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What I was born to do.

  Holland

  Friday was uneventful, save for the occasional mournful glance thrown my direction from my ex-best friend, and the somewhat surprising reappearance of my new biggest fan.

  Rosemarie wasn’t in any of my classes, thank God, but she did manage to appear out of nowhere when Cam and I were just about to get into my car after school.

  “Hey, Holland!”

  “What the hell?” Cam jumped—she’d clearly startled him.

  I couldn’t help but smirk. “Cam, meet Rosemarie. Rosemarie, my little brother, Cameron.”

  “Little?” Rosemarie scoffed. “Hey, Cameron, it’s nice to meet you.” She extended her arm and waited for Cam to accept her hand.

  Cam raised a dark eyebrow and crossed his arms, clearly analyzing Rosemarie. He’d become so protective over me these past few months, but this was a bit extreme. She was a bit persistent, but she seemed harmless enough.

  I cleared my throat, hoping to remind Cam of his manners.

  He slowly shook her hand. “Hey, Rosemarie. It’s, uh, nice to meet you, too?”

  Rosemarie ignored Cam’s half-ass statement, and turned to me. “So, you guys headed anywhere tonight? I know of this killer party at a warehouse in Huntington if you want to come.”

  “Dude, didn’t you just move here? How do you know about parties all the way up in Huntington Beach?” Cam asked.

  “Well, I didn’t move here from the moon, Cameron. I moved here from Huntington Beach.” She slowly enunciated the words as if they would be confusing for him, and I watched as my brother’s eyes tightened, indicating his annoyance.

  “Yeah. Got it.”

  “So,” she turned back toward me, “you guys down or what?”

  I shrugged. “Sure.”

  What? Had that word really just come out of my mouth? She only asked us to go so she could show off her shiny new celebrity friend to her old friends, and everyone could get a kick out of meeting the girl who tried to set her ex on fire! What had I just done?

  But something had happened when she mouthed off to Cam a moment ago. I actually…liked her.

  Weird.

  Cam’s wide eyes and clenched jaw told me my answer surprised him as much as it surprised me—then his quickly forming frown indicated his displeasure. Whoops. Because he’d long ago self-designated himself my guardian, when I agreed to go to the party with Rosemarie, Cam agreed by default. I couldn’t wait to hear all about my big snafu during the car ride home.

  “Sweet! Where do you guys live? San Juan?”

  “No, we live up in Santa Margarita. We’ll meet you somewhere off the freeway, if that’s okay?” No way was I giving her my address, even though she could probably get it from anyone at school.

  “Sweet. The Carl’s Jr. off of Oso Parkway and I-5 work for you guys?”

  I nodded. “That works.”

  Cam glared at me. I ignored him.

  “Nine o’clock then. See you guys tonight!” Rosemarie sprinted off to the sophomore/junior parking lot—which, assuming that meant she was in tenth or eleventh grade, would explain why she hadn’t been in any of my classes—her choppy black hair bouncing with each footfall, and I turned back to the car.

  “She really does need a set of wings, doesn’t she?” I said, voicing my thoughts. “She’s so—”

  “Are you effing kidding me, Holl? Why did you do that? I have plans with the guys tonight.”

  Cam’s face was priceless. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was open. Then, his disbelief gave me pause. When was the last time I’d gone out on a Friday night, anyway? No wonder he was shocked. He usually only had to monitor me during school hours and the occasional random shopping trip on the weekends. Otherwise, one of our parents would be home and he could come and go as he pleased. Whoops. My bad.

  “Cam, you know I don’t actually need a babysitter. It’s just a party. I’m not going to hurt myself.”

  Cam winced, then I cringed at my own poor choice of words. Absently, I ran a thumb over my wrist and sighed.

  “You know what I mean, Cam. Go hang out with your friends tonight. I love you, little bro, but you need to have a life, too. You can’t spend it worried about me. It’s supposed to be the other way around.”

  “Did you just call me little? That’s the second time in the last ten minutes.”

