Last Dance

Home > Young Adult > Last Dance > Page 16
Last Dance Page 16

by Caroline B. Cooney


  To think that Anne’s first consideration was making the room pretty for Emily’s sake! Emily’s own mother had never cared whether Emily liked her room or not. In fact, at this point, her own mother didn’t seem to care if Emily even had a room or not.

  “Your mother won’t mind?” Emily asked anxiously. “She’ll think it’s all right for me to stay a while? Anne, I don’t even know how long! It could be months, it could be—I mean, I just don’t know anything! I don’t even have my clothes. I don’t have anything!” Emily started to cry again, and Matt got agitated, and shifted all over the daybed with nervousness. Emily fought back her tears.

  “Are you kidding? She’ll be thrilled,” Anne said. “First of all, decorating a room is something she knows how to do. My mother will be so happy to be back where she knows what she’s doing.”

  Matt, being a boy and slightly thick, said, “Oh, what’s she been doing lately that she doesn’t know how to do?”

  “Having her first grandchild,” Anne said.

  Matt decided to shut up.

  Emily thought that surfing must be like this. At last you could stand up on the board! The wave carried you, and the sun smiled on you, and the water cooled you, and you skimmed toward the shore. Emily was heading for the shore; she was not going to drown after all.

  At first when you knew Anne, you knew only her beauty and perfection and it sort of tired you out. You felt unequal to it. But later you found out there was this really neat girl inside all that beauty. Living with Anne would be pretty wonderful. Her parents would be kind, nobody would raise a voice or a hand against Emily, and she would have somebody to talk to! It sounded much too good to be true. “Maybe we should call your mother up and ask her,” Emily said nervously.

  Matt liked that. Get this straightened out, stop crying, go back with other normal people and maybe have something to eat. “Well, then,” he said, “let’s go. Phone is in the hall.”

  “Next to the food, huh?” Anne teased. She stood up and shook out the folds of her dress and ran her fingers through her lovely sleek blonde hair. Matt did not notice her. He was watching Emily. He loves her, Anne thought. He really does. I wonder if he’s ever said so. Is there a single boy here who’s ever actually used that old L word?

  This time Emily cooperated when Matt wanted her to stand up. She looked nervously in the mirrors to see what damage all this crying had done to her. Matt could not stop touching her. He tucked her hair back behind her ears, and adjusted the long earrings so they fell straight, and he ran his finger down the long back zipper of the dress he had picked out, and fiddled with the tiny silver knots. “You look pretty good, M&M.”

  That’s it, Anne thought. That’s as close to the old L word as Matt is going to come, if I know boys. All he can tell her is, she looks pretty good.

  Matt and Emily kissed each other: not the kind of kiss Anne had ever done with Con. They pursed their lips and they tilted ever so slightly toward each other until their lips touched. After a moment of frozen kiss, they tilted until their faces were squashed together. Then Matt grinned and Emily giggled, and they moved apart and did it again. Anne wanted Con to kiss her like that.

  Not a kiss that was a prelude to sex, but a kiss that meant—here I am! and I think you’re cute and funny and neat to be around! I know what I’d like to do with Con, thought Anne. Be friends again. But I don’t think he can.

  Anne remembered Molly. The girl didn’t seem to be in the bathroom anymore. It would be hard to miss her, in that short purple slab of a dress she had on. Probably went to find Con, Anne thought. And this time it was Anne who felt tired: so tired she did not see how she could walk after Matt and Emily. They would be in love, walking together just as Beth Rose and Gary had, and she, Anne, would be alone. Better get used to it, girl, Anne thought. Because this is your last dance.

  With Con, anyhow.

  Because Gary came for Beth Rose, and Matt came for Emily, but nobody came for me. No Con finished fire fighting and came searching for me.

  For a moment she thought she, too, would break down and cry, but she got past it, and then Matt remembered her, and put his arm around her, too. The three of them paraded down the hall toward the phone (and the food) and Anne managed to laugh with them.

  She and Emily would go home together, and they would get their acts together, and figure out what they were going to do with their lives.

