Play of Light

by Debra Doxer

  “When do you get to see him again?” Colby asked me.

  I shifted in my seat. “He’s coming to visit in a few weeks.”

  “Oh wow.” Riley grinned. “That’s great. I can’t wait to meet him.”

  I fidgeted and glanced up to see Spencer eyeing me in the mirror again. This time, he didn’t look away before I did, and he hadn’t participated in this conversation at all. I wondered what he thought of my living so close to him when school started. Boston was relatively small compared to other cities, but I doubted we’d ever run into each other.

  When Spencer pulled off the main road and drove right past the beach, I was surprised. It turned out, the Beach Club wasn’t actually on the beach. It was located a few blocks away in a squat concrete building that had only a small sign above the door.

  Riley turned to me. “I know it looks like a dive, but the crowd is decent and this was the first place to hire Swallowed when they were looking for gigs last summer. Of course, now the crowd we draw is too big for this place. But I like to come here and show our gratitude. It’s the decent thing to do.”

  In front, I could hear Spencer laughing. “That’s magnanimous of you.”

  Riley scowled. “Quit showing off your vocabulary for Sarah and park the car already.”

  Shaking his head but still smiling, Spencer found a space at the end of the lot. The parking lot was nearly full despite the building’s nondescript exterior.

  Earlier, Riley mentioned that you had to be twenty-one to get in, which I definitely wasn’t. Then she told me she had a fake ID. I didn’t have one because I was still the daughter of a cop. The thought of breaking the law made me uneasy. But Riley didn’t seem to think it would be a problem, and she was right.

  The bouncer, a muscle-bound guy dressed all in black with the club name sprawled in blue letters across his convex chest, greeted Colby and Spencer like they were long-lost family, not checking anyone’s IDs and ushering us all inside.

  The noise and the darkness enveloped us as we squeezed through the crowd standing by the door. Reaching back, Riley grabbed my hand. Colby and Spencer were behind me. After some jockeying and shoving, Riley got us up to the crowded bar. She yelled out her order, and just as the bartender was about to ask for her ID, Spencer and Colby appeared. Again, they were given special treatment as the bartender reached out to shake their hands before turning to make our drinks.

  Grinning at me, Riley said, “See?”

  I smiled my response as I felt someone push against my back. Pretty sure it was Spencer being knocked into me, I felt my skin grew warm, and reached for the cold drink that had already been set down in front of me. It was brownish in color, filled with ice, and served in a tall soda glass.

  “Ri.” Colby groaned, looking at his drink. “Long Island iced teas? I hate these things. Why didn’t you get me a beer?”

  “Because these get you where you want to go faster. I’m saving you money.”

  I could see Colby wanted to laugh, but he didn’t. “Come on.” He put his arm around her. “Let’s go find a table.” Then he motioned for us to join them as he led Riley back through the crowd.

  When I began to follow her, Spencer reached for my drink. “I’ll carry that for you, Sarah Smile.”

  I stiffened and gripped the glass tighter when he tried to take it.

  He looked confused as he leaned down to catch my eye. “Sarah?”

  Having his face so close to mine got my attention, and I released the glass, letting him lift it from my hand.

  Spencer’s uneasy expression made me want to explain before we were back with Riley and Colby. “Please don’t call me that. No one does. Not anymore.”

  His eyes widened with understanding. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think . . .” He stopped, pressing his lips together, looking uncomfortable.

  “It’s okay,” I told him. Then I started moving again. I made a beeline for the table before the sound of my father’s voice calling me Sarah Smile could rise up from my memories. Thankfully, the background noise was loud enough that I could easily concentrate on the cacophony of clinking glasses, raised voices, and Imagine Dragon’s “Radioactive” being pumped out of the speakers.

  Sometimes when I was alone, I’d try to remember the sound of my father’s voice singing to me, but not here. I couldn’t let myself remember here because having emotional moments in front of people you hardly knew anymore was dangerous. And also, it made you look crazy when you were trying to project huge amounts of okayness. And I was okay. Most of the time.

