Letting Go

by Katie George

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Sarah

  SARAH HAD HOPED, deep down, that Joel would have spent every moment at the dance near her, but this was not the case. He and Chloe zigzagged across the place as he talked to various people from church, including a few who never attended actual church—just the dances. Sarah apologized profusely to her date, so much so that Joey promised it was okay. Even he was distracted by a girl named Beth Flowers, who had gold hair and dimples. Sarah was quickly forgotten.

  As she made her way to pour herself a glass of tea, Zach and Eliana appeared, both sweaty and red from dancing to what sounded like Kids Bop. Sarah wanted to fall over and die. Inwardly, she was still reeling from Joel’s meeting Ms. Temprend, but when she asked him about the conversation, he kept mum and said nothing on their walk back.

  “What’s up?” Sarah asked, doling out a fake smile.

  Eliana shrugged. “We needed a break.”

  “I can imagine. So did I.”

  Zach tugged on his collar. “It’s not very fun dancing in these. I feel like I’m a Corvette with no air conditioning. Expensive but a juxtaposition. Who would buy a sports car with no air conditioning?”

  Sarah ignored his nervous chatter and smiled. A popular song started beating down on them from the speakers in the church gym, and Eliana and Zach rushed off to dance. Sarah analyzed them, Zach standing much shorter than her.

  The church had outdone itself. Large papier-mâché flowers in bright colors hung from the rafters above as strobe lights in purples and blues cast everyone a different tint. For a minute or so, all racism was forgotten, and even all sin in general; everyone was the same. Yet a few minutes later, as the music approached, not even lights could hide a lot of the pain in the dancers’ gaits.

  Sarah took a seat near the chaperones, who were all giddily gossiping about Mother Elsie. Sarah groaned. A few seconds after sitting, Tom Boomington appeared, loosening his tie as he approached. In the shadows, Tom was more handsome than Sarah had ever seen him. He was a bit heavyset, but the glitter in his eyes was something very illustrious and attractive. Sarah was not attracted to him, per se; but she did understand Tom was the best man in the room. But, as Helena would say, “Tom needs a wife. And you qualify.”

  “So, you have a lot of gumption to have gone with Joey Raspoli,” commented Tom.

  “It was a favor to Zach. He had the nerve to ask Eliana as long as I accepted Joey as my date.”

  Tom turned just a little so Sarah could see the hint of stubble tickling his jaw. He was always the gentleman—because he had to be—but Sarah felt something was different this time. Something bubbling up. “Well, when I heard, I was a little upset. I was planning on asking you, and a twelve-year-old stole my thunder.”

  Sarah’s throat constricted. She played this off by nodding, and then she said, “Oh, Tom. Why would you ask me of all people?” She knew this was the stupidest question she’d ever asked in her entire life. She wanted to run to the janitorial closet and barf all over the bleach. Sarah had always been somewhat nervous around guys in general, but this was different, because she was afraid of rejecting someone else. The signs were clear: Tom was showing interest. If Helena knew, she’d be all over ordering the perfect shade of tea rose for the wedding ceremony.

  “Why would I ask you?” A sheen of sweat plastered Tom’s face. Sarah knew this was uncomfortable for him too. This calmed Sarah a bit. “Come on, Sarah. You know why I’d ask you.”

  They were silent for a moment before Sarah turned toward him. “Do you see Joey out there, dancing with Beth?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The good thing about this event is that Joey’s not a churchgoer, but now he’s dancing in a church.”

  “It was close to impossible permitting this dance in the first place. We Christians don’t dance, obviously.”

  Sarah smiled. She looked out across the floor, her eyes scanning for the one person with whom she really wanted to dance. She ignored a pang of guilt when she noticed Joel talking to a high school senior girl, Jill Platt. She stood up and extended her hand toward Tom. “Want to dance?”

  Tom looked at her as if she was a pregnant alien who’d told him he was the father. “Seriously?”

  “Of course, Tom. We’re going to at least dance once.”

