by S. L. Naeole
“He’s not. Things have just been a bit…difficult around here,” I said as he led me to a newer model car that sat at the curb where Graham’s car used to park.
“Well, I totally understand why he’s like that. I mean, here I am, some dorky stranger coming to take his daughter out to prom instead of her perfect boyfriend. Of course, if he knew me, he’d know that there’s no chance in hell that you and I would ever hook up. This is just totally platonic and stuff, two friends going to prom and having a good time.”
He held out the box to me and grinned. “Here. I had canceled my order when you canceled our date, so when I went to the florist there was nothing pre-packaged left. I saw this flower sitting in the vase that the lady had on her counter and asked if she could make you a corsage out of it. He opened the lid and I bit my lip as he pulled out the same type of pink and white speckled flower that Robert had given to me the morning of our first date.
I held my wrist out as he tied the ribbon around it and then thanked him softly, too overcome with memories to say anything too significant. He opened the car door and held it for me as I climbed in. I pulled my dress in and waited while he closed the door and ran around to the driver’s side, getting in and starting the car up with a quiet whirr. “This is my sister’s car. She’s not exactly going to be using it for the next day or two, so I thought I’d borrow it for the night. You ready?”
I nodded and then we were off, leaving a worried Dad to wave goodbye in the doorway. I was glad that Shawn hadn’t spotted the shadow that seemed to follow us from above as we headed towards the school gym where the prom was being held.
***
“You want me to bet you a flask of drums?”
“What?”
“I said, ‘do you want me to get you a glass of punch’?”
Shawn held his mouth to my ear, his voice as loud as he dared and yet it was barely loud enough to be heard about the slamming bass that boomed all through the Mylar and crepe paper filled gymnasium.
“Oh, sure,” I answered, and nodded just in case he didn’t hear me.
“Okay!” He disappeared into the crowded dance floor in front of us, and I sighed with relief, turning to rest my head on the table that we had been assigned and wondering why I had bothered coming to an event like this.
As soon as we’d arrived, the crowd of kids swarmed in, questions and gossip spilling off their lips. No one knew where Mr. Branke was—he was supposed to chaperone but was a no-show. Erica’s parents reported her missing that morning, and the rumors that Erica and Mr. Branke had run off together spread like wildfire throughout the prom.
Then came the questions about me. No one wanted to accept that I was at prom with Shawn because he had asked, even when he swore up and down that it was true. And most annoying of all, everyone wanted to know what Stacy looked like dead.
I let Shawn drag me to the floor a couple of times before faking a sore ankle. He was gracious about it, and soon went off to dance with a few girls who had come stag. Lark and Graham were on the dance floor as well, their bodies moving to a song that only they could hear, their eyes locked on each other, their thoughts attuned to only each other’s. I took a small joy in that before allowing a sort of bitterness to tease me with its bile, and then sent it away when Shawn returned, my smile back on my face.
“Here you go,” he shouted, handing me a plastic cup filled with watered down red liquid. “I think it’s been spiked.”
“How do you know?” I shouted before taking a careful sip.
“Because I saw Chad pouring something into the punch bowl before I got there.”
“What would he pour in it?”
“I don’t know, but I would drink it slowly if I were you.”
“Aren’t you going to have some?” I asked, seeing that he had no cup in front of him.
“Nah. I’m DD, remember?”
I nodded and grinned. “Are you DD a lot?”
“Yeah. I’m also the only one who has regular access to a car, so being designated driver is pretty much a guarantee for me. I don’t mind, though. I kinda like being the responsible one. Chad and Dwayne, they’re meant to be crazy and stuff.”
I smiled and nodded once more and slowly sipped the spiked drink, hoping that whatever it was that Chad had put into it would help numb me on the inside as much as I felt numb on the outside.
A voice boomed in over the loudspeakers and interrupted whatever it was that Shawn was about to shriek into my ear. “Okay, Heath Bulldogs. It’s time for the last dance, so grab your partners and get on the floor as we say goodbye to another year of memories.”
“You want to get up there? One last hurrah?” Shawn asked, his eyes hopeful.
“Sure,” I replied, and allowed him to pull me up to the floor. I rested my hands on his shoulders as the music started, and my feet froze into place.
“What’s wrong?”
I looked over my shoulder and saw the DJ with the headphones over his ears, obviously listening to something other than what he was playing because the song that I heard in my head was something completely different. It was a song meant for lovers, for people destined to be together, not for two friends having “one last hurrah”.
“This song,” I stumbled, my lip quivering as I fought to contain my grief. “This song…”
“Hey, look, if this song isn’t what you want to dance to, let’s get off of the floor,” Shawn insisted and began to pull me away.
He continued to pull me until we were out of the gym and I was once again in his car, staring out of the window as the street lamps passed by in blurs of amber light that brought a chill to me. Shawn took this as me being cold and cranked up the heat, though he looked to be sweltering in his tux jacket. I reached over and turned it down, giving him a smile of thanks but unable to say anything—I worried that opening my mouth would signal my brain to just unleash my thoughts, as though he would understand and appreciate them.
