The Heartbreakers (17 page)

Rule 21:
You must always look beyond extraordinary in the company of The Ex.

The next weekend, Kelly got a call from Morris at the animal shelter asking her to come in an hour early. She'd agreed, but the loss of an hour was throwing her completely off schedule.

“Where are my crappy clothes?” she yelled up the basement stairs.

“You have
special
crappy clothes?” Todd appeared at the top of the steps. “I thought all of your clothes were crappy clothes.”

“Ha-ha,” she muttered as she picked through three laundry baskets full of clean clothes. Her mother always had the laundry done. But this week, she'd been busy putting together a baby shower for one of her friends, so the laundry was behind. Kelly had only thirty minutes before her shift started. That wasn't enough time to wash and dry her crappy clothes. Well, crappy as in she only wore them to the shelter, but they were still okay clothes. Just a pair of old jeans
and an old Abercrombie & Fitch T-shirt. Crappy, but still fashionable.

“Whatchya doin'?” Monica asked as she made her way down the basement steps. She was still in her pajamas, a pair of shorts and a tank top that said
BRAT
across the front in gold glitter. Her sandy-blond hair was in a tight French braid.

“Looking for my clothes.”

Monica went to the overflowing dirty clothes hamper. “These ones?” she said, holding up a pair of jeans that had dog hair all over them.

“Yes.” Kelly sighed, plopping her butt on the floor. She'd already looked in the hamper. How did she miss them? Monica brought the jeans over. “Thanks.” Kelly held them up in front of her. There was a mixture of golden dog hair and black cat hair, dirty paw prints, something crusty on the knee (probably dog food) that had dried like a rock. She couldn't wear those, no matter how dirty her job was.

She ran upstairs and rummaged through the bottom of her closet. Finding nothing but a pair of holey boxers, she went to her dresser next and opened the pants drawer. She pulled out a pair of drawstring khakis that she wore last in sixth grade, when she was as big as a house.

Glancing at her clock, she realized she didn't have time to screw around anymore. She got into the pants and tied the drawstring tight around her waist. For a shirt she wore the black one her mother had bought at Goodwill. It was an ‘N Sync shirt. Her mother was so out of touch with the present-day. She'd thought Kelly would love the shirt since she used to love the band. Yeah, like in elementary school.

But, today the shirt would suffice. She didn't have anyone to impress anyway. She'd switched days, so she and Will
didn't work together. Today was going to be a quiet, relaxing Sunday at the animal shelter.

The baying of puppies, twenty-three of them to be exact, was starting to give Kelly a headache. So much for a quiet, relaxing afternoon at the animal shelter. After several weeks' worth of work, animal control busted an older couple for running a puppy mill.

The twenty-three puppies were now safe in the holding room, but there was still a ton of work to be done. The vet was giving each animal a checkup. They all had to be cleaned and fed. On top of that, Kelly still had all the other dogs to attend to.

“I'll go call someone in,” Morris said, heading off to the front desk.

Kelly barely noticed him leave. There was a black Lab mix running around her legs, nipping at her heels. She scooped him up and scratched behind his ears, trying to settle him down. It worked. He was so settled he peed on her.

“Oh!” She put him on the floor, but by that time he had already done his business. Of course. His siblings were running in circles now, chasing after each other. Using some paper towels, she cleaned up as best she could since she didn't have another shirt with her. And why not? It wasn't the first time she'd been peed on. She kept meaning to throw an extra set of clothes in her car for this very reason. As soon as she got home, she was putting together an emergency animal shelter outfit and throwing it in the trunk of her car.

“Dr. Burne?” Kelly said. “Are you done with the black Labs?”

“Yes.” He pushed the sleeves of his plaid shirt up before grabbing another puppy. “You can get them settled in the kennel.”

Thank God.

The timid, all-black female was easy to catch. She'd hardly moved since arriving. The other female, who had a white spot on her toe, was more rambunctious than her sister, but with a little luck, Kelly was able to grab her next and get her in the kennel.

The two remaining boys were probably going to be trouble. Right now they were running the perimeter of the holding room, barking at the other dogs and getting everyone riled up. Their long nails clicked along the concrete floor.