  I took the seat beside Riley and felt more than saw Spencer lower himself into the free chair next to mine as he set my drink down on the table.

  Sitting there, pretending to listen to Riley, I felt Spencer’s attention on me. I wondered what he was doing here tonight. Riley had said it would be just us and Colby. Did Spencer know I was coming? Was it possible he wanted to see me? His presence made me feel self-conscious as I sipped my drink and winced at the taste. Colby was right again. This drink was awful. Long Island iced teas tasted like rotten fruit swimming in mud.

  Across from me, Riley and Colby were talking as Black Haze was announced. The milling crowd began to push forward, toward the front where we were sitting near the stage. For a moment, it felt like the room was closing in as we were surrounded by people. At the same time, my purse started vibrating. Grabbing the phone out, I saw it was Nate. It was perfect timing. It gave me the excuse I needed to momentarily escape the table and the crowd. Getting Riley’s attention and motioning to my phone, I used the universal sign for I have to take this as I stood and headed for the exit.

  Once outside, I inhaled the warm summer air, enjoying the silence.

  “Hey, you,” Nate said when I answered.

  “Hey, you too.” I smiled, needing the grounding his voice provided.

  “Tell me. How is it so far?”

  I sighed. “It’s hard.”

  There was a pause before he said, “I could get on a plane tonight.”

  My eyes closed. I suddenly felt the pressure of tears. It would be so easy to let Nate swoop in and make me feel safe. But I couldn’t give in to that. “I know.”

  He exhaled, apparently understanding that I was saying no. “Have you found what you were looking for yet?”

  I nearly laughed. I’d just gotten here. “No. But I think I will. If it’s not here, it’s not anywhere.”

  “Then I really hope it’s there.”

  “Me too.”

  Nate filled me in on all he was doing to get ready for school, and then he told me that he was only a phone call away before he said, “I love you.” I said it back and ended the call, only to look up and find Spencer standing a few feet away. Just the sight of him jolted me. He’d been a ghost for so long, another memory I’d locked away, that every time I looked at him tonight it felt unreal.

  His hands were buried in the front pockets of his jeans and his gray shirt stretched across his broad chest and shoulders. Shiny dark hair swept back from his face and touched the top of his collar behind his neck. When I lowered the phone, he approached me.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  Spencer took another step toward me. “Can I ask you a question?”

  Apprehensive, I tilted my head curiously at him. “I guess.”

  “Would you ever forgive an old friend who didn’t deserve your forgiveness?”

  For a moment, all I could do was look at him as I recalled the many times he’d started a sentence with those same words. He was playing the Would You Ever game. Of all the things I’d remembered about Spencer, the game was something I hadn’t focused on. At first, I’d enjoyed playing. It was something special between us, but eventually I grew to hate it. Usually it was his way of avoiding a direct conversation. The fact that he was using it now felt like a scab being ripped off an old wound. Was this why he came tonight? He wanted to ask for my forgiveness?

  “If you’re talking about yourself, there’s
nothing to forgive,” I answered, moving around him, ready to go back inside.

  “Wait.” His eyes pleaded with me to stay.

  Stopping, I stood impatiently.

  “Sarah,” he began. “When Riley told me about your scholarship and the contest you’d won, I found out who sponsored it and looked on their website. I saw a picture of your painting there. I just wanted to tell you how incredible I thought it was. It blew me away, actually. It was the dunes, wasn’t it? Our dunes.”

  Our dunes? Releasing a shaky breath, I nodded, impressed that he could see that. Some of my work was more abstract than others. The painting that won the contest was like that. Most people only saw the flow of color and light. But others saw what Spencer had, golden sand dunes being pushed and pulled by dark, threatening waves.

  He gave me a small smile, seeming pleased at something, either the subject of my painting or the fact that he’d known what it was. “You’re so talented. I’m glad you didn’t give it up.”

  I could hear the sincerity in his voice. It drew a surprisingly honest answer from me. “I couldn’t. It saved me. Just like your music saved you.”