  Ah hell. The glint of amusement in his eyes warned me I was in trouble, and he raced to my side of the car in a matter of seconds. I tried to run, but he was too fast. Before I could react, I’d been thrown over his shoulder, my feet at his ear-level. With his hands around my ankles, he held me upside down over his back. My nose inched closer to the grass—a matter of seconds before Cam rubbed my face into the ground.

  “Apologize!”

  “Cam!” I squealed.

  “A-pol-o-gize.” He stretched the word out as he slowly lowered my face closer to the ground.

  “J’en ai assez!

  “Gosh, Holl, I wish I knew what that meant,” he said with a laugh as he shook me again. If I’d had coins in my pocket, they’d have fallen to the ground by now. “But like most normal people in Southern California, I’m taking Spanish.”

  “It means I’m fed up, Cameron! Stop!”

  “You know what you have to do, Holl. This isn’t my fault.”

  “Lo siento,” I snapped at him, meaning it in Spanish about as much as I’d meant it in French.

  “Nice try, but no.”

  I zeroed in on a pill bug crawling through the blades of grass—I would smoosh it if Cam lowered me any closer to the ground.

  “Fine! Fine! I’m sorry!”

  “That’s not all.”

  “Cam!”

  “Say it.”

  “Ugh! I hate you!”

  “No, I don’t think those are the magic words.” I heard the smile on his face without seeing it. “Have you forgotten them already?”

  “Oh my God, Cam! Fine! You are not little. You are big. You are the King of the World.”

  “Ah. That’s better.” He set me back on my feet, wearing the hugest smile. “You’d think you’d know better by now, sis. It surprises me what a slow learner you are. Really it does.”

  “Jerk.”

  We both hopped into Penny, laughter keeping us smiling, and my earlier lapse in judgment momentarily forgotten.

  “But seriously, dude, what the heck were you thinking?”

  Well, maybe not forgotten after all.

  “That chick’s got a crush on you or something,” Cam continued.

  Huh? Oh. That thought hadn’t occurred to me. Had she asked me out? I’d assumed she just wanted to hang out with a bigger outcast than she was, but if something more was happening here, and I said yes, then I led her on. I quickly replayed the conversation in my head, my eyes wide.

  “No, no, Cam. You think every chick is a lesbian.”

  “Wishful thinking.”

  “Anyway, I remember. She asked us if we had plans tonight. Both of us. Not just me. She said ‘you guys’.”

  “Still. When was the last time you went out on a Friday night?”

  I’d been wondering the same thing. Probably before Rod and Leslie…

  Cam seemed to follow my train of thought, and he squinted slightly before smiling, the seriousness of his question gone. “Well, it will probably be good for you. We’ll go. We’ll have fun. What could it hurt, right?”

  “Right. But you really don’t have to go. I mean it.”

  “Nah. I’m going. There’s no sense in arguing. This chick could be an ax murderer for all we know.”

  I rolled my eyes at Cam. “She doesn’t look like an ax murderer.”

  “They never do, Holl. They never do.” Cam’s expression was somber as he shook his head from side to side. “And seriously, if she kills you, and I’m not there, how do you think that will make me feel? Do you really want me to live with that kind of guilt for the rest of my life?”

  “Oh geez. You’re ridiculous.”

  “
You love me.”

  “Mhmm.”

  “Why’d you say yes, anyway?”

  I turned down the main road that would take us straight to our neighborhood, smiling as I remembered what had so strangely endeared her to me. “Honestly?”

  “Yeah, duh.”

  “I liked the way she talked back to you.”

  “Ha. Of course you would.”

  I glanced at him, catching a brief smile as he turned to gaze at the passing scenery.

  By eight forty-five, I was happily full of fried zucchini, and waiting in the Carl’s Jr. parking lot with a still somewhat reluctant Cam, for our new friend to arrive. When she pulled up in a silver station wagon with a “Jesus Loves You, And So Do I” bumper sticker pasted below a red vinyl rose decal on the back window, I snorted and choked on my root beer. I guess I’d expected a slightly edgier car for the chick in the crazy-ass boots.

  “Huh. She doesn’t seem like the Jesus type.”

  “Nah, really, Cam? You think maybe she’s driving her parents’ car?”

