“Oh, Lee baby, you look beautiful.”
There were tears in Mom’s eyes when she looked at me, standing in the center of the living room in my prom attire. But for once, these weren’t tears of sadness or pain. She was happy, and that lifted at least a fraction of the anxiety from my chest.
“Thanks, Mom,” I said.
The dress was actually quite nice, if simple. It was jet black with thin straps that supported a heart-shaped neckline, giving the illusion that I actually had curves. The skirt flared out a bit at my hips so that it swirled around my ankles as I walked. It wasn’t dramatic or glamorous, but I was okay with that.
“Here,” Mom said. “I found some things for your hair.”
My hair was too short to do much with besides comb. But Mom walked over to me with a handful of small clips, each with little crystals attached. They were cheap, but once she shoved a couple into my hair, on either side of my face, they did add an element of polish.
“Oh,” she said, “and I picked up the lipstick you asked for.” She reached into a shopping bag by the couch and pulled out a small tube and passed it to me.
I smiled down at the familiar plastic casing. Carefully I pulled off the cap and rolled up the lipstick. It was a pretty shade of berry red that I knew would apply like a sheer wash of color across my lips. I handed the tube back to Mom and gestured for her to apply it, knowing I’d make a mess of it if I tried myself.
This had been Sarah’s favorite drugstore lipstick. On a whim, I’d asked Mom to pick it up from the store, and I was glad I did. It was silly. Sarah had been gone for more than three years, and I didn’t believe in ghosts or spirits or an afterlife at all. But wearing that lipstick still felt like carrying a little piece of her with me that night.
“Done,” Mom said, capping the lipstick and dropping it into the little black handbag she’d lent me for the evening. “Oh, my little girl is all grown up and going to prom. Where did the time go? It feels like yesterday that the nurse was handing you to me in the hospital. You were so tiny. And beautiful.”
“Mom.”
I was relieved to hear a light tapping on the front door, saving me from more of her sentimental gushing.
“Oh. There he is.” Mom went to the door and pulled it open. “Hi, Miles.”
Miles mumbled a greeting, and I stepped up next to Mom so I could see him. I figured he would look handsome in his tux—and he did, for the record—but the minute I saw him I burst into fits of laughter so painful that I almost doubled over.
Miles just grinned.
Even though I’d forgotten the deal we’d made the night we went shopping, he really had taken it seriously. The suit was black, as expected, but beneath the jacket, his vest and tie were a bright shade of neon orange.
It took a minute for me to get my laughter under control, and by then I had noticed Mrs. Mason standing in our yard, clutching her digital camera.
“My grandma wants to take pictures,” he said sheepishly.
“Oh my God, I almost forgot!” Mom grabbed her cell phone and shooed us out into the yard. “Hi, Mrs. Mason,” she said as she followed us down the steps and onto the grass. “Aren’t they adorable?”
We spent a solid twenty minutes posing in different spots around our two yards, with Mom and Mrs. Mason trying to find the best place to take photos. They positioned us like dolls, telling us where to look and how to stand. Occasionally, they’d jump into the pictures themselves. I was sure they’d taken over a hundred shots before they were interrupted by the buzz of my phone.
I pulled it from my purse and saw that Eden was trying to video chat with me.
I clicked to answer immediately. “Hey,” I said.
Eden’s face appeared on the screen. She was sitting on her bed, and I could see the bottom half of one of her anime wall scrolls on the wall behind her. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and beneath her glasses, I could see dark circles. But she smiled back at me.
“Is Miles already there? Did you see the orange monstrosity?”
“You knew?” I asked.
“He texted me a picture earlier,” she said. “Isn’t it hideous?”
“And perfect,” I said, smiling over at Miles, who had moved so that he could see Eden over my shoulder.
“Well, let me see you guys,” she said. “You know that’s what I’m here for.”
I passed the phone to my mom, who greeted Eden warmly as she backed up away from us and positioned the phone so that Eden could see Miles and me in our prom clothes.
“You two look great,” Eden said once I’d taken the phone back from Mom. “Even with the orange.”
