Burn for Burn Read Free Page A

Whatever.”
    As he drives down toward the ferry landing, Alex keeps staring at me out of the corner of his eye. I don’t know why it makes me feel weird, but it does. I turn to the the window, so he can’t see me, and I say, “What’s with you?”
    He lets out a big sigh. “I can’t believe summer’s already over. I don’t know. I feel like I wasted it.”
    Before I can stop myself, I say, “You wasted it with your loser friends, maybe. Not hanging out with me.” And I hate myself for sounding like I care.
    Usually, Alex defends his friends when I make fun of them, but this time, he doesn’t say anything.
    For the rest of the ride, I think about what’s going to happen when school starts, if Alex and I will still be friends. Sure, we’ve hung out a bunch this summer, but I don’t know if I want to associate with the kid at school. In public.
    Alex and I . . . we work best like this. When it’s just us.
    Alex pulls into the ferry parking lot. Before he has a chance to park, I make a split-second decision and say, “I can bail on the show, if you want to hang out tonight.” It’s not like I’m some Puppy Ciao groupie. Plus, they’ll probably come around again. But me and Alex? This might be it for us. Our last night. And I think, on some level, we both know it.
    Alex grins. “Seriously? You’ll stay with me?”
    I open my window and light up a cigarette to hide the fact that I’m smiling too. “Yeah, why not? I want to see this Richie Rich yacht for myself.”
    So that’s where Alex takes us. We pull up to his uncle Tim’s mansion, where the thing is docked. As we walk toward it, I immediately start making fun of how gaudy it is, but what I’m thinking is, Holy crap. This yacht is bigger than my freaking house. It’s definitely the nicest boat I’ve ever seen. Better than any of the other yachts in the marina.
    Alex climbs aboard first, and I’m right behind him. He gives me a quick tour, and it’s even more posh on the inside. Italian marble and about a hundred flat-screen televisions, and a wine cellar filled with bottles from Italy, France, South Africa.
    I think of Rennie. She’d die over this place.
    Just as quick, I push her out of my head. It hardly happens anymore, but I hate that it happens at all.
    I’m trying to figure out the stereo when Alex comes up beside me. Really close beside me. He pushes my hair off to one side. “Kat?”
    I freeze. Alex’s lips brush against my neck. He grabs my hips and pulls me toward him.
    He’s not my type. Not even close.
    That’s why it’s so crazy. Because as soon as I turn my head, we’re kissing. And I suddenly feel like I’ve been waiting the whole summer for it to happen.

CHAPTER ONE
    LILLIA
     
    I ’M SITTING ON MY BATHROOM COUNTER, TRYING TO remember what the makeup lady at Saks told me about how to do eyeliner on Asian eyes. Only . . . I can’t think straight.
    I think she said to wing it just the tiniest bit. I do my right eye first, and it looks okay. I’m finishing up my left eye when my little sister, Nadia, bangs on the door so loudly that I jump.
    “Lil! I need to take a shower!” she yells. “Lilli-uhh!”
    I pick up my hairbrush and then reach over and unlock the door. Nadia rushes in and turns on the water. She sits on the edge of the tub, in her big soccer T-shirt with her shiny black hair mussed up in the back and watches me brush my hair. “You look pretty,” she says, her voice scratchy with sleep.
    Do I? At least the outside is still the same.
    I keep brushing. Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, done. I brush my hair twenty-five strokes every morning. I’ve done it that way since I was little.
    Today will be like any other day.
    “But I thought you weren’t supposed to wear white after Labor Day,” Nadia adds.
    I look down at my sweater. It’s new—white cashmere, soft and snug. I’m wearing it with my white short shorts. “Nobody follows that rule anymore,” I tell her, hopping down from the