  Tom reached out to curl his hand around hers, and then they were under a rented disco ball, swaying together as an oldies hit streamed over the speakers. When a slow song came, Tom rested his hands on her hips as she curled hers around his neck. He stared at her in longing, and eventually, unable to stand looking into his handsome eyes, she placed her cheek on his shoulder. Tom Boomington was a kind, loving soul. He would make the perfect man for another woman, but for Sarah, it was not possible. However, she counted him as a dear friend, and their dancing would elicit more gossip from the chaperones, and therefore the churchgoers, too. Awkwardly, Tom might interpret this dancing as Sarah showing interest. However, she had a month until she returned to California, where her heartbeat thumped.

  For a moment, her mind drifted to the rocky beaches of Malibu, and then she was thinking of her best friends there. She imagined being with them again, the people who had been her rock during all the homesickness and bouts of puzzlement as to why she’d abandoned her family for a world where no one knew her.

  Nothing else mattered.

  “You’re tired, aren’t you?” Tom whispered into her ears.

  She looked up at him and straightened her posture. “Just thinking.”

  “What about?”

  “My life out there.”

  Tom knew what she was referring to, and he nodded. “Do you miss that life?”

  “Yes. But when I’m there, I think of here, and when I’m here, I think of there.”

  “You sound like you need prayer.”

  “I’m trying to be content, but I think in the end, I’ll just adapt to wherever I am.”

  Tom nodded, his gold hair flickering purple in the flashing lights. The music shifted yet again, this time to a salsa song, but Tom and Sarah continued their sway, back and forth, back and forth. “You’re going to adapt, Sarah. Maybe the question remains: Why did you leave Breezewater in the first place?”

  Someone tapped her, and Tom’s eyes widened. A lancet of new anxiety rushed through Sarah’s veins. She expected to see Joey, but instead, Zach stood. “Hey, sis, and hey, Tom! I need your help for a moment.”

  Sarah broke away from Tom, apologizing, to which he nodded casually. He walked back to the seats to sit among the throng of gossipers. She followed her brother across the gym to a black hallway, where it was as silent as a ghost.

  Zach then motioned back to the dancefloor. “You looked pretty romantic with Tom there. I thought I’d save you.”

  “Tom’s a great guy…”

  “But you’re not into him. That’s why I saved you.”

  Sarah shrugged. “Okay, thanks, then. Where’s Eliana?”

  “She’s dancing with some of her friends, and Joey is off with Beth in a closet somewhere.”

  “Zach!”

  “I’m kidding. They’re somewhere, I just don’t know where.”

  “Want to dance?”

  “Not really. It would ruin my reputation. The whole, ‘Boy dances with his adult sister.’”

  “I think I’m pretty cool,” Sarah said, winking.

  “Oh, trust me, I know you think you’re pretty cool. Come on, you have to know Joel Sealet was staring at you the entire time you danced with Tom. He was pretty angry, too. He was spinning Chloe around like she was a rag doll, but she was showing off her dance skills anyhow.”

  “Joel?”

  “Please stop lying to me about him. It’s so obvious. You two did run off together before the dance. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Plus, I know your password.”

  “Zach!”

  “And there is no doubt you’ve got some feelings for that guy. I don’t know how, or why… I mean, he is good looking, don’t get me wrong. He
’s just…”

  “Zach, I swear…”

  Zach opened the door back to the dancefloor, pulling his sister behind him. “Your secret is safe with me. Now, go and dance with him. That’s the real reason why I pulled you away from loverboy Tom.”

  “Zachary!”

  Sarah cupped her face in her hands, wondering how long this dance would go on for. She wanted to return home, slip into some pajamas, and fall asleep underneath the stars. No, scratch that; she wanted to fall asleep in perfect air conditioning.

  Sarah shifted as Zach left her. She scanned the crowds, looking for Joel, knowing he would definitely stand out in a crowd. She spotted Alex McFarland twirling around a girl, and she wondered why he’d showed up. He’d probably been paid.

  She jumped when Joel whispered in her ear, “Dance with me?”