  His face froze as if my words shocked him.

  “Music did save me,” he agreed. “But it wasn’t the only thing.” He cleared his throat and glanced away for a moment. “Have you been to see your old house?”

  “No, not yet.” I crossed my arms over my chest, thinking what a coward I’d been. Obviously Uncle Russ and Spencer both thought I’d go there first, but I hadn’t. So far, I’d chickened out.

  “I could go with you if you want.”

  My eyes shot up to his. His unexpected offer took me off guard. “No. That’s okay,” I said automatically.

  I thought I saw his jaw tense before he said, “At least take my number in case you change your mind.”

  Why was he doing this? To ease his guilt? I’d already told him that forgiveness wasn’t necessary. “I won’t,” I said, more rudely than I’d intended. “But thanks,” I added, not liking the hurt look in his eyes. Then I turned and went back inside, leaving him standing there.

  As I pushed through the crowd, moving toward our table, I decided I should have asked Spencer exactly what he wanted forgiveness for. The terrible things he’d said to me? Being unwilling to tell the police what he’d heard his uncle say? That hateful kiss? It was hard to breathe suddenly with so many memories clamoring for attention. It would have been easier if he’d just ignored me. Did he have any idea what he still did to me? Any clue at all?

  Spencer didn’t follow me back inside. He didn’t reappear until later, and when he did, he spent his time by the bar talking to people he obviously knew, most of them female. With him no longer sitting beside me, I tried to calm down and relax. I sipped my drink and listened to the music. Riley ended up dragging me onto the dance floor. In the end, we spent half the night dancing with an amused Colby content to sit back and watch. Spencer eventually rejoined us, but he didn’t speak to me directly again, and for that I was grateful.

  It was after two in the morning when Spencer drove us all home. Riley and Colby were cuddling in the back, and I was looking out the window from the passenger seat. I’d had enough to drink that I wasn’t as uncomfortable as I could have been, sitting next to Spencer, since neither of us had attempted any conversation.

  Although the tension between us was heavy, I couldn’t stop thinking of the things he’d said tonight before the mood went downhill. Especially the way he’d complimented my painting, even going so far as to look for it online. He knew it was of the dunes. He’d called them our dunes.

  I hated how I turned his every word over in my head just like I used to, my emotions ebbing and flowing with my interpretation. I wished he’d just talk to me, tell me what he was sorry for without any games. If he’d done that, I probably would have listened. If he couldn’t, I’d rather he just stayed away.

  It was a sweltering ninety degrees out. The air-conditioning in Riley’s car was broken, and for the first time I called it a shitbox to its face. Well, to its dashboard while I sat there sweating, eyeing the street sign for Sandy Neck Lane. We’d lived at number 8 Sandy Neck Lane, but I didn’t turn onto the street. Instead I’d parked on the corner and just stared at the sign. It hadn’t changed or been updated, still bent in the middle with rust eating away at its corners, the same sign I’d seen so many times. The same one my dad used to drive by every day.

  My hands trembled as I laid them in my lap. I was exhausted, nauseated, and slowly dehydrating inside this sauna disguised as a car. The old nightmare returned last night. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I’d practically invited it in by coming back to this town. Its reappearance left me unsettled, feeling too much like the shattered girl who ran from here, and less like the confident person I’d been pretending to be for so long.

  I ran my hands over my damp face before reaching for the door, thinking maybe I’d walk, but my fingers stopped just short of the target. Recalling Spencer’s offer to come with me, I started murmuring to myself about being brave and not needing anyone in order to do this, but I was fooling myself. I should have at least brought Riley.

  Not sure how long I sat there battling with my thoughts, I finally started the car and drove away without ever turning down Sandy Neck Lane.

  Colby’s birthday party was in a few hours and we were at Party City, waiting in line to pick up Riley’s order of balloons.

  “So you didn’t see your house?” Riley asked.

  “No.” I fidgeted with the strap of my dress, trying to straighten it.

  “Want me to go with you tomorrow?” she asked, her tone sympathetic.

