Dare to Fall

by Estelle Maskame

  We look at one another for a long moment and I try to process why I’ve been lucky enough to have Jaden Hunter forgive me, to have him give me a second chance, to have him wait all this time for me to come back to him. I may not know why, but I do know that I’m so, so glad that he did.

  Smiling, Jaden exhales against my mouth as he closes his eyes again, leaning back in, capturing my lips once more.

  18

  Sitting on the corner of my bed, I carefully bend forward to slip on my silver, sparkling heels. I move my feet around, rolling my ankles until they fit as comfortably as possible, and then I stand up, balancing myself. I love the shoes, I do, but every time I wear them, I’m left suffering from painful blisters. That’s why there’s a stash of Band-Aids in the matching silver clutch bag on my dresser. I reach over to grab it, opening it and sliding in my phone, some cash and some body spray. I’ve been getting ready for the past couple hours, and I enjoy the process, mostly because there’s hardly ever an excuse in Windsor for dressing up nice. I love having the chance to change from a pair of jeans to a dress.

  Right as I’m clicking my clutch shut, the doorbell rings, and Mom yells my name from somewhere downstairs. Will’s early. It’s not even 7:30PM yet, so he shouldn’t be here for at least another fifteen minutes, but I don’t panic too much since I’m pretty much ready to go as it is. We’ll have plenty of time for photographs, where I’ll have to do my annual awkward crouch down so that I’m not towering over him.

  I gently fetch my glitzy, dangling earrings from my dresser and move over to my full-length mirror, leaning in close as I insert them. I remove my helix piercing while I’m at it, but only for tonight, only for homecoming. And then, taking a step back again, I pause and take a moment to run my eyes over my reflection.

  My hair falls over my shoulders in loose, bouncy waves with the front swept to one side and pinned back. I don’t do it very often, but I love wearing my hair curly, all bouncy and shiny. The knee-length chiffon, cobalt-blue dress I’m wearing fits almost perfectly, cinching my waist and making my legs look longer. It’s light and airy, floating around me whenever I move. The bodice is decorated with sparkling, silver beading and diamanté gems—it’s low, heart-shaped, and maybe too revealing, but I like it. My nails are painted to match and my fingers display a small collection of silver rings. My makeup is more natural for a change, so the freckles that dust my nose and cheeks are more noticeable than they usually are. They’re the only thing I would change about myself if I could. I have high, hollowed cheekbones, carefully bronzed and defined to perfection for the occasion, and I like my bright eyes—a deep, warm shade of chocolate just like my mom’s. I have her strong, sharp jawline too.

  “Kenzie!” Mom yells again, though this time it’s much louder as she calls up from the foot of the staircase.

  I give myself one final glance, and then turn away from the mirror, grabbing the first bottle of perfume from my dresser that comes to hand and spraying myself with a couple spritzes of the luscious, sweet fragrance. I run my fingers through the ends of my hair as I leave my room, making extra sure I don’t trip over my own feet as I step out onto the landing.

  Mom is waiting at the bottom of the stairs for me with her dark hair clipped back and an eyebrow teasingly raised. To my surprise, there’s a large box of gorgeous flowers in her arms, so big that she has to tilt her chin up in order to look over them. The budding flowers are a beautiful collection of different shades of pink that spill over the edge of the glittery box they’re in and already I can smell the floral, fresh scent in the air. My heart beats a little faster than it should. I’ve never received flowers before.

  “These were left on the porch,” Mom tells me as I descend the stairs, “and I doubt they’re for me.” She smiles wide as I reach her, nodding down at the flowers and urging me to read the small card that’s attached. She peers around the box and her gaze sweeps over me, then she straightens back up and says, “You look gorgeous.” Her eyes are bright with pride but, for a fleeting moment, I see sadness. I know exactly why. This is the last ever time she’ll be watching her daughter head off to the homecoming dance when, in a perfect world, she was supposed to do this four more times with Grace. Mom appreciates these moments a lot more than I think she would have if the circumstances had been different.

