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“I’ll drive.”
Sarah and Daisy share a stunned look. I’m sure they had a whole strategy worked out, figured they’d have to persuade me or wear me down. But no, nothing could stop me from going to that party tonight. I even cave when they insist on putting some makeup on me and curling my long hair into soft waves. But I stick to my guns when they try to dress us up like triplets in miniskirts, short boots and shirts from Sarah’s closet.
“But they’re different!” Sarah whines.
“No way! It’s the same shirt in three different colors.” Taking in our trio, I manage to smile and laugh at us in the mirror. “We look ridiculous!”
There’s a lot I don’t say. I don’t tell them that I cannot, under any circumstances, wear this miniskirt that barely skims the middle of my thighs. When I slipped it on, Daisy slapped the back of my leg, making some comment about how life isn’t fair or something. The jokes and laughter fade out to a distant muffle as I fight off a wave of nausea.Nothing happened, I repeat it like a mantra, berating myself. But I feel the rough denim of his jeans wedging my legs apart, feel my cheek scraping against the brick wall, feel his clammy hand circling my throat as he moves in close.
Stuck-up bitch.
I’m rubbing my cheek to ease the pain when Daisy calls me back to the present. “Maybe Charlotte’s right, we do look a little ridiculous.”
“Well, I’m sticking with this because I look hot.”
I look over to see Sarah modeling a pair of oversized sunglasses that make her look like an insect, along with the wig her mom used last year when she was going through chemo. It’s a fire engine red, chin-length bob. A few tears escape when the three of us simultaneously burst out laughing. Laughing when life sucks lemons. It’s just what I needed.
* * *
Simon
Always so serious.
Her friends are giggling, bouncing with nervous energy and sucking down whatever is in their red cups. Charlotte smiles as she looks around, observing. She holds her cup but doesn’t drink.
I told myself that if she did come here tonight, I’d allow myself to take. I’d forget about all the reasons why I shouldn’t, and for once I’d let myself have what I want.
She’s here.
I’m finding it hard to concentrate, to hold conversations or feign interest in what people are saying to me. Cora, a girl I know from honors, is asking me about Northwestern, asking me when I’m flying out for orientation. Flying? At this rate I’ll be selling my truck and hitchhiking my way to Chicago in August. My orientation is two days before classes start in the fall, I tell her. Then she goes on to fill me in on her roommate search and how excited she is as she prepares to leave for Philly in September. I catch maybe fifty percent of what she’s saying. Cora’s a nice person, pretty and smart, but there’s a different girl standing no more than twenty feet away who owns me.
My ears perk up when Cora starts in on the prom again. I told her after school today that I had no plans on going but obviously I didn’t express myself clearly.
“So the prom, Simon. I know you don’t have a date yet.”Crap. Cora looks nervous and hopeful. “I already bought two tickets, so if that’s the issue, then—”
“Let me stop you right there.” Fuck if any girl is paying for my prom ticket. “I’m not going. It has nothing to do with that.” I know I’m poor, don’t need anyone reminding me of the fact. And while I know that wasn’t Cora’s intention, it’s hard to quell the shame and anger rising up in me. “I appreciate the offer, but…” I’m about to make up an excuse, say that I won’t be around that weekend, but it’s a blatant lie and I won’t do it. “I’m not going, Cora.” Her hurt look makes me feel guilty, but I don’t owe this girl my life story. “I know Dave needs a date. I’m sure he’d love to go with you.”
She nods and cracks a forced smile. “Yeah, maybe I’ll ask him.” The ensuing silence is torture, and I breathe a sigh of relief when she finally says, “See you later,” and walks away.
Garth hands me a beer, my first of the night. “Another broken heart left in the wake of the legendary Simon Wade.”
“I can’t wait until the damn prom is over.”
“Four weeks.” He claps me on the back. “And don’t ruin it for me…I cannot wait until that very special night.”
“People make too much of it.”
“Jeez…You’re like Scrooge, man. That night’s going to be the highlight of senior year. I still think you should go.” When I fix him with a look, Garth raises his palms. “I know, I know…I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
“Gracias.”
“It’s different for me, Simon. You’re itching to leave, to get out of here.” He lifts both arms out to his sides and looks around him, surveying the scene. “I just don’t see why people feel that way about this place. It’s like you can only see gray skies but I see the sun shining. I see everyone at Jacob’s Creek in the summertime, whooping it up. I see us all camping, fishing, kicking back with the girls. I love it here, I always have.”
“Nothing wrong with that. I just feel, I don’t know, like I’m suffocating here, like I’ve got to get away. This place doesn’t exactly hold great childhood memories for me.” That’s probably more than I’ve ever said to Garth about my life and I don’t like the feeling that follows. I feel exposed.
I’m grateful when Sienna and some other girls make their way over. Gives me a chance to excuse myself. I dump the contents of my cup onto the ground when I see her standing a few feet from the keg. Some kid is talking to her, same kid who helped with her locker that day. I recognize him. He’s a junior, plays baseball. He’s clearly making a play for Charlotte but she’s giving him that same distant smile she did last time. I listen in, taking my time as I pump the keg and fill up a few other kids’ cups before my own. He’s telling her about his stable and horses, asking if she knows how to ride.
“A few times when I was younger, but I wouldn’t say I know how to ride.”
