Buried in the Stars

by Gretchen Tubbs

  “Homecoming is soon,” he continues. “There’s this girl I want to ask, but I’m not sure what she’ll say.” He rolls from his back to his side and props his head in his hand. I don’t want to move, so I stay on my back. I can’t even be sure that I’m breathing. “See, we’re just friends, and I don’t know if she wants more. I definitely want more, but I don’t want to mess things up. She’s really important to me.”

  Last time I had to go through this with him it made me feel awful. This time, it’s worse. I’ve had a whole year to spend more time with him, a whole year for deeper feelings to develop. I’d rather not hear about some random girl at his school that he wants more with. Just like the first time I had to sit and listen to him talk about homecoming, my first instinct is to leave. I’d rather go home and face the uncertainty of my mother than listen to him wax poetic about a girl.

  “I just remembered something I have to do at home,” I say quickly, getting off the blanket and gathering all my school stuff. My hands are shaking, and I can feel that all too familiar burning sensation starting in my throat and behind my eyes.

  “Wait.” Sutton takes my bag from me and I yank it back.

  “I gotta go,” I tell him, not bothering to turn around. I can’t hide how I’m feeling, especially from him. I walk the few feet to the opening, but his subtle laughter stops me in my tracks.

  “Turn around, Squirt.” He’s right behind me. I sigh and turn to face him, but keep my eyes cast down. “Look at me.”

  I lift my gaze and his forehead creases when he sees my eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I was talking about you,” he quietly tells me.

  I exhale and a tear falls from each eye. The pads of his thumbs slowly wipe them away. “I guess I should have been more direct,” he tells me. His mouth lifts in one corner, just enough for a hint of his dimple to show. “Will you come with me?”

  I bob my head up and down. I have so many questions, but I don’t want to say anything. His hands on my face feel nice and I like that the smile on his face got bigger when I nodded. If I speak, I might lose those things.

  “I want to try this. Us. I’ve wanted to for a while now, but I’ve been waiting. I think it’s time we explore what’s between us. Do you want this?”

  Again, I just nod.

  “I swear I’ll do everything I can not to mess things up. You’re my best friend. I couldn’t stand it if we lost that. That’s not gonna change. We’ll still be us, but a better version.”

  A laugh bubbles up in my throat, pushing through the tightness from earlier and making it disappear.

  “That’s better,” he tells me. “I don’t want you to cry. Laughter looks much better on you, Squirt.” He inches forward and I pull in a breath, ready to experience my first kiss, but he touches his cheek to mine and kisses me just below my ear. “Let’s get that math finished.”

  ***

  “I’m waiting for you to tell me that I was right.”

  “About what?” I ask Easton as the bus bounces down the road.

  “About you and my brother. He couldn’t wipe the huge smile off his face when he came back last night. Our dinner conversation was quite interesting.”

  I want to act like I don’t know what he’s talking about, but I can’t contain my own giant smile that breaks out. Really, I don’t think it ever went away once he asked me to the dance. School went by in a blur today.

  “You were right.” I give Easton what he wants so that he’ll change the subject, but he keeps pressing for more information.

  “I tried to get more out of him, but he was pretty tight-lipped. Is this a just friends thing, or are the two of you finally going to admit your feelings and take this friendship further?”

  I lift an eyebrow. “What did he say?”

  “He told me to mind my own business, so that’s why I’m asking you.”

  I know what he said when I thought he was talking about someone else, but I’m too frightened to let myself think he really means it. We didn’t talk about it anymore yesterday. By the time I understood my math assignment enough to actually do the problems, his mom was calling him home for dinner. I went home since my mom was working.

  “And I’m telling you the same thing. Mind your own business, Easton.”

  “That’s fine, Squirt. I’ll get the scoop from Emily. You might be able to keep it from me, but there’s no way you’ll keep anything from her.”

  “Whatever,” I huff, but he’s right. She’s like a damn pit bull when she wants something. “Did you write your English paper yet?”