  “Easy there. I don’t want to have to flip you again.” He punched my arm and I cringed. His love taps began to hurt now that he’d grown so much bigger than me.

  “Oh. Sorry,” he said. “I forget how fragile you are.”

  “Pssh. Whatever.” I rubbed my arm when he turned his attention to Rosemarie.

  She bounced over to us, wearing actual wings this time, and I briefly wondered if she’d somehow read my mind earlier.

  “Hey, guys! Do you want to drive together or separately? I’ve got room in the Pussy Wagon if you want to hop in!”

  Cam elbowed me. Now it was his turn to choke on his soda. I ignored him.

  “No. Thanks though, but can we just follow you? I’m feeling a bit tired and don’t know how late we’ll be staying out tonight.”

  “Sure thing! In case we get lost, grab my cell number, okay?”

  Cam whipped out his cell phone and entered her digits. I’d gotten rid of my cell after the break-up. Leslie was the only one calling after that, and I couldn’t see paying for something—or expecting my parents to pay for something—that I wasn’t using.

  We followed Rosemarie out of the parking lot in silence. Cam didn’t speak again until we were on the freeway heading north. I was surprised he’d managed to wait so long.

  “Dude. She called it a pussy wagon.”

  “She made a Kill Bill reference, Cam. Nothing more.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “She’s wearing wings. Do you think we were supposed to dress up or something?”

  “Nah. It’s February. She’s just a freak.”

  “Stop it. She’s nice.” I glared at him and turned on the radio.

  Was she nice? I didn’t even know. But she wanted to hang out with me, and that was more than anyone else had done in months. I’d probably find out later she was just using me for show-and-tell, or that we were actually going to a pyromaniac support group, but I’d try to stay positive.

  When we pulled up to the warehouse a half hour later, I saw that luckily, no one else was in costume. Our new friend just liked to wear wings. Whatever. I couldn’t say they didn’t fit her persona perfectly.

  Mick

  I buzzed with energy, just thinking of finally meeting Holland. Remarkably, after Ro’s less than stellar first meeting, Holland had agreed to come to our friend’s club. I imagined she was probably pretty sick of being an outcast, so saying yes to Ro’s offer gave Holland an opportunity to be part of a crowd again, though it still shocked me that she’d agreed. From what I’d learned, she was a bit of a shut-in since the fire at her ex’s beach house.

  I assumed her brother would come along and hoped he wouldn’t give me any grief. We had the same goals in this; he just didn’t know it yet.

  I tried ignoring the need to search for Holland in the crowd forming outside the warehouse. I accepted cash from each person that went inside, and forced myself to focus on the task at hand, preventing anyone from sneaking past me without paying the cover. Focusing was tough to do, though, especially when I’d catch myself scanning the crowd instead of watching the door. My buddy wouldn’t want me to help him out with his parties in the future if I couldn’t handle the simple task of getting the cash from each guest. Plus, people wouldn’t show up if we couldn’t provide the booze and the bands, so this would all be a moot point. Better to find a way to focus on the task at hand.

  I sensed Holland’s presence the second she arrived; my chest felt like it was somehow swelling and tightening at the same time. I’d never felt anything that came even close. My dad warned me that I’d have a connection to her, but this was intense, and almost, no definitely surreal.

  An invisible string linked us to one another, and something had just pulled it taut. It took effort to remain seated on my bar stool at the door. Being told about your so-called destiny was one thing, but I couldn’t believe the force of the pull to her now that she was nearby.

  I scanned the crowd again, spotting the tips of Ro’s purple fairy wings before I spotted Ro. She practically skipped toward me, Holland and her brother walking side-by-side behind her.

  I sucked in a breath. Holland was smoking hot. I’d known this, but pictures of her just didn’t measure up to the real thing. She kept her gaze to the ground or snuck quick glances over at her brother, avoiding the crowd and not allowing anyone to make eye contact with her, though many of them tried. The girl following Ro was so unlike the one I’d studied in pictures, no longer the confident girl who held her head high in every photograph I’d seen from before the fire.