Just as she dove to corner one of the puppies, Will walked in looking extremely good in a pair of worn jeans and a long-sleeved brown shirt. “Hi,” he said, giving her a crooked smile. “You look like you've been struggling. Let me get them.”

She stood, smoothing the front of her pee-stained shirt. Hair hung in her eyes as she watched him. With slow steps, he came up on one of the puppies, then lunged at it, scooping the puppy up in his arms.

“Easy,” he said to Kelly. “You just have to be patient.”

Grumbling, she let
him
deal with the puppies while she moved on to the adult dogs. A husky mix barked as she neared, accidentally tipping over both his food and water bowl in his eagerness to get her attention.

“I'm coming,” she said, unlatching the door. The husky lunged at her, dirty paw prints now running up the shirt.
“Down,” she scolded, pushing the top of his head. The husky obeyed but whined.

Today was just swirling right down the drain, getting worse and worse by the minute.

“So, how have you been?” Will asked, coming up behind her.

“I've been fine.”

Will grabbed the broom and started sweeping out the inside of the kennel. “I haven't talked to you in a while.”

“Yeah.”

“Have I done something wrong?”

She glanced over at him as he leaned on the broom handle, watching. Why today, of all days, did she have to be so unkempt? Dog pee, paw prints, an ‘N Sync T-shirt?

“No,” she answered. “You haven't done anything wrong.”

“Good.” He smiled, flashing that smile she knew he used to get the upper hand in a situation. It usually worked, too. “Come out with us tonight. We're going to Emerson's for dinner.”

“Who's ‘we'?”

“My brother. Jessie and Dan. April.” He shrugged. “It's nothing formal.”

She was so stressed after a crappy day that all she wanted to do was hang out with friends and relax. And Emerson's had the best chicken sandwich in all of Birch Falls.

If she treated the outing like they were friends, it wouldn't be such a big deal. Would she be breaking The Code? It wasn't like she was jumping back on the Will bandwagon. Hanging out with some different people sounded like fun and that's what one of the rules suggested: Do group activities with friends—both girl and guy friends. Was that rule four or five? It was so hard keeping them all straight. She'd yet to
make her journal for The Code, which, now that she thought about it, might be the reason why she didn't know The Code by memory.

Maybe it was time to make her Breakup Code journal? She also had Spanish homework to do tonight. As soon as she got home, she'd do both tasks.

“All right,” she said. “I'll go.”

Will smiled again. “Great. Meet us at Emerson's around six.”

Ding.

Raven looked up from the issue of
Blender
in her hands to her computer screen. A new email blinked, waiting for her attention. She laid the magazine down and scooted into her computer chair.

She was expecting Sydney or Alexia. Instead she read the screen name, Ace23, and her heart tripped in her chest.

Ace23 was Horace.

She knew that because she'd found his profile on MySpace, which listed his Instant Messenger user name and other things. His love of music and his amateur band that didn't have a name yet. And that his favorite movie was
Lost in Translation
and his favorite TV show was
American Idol
and…

Hmmm…maybe she was crossing over the line from curiosity to stalkerosity.

Hey,
she typed back.

Ace23:
hey how r u?

Ray:
fine. how did u find my user name?

Ace23:
i asked ben, who asked alexia, who gave it to me. i went to alot of trouble to find ur user name.

Ray:
ben as in daniels?

Ace23:
yeah

Why would Ben ask Alexia? They weren't even friends, were they? She'd have to ask Alexia later.

Ray:
so what's up?

Ace23:
i need to ask u a huge favor.

The fact that he needed her for something made her grin unexpectedly. The only time Caleb needed her for something was when he wanted to make out.

Oh, great, she just thought about her past with Caleb, which was against Rule 10. She grabbed hold of the four-leaf-clover rubber band and let it snap. “Ewwou.” She rubbed beneath it quickly, trying to stop the stinging sensation. Was Alexia getting off on torturing them?

Ray:
what's the favor?

Ace23:
i can't tell u yet.

Ray:
y not?

Ace23:
i'm afraid if i tell u right now u'll say no.

Ray:
okay, that doesn't sound good. u want me to join ur cult or something?

Ace23:
ha-ha. no.

Ray:
give me a clue and maybe I'll say yes.

Actually, she was already leaning toward saying yes, but it was fun to tease him. Besides, a clue couldn't hurt.