  I give her a reassuring smile back and tell her, “Thanks, Mom.” I glance down at the flowers again, inhaling their freshness. My cheeks flood with warmth as I pinch the small card between my thumb and forefinger, squinting at the tiny handwriting.

  After last night, I’m entirely convinced these flowers are from Jaden and I’m grinning at the thought of the kiss we shared. My skin is still tingling from his touch and my stomach flutters in anticipation for tonight to arrive just so that I can see him again.

  However, my heart immediately sinks in my chest when I read the words that have been written:

  I’m sorry about last weekend. I’ll wait for you, Kenz. Enjoy the dance. –D

  Darren. My smile quickly falters and I squeeze my eyes shut. The gesture is sweet, and I know the flowers must have been expensive, especially for a broke college student like Darren, but it frustrates me all the same. When I open my eyes again, Mom is frowning back at me, confused by my lack of excitement, so I give her a minute shake of my head and then finally take the box from her.

  “Darren,” I mumble, and that’s all she needs to know. Rolling my eyes, I shift past her and carry the box of flowers down the hall and into the kitchen, heels clicking against the floor. I slide the flowers onto the counter and stand back, thoughtfully studying them with my arms folded across my chest, the detailing on my dress scratching against my skin.

  I know Darren is trying his best, but there is a line and he keeps crossing it. I know he cares about me, and I know just how desperately he wants us to get back together. I keep trying to remind myself that he was a good guy when we were together, and I do appreciate the effort, but it is becoming overwhelming now. I just want to be friends with him and nothing more—I wish he understood that.

  The doorbell rings again, echoing down the hall, and it has to be Will this time. I spin around on my heels and make my way back out of the kitchen just as Mom’s swinging open the front door to reveal Will’s enormous grin. He’s standing on the porch, sandy hair perfectly flicked into position just out of his eyes, dressed smartly in his light dress pants and shoes, white shirt neatly pressed and, of course, his blue bow tie.

  “You look great, Will!” Mom tells him with a beaming smile, reaching for his arm and gently pulling him inside. She’s already reaching for her cell phone, desperate to take pictures of us together just like the previous three years. “Very handsome.”

  “Thank you,” Will says, bowing his head once and reaching up to adjust his bow tie rather dramatically. It’s a couple shades lighter than my dress, but it’s close enough. He smiles goofily at me. “Look at you,” he comments. “Looking good and ready on time!”

  “Pictures!” Mom orders, flapping her hands in the air to motion us into position. She’s sober and content, something that rarely ever happens simultaneously, so I let her have her moment of pride.

  “Oh God,” Will jokes, feigning despair as he glances up at me. I’m several inches taller than him, but with heels on the height difference is even more noticeable. I like to tease him so I straighten up and prop my elbow on his shoulder, leaning casually against him as Mom snaps some pictures.

  We head into the front yard to take our official, Instagram-worthy photos. The lawn is still freshly cut from last weekend, and Will and I take up our position on the grass just in front of his Jeep, with the sun setting just off in the distance to create a warm, golden glow. Will subtly tilts himself up onto his tiptoes and I even more subtly bend down a little so that we don’t look so silly next to one another. Mom takes enough pictures to last a lifetime, sending some over to Dad, who’s out on a job, and then waves us goodbye from the porch with teary eyes.

 
; “So,” Will says as we’re pulling on our seatbelts, “last ever homecoming. Emotional yet?”

  “Not really, but ask me again when prom comes around,” I say. He really does look adorable in his bow tie. It’s only a short drive to school and there’s something on my mind that I’m desperate to talk about before we get to the dance, so as Will starts up the engine, I clear my throat and ask, “What was up with Holden last night?”

  Will’s smile fades and then he shrugs. “He told me after we left that the Hunters make him uncomfortable. Oh, and he thinks you’re a hypocrite.”

  “A hypocrite?”

  “Yeah,” Will says, keeping his eyes on the road as he pulls out of my cul-de-sac. “Because you asked us to stay away from them, but now suddenly you’re with them all the time.”

