The Revenge Artist - Philip Siegel Page 0,53

probably her accomplice, ready to stick a Nice Try sticker on a camera at a moment’s notice.

But why? I tried. I tried so hard to balance her and Fred. I tried to be a simultaneous best friend and awesome girlfriend. I never meant to ditch my friend for a guy. I never meant to be that girl. If only she knew how hard I tried. Tears blur my vision.

I’m still in the parking lot after school. It’s dark out. My key sits in the ignition, but I can’t go anywhere.

Who can I talk to about this? I know there’s Fred, but I can’t. Anything Revenge Artist-related is strictly off-limits. There’s a part of me that hopes beyond hope that Val and I can work through this like we worked through drama last year. But if Fred knew about Val’s secret identity, she would be dead to him. And that would never change.

So this is how it ends? I won’t let it. We’re not going out with a whimper. If she really wants to end this friendship, we’re going out guns blazin’ and bangin’.

There’s only one person I can talk to about this. The one person I have to talk to about this.

***

“Oh, hi, Becca!”

“Hi, Dottie. Is Val home?”

I hear a familiar tumbling down the stairs, and Val catches her mom before she can open the door wide for me.

“I got it, Mom. Hi!” she says while catching her breath. I wave goodbye to her mom as she returns to her office.

“Hey. Can we talk?” I ask. I sound polite, but my tone lets her know that I’m here on business.

“Look, I know we both said stuff. Let’s talk after we’ve cooled off.” Val’s more relaxed than the last time I saw her. I don’t want to keep dealing with Angry Val or Pensive Val. I miss laughing with my bubbly best friend.

“I don’t want to cool off.” I slam my body into the door and knock it all the way open. Val stumbles backward. Her face whitens in shock.

“What the hell, Becca!”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“What?”

“I know,” I say in a steely voice as I stare her down. “I know.”

Val can’t argue with that, and she knows it. She sighs in defeat. Shame creases her forehead. “How did you find out? You followed me into the caf?”

“I put the pieces together.”

I sit on the bench in the foyer that’s usually covered in coats.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Val pleads.

“You were planning to tell me?” I ask, hating the way that tastes on my tongue. “Like you wanted to gloat? You tore down everything I tried to build these past few months. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, and it’s been killing me. I’ve been trying to make things right. What’s the point?” I take a deep breath. My throat is dry from talking so fast and gulping for air. The only way this is coming out is full speed ahead. “I’m sorry that you’re still angry at me and I’m sorry that I couldn’t go perfume making with you, but I never stopped being your friend. Never. You think I like being so secretive?”

She nods.

“Okay, kinda. I just…” Come to think of it, why was I so into secrets? I seemed to gravitate to clandestine adventures. I’m a secret-a-holic. I dig inside myself for an answer. I guess when you’re used to being a social nothing, you find ways to feel superior. There were things about me you didn’t know, Ashlanders. I wasn’t just somebody that could be passed by in the hall.

“I just… I needed a way to make myself feel special. But this isn’t all about me. You had no right to drag Bari and Leo and Jake and especially Huxley into this. What you did to those innocent couples was disgusting.”

Val gives me a confused look. Maybe she’s searching my face for her friend inside. I’m still here, but I’m pissed. I think about how she basically tried to drive me insane, and I’m pissed.

“Becca,” she says softly. “I’m not the Revenge Artist.”

“Lying to my face hurts more than just admitting what you’ve done.”

She sits next to me and cups my hands in hers. “Becca. I’m telling the truth. I am not the Revenge Artist. I haven’t broken up any couples. I promise you.”

She seems sincere, but it’s hard to dispute facts.

“Becca,” she says, trying harder. “That’s not me. I swear on my black Breakfast at Tiffany’s dress that I got at that sample sale.”

My eyes