Chapter Twenty-Six
Kelli
The refreshments table over by the choir stand had summer sausages, smoked salmon cakes, salted crackers, five different kinds of cheese, toasted ravioli, Greek spinach dip, asparagus, and pistachio bruschetta. These alone almost made the trip worth it, but what I was really after were the drinks. There was a bubbly, fizzy drink the pale amber color of ginger ale. I wasn’t much of a drinker—I hadn’t taken my first sip of alcohol until I was twenty-three—and I couldn’t tell the difference between champagne and sparkling punch, but I knew this was one of the two, and I liked it.
Zack and Carson came looking for me and found me standing over against the refreshments table. I was holding a clear plastic cup and sucking on a Thin Mint. Carson held up a lumpy pear, out of which he had taken exactly one bite.
“They really didn’t skimp on this, did they?” He motioned to the table with its perfectly folded napkins and chocolate fountain. “Almost makes me wish we could have one of these every day.”
“I, for one, will be glad when it’s over,” said Zack, echoing my own feelings. “I can’t wait to go home and get out of this uniform, maybe play some Mario Kart.” I had an odd feeling he was trying to make himself sound lazier than he really is. If I had to guess, he would be working on his secret book all night.
“Same,” said Carson, setting the pear down on a corner of the table and picking up a piece of dark chocolate. “If I wasn’t here, I’d probably be chilling in my apartment eating a frozen pizza. One of those gross, messy pizzas you can get in the freezer aisle at Wal-Mart for like two dollars, that come out of the oven just dripping in grease.”
“Okay, now you’re making me hungry,” said Zack, walking over and grabbing a paper plate off the stack. “If they actually served those pizzas here instead of whatever this is, it might have been worth getting out of bed for.”
“You mean you don’t like eating mini peppers stuffed with goat cheese or whatever the hell this is?” asked Carson sarcastically. He shook his head and made a tsk-ing noise with his tongue. “And I thought I knew you.”
“There’s only so much you can learn about a man when you’re forced to eat the same meal together every day for ten months.” Zack bit the end off of a stuffed pepper, made a disgusted look, and scraped it onto my plate. “Kelli, if you thought the Congo was bad, you should’ve eaten with us in Libya.”
“Was it really that bad?” I asked Carson.
Carson took a bite of his pear. “Let’s just say I won’t complain if I never have to eat Spam again in my life.”
“Almost makes me appreciate the salmon cakes,” said Zack, spearing a white cheese cube with a toothpick and putting it in his mouth. In the process, he jostled me with his elbow, and the fizzy drink went flying out of my hands onto the carpet.
“Sorry about that,” said Zack, throwing the stain on the carpet a regretful look. “Damn good drink.”
“At least there’s plenty more of it,” said Carson. “Anyway, what’ve you got going on tonight? Wanna come over and play Smash Bros.?”
I had rather hoped that Zack would be coming back to my place. I turned back to the refreshments, trying not to make it obvious that I was listening to his response. I filled one of the smaller plates with cheddar cheese cubes and dark chocolate, and then, because my appetite for that sparkling drink was insatiable, I grabbed a second cup. But my hands must still have been slippery from when Zack jostled me, for the cup slipped out of my fingers the second I picked it up. Fizzy amber-colored liquid spilled all over the front of my dress.
I swore under my breath, and for a second it was hard to see clearly because I was so mortified. Zack and Carson were still talking about getting together that night and didn’t seem to have noticed what had happened. I murmured an apology and ran to the back of the room, toward the restrooms.
There, I surveyed the damage. It was even worse than I’d feared: the liquid had soaked through the top of the dress, exposing my blue bra to public view. I swore again, loudly, and slammed my fist against the mirror as if thinking my reflection was somehow to blame for what had happened.
All at once, I was transported back to my first year in high school. I was fifteen, and we had just returned from Somalia where I had spent most of my childhood. Things like Nintendo and going to the movies with friends on a Friday night and deodorant were foreign concepts. And I remembered sitting in the cafeteria on the first day and crying because the other girls had done up their hair in lovely braids, or had cut it fashionably short with bleached blond highlights, and I had no idea how to wear mine, and it was just a long, tangled mess. And there were stains on the front of my dress and a mysterious smell followed me everywhere and no one wanted to sit next to me.
When Zack knocked on the door of the bathroom about twenty minutes later, I was sitting in one of the stalls, crying.
“You okay, shortbread?” I heard him say. “I don’t want to come all the way in there because I don’t want to get in trouble, but when you didn’t answer my texts I thought I ought to come check on you.”
“I’m fine,” I said, though the lump in my voice instantly gave me away. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
When I emerged into the hallway leading back into the main room, I found him standing there waiting for me.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“It’s this,” I said, motioning to the front of my shirt. “I didn’t want to come out because I didn’t want to embarrass you. I was afraid this was going to happen, because it always happens, because I’m such a screw-up and I can’t seem to go anywhere without embarrassing myself. And I just wish—”
I paused, my eyes drawn to a shiny gold medal pinned on the front of his uniform that hadn’t been there thirty minutes before.
“Zack,” I said, my face burning with guilt and shame. “You didn’t tell me you were getting a medal.”
“Well, I wasn’t exactly going to brag about it,” said Zack, though he puffed his chest out proudly. “Anyway, the real prize was the jealous looks on the faces of all those guys when they saw us together. You know when you were down in the Congo, half of ‘em were scheming ways to get you in their beds. But none of ‘em did.”
“So maybe it’s your safety I should be worried about.” I placed my arm in his and led him out of the hall, beginning to feel better. “Why didn’t you invite your family?”
“They couldn’t make it,” said Zack, “but I’m flying back home to Texas in a couple weeks, and they wanted me to let you know you were welcome to come along. We’d have to find a place for you to sleep, but it’s no big deal. My mama would love to have you.”
I nodded eagerly, tears springing back into my eyes but not from sorrow. “Yeah, I’d love to go. I haven’t spent a lot of time in Texas.”
“You think you could get off work?”
“Yeah, I’m sure I can talk my boss into letting me work remotely for a few weeks.”
When we got back to the table I draped one of the cloth napkins over the bodice of my dress. It was a slightly more off-white color than the dress itself, but no one made a big deal out of it, and I spent most of the reception with my body pressed close to Zack’s. We danced some old-timey dances while a brass band played Miller and Fitzgerald.
I drank another three cups of the fizzy drink, and by the end of the night I couldn’t tell if I was floating because of the alcohol or because I was drunk on the lights and applause and music. It felt like one of those nights we had every so often in college where me and a couple of friends stayed out until all hours watching the stars glitter in the night sky and celebrating the fact that we were here for this short moment.
I was reminded of that on the way home as I rested my head on Zack’s arm and stroked his rough skin. I liked the feel of him next to me, his scent and warmth. Every now and then, I was thrilled just to discover anew that he existed at all.