Free Vengeance by Megan Miranda Page A

there was the dunk tank. I got in line for a burger and saw Delaney’s mom when I reached the front. “Hi, honey,” she said. “Your mom is at the hot dog station.” She pointed her finger across the parking lot. “Have you seen Ron? He was supposed to come straight from work. His shift at the grill starts in ten.” God. Everyone was here. Even Delaney’s dad. I would’ve thought that my dad dying and our house being flooded might’ve changed my mom’s plans. But no.
    “No, sorry,” I said as I walked toward the ketchup station.
    Everyone was going through the motions of their normal lives. My mom was handing out hot dogs for a fund-raiser. Joanne was worried about scheduling.
    Kevin was climbing into the dunk tank like he was genuinely looking forward to this.
    “It’s supposed to be Carson.” I spun around in line, and Janna was holding a hamburger down at her side, watching as Kevin launched himself over the plastic wall of the dunk tank while people applauded. Her eyes were wide and bloodshot. “This was always his thing.”
    It was true. Everyone wanted to take a shot at Carson, who was all too willing to go along with it. Saluting as the principal wound up to throw, taunting the guys, teasing the girls. But it had been eight months. Eight months.
    I couldn’t hear Kevin from across the lot, but he was smiling, and he was yelling something at the guy with the ball in his hand. Even the way he was sitting reminded me of Carson. “Kev is doing the job just fine,” I said.
    His whole act was like one big CARSON WAS HERE. You couldn’t look at him without seeing Carson. Without remembering. I couldn’t not remember, especially with her standing this close.
    She tossed her barely eaten burger into the trash. “When I talk to you,” she said, “I feel like you’re not even hearing me.” She was staring me down, and I was staring back at her, and then Justin was walking toward us. “I thought you of all people would understand.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said.
    “Me too,” she whispered. Then she wrinkled her nose at me. “Can we skip the hugging-it-out part?”
    I left her with Justin. Patted her on the head as I passed, messing up her curls, like I’d done for years.
    One of the teachers was pulling a hose toward the dunk tank. He turned on the nozzle, spraying several unsuspecting seniors. Their screams turned to laughter, their clothes dripping wet, and I lost my appetite. Everyone here was acting like everything was normal.
    I saw Justin near the dunk tank, with his elbow resting on Janna’s shoulder. She shrugged him off but didn’t resist when he hung an arm over her shoulder instead. I saw Kevin push himself out of the churning water, shaking his head, flinging the water on everyone nearby. They shrieked as they backed away. Except for Maya. She was close to the tank still, like she didn’t mind at all. And she had this smile—the kind that was meant for only him.
    I wondered if Kevin ever saw the other side of her—the side that stood on my porch and turned cold. Or if I was even meant to see the smile she gave him now. If there are sides to everyone that you never know, that they save for different people.
    The principal drew back his arm, winding up to pitch. He smiled as he said, “I’m going to enjoy this more than you know.” He threw a strike at the bull’s-eye, sending Kevin deep into the water again. You could hear him yelling, or maybe laughing, under the water, as bubbles rose to the surface. He stayed near the bottom, his hands pressed to the plastic, smiling at us all.
    Delaney, dripping wet as I pulled her from the ice .
    My dad, staring at the lake water on his hand .
    The water pooling around the broken glass .
    Water, seeping across my floor .
    I felt nauseous, walked to the nearest trash can, and rested my forearms on the black plastic ledge. I dropped my burger inside and tried to think of anything else. Instead I pictured the trash can in 2B’s room as I righted