one that’s been laundered so many times the writing is fading, and an old pair of ripped jeans and pull my hair back into a ponytail. Not at all chic, but I figure a day devoted to physical labor/community service does not require chic, even at Wood Valley. I pat some concealer on the bridge of my nose, cover up the bruising. Lesson learned: no mascara.
School is closed today; instead of going to our normal classes, we’re expected to report for work at the Habitat for Humanity site. For once, Theo wanted to drive in together, since he was worried about getting lost and carjacked, though the neighborhood looks not too different from where I grew up. But apparently, this place is in desperate need of two hundred rich kids who have never before touched a power tool.
We are supposed to erect the frame of a house.
Someone has not thought this through.
Gem is here. Because she is everywhere, she and Crystal, and there is nothing I can do about their omnipresence. She wears a tank top with huge armholes thrown over a sequined sports bra, which is one of those things that probably shouldn’t exist but for which the one percent are willing to pay large sums of money nonetheless. Her shirt bears the words, I kid you not, THUG LIFE.
And although this place is pretty big—a whole house will be built on this plot of land—Gem is for some reason drawn to that which she hates, and she finds me. Walks right by, so close that I shouldn’t be surprised when I feel her shoulder jam into mine. And yet, I am. The pain is sharp and perverse, and I imagine it hurt her just as much as it hurt me.
Maybe more, since she’s bony.
“Excuse me,” she says, all righteous indignation. Theo and I have just arrived, so I haven’t even had a chance to find my friends, to at least surround myself by my wholly ineffective girl team. Not that Dri and Agnes could do anything, necessarily, but still.
What does Gem want from me? A scene? A punch? Tears? Or am I giving her exactly what she’s asking for when I stand here and look at her, slack-jawed? No words come, not even the easy ones she likes to slug at me.
“Really?” Theo says, and at first I think he’s talking to me, and I feel so alone that I may actually cry, right here, right now. Finally give the people what they want. “Touch Jessie again, and I swear to God, I will ruin you.”
Theo is talking to Gem, actually pointing his finger in her face. He looks menacing in his own version of a community service day outfit: lumberjack flannel shirt, designer jeans, spotless, intentionally untied Timberlands. She just stares at him, and I can see her gum sitting stupidly in her mouth.
“Blink once so I know you understand what I’m saying,” he says.
“Whatever,” Gem says, just as Liam comes over to join us, all cheerful and oblivious, blocking her exit.
“Hey, guys. Happy Wood Valley Giving Day.” Liam smiles at us, at me, as if yesterday never happened. And like this is all fun, spending the morning outside among “friends.” He already has a hammer in his hand, ready to build. I can almost hear his mom praising his “can-do” attitude. Onstage, he seems like a rock star. Right now, he’s more like a Boy Scout with a sprinkling of whiteheads on his chin. I’m not a particular fan of either look, but where’s Dri? She’d lap this up.
“Liam, keep your girl on her leash, okay?” Theo says, and walks away, his job done, I guess, and though I appreciate his support, I’m mortified. And left standing here, like an idiot.
“What’s he talking about?” Liam asks Gem, but then I notice he’s actually looking at me.
“Nothing,” I answer, and then spot Caleb on the other side of the lawn, staring into his phone. Screw it. My first instinct was to text SN—he always cheers me up—but I might as well just go talk to him. I’m too beaten down for this anonymity nonsense. It also occurs to me that Caleb may be the only person here who actually knows what he’s doing. He built a school, after all. “Later, Liam.”
I cross the lawn, vaguely hear Gem and Liam begin to argue.
“Hey there,” I say, once I’m in front of Caleb. Instead of his usual uniform, he’s sporting a USC sweatshirt and jeans with paint splatters, a