“Thank you. We’re meeting Denny and his date at the school. Wish you were here with us. We miss you.”
“I miss you guys, too.” She smiled and shook her head. “I should let you go. You don’t want to be late.”
“Hold on,” I said. I looked over at Miles. “I’ll be right back. I forgot something in the house.”
He nodded and went to join my mom and his grandmother, who were already examining the pictures on Mom’s phone.
I took my phone inside and shut the door behind me. I hadn’t actually forgotten anything, but I didn’t want to talk to Eden in front of everyone. I hadn’t told Miles yet about what had happened when I visited Eden or what she’d admitted in her letter. I figured she would tell him when she was ready.
“So, how are you?” I asked, sinking down onto my couch.
“Uh … well, Misty and Jenny raided the room. Poured out all the alcohol. So it’s been kind of tough. But for the best, I guess.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“I hope so,” she said. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m looking forward to coming back to Virgil County in a couple weeks. It’ll be great to have you guys around again. Even if it’s just for the summer before you and Denny leave.”
“We’ll keep in touch,” I promised her.
“I know,” she said. “And Jenny’s already planned her first trip. My parents said she can stay with us over Fourth of July weekend. I’ve warned her that she’ll have to deal with an interrogation from Abuela. I think Jenny’s got an advantage, though. Abuela told me she likes her pink hair.”
“Your family will love her,” I said. “I bet it’ll be a lot of fun. And you know we’ll want to hang out with you guys, too. I have a feeling she and Denny will get along well.”
“Oh crap,” she said. “I hadn’t thought about that. I don’t know if I can handle two extroverts at the same time.”
I laughed, and a minute later we said our good-byes.
Miles was waiting by my truck when I stepped back outside.
“You two have fun,” Mom said, kissing me on the cheek. “Be safe. Call me if you need anything.”
Mrs. Mason gave me a hug, too, before embracing her grandson. “You grew up to be such a good boy. I’m so proud of you,” I heard her say.
But Miles didn’t seem happy to hear this. His face reddened and he ducked his head as she pulled away from him. “Thanks, Grandma.”
“You ready to go?” I asked.
He nodded.
We’d opted out of the group limo to save a little bit of money. Besides, being trapped in a confined space with half a dozen people, several of which weren’t people I knew well, felt like a panic attack waiting to happen on a night that was already bound to be anxiety ridden.
So we climbed into my truck and headed toward the school.
VCHS didn’t have a big prom budget, so the dance was being held in our gym. Despite this, it was actually pretty beautiful. A lot of effort had gone into making it look less like a basketball court and more like a ballroom. Banners in our school colors hung from the ceiling. The lights had been dimmed and a spotlight roamed around the floor as a DJ played an old Tim McGraw song. There were balloons and streamers and tables filled with snack foods.
And, yeah, it was a little cliché, but honestly, it was pretty much exactly how I’d imagined as a kid. The only difference was that Sarah wasn’t with me.
I swallowed. I knew that wasn’t going to be the last time I thought of her tonight. But I was determined to have fun, despite the longing ache her absence left me.
“Lee! Miles!”
We turned and saw Denny and Amber coming toward us. Amber looked beautiful in a baby-pink dress, but Denny was the one who got all of the attention. He was wearing a completely white tux with a matching white top hat. On anyone else it would have looked ridiculous—and, okay, maybe if you didn’t know Denny personally, it still would have looked ridiculous—but it just seemed to make perfect sense.
“You look amazing,” I said.
“I know,” Denny replied.
“I was talking to Glitter.”
For the record, the dog was wearing a black bow tie and was, in fact, quite precious.
“You always gotta outdo me, don’t you?” Miles asked.
Denny grinned, the apples of his cheeks pushing up his dark sunglasses. “It gives me purpose.”
“Why are we still standing here?” Amber asked. “Come on. Let’s dance.”
“The lady’s right,” Denny said.
Miles looked at me, that eyebrow raised, and I nodded, following him to the center of the room.