Ace23:
it has 2 do w/ music.

Ray:
u want 2 start a folk band and u need me 2 play the banjo?

Ace23:
close.

Ray:
all right, i'm curious. what do u want me 2 do?

Ace23:
i knew i could count on u. be at my house at 6?

Ray:
sure, as long as there's no ritual involved.

Ace23:
promise, no rituals, and ray?

Ray:
yeah?

Ace23:
thanks

Ray:
ur welcome.

She signed off. The grin grew wider and then she couldn't turn it off. How cool was it that Horace IMed her for a favor? Not that she was going to allow herself to get overly excited. Well, a little excited. It was cool that he thought of her, whatever the favor was.

The clock said 4:09
P.M
. She hurried into the bathroom to check her reflection. Angling her head, she checked her hair. It was iffy. She hadn't showered yet today. Best get in.

Rule 8:
Take three months and only do the things you like to do. You are not to accommodate any male for any reason.

Rule 12:
You must never date a friend of The Ex
.

The first thing Kelly noticed when she walked into Emerson's Pub was not the smell of fried food or the sound of jazz blasting from the neon-lit jukebox. What she noticed first was Brittany. And then Mr. Daniels's deep baritone voice asking the waitress to take back his scotch because he'd asked for it on the rocks and his was rockless.

Both of these observations had Kelly inwardly groaning.

Brittany, obviously, wasn't her favorite person and Mr. Daniels was hard to deal with. Sitting next to him was Mrs. Daniels. Three square tables had been pulled together to accommodate the large group of people. There was enough room to seat a good ten people, but Brittany's chair was so close to Will's, Kelly was sure they were breathing the same air.

Kelly inhaled deeply and went over. “Hey,” she said, taking the seat next to Ben. It was the safe seat. Ben made her feel comfortable because he was nice and always had something to say. That meant she didn't have to pretend to be chatty or sit in silence while Mr. and Mrs. Daniels ignored her, focusing instead on how wonderful Brittany was.

“Hey, Kelly!” Ben said.

“Kelly,” Will greeted her, pulling a few inches away from Brittany, which made her furrow her eyebrows.

“Hi,” Kelly said again.

“So nice of you to join us, Kelly,” Mr. Daniels said. “Albeit late.” He smoothed a hand over his neatly trimmed beard. Although it was a casual Sunday dinner, he was dressed as if he was about to enter the courtroom, in an expensive black suit and red silk tie.

Mrs. Daniels was in a matching pantsuit, her hair freshly highlighted and styled. She rubbed her ruby red lips together as she checked her watch.

“Sorry,” Kelly said. She could have told them that Will said six o'clock and that her watch said 5:54
P.M.
but the Daniels weren't about to accept any excuses. Kelly often wondered how Ben survived his family. He was so laid back and carefree, as if he'd been raised by a wildly laissez-faire family.

Kelly swallowed, trying to stifle her embarrassment, and looked around at the other faces at the table. She knew April and Dan and Jessie, but the last guy, the one with the green polo on, golden hair hanging in his face, he was unfamiliar.

“Hi,” he said, thrusting his hand across the table. “I'm Breckin.”

Breckin? What kind of a name was that? Probably his last name was something like Jagger or Carswell.

“Breckin.” She smiled, shaking his hand. His skin was soft, softer than hers even, and she was a girl. “Breckin what?”

“Waverly,” he said, pride affecting his tone.

That name sounded familiar.

“It's nice to meet you,” she said, pulling her hand back and tucking it in her lap.

“Breckin's in the Birch Falls Historical Society with me,” Will explained.

Mr. Daniels cleared his throat. “Breckin goes to Waverly. A fine school. I tried to get Will to go but to no avail.”

Right, that's where Kelly knew the name. Waverly was the private school forty miles north of Birch Falls. It was super expensive to attend and hard to get into. Obviously, Breckin Waverly was an automatic admission, since his family founded the place.

“He's a real piece, huh,” Ben whispered in her ear and she burst out laughing. The whole table went silent and everyone stared at her.

“Sorry.” She stifled the laugh, giving Ben a look.

“What?” A crooked grin spread across his face.

“I think its about time for us to go,” Mrs. Daniels said. “Come on, honey. Let's allow the kids some time to hang out without parents watching over them.”

