by Emily Lowry
The couch groaned as Tyler stood. He wandered across the room until he was beside Nina. “Mom’s not here. Someone needs to embarrass her. And to capture this moment for the world to see. My little sister, on her first date with a nerd.”
“First date, period,” Nina corrected.
I got off the couch and stood behind the two of them. I took a deep breath and looked to the top of the stairs.
Zoe was there. She was wearing a red dress that made her look like something out of a fairytale. Her dark hair tumbled down her back, and her cheeks were bright pink — she was blushing from the attention. I loved it when she blushed.
How many times was she going to make my jaw drop? As far as I was concerned, Zoe was the most beautiful girl on the planet. She was a sunset over an ocean, the alpenglow of the mountains, and the stars on a moonless night — all at once. My gift bag almost slipped out of my hand, and I had to make a conscious effort to hold on to it. I wanted to give her the present, but I didn’t want to do it in front of Nina and Tyler.
Ty nodded approvingly. “Dude, you clean up nice.”
“Nothing a girl loves more than being called dude,” Nina said, rolling her eyes. She smiled at Zoe. “You, my friend, look absolutely incredible.”
“Thank you,” Zoe said, her voice quiet. Our eyes met.
Still struggling to find the right words to compliment her, I opened my mouth to say something—
But the doorbell rang.
Tyler darted to the doorway too fast and swung it open.
“I’m here to pick up Zoe?” Kevin’s voice was nails on a chalkboard.
Tyler let him inside. He looped his arm casually around Kevin’s shoulder. “Now, if you’re taking my little sister on a date, there're some rules you’re going to need to follow, my dude. The first rule is—”
“The first rule is that you’re not supposed to listen to Tyler,” Nina said. She dug her claws into Tyler’s wrist and practically dragged him out of the room. “I don’t know how anyone puts up with you. Why don’t you just…”
Nina’s voice was lost as she and Ty disappeared into another area of the house, leaving me, Kevin, and Zoe alone.
Kevin didn’t even bother to look at me. Apparently, dumb jocks were beneath him. “We need to go,” he said. “The clock is ticking on my ride share. You ready?”
The clock is ticking? Was he kidding? With the amount of effort that Zoe put into her appearance, and the way she looked, that was something to be savored. Not rushed. Why would you rush through something that beautiful? That was like sitting on the beach and yelling at the sun to hurry up and set, already.
“Oh, ok,” Zoe said. “Sorry. I’ll catch up in just a sec.”
“Don’t take too long.” Kevin scurried out of the house.
It was just me and Zoe.
I could barely breathe. If there was ever a time to give her the present, this was it. I needed to do it. I needed to do it now. So why did the bag weigh so much? Why was it so hard to just hand it over? I couldn’t believe this was happening. Was I really just going to let Zoe walk away and go on a date with that jerk?
My lips parted. I had to say something, anything, but no words came out. What could I say that would sum up the best weeks of my life?
Zoe took a step towards me.
My breath caught.
She hugged me and rested her head on my chest.
I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed. Sometimes, when you hug a person, it just feels right. Like you’re connected with each other. And that’s how I felt when I hugged Zoe. When I danced with Zoe. When I laughed with Zoe. It was right. I wanted — desperately — to tell her how I felt, but it was too late to stop what was happening. Wasn’t it?
“Thank you,” she said. “For everything.”
“Of course,” I replied, squeezing her tightly. “I’m always around if you need me.”
She pulled away from me. “I hope that’s true.”
I forced a smile to hide the cracks in my heart. “Always.”
She stood on her tiptoes, kissed my cheek, then turned to the door.
Instinctively, my fingers rose to where her lips had been. I wanted to say something. Needed to say something. To at least give her the present. But how would I do that without messing up her date? Or completely ruining it. She wanted Kevin, I reminded myself. Kevin. Not Mason. I stood by the front door and watched her leave.
Kevin met her halfway down the driveway, and the two of them linked arms and walked towards the car.
There was no misery worse than watching the person you love walk away with someone else.
Kevin opened the door. Zoe got in the backseat and looked at me through the window. There was something in her eyes, something sad.
No, there wasn’t. There couldn’t be. I was wrong, I was just seeing what I wanted to see.
Kevin got in the car, the brake lights flared, and the car pulled away from the curb just as the first few drops of rain were falling again. The smell of fresh rain surrounded me.
I suddenly felt exhausted, and ancient. It was like every hit I’d taken during the Homecoming football game all piled on me at once. Somehow, I felt every bump, every bruise, every cut. I felt my ankle twist as cleats stepped on the back of my leg, my shoulder pop when the giant landed on me, my head ring after diving for a first down. I had to lean against the doorframe to keep from crumpling.
“Dude, you ready to celebrate?” Tyler was standing behind me.
“I’m tired, man. I’m going to head home.”
Tyler looked at me skeptically. “You okay?”
“Think the hits are catching up with me.” I gave him a fist bump. “Good game, man.”
“Good game.”
I stepped out into the rain, and Tyler shut the door.