  Holden’s right; I did ask them both to stay away from the Hunters because I couldn’t face seeing them. But that was a long time ago, back before I realized that I was wrong, back before I discovered that being around them doesn’t scare me as much as I thought it would. Frowning, I murmur, “Are you kidding me? He’s annoyed about that? I’m allowed to change my mind, and he should be glad now that he doesn’t have to avoid them on my behalf.”

  “I know,” Will says. “I’m glad you’re hanging out with them again.” He pauses for a brief moment. “When are you going to tell us what’s actually going on with you and the Hunters? And by the Hunters, I really mean Jaden.” He glances over at me once more, a smirk forming.

  My eyes fall to my lap and I gently brush my fingers over the chiffon of my dress. I know my friends aren’t oblivious to what’s going on between Jaden and me, but I still feel nervous to have to admit it.

  “I don’t know exactly what’s going on between us yet,” I begin, playing anxiously with my hands, “but I think we’re finally getting back to the place we were in a year ago.” Even just saying it out loud sends relief through me. I never thought this would happen. I never believed I still had a chance with Jaden. I suddenly feel giddy and I bite down on my lower lip in an attempt to hide the smile that’s spreading across my face.

  “Damn, oh damn,” Will says after a few seconds, elbowing me across the center console with a teasing grin. “It’s Jenzie: Round Two!”

  19

  Windsor High’s homecoming dance takes place in a giant marquee set up in the courtyard of the school, and the atmosphere is electric. Cars pull into the parking lot under the warm glow of the setting sun and groups of friends huddle together, posing for pictures. It’s warm out, and the buzz of excitement that fills the campus is nothing short of special. The young freshmen look adorable as the girls teeter along in their shoes and the guys look around wide-eyed, but the rest of us play it cool. Will and I stroll along casually, chatting to some of our fellow classmates as we wait for Holden and his date. He’s taking Olivia Vincent from the marching band, and although I don’t know her all that well, I do know that she’s a sweet girl. He’s had his eye on her for a while and it took him an entire week to build up the courage to ask her to be his date tonight, but Holden’s crushes are often short-lived. By the time prom rolls around, he’ll have the hots for someone else.

  As we wait, I keep an eye out for Jaden. I know he’s coming tonight and there’s a part of me that wishes we were going together. I still wish we’d had the chance to go together last year, and a not-so-small part of me is already thinking about prom. Just the thought of it has me smiling as I peer over Will’s shoulder, eyes roaming the parking lot.

  Holden is the one I end up spotting first. It’s impossible not to, given his sheer height and brooding expression. He’s wearing all black, except the white tie that hangs loosely around his neck. He walks with his hands in his pockets as though he’s too cool to be here, but both Will and I know that, in fact, Holden does secretly enjoy the homecoming dance each year. By his side, Olivia Vincent is busy shoving her car keys into her bag as she totters across the parking lot, restricted by the excruciatingly tight-fitting white dress she’s wearing. When she glances up and fixes her hair for the third time, she smiles and waves to let us know that they’ve spotted us too.

  “Last ever homecoming!” Will announces yet again as they near us, stepping forward and bumping fists with Holden, who really doesn’t look all that thrilled to be here and who has yet to make eye contact with me.

  Olivia, on the other hand, seems over the moon. We exchange a warm, friendly smile and I tell her, “I love your dress.”

  “Thanks!” she says, gesturing back at me. “I love yours.”

  I glance over at Holden and he is fiddling awkwardly with the buttons on his jacket even though they are already all done up. I am still annoyed at him for the way he behaved last night, and I think he feels bad about it, because now he has his tail between his legs. “You look nice, Kenz,” he mumbles, glancing up briefly. He gives me a small smile before returning to the issue of his jacket buttons, but I’ll take it.

  “Right back at you,” I reply, and then leave it at that. I can question him another time about last night’s events—a time that isn’t our final homecoming dance.