We pulled up to my house and I saw that the front door light was on, but nothing else; the rest of the house was dark. “I guess they decided not to wait up for me,” I said with a half-laugh.
“That’s because they have nothing to worry about, remember?” Shawn replied, his laughter equally heartless.
“Listen, Shawn, I want to thank you for tonight. I know that I wasn’t exactly the best prom date ever, but you helped to make this night, at least for me, something that I’ll always remember. It was exactly how I had hoped it would be.”
I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He flushed instantly, and I felt the warmth hit his face before I pulled away. “Aw now you’ve gone and made me feel all chivalrous and crap,” he said with a slight stutter.
“You know, you’re wrong, Grace. You were the best prom date ever. And I’m not just saying that because you’re the only prom date I’ve had. Not many girls would be okay with their dates looking the way I do, or dancing with other girls and being silly on the dance floor, or having friends who spiked the punch and all that jazz. If you hadn’t called, I probably would have been spending another night at the hospital watching my older sister change diapers and listening to my brother-in-law talk about how the Browns have got a chance this year.
“So I gotta thank you, Grace, for being a good friend to me and giving me one of the best nights of my life. I don’t think that there’ll be another night like this for me for a while. Maybe two, three days tops.”
This time, when I laughed, it was filled with warmth. “Thank you, Shawn. Don’t worry about walking me to the door. I’ll be okay. I’ll see you on Monday.”
I opened the car door and closed it behind me, making sure to wave as I headed towards the front door. With gentle hands, I turned the knob, glad that Dad hadn’t locked it since I had not taken my key with me. I took my shoes off and padded up the stairs towards Matthew’s room.
I peeked in on him and saw his sleeping form in his crib. Not wanting to disturb him, I closed his door and walked to my room. I turned the li
ght on and looked at my bed, seeing it neat and made, the bags that had held my dress now hanging in my closet, the shoebox sitting in front of the closet door, waiting for the strappy sandals to be returned.
I lifted the hem of the two dresses and pulled them up over my head, too tired to even bother fighting with those carpal-tunnel-creating hooks at the moment, and lay the inside-out bundle on the dresser to be dealt with in the morning.
I pulled out a t-shirt from the top drawer that didn’t have all of Katie’s makeup in it and put it on. I tugged the earrings out of my ears and walked towards my window, lifting it up and jumping back with a start.
“Is everything alright here?”
Lark’s face floated above my window sill, and I nodded. “Yes. Everything is fine.”
“Okay. Good-night.”
I tried to say it back, but she was gone again. She hadn’t shown up out of concern, but duty. That’s all that that was left between us now that Robert was dead.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered out into the night, hoping that it would be carried to her, to anyone who felt the same bitter resentment. I didn’t blame them one bit. I resented myself.
I sat down on my bed and leaned back, resting my head on a bent arm as I stared at the ceiling. I stayed that way for what felt like hours before getting up and turning off the light.
“I’ll get my makeup in the morning,” I mumbled before slamming my face into a pillow and closing my eyes.
The breeze outside began to pick up and the curtains began to blow out towards me, tickling my arm and annoying me enough to drag my head out from the confines of my pillow and open my eyes. The billowing fabric was blowing wildly and I sat up, frustrated as I groggily padded towards the window, sticking my head outside to view the activity going on beyond the confines of my room. The wind was whistling as it blew down the street, leaves and errant trash that had escaped its bins riding the currents towards the next block.
“Stupid wind.” I shut my window and felt the rattle of the pressure that doing so created, and then I felt just the lightest glance of something touching my foot. I looked down and saw whatever it was roll beneath the bed. I bent down and lifted the bed skirt and saw the shadow of something small as I reached towards it and pulled it out.
It was the braided grass ring that had found its home on my finger for a brief period of time before everything happened. Lark must have found it and returned it. The fact that it had survived was a miracle. Through the corner of my eyes, I caught the movement of a shadow and squeaked.
“Stupid shadows,” I grumbled when I realized that the shadow of a person I saw reflected against my wall was merely my own head blocking out what light came in through the window.
I gently rolled the ring between my fingers and wondered whether or not it would be right to put it on, and if I did, which finger should it sit on? I sat down on my bed and examined the band in the moonlight before my eyes began to grow heavy. I sank down and lowered my head to my pillow, the ring tucked into the pocket of my palm, and decided to figure things out in the morning.
I closed my eyes once more and prayed that I would dream about Robert. It wouldn’t be fair to have him in my dreams, but nowhere else. I had survived for one day without him thanks to the distractions I had forced upon myself, but tomorrow held nothing for me. There would be no normal routine, there would be no anticipation, no longing, no anything.
Sighing, I let my body relax and drift off into a mercifully dreamless sleep, but the feeling of something scratching at my face soon disturbed the quiet respite. I slapped away the annoying attacker, and tried to return to the peacefulness of an empty mind but again, the rubbing became too much to ignore and I sat up once more, irritated by this unwelcomed intrusion.