I was still holding the gift bag. I peeked inside and smiled sadly. Zoe deserved this present. After all the work she put in, she definitely deserved it. And it was important to support the people you cared about, even if they were moving away from you. But I couldn’t go back inside and put it in the house. I’d have to leave it for her somewhere else.
Somewhere only she would find it.
43
Zoe
Our car drove through the rain, the tires splashing through puddles that reflected the neon lights of High Street. Kevin didn’t talk much during the drive, choosing instead to pull out his phone and play a game of chess online. That was okay. I didn’t feel like talking. If we talked, I didn’t know what I would say.
By the time we reached Snack N’ Smash, the rain was coming down hard.
Kevin nervously stared out the window. “Do you think it’ll stop?”
“Doubt it,” I said.
He frowned. “We’ll have to run for it.”
“Looks like it.”
Kevin nodded, steeling himself, then opened the door and sprinted to the restaurant, covering his head. He’d left me alone in the car.
I leaned across the backseat and closed the door. Mason wouldn’t have left me alone. Mason would’ve brought an umbrella. Or given me his jacket as a shield. Or something. He’d improvise. Treat the whole thing like some amazing rain dancing opportunity. Make me laugh. But I wasn’t here with Mason, I was here with Kevin. And that was okay — he deserved a chance too.
“Thank you for the ride.” I smiled at the driver, then stepped into the rain.
There was no point in running — I was soaked almost immediately. My hair, my makeup, my clothes. It was all pointless — I probably looked like a drowned rat. I had to stifle a laugh. My first date, my best laid plans, all destroyed by a bit of weather in the first fifteen minutes. Life was unpredictable, it didn’t really matter how much you prepared for it.
Kevin held the door open, his eyebrows raised. “You didn’t run for it.”
“Needed a shower,” I said. “I had to wash off the inch of grime that’s always covering me.”
Kevin wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”
I stepped pa
st him, rolling my eyes. Apparently, Kevin didn’t have a sense of humor. How had I not noticed that before? When you crushed on someone from a distance, you didn’t notice their flaws. Just their virtues. Even a small crush could blind you to everything else. It was like paint hiding the cracks in a wall. But eventually the paint chipped off, and the cracks showed.
The cracks in Kevin’s intellectual façade didn’t disappear as we ate — instead they grew larger. When the waiter came, Kevin ordered for both of us before I could protest. He got my order wrong, too, and I had to chase the waiter down to tell him that no, I did not want cilantro on anything.
Then, while we were eating, Kevin talked the entire time about chess, board games, and strategy. He claimed that intelligence was knowing that there was a right course of action, and that he had a gift of always knowing what the right move was. That’s why he was so good at chess. Apparently, he was playing some Russian grand master this weekend. Was he babbling nervously, like I used to, or did he just not care about anything I had to say? It was impossible to tell.
However, the worst offense came when the waiter guided us to the Smashing Room and gave us a plate to break to celebrate our first date in what the waiter assured us would be a long, amazing relationship.
Kevin held the plate in his hand, frowning. “I don’t understand. Why are we supposed to break the plate?”
“Tradition,” I said.
“It’s stupid,” Kevin replied. “Who breaks plates?”
I felt the urge to yank the plate from his hand. At least smashing something would add a slight thrill to this otherwise painfully boring first date.
“It’s a waste, is all I’m saying,” Kevin added. “It’s not smart. Smashing a perfectly good plate is something a neanderthal would do. ‘Oh hey, I’m a super tough man with plentiful muscles, and look at the thing I can break.’ It’s so stupid to just break something. But I guess those are the times we live in, aren’t they? No one’s impressed by a well-played game of chess, but everyone is impressed when some muscle head can kick a ball really far.”
My misery was quickly turning to annoyance. Was Kevin always this pretentious? How had I not noticed? “It’s just a plate,” I said. “And you don’t think sports requires any sort of intelligence? Ty always says football is like chess but athletic.”
Kevin snorted. “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard. Sorry, I know he’s your brother, but…”
“Yes. He is. And he’s not dumb.” I said. “Plus, Mason plays too.”
As if Kevin didn’t know this.
“Exactly,” Kevin said. “And you saw me play him at chess. He wasn’t even in the same league as me. I’m sure he’s a nice enough guy — dumb guys usually are — but he’s going to end up flipping burgers for his job. Or being a real estate agent.”
I wondered if I’d get kicked out of Snack N’ Smash for smashing a plate over Kevin’s head. It was probably better if I didn’t find out. “I have curfew,” I said. “I need to go home.”
“I have to break this stupid plate first.” Kevin casually tossed the plate like a frisbee. It hit the wall with all the force of a feather. Best of all, it didn’t break. It didn’t even chip. “I thought these plates were supposed to be easy to break.”
I shrugged. “Maybe if you played more sports, then you wouldn’t—”
“I wouldn’t what?” Kevin snapped, suddenly annoyed. “Throw like a girl?”
My blood boiled. I marched across the room, grabbed the plate, and hurled it against the wall.
It broke into a dozen pieces.
“Telling someone they throw like a girl isn’t an insult.” I glared at Kevin. “I’d rather throw like a girl than throw like you.”
He shrugged. “If you won’t be polite, you can find your own ride home. In the rain.”
“I plan to.”