As we weaved through our peers, I realized just how crowded this gym was and couldn’t help but make a mental tally of where all the exits were, and I decided that there weren’t nearly enough ways out. If there was any kind of threat, there would be a stampede for the doors. It would be a nightmare to get out of there. And a lot of people wouldn’t make it.
A list began to form in my mind of all the ways I might die at prom. A fire. A bomb. Another shooting. There were too many possibilities. Too many paths that led to oblivion.
I focused on steadying my breathing and kept my eyes on Miles’s back as I followed him through the crowd.
“How do you dance with a guide dog?” I heard him ask Denny, who laughed. But before I got the answer, a hand closed like a vise around my wrist.
I yelped and spun around, my chest seizing up with panic. This was it, I thought. This was the end. The last thing I was going to see before I died was …
Tara Chambers.
She was standing too close, her face a twisted, hateful version of her sister’s as her fingernails dug into my arm. I tried to pull free, but the terror had made me shaky, and her grip was tight.
“You should leave,” she spat. “No one wants you here, you filthy liar.”
“Hey.” Miles was pushing his way through the crowd, back toward me. “Back off.”
“She’s the one who needs to back off,” Tara shot back. “She’s the one causing trouble.”
“Uh, maybe I’m missing something, because I’m blind and all.” Denny was suddenly at my other shoulder. “But that’s really not how this seems.”
“I can’t believe you all would defend her,” Tara said. “After everything my sister has done for you? For her? How can you let her get away with this?”
“Get away with what?” Amber demanded. Now she’d joined us, too. “Talking about Sarah? You weren’t there, Tara. Neither of us were. You don’t know what happened, either.”
“You too, Amber? What about Sarah?”
“What about you let go of Lee,” Miles said, his voice low and more menacing than I’d heard it in years.
Tara growled and tossed my arm away from her. I stumbled back, still startled and trembling as Miles caught me, placing a hand on my shoulder to keep me steady. To keep me grounded.
“It should’ve been you that died in the bathroom that day, Lee,” Tara said, before storming off, red dress whipping around her like flames.
“I can’t believe she just said that,” Amber gasped. “That’s awful.”
“You okay?” Miles murmured.
I nodded. “I’ll be fine. Just startled. Thanks, you guys.”
“Don’t let her ruin your night,” Denny said. “Come on. I’ve got to prove to Miles that I’m the better dance partner.”
“Why’s it gotta be a competition with you?”
“You’re only asking me that because you know I’m the obvious winner.”
One of the teachers chaperoning the dance volunteered to hold on to Glitter while Denny and Amber danced. After a few minutes, my nerves had mostly settled, but my heart was still racing for a completely different reason.
Miles had his hands on my waist, and my arms were around his neck. Neither of us are dancers, so we mostly just stood in one place and swayed along to the music. The DJ (also known as Mrs. Keebler, our English teacher) seemed to have a soft spot for country love songs. I wished she’d play something faster. Something that wouldn’t make it so easy to lean into Miles and rest my head on his shoulder.
“Dunno if I said it earlier, but you look beautiful,” Miles said.
“Thanks,” I said, hating the blush I felt crawling up my neck. “You don’t clean up bad yourself. Though, the orange …”
“Worth it for the way it made you laugh.”
“I regret not following through on our clashing colors idea,” I said. “Can you imagine if I showed up in, like … lime green?”
He smiled. “That would have been great. But nah. I like this one.” He hesitated a moment. “Lee, I gotta ask something.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling wary.
“I was thinking … how’d you feel about some company on your drive to California?”
“You want to go with me?”
“Just for the drive. Maybe stay a weekend and fly back.” His shoulders shrugged beneath my hands. “Not like I got plans after graduation. Honestly never thought I’d make it this far. But I got a little money saved and … I don’t know. Grandma thinks I should look into vocational school—like for welding or something—but I’ve been thinking of maybe going to community college for a couple years, maybe transferring, majoring in history … if any bigger school will have me. Anyway, thought maybe a road trip would be a good chance to figure some stuff out. If you’d be up for the company.”