I drowsily left my bed and headed towards the bathroom, flipping on the light and staring half-asleep at my face, half-expecting to see deep gouges in my cheeks, and instead finding that my makeup had rubbed off on the pillow. Well great, now I’d have to do laundry in the morning.
“Fabulous,” I grumbled before flipping the bathroom light off and returning to my room, shutting the door behind me and climbing back into my bed with far less patience and much more bitterness than when I had left it.
Only the bed wasn’t empty.
“I told you, I love your freckles.”
I scrambled out of the bed, landing on the floor with a loud thud, a grunt slipping past my lips. I pushed myself backwards with my feet until my back was pressed against the wall beneath the window. My hands flew up to my mouth to hold in a scream as I stared at the figure on my bed who was propping himself up on his elbow, two silver-ringed irises acting as spotlights directed on me while his lips moved to speak once more.
“So we meet again.”
EPILOGUE: WHAT CAN WAIT FOR TOMORROW WILL
“Two weeks left until graduation.”
The flyers that were emblazoned with the reminder were everywhere, shouting the announcement in bright colors as seniors prepared to move on to the next chapter of their lives, and juniors prepared to finally take over the school.
“So, did you get your confirmation letter yet?”
Graham looked at me from over the cafeteria table, his hand holding onto Lark’s fiercely, his eyes filled with excitement.
“Yes, I did,” I answered before burying my nose even further into my book.
“Well? Are you excited to be going?”
I raised my head and looked at his anticipatory expression with a bit of ruefulness. “I’m not going.”
“What?”
This question came from Shawn who, along with the rest of the Chips and Dip, now sat with us at our table.
“I said I’m not going anywhere,” I repeated while he looked at me as though I had just sprouted a third eye and several horns had appeared from the tip of my nose.
“But you’re smart! You’re not genius smart, but you’re still pretty damn smart. You’re smarter than me, at least!”
“Madame Hidani’s hula hoop is smarter than you are,” Chad laughed before ducking a flying French fry tossed at him from Shawn’s direction.
“I’ve decided to put off college for a year,” I said to settle the questions before they grew in number. “My step-mom just lost her sister a few weeks ago and she needs my help with the baby. Also, I don’t want to spend the majority of my freshman year working just so I can spend whatever time I have left studying. So I’m just going to work for a year at my dad’s grocery store and save up some money and go to junior college.”
The chorus of disapproval was astounding, but two voices remained absent as they looked at me through storm colored eyes.
When will I be able to tell Graham the real reason you won’t be going to school?
Lark’s question startled me. It was the most she had spoken to me since she had learned that Robert was alive. They had waged a silent argument in my room when she appeared minutes after I discovered him on my bed, and then she stormed off, leaving Robert to apologize to me for things that I hadn’t heard but knew she had said before he himself left to finish their argument and clarify things that only he had heard.
I don’t know.
Robert, who had yet to explain to me what happened that night in the woods, shook his head. You cannot tell him. The fewer people who know, the better. Graham’s too close to Grace and those that know this are bound to use it against the both of them.
Lark’s eyes narrowed, her mouth turning down into a beautiful frown. He is my husband, Robert. I cannot keep this from him for long.
Robert’s eyes narrowed as well, matching malice for malice as he stared at his sister. You will be in Florida. He will be too busy with school there to know which questions to ask, and you will keep the rest of his free time occupied so he doesn’t have time to wonder.
I saw Lark’s hands grip onto the table, saw her fingers begin to dig into the laminate surface and cave it in like it were simple play-dough. You act as though that is all that we do.
>
Robert shrugged. I don’t care what the two of you do, as long as it keeps him from asking questions. Grace and her family’s safety are paramount. Whoever it was that Samael had been working with is still out there, and still wants to see Grace dead. The Seraphim have yet to hand down a sentence to me for Sam’s death, and it will most certainly include stipulations regarding her life, which you know can mean only one thing.
Knowing this, you also have to acknowledge that she will soon begin to receive the call again, as will I. Through some miracle, we have been given a second chance at doing things right, and I do not care if it insults you to hear that your role in all of this is to keep your husband from having a spare thought for anyone save you. Especially if it means that we can prevent more innocent people from dying
Innocent people. Erica and Mr. Branke had truly been innocent, despite their reputations. The school had made an announcement the Monday after prom that Mr. Branke had taken an early leave of absence, and wouldn’t be returning the following year. Erica’s parents began to post flyers up all over town, even handing out a reward for whomever it was that could help them locate her, but nothing ever came of it.
I never thought to ask what happened to their bodies, or what had happened to Mr. Branke’s car, and I doubt I ever would. Some things were simply better left unknown. I only hoped that someone could bring their families a little peace.
Lark stood up, her chair flying back and slamming into the wall with such force, a chip of concrete fell onto the ground from where the back had struck. One leg was bent beneath it, and there was a visible crack in the seat. “Come on, Graham. We’re leaving.”
Graham was in mid-joke with Dwayne when he saw the look on her face and stood up. “Uh, I’ll catch you guys later.” He grabbed his jacket and left, but not before giving me an apologetic look that hurt for me to see.
“Dude, that boy is whipped,” Chad said, shaking his head in disbelief.
