The Last Dance

by Kiki Hamilton

  “What?’ she said softly. She got a look just like my mom does when she’s going to get all emotional. Just like that, the nervous bubble was gone. That expression on her face was worth every hour of practice I’d put into this song.

  I placed my hands on the keys and exhaled. My fingers found the first familiar notes and from there it just got easier. I only fumbled one little part but the rest of it went pretty damn good. I played the last arpeggiated chord and glanced over at her.

  Her eyes were all watery like she might cry. “Oh my God, Q, that was wonderful. I can’t believe how well you played! Honestly, you’re amazing.” Suddenly she had her arms around my neck and her voice was soft in my ear. I could feel her wet cheek against mine. “Thank you. I couldn’t have asked for a more precious gift.”

  I didn’t think—I just reacted. I slid my arms around her back and pulled her close, burying my face in her soft hair. She fit just right against my chest. For one freaky moment I thought I might cry. I took a deep breath of plumeria. I’d done it.

  For the first time since my accident I was proud of something I’d accomplished. Something besides regaining what I’d had and lost. I’d done something new. Score one for the TBI boy. Just then Brandon Chang called her name from the orchestra chamber room.

  “Ivy, Ivy—did you hear?”

  She jerked out of my arms as Brandon came rushing through the door. I silently groaned and clenched my fist, wishing I could pop the little orchestra geek in the nose. Clearly, we needed to start shutting the door to this room.

  “We’ve been accepted! We’re going to Paris over spring break!”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Ivy

  Brandon slid to a stop as he spotted me and Q, even though I’d hurriedly slid back into my seat.

  “Oh,” he said. It was like there was a tickertape running across his forehead as he put two and two together. “Uh. Sorry.” Brandon’s face went blank and he pushed his black frame glasses up his nose. Then his excitement bubbled over again. “But did you know?”

  I nodded. “Mr. Flynn told me when I got to fifth period.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Q’s head swing toward me. He had the strangest expression on his face.

  Suddenly he pushed the piano bench back with a terrible screech of the wooden legs against the linoleum tile floor and stood up. “Sounds like you guys have some exciting plans.” He grabbed his backpack and swung it over his shoulder, his muscles bulging through his sleeve. “I’ll let you get to it. I’ve gotta check in with Coach Branson about something anyway.”

  For a second I was so surprised I didn’t say anything. “But Q, wait—”

  “See you later.” He headed for the door without a backward glance.

  Brandon gave me a silent, wide-eyed look as he stiffly raised his hand toward Q. “Kbye.” He kind of looked frightened. Which was a little bit funny in a not-funny-at-all situation.

  I jumped out of my chair and ran to Q’s side, grabbing his arm. “Do you have to go now?” He had a look I’d never seen on his face before. Angry and disgusted and—wounded.

  “Yeah, Ivy. I do.” Then he jerked the door open and walked through, not giving me any room to follow him.

  Q DIDN’T COME to study hall sixth period. Of course, Mira wasn’t there either. I waited twenty minutes before I packed my stuff up and walked home. I wanted to text Q. I wanted to call him. But one part of my head kept whispering: This is the break you need to tell him.

  I thought about the beautiful song he’d played for me. Ivy’s Song. It made me smile just thinking about it. I’d never been given anything more precious and heartfelt. But his gift also made me want to cry at the same time, making my decision that much more painful.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Kellen

  I couldn’t get out of school fast enough. Thank God I had a doctor appointment for an excuse, though I would’ve left anyway. I couldn’t go sit with Ivy in sixth period knowing that she and Brandon were going to Paris together. An orchestra trip together was one thing, but Paris? Seriously?

  I’d been so excited to see Ivy, to play her song—to show her how much I’d improved— I’d forgotten the little detail that she was still going out with Brandon. But dammit, if she liked Brandon so much, why did she hug me and look at me like that?

  I kicked an empty soda can that was lying near the garbage can. The tinny clang echoed off the school’s wall as I strode out to the back parking lot. Shit! Why did this have to be so difficult all the time? Why did I have to care?

  EVEN THOUGH I drove to my doctor appointment, my mom insisted on coming too. Julie had left on New Year’s Day and gone back to college. We never did talk about ‘the fight’ again, but it hung in the air around us like the dog’s fart. You couldn’t see it, but everybody knew it was there.

  My mom sat next to me thumbing through a magazine as I was texting a couple of the guys while we waited for the doctor. The endless piano practice had definitely improved my right hand. My fingers actually responded like normal to my brain now, which made me grateful every time I used them.

  “Ron is studying to be an occupational therapist,” she said out of the blue.

  I didn’t stop texting. So. We were going to talk about it. “That’s nice.” I clicked send and shoved my phone into my pocket. “Is that what makes him such a know-it-all?”

  “Kellen.” That disapproving tone. “I think he spoke out of true concern for you, not to be a know-it-all.” My mother closed the magazine. She was really pretty cool. She rarely freaked out about anything. “I think we should ask the doctor what she thinks about you playing football again.”

  DOC MURDOCH WENT through all the standard tests and questions before she took my right hand and tested my fingers. When she set my hand down and looked me square in the eye over her glasses, my heart gave an extra beat. Something was coming.

