by Rachel Auld
Nelson had settled into his usual position at our table, his gaze seeming sharper and more watchful today than usual. As I headed for the corner, I wondered if that was just my imagination running wild.
“‘Sup, bro,” he said casually as I sat down, but his tone lacked its usual warmth.
I cocked a brow in his direction. “I assume you’ve heard the news?” I asked quietly. No sense beating around the bush.
He laced his fingers behind his head as he nodded, surveying the increasing crowd in the cafeteria. “Bianca’s group was less than pleased to find out Sara would be at the dance,” he said, his soft voice laced with repressed anger. “So the bitch decided to make this as hard as possible on Sara by bringing that dickhead.”
I thought back to Sara’s joke about ending up covered in blood like a character from a horror movie and winced. “Do you think they’re going to try something?” I asked, imagining Sara burning down the school in righteous fury.
Nelson caught my drift and gave a grudging smile. “Nothing like that, no,” he admitted. “And she’s not a student here so there won’t be any Apple Queen surprises, but I wouldn’t put it past any of them to goad her into an attack.”
“Well,” I said, letting out a sigh. “I guess we’ll just have to protect her from that.”
Nelson’s smile broadened into an appreciative grin. “You’re a hell of a guy, Travis Holmes. She’s lucky to have you on her side.”
“The feeling’s mutual, man. I don’t know what we would do without you.” The honesty of that statement nearly brought tears to my eyes and I took a bite of macaroni to hide the depth of my emotions.
It didn’t matter; Nelson understood. He looked away, allowing me to compose myself. When I had finished chewing, I set down my fork and leaned back in my seat. “So. What do we do?”
I watched the play of emotions across my friend’s face, following as anger faded into deep consideration and then finally into steely resolve. “We let them bring it,” he said, his gaze cold as he focused on Bianca and her table of bleached blonde party girls across the room. “Sara didn’t get the nickname Ice Princess for nothing,” he added as a smile pulled at his lips. “She’ll freeze them where they stand and we’ll have front row seats to watch it happen. We'll make sure Jay doesn’t get any stupid ideas about getting close to her. I’d say we’ve got two-thirds of the school on our side; this showdown might be what sways the remaining third.”
All I could do was pray he was right.
CHAPTER 17: Tuesday Afternoon
I headed straight to the bookstore after school, hating the uneasy butterflies that danced in my midsection. I wanted to exude confidence, strength, an assurance that would boost Sara’s spirits in regards to the dance. Instead, I felt like I might puke as I entered the store, grateful that the door was propped and wouldn’t jingle, drawing Sara’s gaze immediately to my face.
The sight of Sara standing on tiptoe atop a stool in order to dust a tall bookcase did wonders for my mood—or rather, made me forget that I’d ever felt anything other than raw teenage lust. She wore snug jeans whose beaded back pockets hugged the most perfect of curves and a fitted red tee that rose to reveal flawless skin underneath. I couldn’t believe that she didn’t hear the pounding of my heart as it hammered against my ribcage, but I silently thanked whatever god had chosen to gift me with another moment to appreciate the sight of her. My blood heated, but my nerves settled as if her very presence was a soothing balm for my soul.
I walked slowly toward her, letting the sound of my footsteps alert her to my presence. She turned with a dazzling smile and I set my hands on her hips, lifting her down as she laughed. “Very suave, Romeo,” she teased, lifting her face for a kiss.
All of my cares melted away when my lips touched hers. Even with all of our cross-country moves, these past couple weeks had changed more for me than anything I’d ever experienced. I had never felt like I truly belonged anywhere. Between Nelson and Sara, I felt like I’d found a place to call home.
“Hmm,” she purred as we separated. “That was a lovely hello.”
I grinned like an idiot. “Indeed,” I agreed. “I think we should do that more often, in fact. Good for our constitutions.”
She snorted with laughter, then clasped a hand to her mouth in embarrassment. “Oh my god,” she muttered, closing her eyes.