Mr. Daniels handed Will a credit card. “Treat all your friends tonight.” He stood up and buttoned his suit jacket. “Your mom and I are going back to the office to get some work done. Don't stay out too late tonight, boys.” His eyes lingered a bit too long on Ben, as if the message were really for him.

Everyone said good-bye to Mr. and Mrs. Daniels as they headed out. Kelly was secretly thankful they were leaving. Will's parents scared the crap out of her. They were intimidating, had high standards, and they obviously didn't care much for Kelly. What had they thought of Brittany? They hadn't said much to her, and Kelly wondered if their ignoring her was a good or bad sign. At least Brittany hadn't been chastised for being late.

The waiter came up and passed out menus. Most everyone at the table, except for Breckin, knew what they wanted since they had the menu practically memorized. Kelly usually got the chicken sandwich, since it was low cal and oh-so-delish.

When the waiter came back she ordered the usual with a Diet Coke while Will and Breckin grilled the waiter on what kind of mayo was used, full fat or light? Were the hamburger buns white flour or wheat?

“It's bread, dude,” Ben said, chomping on a piece of ice from his water.

“Benjamin,” Will said, frowning. “It's not just bread.”

“Whole wheat is better for you,” Breckin said.

Kelly had to agree with that. She was always health-conscious, but still, the way they were quizzing the waiter on every little detail about the meals was getting a bit tedious.

The waiter shifted around nervously, answering all the questions, but Kelly could tell he was getting annoyed. She didn't blame him. Finally, Will settled on the chicken sandwich, and Breckin the Cobb salad.

While they waited for their food, Breckin and Will discussed important things—college application essays and the state of historical sites.

“This is painfully boring,” Ben whispered.

“I agree.”

“You aren't seriously still seeing my brother, are you?” he asked, hiding behind his glass of water. “I mean, it's cool if you are, but, wow, totally
uncool
if you are.”

“That doesn't make any sense.”

“Neither does dating my brother.”

“Ohhh.” She scrunched up her face. “I walked right into that one.”

“That you did.”

“Well…we're not really seeing each other.”

“He's practically in love with you.”

Kelly frowned. “No, he's not. He's constantly with Brittany. He blew me off that night after the art show…”

“He uses Brittany for show. You're for real, he just won't admit to it.”

Flicking her eyes down the table, she caught Will watching her. He smiled then looked away. Brittany noticed the exchange and scowled at Kelly.

“Why did you just tell me all that if you don't think I should go out with him?”

“Because you have a right to know and make your own decision about it.” He cocked an eyebrow before sipping from his water and setting it down. “But it's worth repeating…it would be uncool if you were still with him.”

“I don't know what's going on,” she admitted.

The food came, and Kelly ate in silence while conversation buzzed around her at the table.

What was that saying, exactly, if Will's own brother thought he was undateable? It was saying a lot. Coming here now, it hadn't been about Will. She didn't want to get back with him, but now, knowing that maybe he did care for her?
No…it didn't change anything. There were no butterflies, no giddiness. She was over Will. Somehow, some way, her feelings for him had lessened in the two months since the breakup.

Apparently, The Breakup Code was working.

Finished with her sandwich, Kelly excused herself and went to the bathroom. On her way out, she noticed a familiar face in a booth along the wall.

Drew.

She caught his eye and waved, expecting nothing more than a wave in return, but Drew slid from the booth, leaving his dad alone at the table, talking on his cell.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Here with some friends.” She nodded at their table near the front door.

“Did you just get here?”

“No. Actually, I'm just leaving.” Thank God.

Drew shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, shoulders lifting uncomfortably. “Would you…uh, mind if I left with you?”

Kelly frowned. “What about your dad?”

“He hardly knows I'm here. He's been on his phone the whole time.”

Kelly couldn't help but detect a note of anger and maybe disappointment. “Yeah, sure. Let me go say good-bye.”

They headed over to the table. Ben gave Drew a guy handshake and they started talking about sports or something.

“I'm leaving,” she told Will, then turned to Breckin. “It was nice meeting you, by the way.”

Breckin flashed his expensive smile and stood. “Would you mind if I called you sometime?”