“I’d love that,” I said, unable and unwilling to fight the grin that—almost painfully—stretched my cheeks.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah! It’s a long drive, and Mom probably can’t afford to take that much time off work. And I’d … I’d love for you to come with me.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
We danced in silence for a few minutes after that. I hadn’t realized that we’d been drawing closer to one another until there was almost no space between us. It just felt right, being near him like this. It felt like all those nights on my roof, the calm that came with his arm around my shoulder or his fingers laced through mine. The sense of comfort that came just from having him near.
“You know,” he murmured, “tonight got off to a bad start, but … I’m glad you decided to come.”
“Me too.” The words came out as a whisper. “I know it took me a while to come around to the idea, but now that I’m here …”
“Yeah?”
“Now that I’m here, I … don’t think I’d want to be anywhere else tonight.”
He smiled, and his arms tightened around my waist. Despite my anxiety about the crowded gym and the incident with Tara, I felt overcome with this sense of ease. This feeling that I was safe.
Before I’d realized it, I’d taken a step closer, bridging the last bit of space between us, and rested my head on his shoulder. The fabric of his jacket was cool and soft beneath my cheek. I could feel his breath in my hair. Could smell the fresh mint of his soap. And everything was perfect.
Which was the problem.
When the song ended, it yanked me back to reality. The poppy beat of a new song was a sharp reminder that this was exactly what I didn’t want to happen.
I pulled away from Miles, and it was like stepping out of warm water and into the chill of winter. The sense of comfort faded away, and I was flooded with the fears I’d battled earlier that evening. It was all too overwhelming, moving from one extreme to another, and everything was swamped with fresh guilt.
“You okay?” Miles asked as I stepped away from him and pressed a hand to my forehead.
“I just need some air,” I said, stumbling back another step. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Before he could say anything, I grabbed my handbag from a nearby chair and headed toward the closest exit.
I ended up out in the parking lot, the night breeze raising goose bumps on my bare arms. I leaned back against the brick wall of the building and took a few deep breaths.
Out in the open, away from the crowd, it was easier to let that familiar anxiety slip away again. But all that did was make the muddled feelings about Miles clearer. I’d told myself we’d just come as friends, that I’d keep my boundaries up and everything would be fine. But when I was dancing with him, I’d wanted more.
I always wanted more.
But then what? I asked myself. We date for a few months until I go to California, and he’ll eventually find another girl who actually wants to sleep with him.
I shook that thought away. It wasn’t being asexual that worried me. It was that, if we did break up, be it because of sex or just distance and time, I didn’t know what that would mean for us, for our friendship. I hadn’t cared about someone this much since Sarah, and God, if I lost Miles, I don’t know what I would do.
But this—getting close, pulling away, constantly building new, higher walls between us for safety—that could tear us apart, too.
I wanted to be with Miles, but I was scared. And I wanted Sarah there with me, to tell me what to do. I already knew what she’d say. She’d drag me back inside and tell me I was being ridiculous, that I should “kiss the boy already.”
I almost laughed imagining it.
And then I wanted to cry.
My phone buzzed in my purse. I pulled it out and saw a text from Mom. She’d sent along one of the photos of Miles and me in front of our house. This one’s my favorite, she’d typed. I took one look at the picture and closed the message. I needed to not think about Miles for a minute.
I found distraction in other text messages. I’d sent another to Kellie that morning, but she hadn’t responded. A couple of days earlier, I’d also started leaving voice mails. I didn’t even think twice about clicking her name and hitting the call button. Trying to get ahold of her felt so familiar at this point. Focusing on the letters, obsessing over collecting them, was easier than dealing with the issue right in front of me.
The call was on its third ring when the door next to me opened and Miles stepped out into the parking lot. “There you are,” he said. “You okay?”
I held up a hand, gesturing for him to wait as Kellie’s voice mail picked up.
“Hey, Kellie. This is Lee Bauer. Again. I hope you’re getting these messages. Listen, if you could give me a call back, I’d appreciate it. It’s really important. Okay. Bye.”