I burst out laughing in response. “Oh, c’mon, it wasn’t that bad,” I protested, planting kisses against her face from temple to chin, skirting her hand.
She poked me in the belly with her other hand, then peeked out at me from between her fingers. “Mr. Holmes,” she said very seriously. I froze. “Have you been working out?”
This time, I laughed so hard that I had to sit on the stepstool she had been using. “Oh, sweetheart,” I gasped. “The only ab workout I’ve been getting is laughing with you.”
A pleased look descended over her features as she dropped her hands. “Well then,” she said smartly, “we’ll just have to be sure to keep it up. Come sit, I brought some contraband!”
We headed for the counter, hopping up onto stools before she bent over to rifle through her backpack. She pulled out two bottles of root beer and we tapped them together before taking a long swig.
Sara set the bottle against her knee and studied me closely. I tried to affect a look of innocence, but it was useless. “What happened?” she asked.
I sighed and spilled the beans. She listened in utter silence, then lifted her soda in a mock toast. “Well then,” she said. “Here’s to ruining their night!”
I stared at her uncertainly, but she winked. “Travis, those assholes can’t hurt me any more than they already have. Screw them! I’m not going to let them intimidate me out of going to a stupid dance. I’m planning to enjoy dancing with my boyfriend, drinking nasty punch and listening to potentially horrible soft rock. They’re not going to take that away from me, dammit!” She grinned. “I hope you’re not scared of them?”
This time, I was the one who snorted. “Hell no! I’ve got the Ice Princess on my side!” As soon as it escaped my lips, I froze, my eyes flying to her face.
Her brows shot up, pretty copper arches against fair skin. I cringed slightly, awaiting the fury that I’d heard only true redheads could unleash. Instead, a slow grin spread across her face. Dancing in those blue-green eyes was a mixture of amusement and intrigue. “Ice Princess, huh? That’s . . . kind of poetic.”
I was not fully convinced that I was off the hook here and searched wildly for a way to explain without throwing Nelson under the bus. “I’m so sorry, Sara, that was really stupid of me,” I began, but she waved it off.
“Travis, let’s get one thing perfectly straight,” she said solemnly. Her eyes still sparkled and I fought the urge to kiss her before she could continue. “I’m no delicate little flower, okay? High school bullies, nasty rumors, silly nicknames—they’re not going to break me. If anything, I’m actually surprised someone chose a moniker that makes me sound kind of badass,” she finished with a smirk. “Though if I find out it came from Nelson, I’ll gut him!”
I laughed, relief flooding through me. I set our soda bottles on the counter and entwined my fingers with hers. “You’re incredible, you know that?” I murmured, leaning my forehead against hers.
“Maybe a little frosty,” she teased.
Now I did kiss her, letting the warmth of her soft lips infuse my body. “I don’t know about that,” I replied, my voice sounding husky even to my own ears. “Is it too trite to say you seem pretty hot to me?”
With her laughter surrounding us, I let go of all my worries.
CHAPTER 18: Friday
The week passed more quickly than I’d imagined. Whispers died down under the icy glare of Nelson Thomas, a fact for which I was extremely grateful. Bianca’s crowd kept to themselves, decorations were hung, and the level of anticipation skyrocketed in the final days before the dance. My afternoons with Sara were like a balm, bolstering my courage. Though
I worried at times that Sara was putting on a brave face and attending the dance just to please me, by Thursday evening I was fairly convinced that she was actually looking forward to it.
Most of the teachers were as excited as the kids—maybe not for the dance they’d been wrangled into chaperoning, but for the rest of the weekend’s festivities. Apparently quite a few parties catering to various demographics were likely to spring up across town after the evening activities began to wind down. As a result, we spent Friday doing busywork and watching videos in most of our classes.
Sara helped speed the day along by texting over obscure photo “hints” about her dress. They were zoomed way in on bits and pieces—the tall heel of a black satin shoe, a rhinestone flower glittering in the light, a shining ringlet of copper hair. Each one had me smiling like a lunatic. Whatever this town might throw our way tonight, it would all be worth it just to hold Sara in my arms. The sight of her all dolled up couldn’t hurt, either, I had to admit.