  Sarah looked back and pointed her finger at him. “Couldn’t you have just asked me like a normal human being instead of a church ghost?”

  “Sorry. I will learn.”

  “You want to dance?”

  “Do you?”

  “Well, I guess.”

  “Come on, that’s not a good enough answer.”

  “Well, I’m just surprised you actually are talking to me.”

  “Sarah, you’re the one who wants to keep our ‘friendship’ private, locked away like Pandora’s box.”

  She had the weirdest urge to lean up and press his lips to hers. Instead, she shrugged and defiantly crossed her arms. Then she took his hand in hers and led him to the floor, where they took a few seconds to grow oriented with each other. They both stood feet above most of the other kids, but finally, they ignored their hesitance and drew in closer together.

  As if destiny intervened, a melancholy, slow-paced song dawned through the speakers. Sarah casually glanced over her shoulder to see Zach, Joey, Eliana, and Beth at the helm of the music playlist. Zach nodded toward her, and Sarah rolled her eyes.

  As the music grew in intensity and spirit, Sarah found herself too shy to look into Joel’s eyes.

  “So, is it possible your brother is intervening in our relationship?” Joel asked quietly.

  “You saw him?”

  “He also was the one who convinced me to ask you to dance. If I’m being honest, I was a little too scared to ask you.”

  “Joel! Aren’t we past that by now?”

  “You were dancing with a pastor! What was I supposed to say?”

  “I don’t know. Fight for me, I guess. Just kidding—don’t fight the Lord!”

  “Why are we always so darn breathless when we’re talking to each other? Is the only thing we use exclamation points? Like, what are we!” His voice cracked as he emphasized his point, and Sarah burst out laughing. The slow song was annoying her now, just because it did not represent her and Joel in the slightest.

  “If I had a million dollars last year, do you think I’d have bet we would be together like this? I can guarantee you that would be no.”

  Joel grinned. “I would have said yes.”

  “Don’t lie!”

  “Life has been hitting me with such force right now that I really, really have just got to roll along, okay? I’m just going with whatever comes my way. I’m done planning for anything.”

  Sarah cocked her head, tilting it to the side as the music faded in and out again. She didn’t notice all the eyes on them like they were the center of the universe. If everyone else happened to be planets in orbit, Joel and Sarah were the sun. “I wish I could live by that philosophy, but quite frankly, it’s impossible.”

  “Thank you for disagreeing with me on everything. I really like that about you, Sarah Towson.” He leaned over her shoulder just the slightest so she could smell the fumes.

  She pulled away, looking into the lightheartedness of his brown eyes, a pool of unforgettable instability. They continued to sway, and he turned her in a little circle. “Joel, are you high?”

  “What do you mean? Sarah, that’s such a peculiar question.”

  “Joel, please be honest with me.”

  “Of course I’m high. When am I not?”

  Sarah drifted away from him, pained. She closed her eyes, a sudden migraine hitting her. “Joel, you can’t drive Chloe home. Give me your keys. I’ll drive you home.”

  “Sarah, why are you breaking away from me? Come back.” His words were so light, so tempting.

  Sarah shook her head. “I… I can’t. Not when you’re not yourself.”

  “I’m definitely still me. I can promise you that.”

  Sarah returned to him, so that she could have a better glimpse into his thoughts. “Even if you’re still you, am I still me? When you’re in that haze?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Oh my… Oh, Joel.” She clutched him hard, digging her fingers into his shoulder blades. He’d imagined her saying those words a few times, and he lightly held onto her hips. He’d only been high for a few minutes. The stress had clamped his mind like it was a wine glass, so that it was only a few moments from shattering. His friend Eric had secured him a blunt, and Eric’s younger sister, a senior in high school named Jill, had handed it to him. Getting high was the easy part; the aftermath was much more dangerous.

  Joel clutched Sarah into his arms, smelling her intoxicating perfume. He wondered if ichor flowed through her veins, because she was the gold in his dreams. She was the mountain to his rock climber. He loved her, God, he loved her. He wanted to hold her forever, and to tell her everything he’d never told anyone else. He didn’t know why she had come to him. What had been so illustrious about Sarah Towson, to make him fall for her. He hadn’t even kissed her yet. He reached his lips down to hers, just for fun, just to see if it was as good as he knew it would be.

