“No. I just … I’m not sure about this.”
“I thought you said you’ve tagged places before?”
“Not me. My friend.”
She missed Grady. She’d tried to push it down and ignore it in the wake of their growing distance, but she missed him. She missed his stupid backward hat and that jersey he always wore. She missed watching her dad give him art lessons. She missed how much color—literally and figuratively—he brought into her life.
“Hewas an actual artist,” she explained. “Like,reallygood. I just went along to watch. I never actually did any of the painting.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
“I guess. But …” Caela looked down at the can in her hand. “If my mother finds out—”
“She won’t,” Bonnie said. “Unless you tell her. And I assume you ain’t gonna do that.”
“Of course not.”
“So what’s the issue?” she asked. “This place sucks. The people here suck. They’ve treated you like crap. The administration won’t do anything about it. Your parents already act like you’re a criminal—”
Right on cue, Caela’s phone began to buzz in her back pocket. It was almost certainly her mother calling to demand to know where she was and why she was late for curfew.
“You deserve to get some revenge,” Bonnie said. “No one’s getting hurt. Actually, you can even say it’s like a warning. Let the other kids know how much this place blows. Do everyone a favor.”
Caela snorted. She knew that was a stretch.
Bonnie sighed. “Look, don’t waste my time,” she said. “I thought I was doing you a favor, giving you a chance to get some of that anger out, but if you’re gonna flake on me, let’s just go.”
Thedisappointment in her voice stung. Caela could almost picture the expression on Bonnie’s face, lip curled in something halfway between a snarl and a frown, nose wrinkled, eyes rolling with annoyance. Their friendship was still so new, so fresh, Caela felt like she was constantly walking on a tightrope, worried one wrong step would send her toppling back into the void of solitude.
That Bonnie, her only friend, would leave her.
She glanced around at the silent, empty parking lot. She wasn’t sure where the security cameras Bonnie had mentioned were, but it was hard to imagine they’d have a good view out here, in this near darkness, especially with their faces covered. Her mother was already going to be furious with her for being late. She might as well make it worth it.
“Cae?” Bonnie clucked her tongue. “Hello? What’re we doing?”
Caela let out a breath and marched forward, shaking her spray paint can one more time before pointing the nozzle at the brick wall. “I’ll do the honors.”
“Heck yeah. That’s my girl.”
She didn’t feel any shame about the series of curse words she painted on the side of the gym. Especially not when Bonnie hugged her and told her how cool she was once they were done.
Shedidn’t feel any shame when her mother and Rob yelled at her for coming home late, grounding her for a month and accusing her of every bad behavior under the sun, most far worse, in Caela’s opinion, than a little vandalism.
She didn’t feel shame the next morning, when the principal made an announcement about the graffiti and promised that if the perpetrators were caught, they’d be facing suspension.
No. Caela only felt shame that afternoon as she walked out of the building and saw the old janitor with her power washer, trying desperately to clean up the series of swears and a crudely painted middle finger on the brick wall. She didn’t know the woman’s name, but she knew that the janitor had never wronged her. And Caela’s actions had made her afternoon much harder.
Of course they had, Caela thought. Had she really believed any of those jerks from her class or the guidance counselor would have to deal with the graffiti?
Still, she forced that spark of guilt away and told herself it was worth it. Not because she’d pissed off her mother or gotten any sort of vengeance on the school or its students. But because she had impressed Bonnie. She’d held on to her only friend.
IRIS
Ican smell smoke and gasoline on my skin for days after the fire. I keep expecting someone else to bring it up or wrinkle their nose at the stench, but none of the other girls seem to notice it.
I take long, boiling-hot showers every day, scrubbing my skin until the water runs cold.
“You’re getting as bad as Violet,” Zinnia grumbles one night after discovering there’s no more hot water. “Y’all gotta be more considerate about the rest of us.”
