “Can’t wait.”

It was the first lie that seemed like the truth.

Displaying 2 out of 7 comments.

Lonnie
said…

Hmmmmmmmmm. This post is interesting. Very very interesting.

Ali
said…

*popcorn*

I USED TO BE able to hide at school, invisibility by way of unpopularity. The dance team girls would wave to me in the hallway but everyone else generally ignored me. Now, as I bypassed a cluster of girls on my way to my Spanish classroom, they whispered in hushed voices. When I glanced in their direction, they clamped their mouths shut, slammed their lockers, and moved on. Except one glanced back at me before leaning into her friend to report her findings.

My neck prickled as I imagined these strangers sitting at the computer, reading the most intimate details of my life.

A wave of snickering laughter nearby made me twist the doorknob to my Spanish classroom so hard, the door came flying toward me. I slipped inside and let go. The slam of the door behind me made my teeth clench.

I spotted Lonnie at the back of the room and the tension eased from my neck. He hadn’t been in any of my classes besides lunch on Schedule A and B days and I’d skipped C yesterday, which made this my only chance to have a friend in class. Unfortunately, English Lit with Denise didn’t count.

Now that I knew I definitely wouldn’t be getting any sort of dance scholarship to college like Lara, I had to actually count on my grades to get me in. Which meant I should be sitting in the front of the room like a kiss up instead of lounging with the slackers in the back. But then I’d be alone.

I commandeered the seat next to him and rifled through my backpack, searching for my Spanish textbook. The only one in there was Western Civ. Only four days into the school year and already my backpack was as messy and unorganized as my life.

“Nine A.M.?” Lonnie said out of nowhere, making me jump. The Western Civ book slid from my hands and smacked onto the floor, right next to Lonnie’s acoustic guitar case emblazoned with the words
Property of Manhattan Preparatory
. He was in a band called Dyslexia, but they spelled their band name backwards—Aixelsyd—which always confused random patrons at the coffee shop where they used to play on Friday nights.

They didn’t play anymore.

He didn’t bother to help me pick up the books. I felt equally relieved and disappointed.

“It’s already ten thirty. Remember, you had gym at nine?” I straightened and pressed the back of my palm to his forehead. “You feeling okay?”

“I’m not asking the time.” The corners of Lonnie’s lips quirked upward.

And then it hit me. “Oh! You weren’t supposed to figure that out.” I avoided his eyes.

Lonnie stroked his chin with his fingertips. “Interesting. Very interesting.”

Chatter ratcheted up to maximum capacity as the other students tried to squeeze in their conversations during the last minute before the bell rang. A few people at the front of the classroom craned their necks to look at me. One guy raised his eyebrows at me a few times in succession and I knew he was probably imagining the kissing scene. Imagining that I might be interested in reenacting it with him. This wasn’t exactly the spotlight I wanted. The infamous girl who screwed up her sister’s life and now exploited it for all to see.

“Thoughts?” I asked.

Lonnie ran a hand through his shaggy bangs. “Well, I hadn’t really thought about it until now.”

“And?” I watched him out of the corner of my eye, unsure what I wanted his answer to be. But then I reminded myself what I
needed
it to be.

“I have a lot to think about.”

After class, I picked up my backpack while Lonnie grabbed his guitar. “I’ll meet you at lunch. I have to drop this off in the music room first.” He patted the guitar case.

“Pfft, do it after. It will make an excellent companion in the cafeteria. All the girls will be swooning, trust me.”

“Fine, woman.” He followed me into the hallway.

I sidestepped around a few slow walkers idling in the middle of the hallway. Didn’t they know it was illegal to walk slowly in NYC? What were they, tourists?

When we rounded the corner toward the cafeteria, we turned directly into Ali and Denise’s path. Of course. I immediately stopped in my tracks, torn between fleeing and facing them head on. Ali made the decision for me as she stomped right up to us. Denise hung back, swaying in the middle of the hallway as if she couldn’t make up her mind which direction to go. Finally, she squared her shoulders and matched Ali’s gait stride for stride until they blocked our path like a guard rail.

Lonnie popped his collar. “Ladies, stop following me around. Seriously. It’s getting ridiculous.”