  And it would be good enough.

  Con thought, I am such a little kid.

  I haven’t grown up at all.

  I mean, you would think becoming a father and all that would have matured me at least a little tiny bit.

  But no.

  Here I am, still the little kid, still an annoying, noisy, stupid, aggravating little kid.

  Con was grinning.

  He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.

  All the action was behind him, between the mountain and the Inn, where the firetrucks and the smoke and the frantic manager were making a racket. All the kids were either watching that, or inside watching each other. But me, Con Winters thought, I am watching Molly.

  He had not been this happy in months.

  Just thinking about it made him feel absolutely terrific.

  He ran after Molly.

  Pammy congratulated Kip on an excellent job of fire fighting. Then she got to the important part. “Listen, Kip, I have two questions. Were you born on an ocean liner and have you skied in six countries?”

  Mike, not letting go of Kip at all because Lee was circling the place, had forgotten all about the VCR questionnaire. He stared at Pammy wondering if she had lost her mind. Girls were peculiar creatures, definitely, but what kind of questions were those?

  “Pammy,” he said wearily, “do you mind? I gotta get Kip to the girls’ room for repairs.”

  Kip said, “Ocean liner, Pammy, that’s me.”

  Pammy crowed like a rooster.

  Mike thought, Girls are so weird. He said, “What are you talking about?”

  “I was born on an ocean liner, of course,” said his girlfriend.

  “You?” Mike repeated. “Go on.”

  Kip glared at him. She had always had a short temper, and here it came again. “What’s the matter, Michael?” she said. “You don’t think anything interesting could ever have happened to me?”

  Somehow Pammy had gotten between Mike and Kip.

  Mike tried to maneuver around Pammy, but Pammy’s elbows and pencil were in the way and before he knew it, Lee was back, saying, “You were born on an ocean liner? Tell me about it! That sounds like a great story.”

  “Oh, it is,” Kip said, and she walked away with Lee.

  “Goodie, goodie, goodie,” crowed Pammy. “I’ve got everything but this last one! Oh, I’m going to win that VCR, I know I am, I can start renting my movies right now! Mike, how many countries have you been skiing in?”

  The band began playing again, and everybody was sort of surprised. They had been too busy thinking fire to think dance. The girls instantly changed gear and wanted to begin dancing again. The boys still thought there was plenty to say about the fire and there was no reason to ruin a perfectly wonderful night by going and dancing.

  Beth Rose shrieked, “Kip! Your dress! Your hair! Your face! Are you all right! Oh, no! Oh, Kip, what’ll we do?”

  Kip was one of the few girls in the ballroom who often forgot about looks. She had a tendency to check herself at home before she left for school and not remember anything like hair or lipstick again till the following morning. She knew her blouse was torn, and her skirt ruined, but she hadn’t really thought of her hair yet, or her face, or her hands and arms.

  “Thank you, Beth Rose,” Lee said acidly. “She was fine till you started screaming.”

  “Fine?” Beth Rose repeated. “She may be your definition of fine, but she’s my definition of very bad shape. Come with me, Kip.”

  Gary was sick and tired of the women’s room. He just wanted to be with Beth Rose. Why did she have to go an
d rescue Kip, who even filthy and torn looked completely in control? Gary moaned, “That women’s room has seen more action tonight than it usually does in a year,” he said. “Come on, Bethie, stay with me. Kip—”

  He almost said, “Kip can take care of herself,” which was certainly true. But that remark would not earn him any points. As it was Beth Rose glared at him. “I did what you wanted earlier in the evening,” she said acidly, “and now—”

  Gary nodded twenty times. “Right. Right. Now we’ll do what you want. You set up housekeeping in the women’s room and notify me when you’re done. Right. Good idea. Go with it.”

  He and Beth Rose laughed, and he didn’t kiss her, because there were too many guys around, but he grinned at her and knew that they were still friends.

  Gary wondered briefly what had happened to Con.

  Con had a habit of disappearing when the going got rough.

  Gary readily understood.

  Girls could put a lot of pressure on you.

  But still. Anne. Con should either go with her or not go with her.