  “C’mon,” Will says, “let’s head inside.” Flicking his hair in a way that lets me know he’s ready to make an entrance, he reaches for my wrist and interlocks our arms, escorting me across the school grounds toward the courtyard as Holden and Olivia follow on our heels.

  It’s just after 8PM and already I can hear the music pumping all around the campus. The atmosphere is a complete buzz as the last remaining stragglers, including us, get in line to enter. I still haven’t clocked Jaden yet, so he must already be inside. I adjust and readjust my dress as I consider what exactly I will say to him when I see him. Last night, we finally kissed. I know I just have to act normal, but I’m really starting to hate the fact that I become shy around him, nervous and blushing beyond belief. It’s so not me.

  Tickets exchanged, Will leads me inside to the dance. The marquee is large enough to hold the entire student body, with huge circular tables lining the walls—most of which are claimed already—and the DJ set up over by the dance floor. The main lights are dimmed, with strobe-lighting rather frantically emitting from the DJ booth, and I complete a full scan of the tent in search of Jaden, only to be disappointed when I still can’t find him. I really hope he hasn’t bailed, but I haven’t caught sight of his date, Eleanor Boosey, yet either, so perhaps they’re just late.

  “I love this song!” Will yells, and before I’ve even had a chance to soak up the atmosphere, fetch myself a drink or even sit down, his hand is in mine and he’s pulling me to the center of the dance floor. There are only a few others up already, mostly because everyone else is still settling in and feeling too awkward to start busting out their moves just yet. But not Will. I’m not the best dancer by any means, but Will is really something. He’s the kind of dancer that gives it so much enthusiasm that you forget your own inhibitions and just get involved, so I’ve learned to stop worrying about how I look and to just enjoy myself. I glance over my shoulder to check if Holden and Olivia have followed, but they haven’t. They disappear into the cafeteria to grab some drinks, probably because Holden is an even worse dancer than I am.

  Will reaches for my hand again and twirls me around twice, causing my dress to fan out around me, and I find myself laughing as I crash back into him. He catches me against his chest and steadies me, but that’s when I finally see Jaden over his shoulder.

  He and Eleanor have just walked in. They linger to the side for a moment as they look around, though I think Ellie may be searching for her friends. However, my attention isn’t on her but on the boy standing next to her. Jaden looks extremely handsome in his black pants, white shirt and black bow tie. It’s a change from his usual black jeans or football jersey, and his hair is perfectly styled, gelled back into a tousled quiff like something out of a movie. He has one hand in his pocket and his blue eyes carefully move around the marquee until they eventually land on me. Jaden’s small smile stretche
s into a grin and I swear he may have blushed, or maybe it’s just me. I smile back at him, anxiously biting my lower lip. I can still feel his touch from last night. We exchange a smile for what feels like forever before I finally lift my hand and wave. He gives me a tiny wave back, right before Ellie reaches for his wrist and pulls him off to one of the tables where her group of friends is sitting.

  “Looking like a dead fish isn’t a dance move, Kenzie!” Will yells into my ear, grabbing my arms and forcing me to dance. I do begin to move again, now feeling increasingly self-conscious about my dance skills. Every once in a while I look back over to Jaden. I catch glimpses of him and Ellie sitting together, and try to guess what they’re discussing. I check for any signs of flirtation, but can’t see anything to worry about. Still, I can’t help but wish he was with me.

  Will and I stay up dancing for a long time. The music is actually pretty good—a mixture of current chart music and iconic pop songs from our childhood. Gradually more people come up to join us, including Jess and Kailee, and before long there’s a big group of us jumping around together. I don’t dance with Holden, not just because I imagine it will be awkward, but because when he does finally drag himself onto the dance floor he just stands at the very edge, chatting to some of the guys from the football team. Will is showing no signs of giving up, but it’s getting so hot that I think all my makeup must have melted right off by now. I can already feel the blisters forming on my feet and the dryness in my throat.

  “Time out,” I tell Will rather breathlessly. I’ve been laughing and singing for the better part of two hours, and if I push it any longer, I might just collapse. I don’t know how Will has so much stamina.