  As if she could feel my gaze on her, Holland snapped her head up and our eyes met. In that split second before she looked down again, I could see it. The spark of life I’d seen in the photos of her had vanished. The brazen confidence of a girl who was once resting easily on the top rung of the social ladder was gone as well, lost to that cursed thing inside her.

  But, for just a brief second, a flicker of a challenge sparked to life in her eyes. And, man, when she looked away from me, I fought the strongest urge to get up and grab her chin with my fingers, to force her to meet my gaze so I’d never have to miss the rebellion in her eyes.

  Holland

  The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and my spine prickled. I looked up at Cam, but he was focused straight ahead, his gaze strangely locked on Rosemarie. I scanned the crowd, wondering what had set my skin to buzzing. Many of the girls in line were checking out my brother, giggling like idiots and pointing as we walked past, but no one paid me much attention.

  Still, the feeling remained.

  I looked ahead and discovered the reason. My chest tightened, as if someone had just wrapped slender fingers around my heart, then pulled. The guy at the door stared at me shamelessly. Shamelessly. His eyes bore into mine, and even from this distance, I felt a reaction deep within my belly. My pulse sped as he held my gaze, then I quickly averted my eyes.

  I wasn’t on the market.

  But, wow. He was…no. It didn’t matter.

  The line to get in stretched about thirty people deep, and I realized that he was taking money at the door. Cover charge. Shoot! Why hadn’t I thought of that? I had my debit card but no cash. Then it occurred to me that this party was at an empty warehouse, so thinking they’d even take debit or credit cards was laughable. Way to go, Holland.

  I peeked at Cam and whispered, “Did you bring any cash for the cover charge?”

  “Ah shit, Holl—I didn’t even think about it. You don’t think they’ll take a debit card? Wait. Why are they even charging? Isn’t this supposed to be a party? What the he—?”

  “No worries, guys!” Rosemarie called over her shoulder. “I’ve got this!”

  She skipped in front of us, leading us past the long line of people. Her purple costume wings glittered in the bright industrial lights on top of the building. Cam turned to me, lifting one eyebrow and nodding toward Rosemarie’s wings, before straightening his shoulders and walkin
g tall. Walk in like you own the place. I briefly wondered if our mom ever had to give him that speech, or if he’d been born with easy confidence.

  Though really, before homecoming, I never needed to be reminded to hold my head high.

  I inhaled a deep breath, and my chest tightened again as I watched Rosemarie stop in front of him. We were going to have to talk to the guy who’d watched me so unabashedly.

  “What’s up with the way he looks at you? I don’t like it.”

  Clearly, Cam had also noticed.

  “Hey, Mick! These are the friends I was telling you about. Holland and Cam. Guys, this is Mick, my brother from another mother.”

  The guy at the door—Mick—smiled fondly at Rosemarie, nodded at Cam, then brought his gaze to meet mine. My heart did a silly skip-jump-thump thing as we stared at each other once again. He was in his mid-twenties, I imagined, and pretty hot—if I was into his dark, shaved head, green eyes, slightly disgruntled appearance. Which I was.

  Or would have been, had I been interested. Which I was not.

  “Hey, Ro. Cameron—” he nodded toward Cam again, then brought his gaze to me, smiling to reveal almost-straight teeth, and nearly knocking the wind from my lungs, “—Holland. Come on in.”

  Much to my delight, we surpassed the line and the cover charge. Rosemarie gave Mick a quick peck on the cheek and then pulled us inside. I saw him watching us from the corner of my eyes. Well, watching me. He definitely watched me. I tried to ignore how amazing that made me feel—people stared at me these days, but never like that anymore—and followed Rosemarie inside.

  Walking up to the makeshift bar—what looked like two or three tables lined up, draped with black tablecloths and supporting a couple bright orange Gatorade coolers—I realized we’d probably surpass any drink costs as well. Dressed similarly to Rosemarie, wings and all, the girl behind the bar spotted us, and her face lit up like the Fourth of July.

  “Rosie! Yay! You’re here!”

  “Jenna!”

  Dropping our arms, Rosemarie embraced the girl in front of us and then turned around to introduce her.