  Unfortunately, Sarah had pulled away the moment before, and she was running away from him, so that his hands were now curled around air. He whipped around to see Helena Towson, Sarah’s pretty mother, who stood with her hands on her hips like she was a sheriff. Helena Towson was red in the face, and anybody in the world could recognize the vitriol rushing across her mien. Joel was scared straight.

  When Sarah rushed to her mother, all kinds of responses brushed her lips. She could lie about Joel. She could pretend he’d just asked her for one dance. She could tell the truth. Instead, even-keeled Helena’s voice approached like a sonic blast. “Let’s go. Now. We can drop Joey off at his house.”

  “It’s not close to over,” Sarah protested.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Mom. I’m allowed to dance with him. He’s not bad…”

  “Sarah, this is not open for discussion. You’ve openly disobeyed, that much is obvious. We’re leaving. Go get your brother, and if you head in that boy’s direction, I swear I will embarrass you for the rest of your life.”

  Sarah shrugged. “You know what, no matter how hard I try, I’m never going to live up to your expectations. Literally, you ask me to stay away from one guy. Don’t you think that’s just going to rev up my interest to see him? Here’s the truth. Joel Sealet is not the perfect guy, but neither am I the perfect girl. So listen, Mom, I’m nineteen-years-old. I’m still a kid, I know. But the fact is that, yes, you pay for my college tuition. You love me more than anyone, or at least you act like it. But this is ridiculous, and if you think that I’m leaving with you right now, I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you.”

  “Sarah!”

  Sarah closed her eyes, and just for a moment, imagined she was anywhere else. California sands sliced through her veins. Then, when she opened her eyes again, she found her mother’s pleading eyes locked onto hers. Instead of the expected rage, Sarah only saw sadness. Disappointment. Even confusion.

  “Mom, I’m sorry,” Sarah whispered.

  “Why are you doing this?” Helena asked, her voice harsh. “You’ve got everything in the world.”

  “No, no, I don’t.”

  “Is this still about Olivia?”

  “Of course it’s about Olivia. You hid her from me, l
ike she never existed.”

  “Sarah, if you walk away from me, it’s going to do a lot of damage.”

  Sarah nodded. The dancefloor continued to produce romance between the teenagers, but a different kind of spectacle played out nearby in the nearby shadows, across the way from the gossiping chaperones who watched with amusement. They would be spectacularly pleased if they had buckets of popcorn and Cokes. But they could settle for their view.

  Sarah breathed. “Alison hates me because Olivia died, because I was Olivia’s replacement, which explains your favoritism toward me. But the thing is, I don’t hate you. I don’t. But you’re going to hate me because I am going to leave now. I’m going to choose something incredibly immature. I’m going to choose this illusory freedom dangling at my fingertips.”

  “Sarah Margaret Towson, are you on some kind of drug?” Helena asked, tapping her heels against the gym floor.

  “The only drug I’m on is family. And like every drug, it has side effects.”

  “Honey!”

  “I can walk home, but I won’t drive home with you. I need time to think.”

  “Like hell!”

  “Mother. I’m going to walk home, and unless you want an even bigger episode right now, it will happen. Hug me now. We can act like nothing’s amiss, because your world will go strange—heaven forbid—if we stir up anymore drama.”

  “Sarah… I swear, we forgave you for what happened a few weeks ago, but I don’t know if we can forgive you for this.”

  Sarah nodded, a few teardrops landing on her cheeks. “I know. But I can’t choose you. I just can’t.”

  “It’s nearly three miles home.”

  “I will walk.”

  “You’re wearing espadrilles.”

  “I will manage.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “To clear my head. To figure out what I’m going to do. Mom, just give me this walk.”

  Helena finally nodded, and the two shared an awkward hug. As soon as they moved away from each other, a fake smile appeared on Helena’s lips, and the once-cheerful gossipers now looked with disdain. What a letdown.