When the final bell rang, a collective whoop of joy echoed through the hallways as students spilled from every classroom. I struggled against the flood to get to my locker, tossed my textbooks onto the top shelf and slung my backpack over my shoulder. Nelson’s self-sacrificing offer to find a ride home had not prevented him from insisting on being there for what he termed “The Big Reveal” at Sara’s house, so I would swing by his house to pick him up before we went to get Sara.
Nelson appeared at my side as I made my way down the front steps of the school. “You ready for this, man?” he asked. He grinned, but I could see that his excitement was tinged with anxiety.
I clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ve got this,” I said quietly, infusing the words with the confidence I’d been trying to force into my own mind for the past week. “I’ll pick you up at six?”
He nodded, his smile taking on a reckless quality that made me a little nervous. “I’ll be ready. God, I can’t wait to see what Sara’s wearing.” I shot him a stony look and he laughed, raising his hands innocently. “Purely for platonic, scientific purposes, obviously.”
“Mmhmm,” I grunted. “I’m sure Sara is not one to be impressed by a display of possessiveness, so please don’t make me go caveman on you tonight.”
Nelson laughed, all trace of concern gone from his expression. He punched me lightly in the arm before we parted ways at the sidewalk. “See you in a few, bro!” he called as he jogged off toward home. I waved to him and threaded my way through the remaining students who lingered near the parking lot. My mom had insisted I take the car to school, though the day was bright and mild; I had a feeling she was as excited as most of my classmates about this dance. She had gracefully accepted that she wouldn’t get to see Sara before the dance, but she’d dropped several not-so-subtle hints that she hoped we’d stop at the house before I took Sara home so she could see us together. I had to promise several times that we would get plenty of pictures during the night.
I felt surprisingly calm during my short drive home, almost zen about the evening ahead. I had to assume there would be trouble of some kind of another; I wasn’t naive enough to expect everything to go swimmingly. I simply felt like there was nothing more we could do to prepare than what had already been done. The dance might be fantastic or it might become high school hell on earth, but it was only a few hours out of our lives and then it would be over with. At least we would stand as a united front.
The house was silent when I got home, a fact for which I was grateful. My mom was picking up groceries, the note on the table read, and my dad was working but would be home before I left. I stood for a minute at the kitchen sink, staring out the window to the yard and taking deep, cleansing breaths. For Sara’s sake as well as my own, I felt the need to maintain my calm.
I had laid out dark slacks and a black and white checkered button-down shirt before school, but I still needed to snag a tie from my dad’s collection so I jogged upstairs to take a look. Sara had refused to give me any hint as to her dress color—worried, I suppose, that I’d go against her wishes and show up with a corsage. Fortunately for both of us, I absolutely believed that she might punch me if I did so. Still, I wasn’t sure what color tie to go with. Some of them were a little ridiculous, Father’s Day gifts from a younger, more clueless me or souvenirs from our travels. Some were truly hideous, a testament to just how long it had been since he’d needed to wear one.
I grinned as I recalled picking out a godawful neon plaid number when I was six or seven, then lifted a couple more sedate options in my hands, holding them side by side to compare. One was a dark silvery gray, the other an almost opalescent white. I brought both back to my room to place against the shirt I’d chosen and decided to go with the white. It felt a little more stylish, less business-like. If Sara hated it, I’d just have to tell her it was her fault for not letting me color coordinate with her like the more sentimental of my classmates.
By the time five-thirty rolled around, I had showered, shaved, and gotten dressed. I had to draw the line at dress shoes and laced up my black Converse sneakers instead before heading downstairs. My parents were sitting at the kitchen table and their smiles as I walked in threatened to split their faces.
“Oh honey!” my mom exclaimed. I could have sworn I saw a glimmer of happy tears shining in her dark eyes.