  “You’re not very subtle, but no, I didn’t. Maybe we can work on them when we get home.”

  We spend the rest of the bus ride and the walk to his house in silence. The peaceful quiet is broken when Emily comes barreling out of the house, arms flying, attitude pouring off of her.

  “How dare you, Scarlett Cook!” She’s marching toward us, fuming, and I contemplate running to my house, but I’ll have to face her wrath eventually. “Sutton asked you out, and you didn’t call me immediately? I thought we were friends.”

  Easton pushes past her and goes into the house, leaving me to fend for myself. “I, um, I was going to talk to you about it today. I’m sorry.”

  “I know you don’t know how things like this work, but I needed a phone call as soon as you were away from him last night. This is HUGE!”

  I’ve never seen her flail around like this.

  “It’s really not a big deal,” I tell her, even though that’s a lie.

  “Not a big deal? I’ve been waiting for this day.” She jabs her finger into my chest, punctuating her words. “Didn’t I tell you this was coming? We were watching that movie that’s like two hundred years old, and I told you that this was bound to happen. Ahhhh!” she screams.

  “Calm down.”

  “I will not calm down. We have so much to do. What are you wearing? How are you doing your hair? What’s this year’s theme? How long do we have?”

  She’s asking me question after question, and I don’t know the answers to any of them. When Sutton asked me to this dance, my thoughts were centered on us, not on all the stuff that goes along with it.

  Emily stops her rant and takes my hand in hers. “Sorry. You look seriously freaked out right now. Why don’t we go to my house and look in my closet. I have a dress that’s perfect for you.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” Even though we never speak of it, she’s well aware of my financial situation. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that I have nothing.

  “I want to. Besides, I won’t wear it again. Everyone’s seen me in it.” She tugs on my hand. “Let’s go.”

  “I told Easton we’d work on our English paper.”

  “Are you kidding me? Homecoming trumps everything, Scarlett. This dance just became top priority in your life.”

  I wait for her to laugh, but she’s dead serious. She’s on a mission as we storm into her house and head straight to her closet. She’s digging through the clothes and pulling dresses off hangers. Before I know it, the bed is covered in a pile of satin, sequins, and tulle.

  “I thought you said you had A dress? This is like twenty.”

  “I had more options than I thought. I get dragged to so many dinners with my parents it’s ridiculous.” She’s holding the dresses up to my body and flinging them away faster than I can form my own opinions of them. “Here we go,” she says, smiling. “Perfect.”

  I look down to see what my best friend deems to be the dress. It’s hard to tell what it looks like because it’s off the hanger and draped across Emily’s arm, so I take it from her and hold it against my body.

  “What do you think?”

  “It’s a nice dress.”

  “A nice dress? It’s more than a nice dress. Go slip it on, and I’ll find the perfect shoes.”

  She disappears back into the abyss of her closet and I step into the attached bathroom to get into the dress. I look in the mirror and realize she’s right… it’s no
t just a dress. If I didn’t know any better I’d think she went out and bought this just for my night with Sutton. The sequined halter top is the color of his eyes- that magical turquoise mix of blue and green that reminds me of peacock feathers. I turn slightly so I can see the back, worried that the opening shows too much skin, but I love the dress too much to care. The tulle skirt is soft to the touch, hitting just above the knee.

  “Wow,” she whispers, coming into the bathroom with a pair of shoes in her hand. “My cousin’s not going to know what hit him when he sees you in this.”

  She pulls and pinches the dress in a few spots, making the fit more flattering. “It needs to be taken in some,” she says, “but Aunt Vera is a wiz with a needle and thread. We can have her come here to do the alterations. I don’t want Sutton to see this dress before the dance.”

  “Are you sure this is alright?” I ask, praying she says yes. For once in my life, I feel like just any other high school girl. I’m not worried about money, or my abusive mother, or if I’m going to get turned into the Office of Child Services. I’m just a girl getting ready to go on her first date.