  Sarah disappeared outside, the darkness intoxicating. It immediately cleared her mind, like an eraser against a chalkboard. She rushed as fast as she could in the tight dress and two-inch wedges, which was practically impossible. She felt somewhat like Cinderella, rushing away from her prince and the ball. Maybe she should kick off her shoes. She did so.

  Her bare feet smacked the ground with intensity, but occasionally, a pebble would lodge in her skin, and this did not feel good. Lightning bugs coddled her and urged her on across the dirty pavement of a pale night. The air smelled like a romantic garden.

  Sarah would have lied if she said she did not think of Joel. Every moment of the first few minutes of her flight, she thought of his curly hair, his brown eyes, the dimple in his cheeks. The way he talked, the smoothness of each note. How he had been ready to kiss her, and she’d run off to quell her mother’s anger. How he smelled like smoke. How she was probably just a miniscule dot on his radar. How much she wanted to slap him. But how much she appreciated his gentility.

  She found her way across the town, her feet aching as the minutes wore on. It was around nine o’clock at night on a Saturday, and town proper was more festive than usual. Probably most of the people were parents with nothing to do as they waited to pick up their babies at the church.

  Sarah took a few shortcuts, weaving through old 1940s homes and trees older than all civilization in Breezewater. This night felt like a melody, woven with eccentric, shrill notes. Then the song increased its pace, before clashing to its rushing crescendo. The finale approached, shattering to a resounding, triumphant end.

  Sarah lingered before she entered the gates. Tonight would offer the perfect conditions for a haunting, but even in the darkness and the fear rooted in her brain, Sarah only glimpsed an overwhelming conviction to find her.

  She had been to the cemetery countless times. A steady stream of individuals died per year, and funerals were a big social event. A lot of the cobblestone pathways had been around for centuries along with eroded tombstones. A fogginess seemed to appear, rolling in from the nearby ocean. Sarah tried not to have fear, because she felt closer to God in this moment, in this moment of necessity to know.

  There were hundreds of tombs in the cemetery, and some of them were from Civil War times. There was a division between the Confederate and Union gravestones, but Sarah had been there enough times to orient herself in the direction of the fresher section. She found her way across the dewy grass that tickled the tops of her feet, and when she made it to the edge of a copse of live oak trees, she sighed. There still remained hundreds of stones to see. What if her parents had buried their other daughter at a different cemetery? This was the only one Breezewater used, and it was run by a guy from the Baptist church.

  She decided to walk the rows until she found her. There were countless people Sarah recognized just by the name, and others she knew in her childhood. It was eerie, walking through this maze of dead bodies on a foggy night as this, but somehow it distracted her from thoughts of the tumult at her home. She had a mission, and she would complete it.

  After an hour or two of searching, row by row, Sarah came to a little marker, the headstone one of the smallest she’d seen in the entire cemetery. The smooth marble engraving read OLIVIA GRACE TOWSON. It listed her birth and death years, plus a cryptic message of, WE HOPE TO BE REUNITED WITH OUR BABY GIRL IN THE FUTURE. WE LOVE YOU.

  She noticed the stinging first. How her eyes burned as she rubbed them, the makeup rushing deep inside the skin of her eyeball. She wanted to fall to the grass and diffuse into the soil. But instead Sarah was doomed to remain in human form, weeping at her sister’s gravestone. She mourned for a person she hadn’t known, a person whose death she did not understand, a person who had been hidden from her like a dangerous secret. What could Olivia have done to anybody else? She’d been a child when she passed away.

  The fog settled over Sarah so that it chilled her. Sarah stood up, removed the pearl necklace dangling from her neck, and placed it in a makeshift cairn at the edge of the stone. No flowers rested anywhere nearby, so Sarah collected a handful of dandelions and placed them on top of the necklace.

  Not once did she notice the form of an old friend behind her, tranced by her silent cries. Manny tried not to weep, but his own trip to the cemetery had already made him emotional. He stood up and walked away, unable to handle it anymore.