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I watch her go to the counter, pick up her box, and leave the restaurant.
From the other side of the table, Gabriel picks up a taco and looks at me. “Sorry, man, that was harsh.” He takes a bite and then adds, “And I apologize if I came on too strongly earlier, I was just…” He shrugs. “You know.”
“Nah, man, I get it. You were trying to get your woman back, same as me.”
A minute passes before he talks again. “So you’re the doctor?”
“You’ve heard about me?”
A smirk creases his features, making him look more human and less cyborg. “Only bad things, I’m afraid.”
“Not that I don’t deserve it.” I bow my head. “For what it’s worth, I hope your grand apology goes better than mine.” I stretch a hand across the table. “Name’s John by the way.”
“Gabriel.”
We shake hands and eat the rest of our lunch in companionable, manly silence.
19
MARISSA
The Saturday after The Lunch That Shall Never Be Mentioned Again, I set in motion my part of the plan to help Gabriel win Blake back. I scoop her up from her couch, force her to shower, and bring her to her parents’ house where I do her hair and makeup in an exact replica of what she should’ve looked like at eighteen on prom night.
Getting her to wear the dress proves a tad more difficult because by now she’s caught on to me and knows exactly where I’m sending her. To squish all protests, I call in my IOU, and there’s nothing she can do about it. She has to go.
With one last glare, my best friend walks down the stairs to go meet Gabriel who’s already waiting out on the porch.
I go back to her room, tidy all the loose makeup, and sit on the bed for a minute. I don’t want to see Gabriel tie a corsage to her wrist. Or her dad taking pictures of them on the porch. Or them leaving in a limousine.
It all reminds me too much of that night. The last night Johnny and I were together, the last night we kissed, the last night he held me in his arms as we slow danced across the gym. Before everything shattered.
Now that I know what he was about to do, I realize why his gaze had seemed more intense than usual that night, his expression graver. At the time, I’d chalked it down to him being nervous because we were about to lose our virginity. Now I know it was because he had no intention of showing up at the hotel. How long had he known he was leaving? How long had he been planning his escape?
I don’t want to think about it. But I can’t help it; images from that night of so long ago keep flashing before my eyes.
I get off the bed and go to the window. I lean my head against the cold glass and close my eyes, trying to forget. Trying to pretend it never happened.
Unbidden, John’s words from the other day at the taco restaurant replay in my head. I couldn’t do it in person. I never would’ve had the strength to say goodbye to you… I loved you too much… If we had made love that night, if we’d spent the entire summer making love, I was afraid I wouldn’t go—or that I’d be too broken when I did. We both would’ve been…
I shake my head, forcing my heart to keep steady. Lies. Petty excuses. If he loved me that much, he would’ve been broken anyway, same as me. He wouldn’t have fallen in love with another woman and married her. Had a child with her. Shotgun wedding or not.
I get away from the window and go downstairs. In the living room, I hug Blake’s parents goodbye and stroll down her street. I don’t call a car right away. I need to clear my head. The last few weeks have felt like a cosmic conspiracy to bring me back to the one night of my life I wish I could forget. Johnny is everywhere, prom is everywhere.
I hope at least Blake will get her happily ever after out of tonight.
I stare up at the blinking stars, wishing I, too, could have a fairytale ending one day. Then I look down again. The sky isn’t going to magically part and provide me with a happy ending. I’m the author of my own destiny.
I caress my belly. “You will be all the happiness and love I need.”
In the past few days, I’ve been checking myself out in the mirror every morning. I stand in front of the closet first thing as I get up and, turning sideways, I study my profile for any changes, mostly frowning at my still-flat stomach.
It’s another five days before I can take the pregnancy test. Am I pregnant? I don’t feel any different, but every Google search result on the planet assured me it’s too early to feel anything.
Despite the uncertainty, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. This baby isn’t born yet and he or she is already grounding me.
Hand still on my belly, I whisper into the night, “It’s going to be you and me against the world, little one.”
20