  Anne was looking down. Gary couldn’t stand people being depressed. He said, “Anne, still the evening star. Shall we dance?”

  “Actually,” Anne said, “I think we shall eat first. Then we shall dance.”

  “You understand the call of the empty stomach. I like that in a girl.” Gary flirted with her easily, not having to pay attention to it, because it was second nature to him. And he knew Anne didn’t care one way or another about him. They filled paper plates with goodies and drank large sodas too quickly and leaned against a wall with Matt and Emily.

  Molly was right by the pool when she heard Con calling her.

  She turned and saw him framed against the hillside: the black of the grass at night, and the silvery sky in the moonlight. He was taller than she was, and now he loomed up like an Olympic athlete, bounding gracefully toward her.

  I won, Molly thought.

  He wants me.

  Triumph ran through her, and victorious laughter bubbled up and she wanted to yell, Come look at this, Anne. You think you’re so great, Anne? Well, look who he wants! Not you, you ice maiden with your perfect elegant hair! But me. Me. Molly Elmer Nelmes!

  She tilted her body sensuously and waited for Con.

  Kip found herself hustled down the hall by Beth Rose, and she was of two minds about this. If she really looked that ghastly, she wanted to be cleaned up. But she didn’t care nearly as much about her looks as she cared about Mike and Lee. Mike actually had seemed interested in her again, as though it were not, after all, the last dance—but a reprieve. In Mike’s eyes and in his embrace Kip had felt his original crush on her returning: he had seemed glad to be near her, and proud of her, and excited by her. And Lee—he was definitely without question glad to be near her and excited by her.

  Kip muttered, “Beth, can it wait?”

  “Can what wait?”

  “How awful I look.”

  The girls stopped walking and Beth Rose looked intently into Kip’s eyes. Kip whispered, so Lee couldn’t hear, “I mean, I’d rather spend the time with him unless it’s Disaster City.”

  It was definitely Disaster City.

  It was Disaster Nation, as far as Beth Rose could see.

  On the other hand, Lee was no disaster. Lee was cute and built and interested in Kip, and a person could not discount that just to wash her face. So Beth Rose said, “What do you think we should do about her dress, Lee?”

  “What can you do?” Lee said practically. “You don’t have another one hanging around, do you?”

  “Good point,” Beth Rose said. “Let’s—uh—let’s all go into the women’s room and wash her face and stuff and then we’ll just go back to the dance—and uh—dance!”

  “All?” Lee repeated. “All go into the girls’ room? I’m not the right gender, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  In Lee’s case, it was very easy to notice. A wrestler like Gary? You didn’t overlook that kind of thing, not if, like Beth Rose, you found boys the most interesting scenery on earth. She said, “Oh, I’ve been hanging out there for hours, and so have Matt and Gary. You’ll feel right at home.”

  “Uh. I don’t think so.” Lee looked as though he might cut and run, which was definitely not what the girls had in mind for him. Hastily Beth Rose said, “Okay, okay. You wait here. We’ll take exactly two minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Lee used his two minutes to find a sheet. It was white and it had lace trim; it was used in one of the suites upstairs. But it would make a great toga for Kip. When the girls came out again, the soot was gone from Kip’s face and her hair no longer had half-burned leaves in it, and her hands were clean. Her dress was still the complete shambles it had been. Lee said, “I have a toga for you. Here.” He held up the lovely white sheet.

  Beth Rose and Kip exchanged glances and grinned behind the protection of the sheet. Beth Rose nodded and Kip nodded back at her. Beth Rose and Lee wrapped Kip in the sheet draping it tightly. Beth Rose said, “We don’t need this old sleeve; it’s torn to shreds anyway,” and she ripped it off the rest of the way, so that now, in her white sheet, Kip had one bare shoulder and one bare arm.

  Lee grinned from ear to ear.

  Beth Rose looked at the other two and thought, Togas are pretty sexy.

  Then she thought, Lee is pretty sexy!

  And then, because every girl loves a romance, whether its hers or not, Beth Rose thought, This is a perfect dance.