  “You are truly amazing, Kellen. It’s practically a medical miracle that you could recover like you have. Especially in that amount of time.” She put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s a testament to your hard work and the power of believing in yourself.”

  “Thanks, Doc.” I wondered what she would think if she knew how many times I hadn’t believed in myself. I shrugged. “I’m feelin’ pretty good again.”

  “How’s your school work going? Do you still need a tutor?” She peered at me with a look that said she already knew the answer.

  The truth was I didn’t need a tutor. But I wanted my tutor. In more ways than one. “Nah, probably not. I’m caught up in everything now.”

  She nodded and turned away. “I’d say that you have officially recovered, Kellen. I don’t need to see you again unless you feel like you’re having trouble with something.” She scratched some notes into my thick file.

  “Doctor Murdoch, we do have one question.” My mom sat in the blue plastic chair on the other side of the small room, her legs crossed and hands resting in her lap. She looked perfectly relaxed as if this question didn’t hold the answer to my entire future—my entire life.

  “What’s that, Jane?” The doctor turned and peered over her glasses at my mom.

  “What do you think about Kellen playing football again?” The words hung in the air. My heart was beating like the drum roll the band played at kickoff.

  The doctor glanced over at me as she thought about the question. “From a medical perspective, Kellen’s brain and body have had time to heal and are responding normally again. Technically he’s cleared to play football.”

  My heart fluttered in my chest like it had grown wings.

  “However—” the doc’s tone held a note that made my heart plunge into my shoes— “it’s my personal and professional opinion that he would be putting himself at a catastrophic risk to play sports where he might continue to absorb high-level impact to the brain.”

  She tapped her finger on my file and totally reminded me of Coach Branson. “There’s new research from Purdue University that suggests all football players, even t
hose who haven’t suffered a concussion or serious injury like Kellen, are receiving sub-concussive blows to the head that are resulting in long-lasting brain impairment. These repeated impacts are causing significant systematic changes in their brain functioning.”

  Dr. Murdoch crossed her arms. “New studies are showing increased levels of tau proteins in the brain. This occurs when the brain is shaken too hard and the nerve fibers are torn, releasing the tau. The end result is a condition called chronic traumatic encephalopathy, or CTE. There is a conclusive link between tau and brain damage.”

  She closed her file with a snap and cradled it in one arm. “We’re just now beginning to measure and track the damage that the brain and neural system incurs from repeated impact. The long-term effects remain to be seen, though dementia and mental illness seem likely.”

  Dr. Murdoch slid her glasses down even further so she could see straight into my eyes. The final stab to my heart—I could see it coming. “I’ve known you since you were an infant, Kellen. I’ve watched you grow into a wonderful, kind and responsible young man, so I say this not only as a doctor, but as someone who cares about you.”

  For one heartbeat, the room was absolutely silent. Then came the kill shot. “If you were my son, I’d strongly advise you against ever playing football again. It’d be no different than playing Russian roulette with your brain.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Ivy

  I went in and spoke to Mr. Decker before school the next day. Before I changed my mind.

  “Yes, Miss Ly?” The principal sat behind his big desk, stacks of paper surrounding him, looking pre-occupied. “How can I help you?”

  “I think I have to withdraw from tutoring Kellen Peterson.” I tried to sound professional. “He seems to be doing much better and I’m afraid that I won’t be able to keep up with my own studies and music over the next few months if I keep doing both.”

  “Hmmmm,” Mr. Decker said. “Have you discussed this with Kellen?”

  I nodded. “Kind of.” Liar! my head shouted at me.

  “You sound a bit indecisive, but if Kellen feels that he’s recovered enough to resume his regular schedule then it’s fine with me.” He sat forward and wrote a note on a piece of paper. “I’ll let his parents know.”

  My stomach sank into my shoes. I hadn’t thought about Kellen’s parents. Would they be upset?

  Mr. Decker peered at me across the desk. “Thank you for all your hard work, Ivy. You’ve been very gracious with your time and I know it was a tough load for you to carry. But Kellen is an exceptional young man and I wanted to make sure he got back on his feet. I’ll be writing you a letter of recommendation and making the appropriate notations on your transcript.”

  I stood up, suddenly sick to my stomach. I’d done it. “Thank you Mr. Decker.”

  MY FEET DRAGGED all the way to first period. Now I had to tell Q. My mother’s no-nonsense voice echoed in my head. “You must face life’s difficulties with your head held high, Ivy, and forge ahead.” I thought about what my mother and father had overcome to live in America. To give me and Tuan a better life. I should be counting my blessings instead of being such a cry-baby. I’d be out of high school in less than six months. Time to grow up.

  Q WAS ALREADY in class, facing the front of the room when I got there. No part of that was normal. At least the seat next to him was vacant. I marched up and whispered in his ear before I lost my nerve. “I need to talk to you after class.” He barely looked at me.

  “Okay.” He didn’t say whatever but it was implied as clearly as if he’d shouted it at me. I sat down and felt like I was shrinking, like Alice in Wonderland. What had I done to make everyone I cared about hate me?