  “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want you to have it. Keep it on. I’ll go call my aunt and have her walk over.”

  She doesn’t have to ask me again to keep the dress on. I’ve never put on something so nice. Well, not since my father’s funeral. This is the first time since before that day that I’ve felt stirrings in my belly that don’t have an undercurrent of worry or fear. I wrap my arms around my waist and smile, trying to imagine what will be in store for me and Sutton the night of the dance.

  ***

  “You wanna tell me why I’m in the woods and you’re nowhere to be found?”

  I can feel the corners of my mouth curling up as I hear his voice coming through the phone. “I have a lot to do to get ready, Sutton. All you have to do is throw on a suit.” Emily rolls her eyes and makes a gagging noise, even though I know that’s not how she feels.

  “I wanted to see you after school.”

  Tiny butterflies take flight in my belly. “You’ll get to see me all night.”

  “I’ve never been more excited in my life.”

  The butterflies beat wildly against my stomach, and I can feel my heart pounding against my ribcage. “Me neither. What time should I be ready?”

  “Six is fine. That’ll give us plenty of time to take pictures and get to dinner.”

  I look over to Emily, who’s got out more make-up than a department store. “Emily should be done working her magic by then. I’ll meet you at your house.”

  “No you’re not, Squirt. This is a date. I’m picking you up.”

  “Pick me up here,” comes rushing out. I don’t want him to come to my house, and I have no plans on going there anyway.

  “I can do that.”

  “Six?” I ask, just to make sure.

  “Six,” he confirms. “See you then, Scarlett.”

  I hang up and let Emily start on my face. She won’t let me look at the mirror while she works on me, which makes me nervous, but she assures me that she’s not going crazy. I don’t wear make-up on a daily basis, so I don’t want to look like a clown.

  When she puts the last bit of product back in the drawer of her vanity I attempt to turn around and look, but she won’t let me. “Let me do your hair, then you can see.”

  I sit still for another half hour while she curls my hair with the flat iron, creating loose waves. It’s right above my shoulders and has plenty of natural body. Sutton always tells me it looks like I’ve been at the beach, between my blonde waves and my smattering of freckles.

  “Now can I look?” I’m growing impatient.

  “After you get dressed. I want you to see the whole package.” She hands me the dress and I slip out of my clothes, mindful of my hair, and shimmy into the beautiful sequined and tulle creation. “Now,” she says, taking my shoulders and turning me to face the full length mirror on the side of her closet.

  When I see the reflection staring back at me I press a hand to my throat and gasp. I barely recognize myself. Emily did an amazing job with my hair and make-up, and the dress is flawless.

  “I know,” she whispers over my shoulder. “I can’t wait to see Sutton’s reaction.” She rests her chin on me and gives my arms a squeeze. “Now, get your shoes on. He’ll be here any minute.”

  I dig around in my bag until I realize that I forgot to put them in there. I left the dress at Emily’s house after Mrs. Vera altered it, but I took the shoes home to practice walking in them. I’ve never worn heels before and I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself.

  “I don’t have them.” My shoulders fall when I realize that I’ll have to go back home and get them.

  “I have more. Let’s see what else you can wear,” Emily tells me. She roots around in her closet and comes back out a few seconds later with a pair of strappy black heels.

  I put them on and walk around her bedroom for a few seconds, but they are too big. My foot is slipping around and I’m already so unsteady on my feet I’m scared I’ll fall.

  “These aren’t going to work,” I tell her. “I’ll just run home and get the other ones.”

  “Hurry,” she tells me at the front door. “It’s almost six.”

  I take off for my house, barefoot, and stop in the yard when I see my mom’s car in the driveway. Before I can even get close to the door I can hear music blaring from inside. This isn’t going to be good. She has no idea that I’m going to homecoming tonight and I don’t know if her finding out right before it happens is good or bad.