  Con just kept right on running. It made him feel terrific and incredibly strong, like a race horse going for the jump. Molly was in the perfect position, about a foot from the pool’s edge. He stuck out a hand, palm first, like stopping traffic, and as Molly cooed hello, Con pushed her into the pool. He kept running, taking an enormous leap over the corner of the pool and landing safely on the tiles. Behind him the water rose in a huge splash and Molly’s scream turned into a gurgle as she went under. Con plowed to a stop in front of the thick bushes. He turned around to make sure Molly could swim, and she could, so he squatted down and said to her, “Molly, old girl. So far tonight you’ve shoved Anne in the water and you’ve started a forest fire. I think it’s time to cut your losses and drive on home.”

  Chapter 14

  THE FIRST FIRE TRUCK to arrive was the first to leave.

  Gary and Beth Rose were dancing as it swung slowly down the mountain road and back toward town. Beth Rose’s eyes were closed, and she was barely even swaying. Gary simply shifted his weight from left to right and stared over her red hair and into the black night beyond the windows.

  He kept reliving the falling sensation he had had inside back during those horrible moments when he really thought Beth had fallen off the cliff. It seemed silly now. Why, like Kip, had he not known right away that Beth had just joined the dance? He would have preferred to sit and let the falling feeling go away, instead of standing here halfway imitating it.

  But Beth Rose wanted to dance, and he wanted her to have her way for a change, so he danced.

  He thought about the following day, and what he was doing then. A bunch of his friends who would never come to a dance, not if they were paid a salary to do it, were going to a car race. Gary loved races of any kind: men, horses, cars, dogs—he didn’t care. He would never consider taking Beth Rose, or even telling her about it. It was not her kind of thing, and he just wanted to be with the guys there, anyhow. He wished he could give Beth Rose a slot: say, Tuesdays and Saturdays, leaving the rest for himself and his buddies. But girls didn’t do that, not happily, anyway, so Gary accepted the compromise. It was not in him to waste time arguing either with himself or with Beth Rose.

  Con opened the door to the ballroom.

  More than one girl looked up to admire him.

  He had a slouching sort of arrogance, like a rock star who couldn’t be bothered with his fans, who knows they will come back to him no matter how rude he is.

  “Con’s back,” Gary murmured to Beth, because
she had been terribly worried. She said that if Con abandoned Anne one more time, Anne would lose it. Gary didn’t think for one minute that Anne would lose it. Con might. From guilt. But not Anne. Anne was much stronger. That was why Con needed her, in Gary’s opinion: Con was the kind of boy who was only half there without his girlfriend.

  Beth opened her eyes and followed Con’s progress. The dance floor was crowded now, and Con threaded between couples. It was slow going. Or perhaps Con had to go slowly to get his courage up to face Anne, with whom he had not spent one minute so far this evening.

  Either Matt and Emily had adopted Anne, or else Anne had adopted them.

  Beth Rose was finding it difficult to tell the strong ones from the fading ones. “Do you ever think you have something completely psyched out,” she asked Gary, “only to find you don’t understand anything at all?”

  Gary laughed. “All the time.” He followed Beth Rose’s eyes. “But if you’re thinking of Con, that’s pretty easy to understand.”

  “Oh, good. Tell me.”

  “He just didn’t want to deal with it. He had a choice and Anne didn’t.”

  “But he’s going to deal with it now,” Beth Rose said. She wondered why she was standing up for Con. In many ways she despised Con. Yet in the end she always wanted him to be okay.

  “No,” Gary said firmly. “It, meaning a pregnant girlfriend, it no longer exists. He’ll never have to deal with it. He just has to deal with tonight.”

  Beth Rose wanted terribly to join the others. She wanted to hear how Con dealt with tonight, and whether he mentioned it and whether Anne forgave him. But she didn’t want to admit to Gary that parts of her heart were dying out here away from the real action.

  Gary began laughing. “You can’t even wrench your eyes off them,” he teased.

  “I can so. I’m not paying the least bit of attention.”

  Beth Rose had to laugh at herself even as she pretended.

 

‹ Prev