Brenna Yovanoff - The Replacement

But on the stage, Concertina was playing a song called “Kill All Cowards,” and no one had saved Kellan Caury. It didn’t matter that county justice was just murder with a different name or that he was harmless. You couldn’t go around associating with strangers. If you did, you might wind up swinging.

I put my hand on the man’s wrist and twisted away.

His eyes were just dark pockets of shadow, but suddenly they burned ferocious and hot under the brim of his hat.

I turned around fast, before he could grab me again, and went back the way I’d come.

My heart beat hard and panicky as I shoved my way through the crowd, back to where Roswell laughed too loud and waved his hands around when he talked and could almost always make me feel normal.

But I knew that this time, it was going to take more than pretending everything was fine. I could still hear the guitar player’s voice. It reverberated in my head like a tinny echo, You’re dying.

When I came up to the pool tables, Drew was terrorizing Roswell at nine ball, sinking numbers one after another, then starting another round and doing it all over again.

“So, what was going on over there?” Danny asked, jerking his head in the direction of the floor and leaning on his cue.

“Nothing,” I said, clearing my throat. “Just a misunderstanding.”

Danny gave me a hard look. When a situation started to get too weird or too bad, he could generally be counted on to turn it into some kind of joke, but he wasn’t smiling now, not even close. “Kind of a strange place to have a misunderstanding, though. What did he want?”

You’re dying. You’re dying.

I glanced in the direction of the fire door without meaning to. The doorway was empty and the green exit sign still glowed over it, flickering a little.

Danny was watching me with a blank expression.

What did the guy want? He wanted to take me somewhere, or to tell me something or give me something. He said that he wanted to save me, and I wanted that too, only not in the middle of the Starlight where everyone could see, and not by someone with black, flashing eyes and yellow teeth. I couldn’t shake the way Danny was looking at me, like he was waiting for me to show myself.

I was saved from answering by Tate. She came back to the tables breathing hard. Her face was shiny with sweat and there was a rip down the shoulder of her T-shirt where someone in the pit must have grabbed her by the collar.

She pushed herself up to sit on the half wall just as Alice came down the steps behind her. I figured they must be hanging out together, even though I never saw them talk in class, but Alice walked right past Tate and came over to me. “Hey, Mackie! I was looking for you. You seemed kind of rough yesterday. Roswell said you went home. Are you feeling better?”

I wasn’t, really, but I shrugged. “It was no big deal.”

She looked up at me, tucking her hair behind one ear. “So, I kind of wanted to ask you—Stephanie’s having that party tomorrow night. Do you think you’ll go?”

I looked down at her and smiled. It felt good to smile. “Sure, maybe.”

From somewhere to my right, I could feel Tate’s eyes on my face. It made me want to look at her and also made me want to be someplace else.

Alice sighed and leaned against the wall so that her arm was touching mine. In the dim glow from the lamp above the pool table, her hair looked like bronze. “So, did you go up by the stage at all? It’s crazy tonight. I mean, some guy actually pushed me into the soundboard—on purpose . I’m not some sweaty hard-core, okay? I’m a girl !”

Tate slid down off the ledge and gave us both an annoyed look. “Then don’t go in the pit.”

Alice opened her mouth like she was going to say something back, but Tate just stalked away and yanked Roswell’s cue out of his hand.

Alice sighed, and when she turned to me, her eyes looked sad. “Wow. She is in so much denial about her sister. I mean, she just keeps acting like nothing happened.”

I didn’t answer, because that was not actually the case. It was just that the thing Tate thought had happened was different from the thing everyone else thought.

Tate was racking for eight ball, slamming balls into the plastic triangle. Suddenly, I wanted to apologize. I wanted to tell her that I was sorry for not being brave enough to listen to her, for letting her be the one to stand alone in front of the whole class when it should have been me.

Alice leaned against me, watching as Tate lifted the triangle. “So, do you know what the deal is with her family? I mean, she should be home right now, processing or grieving or something, right?”

I shrugged. The twins had been hanging out with Tate since junior high, but the thing was, you couldn’t really know her unless she let you.

“Hey, Mackie, you want this one?” Drew said, jerking his head at the table.

I shook my head. Drew shrugged and tossed the cue to Danny, who chalked it and lined up his shot. The break was only okay, and he didn’t sink anything.

Tate gave me a hard, clever smile and I got the impression that she was imagining how I’d look with a piece of rebar through my chest. “Just so there’s no confusion, I would have destroyed you,” she said.

I nodded, but there was a nasty little whisper in my head. It went, You wouldn’t have to. I’m dying anyway.

For a second, we just looked at each other. Then, without warning, she chucked the cue in Drew’s general direction and stalked up to me, looking apocalyptic. Alice must have seen it too because she backed away.

Tate stood with her toes almost touching mine, staring up into my face. “Okay, I’ve had about enough. You need to start talking to me.”

I wanted to sound assertive, but I had to look over her head to keep my voice from cracking. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”

She grabbed my wrist and yanked me closer. “Look, maybe you don’t give a shit about any of this, but I’m not going to sit around and act like everything is normal and fine!”

“Tate, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She shook her head and looked away. “You believed me today. You believed me and it scared you, and now you’re just too much of a pussy to man up and say it.” She was standing with her shoulders slumped and her eyes downcast, but her fingers were digging into my wrist. “Why won’t you just say it?”

I stared down at her with my mouth open. Her jaw was hard, but I knew without a doubt that she wasn’t nearly as mad as I was—not even close.

You don’t get to tell me what I should do. That’s what I should have said. You don’t get to be self-righteous, because you have no idea what it’s like to be me. People get beaten to death for being me. People have close, personal relationships with lynch mobs for being me. I am on the outside all the time, with no chance at a normal life, no way to be average or to fit in. Free weights in PE constitute a medical emergency, food poisoning means anything that comes in a can. Oh, and by the way, there’s a really good chance I’m dying, so that’s pretty awesome.

I just looked at her, and when she didn’t say anything else, I jerked my arm out of her hand. Alice was standing against the half wall, watching us with a stunned look. I wanted to tell her I was sorry for the interruption, that my life was not usually this bizarre, but my throat was so tight I knew I’d never get the words out. I just walked out of the lounge and into the crowd to find Roswell.

He was over by the bar with Stephanie and Jenna. I grabbed him by the back of his jacket and pulled him away from them. When he didn’t shake me off or ask why I was acting like a lunatic, I thanked God and started for the door.