The rest of the table went silent watching her, including Ben, which was almost unheard of. He was hardly ever silent.

“Um…” Her face felt hot, but her fingers were ice-cold. Nice of him to put her on the spot. “Actually,” she took in a breath and looked straight at Will as she said, “I'm happier being single right now.”

Will's expression went still.

“But thanks.”

She grabbed Drew by the arm and said, “Let's go.”

Horace's house was on the outside of the Birch Falls city limits, where the houses were far apart and the backyards were as big as fields. His was a two-story farmhouse with a wraparound screen porch. It reminded Raven of one of those storybook houses, with the yellow siding, white shutters, and a cobblestone walk.

As she pulled in the driveway, she noticed several cars parked near the garage farther back from the house. Either Horace was throwing a party or his family owned a lot of cars.

She got out as the side door to the garage opened.

“Hey,” Horace said, meeting her in the driveway. “We're in the garage.”

“We?” She raised her brow.

“Just wait and see.” He held the door open for her and she went inside. Heat blasted from a vent just overhead. The first thing she noticed was the drum set, the amps, and the guitar. Then she recognized Hobb and Dean, two guys in the high school band. They were sitting on a torn orange couch along
the wall, Hobb strumming on the strings of a bass guitar, and Dean tapping drumsticks on a tin can.

“Ray,” Horace said. “You know Hobb and Dean.”

“Hey,” they both said.

“Hi.” She waved, then turned to Horace with a look of “What the hell is going on?”

“We've been playing together for about a year now,” he explained, “but our vocalist jumped ship and we need a replacement.”

Three sets of eyes watched her.

“Okay,” she said, crossing her arms uncomfortably over her chest. “What does that have to do with me?”

“We want to play at the open-mike night you were talking about,” Horace said. “But we don't have a vocalist.”

They wanted her to sing? Were they crazy?! “I don't sing. I play the flute.”

“I've heard you sing, Ray,” Horace argued. “I know you're good.”

“When have you heard me sing?” She only sang at home, in her bedroom or the shower. Sometimes she'd start singing along with her iPod, but she was mindful when the headphones were on at school.

Horace swallowed, eyes sliding from her to the floor. “That night on the bus. After the band competition.”

Oh.
That
night.

She'd been listening to her iPod before Horace moved seats and tapped her on the shoulder. She remembered singing, but she'd thought she was only mumbling and the rest of the bus had been alive with conversation. She didn't think anyone had heard her.

“I just sing for fun,” she argued.

“Come on,” Hobb said, chewing on a piece of his long brown hair. “Having a chick sing our songs would be way cool.”

“Hobb,” Horace said, shaking his head.

“What?”

“We need someone,” Dean added, standing. “We're desperate.”

She shifted her weight around. “Do I need to remind you guys that I don't sing?”

“Just try it,” Horace said. “We can do a cover song. Pick something.”

No way was she singing in front of all three of them! She didn't even know how to sing. She'd probably make a fool of herself, and then Horace would think she was a huge dork.

“I can't. Besides, I don't know the words to any songs. I can only sing along if I sing to my iPod.”

“That's fine. Go get your iPod,” Horace said.

It was sitting in her car. She could say she didn't have it, but something told her Horace would know she was lying. When did she ever
not
have her iPod?

“And then what?” she asked.

“You sing to the iPod and we'll play along.”

“But what if you don't know any of my songs?”

“You have Greengers on there? You were singing it on the bus that night.”

“Yeah.”

“‘Save Me Yesterday'?”

“Save Me Yesterday” was one of her favorite songs. The band, Greengers, was an up-and-coming alternative band.
They weren't quite Three Days Grace yet, but their popularity was growing. She'd heard of them two years ago when they started making the scene in Boston.

“Yeah. I have it.”

“We can do that song,” Hobb said, unfolding his long legs from the couch. “Let's do it.”

Raven hesitated as the boys set up the equipment. Horace just stood there, staring at her. Singing to her iPod was easy, singing here, in front of them, that was the hard part. And it was just a high school open-mike night. Why was it so important that they play?

Maybe it was important to them, to Horace, because it was their passion and it didn't matter where they played—open–mike night or a serious gig—just so long as they got to play and people heard their music.

Music was a big influence on Raven's life; she could appreciate the passion.