44
Zoe
The walk home from High Street was only fifteen minutes, but by the time I made it to my driveway, I was drenched. I stood alone, in the rain, in front of my house.
All the lights were off.
I tried to open the front door, but it was locked, and because Kevin rushed me to leave, I’d forgotten my house keys inside. My finger hovered over the doorbell.
So this was how my first date — my first real date — ended. With me, shivering and sad, standing in my doorway, begging to be let in.
This wasn’t how dates were supposed to end. I hadn’t practiced this.
Someone was home, and they’d answer the front door if I rang the doorbell. Would it be worse to bawl in front of Tyler or Mom? Tyler would probably threaten to beat up Kevin — jokingly — but that wasn’t what I wanted. And Mom would tell me some stupid stat about how ninety percent of dates end like this. I didn’t want either of them.
I wanted… Mason.
I wanted Mason more than anything in the world right now.
But that wasn’t possible, so I wanted the next best thing: to be alone.
I went to the backyard, and in the rain, with my clothes soaked and clinging to me, I climbed into the treehouse. It was dark inside, almost pitch black.
Shivering, I stripped out of my dress and jacket and put them in a wet pile on the table.
Something crinkled.
I dug under the pile of clothes and found a bag sitting on the table. What was this? It was too dark to see, so I reached inside the bag and felt around.
My hand landed on something soft and fluffy.
I pulled it out.
It was a stuffed unicorn — practically a mirror image of Sparkles. It smelled like clean laundry and coconut sunscreen. Like Mason.
“Where did you come from?” My words trembled as they spilled from my lips. My eyes stung, and I suddenly felt very, very tired. Was I going to cry, or was I going to sleep? Or, more likely, was I going to cry myself to sleep with the mysterious unicorn?
I fought back tears as I climbed into one of the sleeping bags. Mason’s, not mine. It still smelled like him, and when I wrapped myself up inside, it felt like I was getting the ghost of a hug from the boy I’d fallen for. As the tears threatened, I squeezed the stuffed unicorn tightly.
A recording of Mason’s voice filled the treehouse. “What? How long does it record? Only fifteen seconds? Wait it started — oh no — Zoo! I picked this little guy up for you as a congrats for getting your first date. And a thank you for everything, I—”
The recording cut off.
The tears came.
As I lay in the darkness of the treehouse, the rain pounding against the roof, I squeezed the unicorn so many times that the battery wore out.
On the saddest night, in the October cold, it was a fifteen second snippet of Mason’s voice that kept me warm.
45
Mason
The next day was the Homecoming Dance, and High Street was bright and vibrant. Banners were strung between light posts, shop windows were painted in royal blue and gold, and there were bits of confetti on the asphalt from the morning’s Homecoming parade. The rest of the football team and I all took part in the parade, walking down the center of the street and waving at everyone who came to support us.
Normally, the Homecoming parade — especially after a big win — was one of the highlights of the season. But today I wanted to skip it. I wanted to stay home, sleep, and try not to think about Zoe’s date with Kevin.
After the parade, I took off my jersey, threw on a baseball cap and sunglasses, and wandered along High Street. I didn’t feel like going home. I grabbed a hot dog from a cart that was set up along the parade route and ate while I walked. Part of me was dying to know how Zoe’s date went, but I was determined not to text her. I didn’t want to interfere.
I wandered the street, my head in a fog, and eventually arrived at the dance studio where I learned to two-step. Memories flooded me. Zoe, in her cowboy hat, her hand on my shoulder, her eyes sparkling as she nimbly moved across the dance floor. I remembered laughing as she left, tipping her cowboy hat to
a group of skaters as she moseyed down the street.
When I entered the dance studio, it was like walking back through time. The same seniors were two-stepping in a circle, the same country twang resounding through the space.
I tapped my feet to the rhythm and smiled. This was stupid. Why couldn’t I tell Zoe how I felt? I pulled out my phone to text her, but before I could, Verity was on her way over.
“Looks like we caught a live one,” she said, smiling. “You’re back.”
“I’m back.”
“How about we have a dance?”
I shoved my phone back in my pocket. “Okay, but I have to warn you — there’s a good chance I’ll step on your toes.”
“As long as you don’t break my hip.”
“I promise nothing.”
Verity laughed.
We danced. I was extra careful to make sure I didn’t step on her toes. I raised my arm, and she spun beneath.
“Zoe did a good job,” Verity said. “You’ve spun me, you haven’t stepped on my toes, and you haven’t looked at your feet once. Not too shabby for someone who only started dancing a few weeks ago.”
“I was lucky to have a great teacher,” I said. That was true — Zoe was the best.
Verity smiled warmly. “I’m so happy that you two found each other.”
“Oh, actually—”
Verity ignored my interruption. “You are quite a good match. A dance can only be as good as the chemistry between the partners. And for these old eyes, you two have chemistry that’s once-in-a-lifetime. And I would know — I’ve had a long lifetime.”
I spun Verity again and swallowed. Hard. It felt like if I tried to correct her, she would bang me on the head and give me a stern talking to.
“If you don’t mind me asking, dear, how did you invite her to the Homecoming Dance?”