  AS SOON AS we were out of the classroom I blurted it out. “I’mnotgoingtobeabletotutoryouanymore.” I said the words so fast even I couldn’t understand myself. My hands were shaking.

  He frowned at me. “What?”

  “I’m not going to be able to tutor you anymore.” I couldn’t look at him. “It’s too much with all my other studies plus—” I finally got up the nerve to glance at his face— “you don’t need me now.”

  Q stopped in the middle of the hall and turned to face me. Kids streamed around us like fish swimming upstream in a river of bodies. One hand held his backpack strap over his shoulder and the other was shoved into his pocket. He was like some beautiful modern-day version of the David—except with clothes. But his presence was every bit as powerful. I clutched my books to my chest, feeling small and insignificant.

  His lips pressed together in a bitter line and for a fleeting moment I thought he was trying not to cry. Then his eyes narrowed and he sneered at me.

  “Ivy, you don’t have any idea what I need.”

  He seemed so far away at that moment—so untouchable—it was like we were back at the start of school again and I’d only seen him from afar through Mira’s obsessed eyes. I didn’t know him at all. I don’t know why I ever thought he might care about somebody like me.

  His eyes were cold as he glared at me. “At least you could’ve been honest about the real reason. But thanks for your help.” Then he turned and walked away.

  Now I knew what it meant when somebody says a part of them died. A part of my heart died right in that second.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Kellen

  I went straight to the counselor’s office and changed my schedule. There was no way I was going to practice piano with Ivy or sit in study hall and pretend everything was okay.

  It wasn’t.

  Nothing was okay.

  Not football. Not school. Not my brain. Not my heart. Not my life.

  I headed out to the parking lot to ditch school. Everything that I wanted was out of reach. I’d never felt so lost in my life.

  “Kellen!”

  I ignored the voice and kept walking.

  “Wait up.” I could hear the clatter of boots behind me as Laurel ran to catch up. “Hi,” she said breathlessly as she pulled up alongside me. Her blond hair was blown back and her chest was heaving from her little run, making it hard to look away. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m leaving.” I forced my eyes away and kept walking.

  “For the day?”

  “Yep.”

  She tugged on my arm. “Where are you going?”

  I stopped and turned to look at her. “I don’t know. Just out of here.”

  She still sounded breathless but her eyes were shining. “Can I come?”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Ivy

  Q must have left school, because he wasn’t in any of his classes the rest of the day and he didn’t show up for piano.

  Those terrible words he’d sneered at me echoed in my head: at least you could’ve been honest about the real reason. What did he think the real reason was? I didn’t know for sure, but I had a sick feeling he thought it was because of Brandon. I’d never told him that we’d broken up.

  Q had left his sheet music sitting on the piano when he’d walked out the day before. I’d tucked the pages into my bag, intending to give them to him today. Instead, I pulled the music out and sat down at the piano. I could see where he’d lined through the title and written Ivy’s Song in block handwriting. A pang went through me.

  I played the piece slowly, savoring the bittersweet melody that seemed to pierce my heart. Every note of the song was like a secret message from Q. When it was over I closed my eyes and played other songs from memory, sorting out my feelings through the black and white keys.

  When I’d made up my mind in New York to stop tutoring Q—to fix the problem between me and Mira at any cost—I never dreamed it would be this painful. I’d been so consumed about not upsetting Mira that I’d forgotten to consider that Q might be in need, too. He’d not only lost significant motor skills, but he’d lost the ability to play football, the game he loved and had planned his future around. And he’d lost his girlfriend. All in the same moment.

  At a time when he p
robably needed somebody the most—I’d walked away.

  My heart broke and shattered into a thousand pieces, but I knew there was no other way.

  WE WERE EATING dinner when my phone buzzed in my pocket indicating an incoming text. Then it buzzed again. My mother didn’t allow cell phone use at the table. I swear, curiosity will be the death of me one day. I slowly pulled my phone out of my back pocket. No fast moves around my mother. I even took a bite of food as a diversionary tactic as I juggled the phone around to my lap. I dropped my eyes to see who was texting me.

  “Ivy, put your phone away. You know the rules.” I don’t think my mom even looked at me. That woman could keep me under surveillance from the corners of her eyes.

  “I just want to see who it is.” I risked it and took a quick peek. Dang! The screen just read TEXT MESSAGES (2). That didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. I slid the bar across my phone and punched the text message button. What a rebel I’d become.

  “Ivy Thi Ly.” My mother was looking directly at me. “What is so important that you have to interrupt dinner?”

  “Binh.” My father spoke to her in Vietnamese. “Let it go.” My father didn’t stand up to my mother very often, but when he did, everyone paid attention. To my surprise, he leaned over and patted my arm. “You’re a good girl, Ivy.” Then he went back to eating.

  My mom and I looked at each other in surprise. Then my mother looked away first. I couldn’t believe it. We’d just had a seismic shift in the Ly household, but unbelievably, I was more curious about who was texting, which was a different kind of seismic shift. God, what was happening to the world?

  I glanced down to read the texts. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the first one was from Mira: Can we talk? Followed by a second message: I’ve got Twinkies.

  AFTER DINNER I replied: Sure. When?