  I sighed and shifted my weight. “Would you mind?”

  “Of course not. We can stop in and see my folks. They’ve been wanting to see you anyway.”

  I smiled gratefully. Then my phone dinged with a text.

  TESSA: When are u moving back? If you’re not here, who will I take to the prom?

  I squinted at it and reread it twice. What?

  TESSA: It’s Derrick. I borrowed Tessa’s phone.

  I laughed and felt Riley eyeing me curiously, then quickly typed back a message.

  ME: Your prom is four years away.

  DERRICK: I’m a planner. You know this about me.

  ME: If you still want to go with me in four years, then yes. Now give Tessa her phone back!

  DERRICK: Awesome. No need to yell.

  He added an emoticon sticking its tongue out at me.

  “Anything important?” Riley asked.

  “My friend’s brother just asked me to his prom.”

  Her expression perked up. “Really? Is he cute?”

  “I guess. He’s twelve.”

  She wrinkled her nose at that. “Twelve-year-olds have proms?”

  “No.”

  Riley shot me a confused look just as the woman in front of us finished, and it was finally our turn. The kid behind the counter pushed a bunch of blue balloons in our direction as he continued filling more.

  “Are those all yours?” I asked. “They’re not going to fit in your car.” Then I winced at the harsh sound of helium being emptied from an industrial-sized tank into yet another blue balloon. Colby’s favorite color was blue, and he was turning twenty-two. So apparently, she’d ordered twenty-two of them. “You could have gotten him twenty-two blue candles for his cake,” I suggested, watching as the growing herd of balloons bounced up against the ceiling.

  “I did that too.” She looked worried now. “I think you’re right. They won’t all fit in the car. You don’t deliver, do you?” she asked.

  The tall kid in the green Rajon Rondo Celtics tank shirt working behind the counter raised mocking, doubtful eyebrows at her. “By the way,” he said casually. “I’m out of blue balloons. Do you want another color?”

  Riley’s hands met her hips. “Excuse me?”

  He blinked at her tone. “We’re out of blue.”

  She looked about ready to jump over t
he counter and strangle him.

  “How many blue ones have you filled?” I asked.

  Throwing Riley a weary look, he said, “Twenty-one.”

  She appeared relieved. “Then you’re only one short. I’m sure you can find one more blue balloon back there.”

  Sighing, he bent down and checked the drawers beneath the counter and behind the tank. Then he scanned the area before turning around to shrug at us. “There aren’t any more.”

  “But I called over a week ago. I ordered twenty-two blue balloons. How can you stand there and say you don’t have twenty-two blue balloons when I specifically called and ordered them? Count them again,” she demanded.

  The kid’s expression seemed desperate as he glanced at me for help.

  “What about a red one?” I suggested.

  She turned on me. “Seriously? One red balloon when all the rest are blue?”

  “Maybe you could get more red ones. Take out some of the blue and do half red and half blue.”

  She seemed to be considering this when the kid said, “But you still have to pay for all the blue ones I already inflated.”

  Riley bore down on him. “What is your problem?”

  He backed up with his hands in the air. She was totally losing it over balloons? In another second, the kid would probably be calling the cops on her.

  “Add one red one,” I told him. Then I turned to Riley. “We’ll say it’s for good luck. Pretend it’s on purpose. It will be fine.”

  Her eyes grew glassy. “I just want everything to be perfect. This is Colby’s first birthday since we’ve been together. I want to make it special for him.”

  I got the feeling this wasn’t just about balloons. “He’ll love whatever you do.”

  She sniffled and nodded.

  “Let’s make the first trip.” I reached over for the balloon strings. “We’ll come back for the rest, including the red one,” I told him.

  His eyes darted to Riley before he rolled them at me, thinking I’d commiserate with him over my nutty friend. He was wrong. After shooting him an annoyed look, I walked out with a bouncing bunch of balloons trailing behind me. Beside me, Riley scowled with her own bunch bouncing above her head. By the time we’d worked together to push, squish, and cram all the balloons into her tiny Honda, we were both laughing.