  I slowly open the front door and stand in the foyer for a minute. The air is thick with cigarette smoke and the smell of pot. This is a new addition to Mom’s regimen. Or, she’s always done it and she doesn’t bother hiding it from me anymore. When I peer around the corner I don’t see her, so I tiptoe through the living room and down the short hallway to my room. The shoes are in the corner of my bedroom, right where I left them last night. I loop the heel strap of both shoes around my index finger and start the walk back out the house when she comes out of the hall bathroom, a cigarette in hand.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going looking like that?” I consider running for the door and leaving, but I stop and turn around.

  “Look at you, painted up like a goddamn whore.” She comes closer, the nasty smoke curling around me. I back up and she drops the cigarette on the floor, slamming her fist in the wall on the side of my head. “Answer me,” she screams.

  “Homecoming.” My voice is meek. I don’t want this situation to escalate.

  “Where did you get this?” She’s fondling the delicate skirt of the dress. Her dirty hands touching the soft tulle makes my stomach churn. I close my eyes and pray she doesn’t do anything to ruin it.

  “Emily.”

  “Who the fuck is taking you to a dance?” She’s right in my face, the stench of liquor and weed washing over me.

  “Sutton Winters.”

  She laughs and grabs my face. Her fingernails are digging into my skin. “The doctor’s kid?” She squeezes my cheeks harder and I gasp, the shoes falling from my fingers. “That’s fucking comical. What’s a rich boy like that doin’ slummin’ with the likes of you? Why would he want a poor little white trash bitch on his arm?”

  “Stop it,” I whisper, and I regret it immediately. Her hand lets go momentarily, but only to rear back and strike me. My face whips to the side and the sting sets in right away. She takes my face in her hand again and I can taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. My tongue darts out and I hiss. The corner of my mouth is split.

  “You listen to me, you little whore. No one, and I mean no one, will ever want you. You’re a good for nothin’ piece of shit. Does he know you killed your father?”

  My attempts of holding in the tears are shattered at that point. “Yes,” I cry out.

  “He knows you killed your daddy and ruined my life?” she asks again, just to drive the po
int home.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  “Good,” she says, slamming my head against the wall. “As long as he knows what he’s getting himself into.” My mother takes a step back and pulls a bent cigarette from her pocket. She lights it and blows a heavy cloud of smoke in my face. “Have fun at your dance, Scarlett.”

  I watch her retreat to the back of the house. My breathing is erratic, and if I don’t get it under control I’ll have a panic attack. I slide down the wall and hit the floor with a thump. The tulle of my dress is crumpled around me so I smooth it out until I realize how utterly ridiculous this is… my face is most likely a bruised and bloody mess and I’m worried about my dress?

  An inappropriate laugh escapes and I slap my hand over my mouth so I don’t alert my mother to the fact that I’m still here. The gesture burns my lip. When I pull my hand away I can see the blood from the blow she dealt.

  My eyes wander to the pair of discarded heels on the floor. If I would have just remembered to pack them, none of this would have happened. I should have worn the black ones that were slightly too big instead of risking coming back here. It must be after six o’clock by now. Emily and Sutton are probably both wondering why I haven’t returned yet.

  I grab the shoes and practically crawl to the front door. The smart thing to do would be to go back to Emily’s house, but I’m ashamed of what just happened. It’s stupid of me to think they won’t come looking for me, but I need some time alone. Obviously the night is ruined, and Sutton will demand to know why.

  The desire to retreat to the woods is strong, but that’s the first place my friends will look when they realize that I’m not coming. I take off in the other direction and walk towards the back of the neighborhood. I can only imagine what I look like, beaten and battered, decked out in a beautiful dress and shoes, strolling the streets at dusk. The tears never stop falling as my mother’s words play on a continuous loop in my head. No matter how many times I tell myself it’s the booze talking, I can’t help but be hurt by her painful accusations.