“Mom, it’s just a dance,” I said gently. She stood, rising up onto tiptoe to wrap her arms around me. I hugged her back and grinned at my dad over her head.
He nodded approvingly. “Excellent choice on the tie, Travis. You look sharp!”
I disentangled myself, kissing my mom’s cheek. “I gotta run so I can pick up Nelson before I go to Sara’s. I promise there will be plenty of photographic evidence of the evening,” I vowed, only half joking. I knew my mom’s heart would be broken if we didn’t get a few pictures of me and Sara together. Nelson had been instrumental in convincing my mom that he’d take at least a dozen pictures of us on my phone, in addition to making sure we visited the professional photographer who’d be at the dance. I sent him a silent word of thanks as I waved off a few more compliments and headed out to the car.
Nelson was waiting at the door when I pulled up. He wore khaki pants, a dark red shirt and a black bow tie. I grinned. “Lookin’ slick, bro!” I called out the window as he jogged around to the passenger side.
He surveyed my outfit, nodding approvingly. “You too, man! Ready to rock this?”
His enthusiasm fueled my own. I swallowed back the last of my uncertainty and high-fived him. “Let’s do this!”
I shifted the car into gear and headed toward Sara’s house. We joked a bit during the drive, the usual back and forth banter that occupied the more relaxed moments of our friendship, but I felt his tension as we turned down her street. His relationship with Sara had been mended, but he hadn’t spoken to Mrs. Matthews during that time. I knew he had stayed in touch with her to an extent, but our new little trio gave the situation more importance than just a casual hello around town.
“Hey man, it’ll be fine,” I said softly.
Nelson gave me a wry grin in response. “I know. Just one of those things.”
I couldn’t argue with that. We pulled into the driveway and got out of the car. I unconsciously straightened my tie and ran a hand through my hair, the anticipation of seeing Sara striking me like a blow to the gut. Nelson trailed a few steps behind me as we climbed the porch steps and rang the doorbell.
Mrs. Matthews answered the door, dressed in a long sweater and jeans. Though I could have sworn that I saw a hint of sadness in her eyes, her smile was brilliant as she ran her gaze over us.
“My goodness!” she exclaimed, opening the screen door to let us in. “What a lucky girl Sara is to have two gorgeous escorts tonight!” She squeezed my arm and gestured for me to proceed to the living room, then turned and wrapped Nelson in a tight hug. I politely averted my eyes and wandered into the other room, debating if I should sit or stand while I waited. I took a seat on the sofa, f
eeling awkward when I realized that had me staring right at the two of them.
Mrs. Matthews held Nelson at arm’s length, wiped a tear from her eye and kissed his cheek soundly. “If you ever avoid this house again, young man, I will make you regret it,” she said in a shaky voice. Nelson laughed and I had to smile at the threat; I could see where Sara got her spunk, that was for sure.
They joined me in the living room, where Nelson sprawled across the loveseat. Mrs. Matthews rolled her eyes at him but couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. “Sara will be right in, she’s just finishing up her preparations.”
As if summoned by the sound of her name, I heard Sara’s footsteps in the kitchen, clicking lightly across the tiled floor. Nelson and I stood as she appeared in the doorway, both of us staring at the vision before us in shocked appreciation.
The Sara who had ensnared me was undeniably beautiful, but lipgloss and ponytails were her usual style. Before us stood a goddess with an intricate up-do of ringlets, dramatic eye makeup and red lips. I was literally speechless as I stared at her. A sleek black dress hugged her curves, its thin straps made of a line of rhinestones that matched those around the hem which ended a few inches above her knee, highlighting slender, shapely legs. The black satin heels she’d teased me with belonged to a pair of sassy, strappy black sandals that were dotted with jewels. My gaze traveled back up to her face, noting the pale pink blush of her cheeks and the challenge in her gorgeous eyes. A slow grin spread across my face.
Nelson gaped at her silently and she cocked a brow at both of us. “Well?” she demanded.