When I hung up the phone, Miles was scowling at me. “You’re calling her now?”
“Texting wasn’t getting me anywhere, so—”
“So maybe you should leave her alone. Give her space.”
“I can’t. I still need her letter.”
He shook his head. “Let the letters go, Lee.”
“What? No. Why would I do that?” I asked. “You keep saying stuff like this. What’s your problem with the letters, anyway?”
“Nothing,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dress pants.
Rage bubbled up inside of me. It was irrational, I know, but I was suddenly so furious with him. I was angry that he didn’t understand why these letters mattered. Angry that he’d let me get so close to him when he’d promised we’d just be coming to prom as friends. Angry that every time I pulled away from him, the world felt a little colder.
“Stop doing that!” I yelled, because I just wanted to yell at him. “Stop being all cryptic and vague about why I should let this go. Why? What is your problem?”
“Drop it, Lee,” he said. “Let’s just go back inside.”
“No,” I snapped. “Why won’t you write a letter?”
“Lee.”
“Why won’t you do it?”
“I’m going back in.”
I grabbed his arm to stop him. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong with you.”
He shook me off and took a step back, his eyes flashing dark. “What’s wrong with me?” he asked, his voice raised. “You’re the one who is obsessed with these stupid letters!”
“Because they’re important!”
“To who?”
“To everyone,” I said. “The truth is important to everyone.”
“No, it’s important to you,” he said, pointing a finger at my chest. His voice was so loud, so harsh, that I flinched away in surprise. “This isn’t about the truth, Lee. It’s about you. You and your guilt.”
“I’m trying to make things better.”
“Kellie doesn’t want to talk to you!”
“She will once she understands what I’m doing.”
“Not everyone wants to talk about it, Lee.” He was shouting at me. He’d never shouted at me before. And even though I didn’t feel threatened by him, it was still unsettling. “Maybe you and Denny and Ashley and Eden have stories you think the world should hear, but not all of us do. The truth isn’t going to set all of us free. People don’t want to hear my truth. Especially not you.”
“Miles … What are you talking about?” I asked. He was pacing now, his hands in his curly hair. I just stood there, staring. “I know what happened to you already. I know about the awful things those reporters wrote about you. How people misunderstood you. And you were the bravest of all of us that day. Why would you have a problem writing about that?”
“Because I’m—”
He was cut off by the exit door opening again. A couple of girls, dressed in purple and blue, came stumbling out, their arms intertwined. They looked between us, then began whispering to each other, giggling behind their hands, as they moved toward a nearby car.
When they were gone, I turned to look at Miles again. He was staring at his feet, hands shoved back into his pockets.
“Miles …”
“I’m gonna go.”
“What?”
“I can’t do this right now.”
“Miles, you can’t walk home. I’m your ride.”
But he was already moving through the parking lot, toward the front of the school. And he didn’t look back.
I stood in the dimly lit parking lot for a long time after he’d vanished. I couldn’t go inside, couldn’t look at Denny and Amber and try to explain what had just happened. Mostly because I didn’t know how to explain. I wasn’t sure how we’d gone from such a perfect moment, dancing together, talking about driving across the country together, to screaming at each other in the parking lot.
And now he was gone.
I didn’t want to be there anymore. Not without him. So I pulled my keys from my bag and headed to my truck.
I drove around town with the radio blasting for a while. I knew if I went home too early, Mom would want to know what was wrong, and I was too tired to deal with her worry.
The lights were off when I finally did pull into my driveway. The windows were dark next door, too. I wondered if Miles had made it home, and how. I wondered if I should try to go talk to him or just let him have some space for the night. Part of me wanted to apologize, though I honestly didn’t know what I had done wrong. Pushed him too much, obviously, but for a good reason.
I thought.
I’d just cut the engine when I heard my phone buzz. I lunged for it, certain it was him. Certain he was going to tell me we should talk. Certain he’d want to explain.
But the text message I’d just received wasn’t from Miles.
It was from Kellie Gaynor.