by Kasie West
What were my issues with my mother? Aside from her embarrassing me at every turn. There had to be more than that, didn’t there? Because that would be a really dumb reason to be so angry with her all the time.
“Maybe I blamed her … for my father leaving,” I said at last. “If she wasn’t so … her … then he’d have wanted to stay. My dad would still be here.” I put my hands on the railing of the platform and lowered my head. “That’s so wrong of me. He left. I should’ve been mad at him, but it’s like I thought I understood why he wanted to. I mean, look at me, I can’t wait to get out of here. Micah is right about me. I’m a judgmental, self-righteous, horrible person.” And Micah had finally figured that out. Had finally had enough of me. She’d called me out and was done.
“Sophie,” Andrew said, putting his hand on my shoulder.
I turned into him, letting him wrap his arms around me.
“You aren’t horrible,” he said.
“I am. I’m not mad at my dad. I mean, I wasn’t until tonight. He’s been lying to me and he’s irresponsible and flighty and selfish and what if I’m exactly like him?” Tears streaked down my face, the ones I’d been holding in all night. I couldn’t hold them back now.
Andrew rubbed my back softly. “It was easier to be mad at your mom because you see her every day.”
“I’m tired of being angry.”
“My mom left and I only blamed her, never saw that my dad would be hard to live with. We’re opposites.”
“We are,” I said. “In so many ways.”
“Is that why we have a hard time getting along?” he asked, his breath on my temple.
“Probably. Or you’re just impossible.”
He chuckled a little and I could feel it rumble against my chest.
I started to smile but then the night weighed on my shoulders.
“The maze will keep this a secret, right?” I asked, looking up at Andrew. “We can’t have people getting the wrong idea about us.”
I couldn’t make out the expression in his eyes, but he nodded. “I have complete faith in the maze.”
When we finally made it out, we both let out a shout of victory.
“Remind me never to enter us into any sort of puzzle race,” Andrew said.
“If this was a puzzle, I would’ve figured it out a lot faster,” I argued.
“Oh really?”
“Yes.”
He started to respond but then he looked around. “Um … the whole town was just going to leave us in there?”
I looked around too. How long had we been in that black hole? All the booths were broken down and trucked away. All the tables were stacked and waiting to be moved. And nearly every car in the dirt parking area was gone. All except the flower van. The tins of flowers were lined up beside it. Caroline had left. Micah had left. Everyone had left.
“You think you can give me a ride home?” Andrew asked.
“Of course.”
Our jovial mood from before subsided as we walked to the van. “Your dad will get over it,” I said after a few minutes of silence.
“So will Micah,” he responded.
I could tell that neither of us completely believed the words we’d just uttered. Because if I knew one thing about Micah it was this: Once she’d moved on from someone, she moved on for good.
ORANGE CALLA LILY
According to Greek legend, Zeus brought his love child to his wife, Hera, to drink her milk while she was asleep. When she awoke in anger and pushed the child away, milk flew across the sky. The drops that landed on the earth grew into calla lilies. This is about the strangest origin story ever for a flower. But sometimes strange is beautiful.
Tradition was that every year on Thanksgiving, we went to the Williamses’ house. Mr. Williams cooked most of the meal, and my mom and I brought a side dish, pretending our contribution was needed. And we ate and laughed and were grateful. But this year was different. Micah and I hadn’t talked to each other in a month. One month. I had tried to apologize, she’d tried to apologize, but then we had immediately rehashed the same argument again, unable to agree.
So I’d spent the last month pretty much alone with my design journal. Applications were due basically now, and I hadn’t turned in a single one. Micah, of course, who had lots of connections in this town, had spent the last month busy with friends. Which had only driven home her point.
Despite our fight, our clueless parents were keeping tradition alive, which was why I found myself sitting in the car in front of Micah’s house, my brother holding a pan of corn pudding in the back seat and my mom wearing the dress I’d gotten her for Mother’s Day.
I suddenly understood why she’d never worn it before. I had prided myself on always doing what was best for a client, and yet I had picked her out a dress that was utterly and completely not her. It had an empire waistline and hit her below the knee. It was loose fitting and had vertical stripes, and she may as well have been going to Sunday school with how proper she looked in it. What had I been thinking? I had been trying to change her, that’s what I’d been thinking.
“Y’all ready?” my mom said, turning off the car.
“I’ll be up in a minute,” I said. My design notebook was open in my lap. “I want to finish this sketch.”
“Sophie,” my mom started, but I just gave her a look. “Okay, okay. See you in a minute.”
She and Gunnar climbed out of the car. I watched them walk to the door and be welcomed in by Mrs. Williams. I watched as Mrs. Williams waved to me. I waved back. Then I stared down at my journal.
“Ugh.” I drew an X through the sketch of a dress I’d been half-heartedly working on. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe New York was out of my reach. I’d been thinking about that a lot in the last few weeks too. I had a scholarship and could apply to a school here in Alabama. It was time to admit defeat. I tucked my journal into my bag and climbed out of the car, dreading today.
I knocked on the door and Mrs. Williams opened it with a big smile. “Sophie Evans! Where have you been the last few weeks? Get your cute butt in here.” She grabbed me by the face and kissed my cheek.
“Hi, Mrs. Williams. Happy Thanksgiving.”
My mom and Gunnar were still lingering in the entryway, talking with Mr. Williams.
“I hope y’all don’t mind our additional guests this year.” Mrs. Williams looked directly at my brother. “I know Mr. Hart wasn’t kind to you a few weeks ago but he promised to be on his best behavior.”
I hadn’t realized the Harts were coming. My mom didn’t seem surprised, though, so she must’ve been warned.
“It’s okay,” Gunnar said. “Andrew brought me a milk shake from his dad last week, so that means he’s real sorry.”
I was sure the milk shake hadn’t been from his dad, but it had worked on Gunnar perfectly.
“Is that for me?” Mrs. Williams asked Gunnar, gesturing to the pan he held.
“It’s corn pudding.” Gunnar extended it out to her.
“Perfect!” Mrs. Williams said. “That’s exactly what we were missing.” She said this every year, no matter what we brought. We could bring a bag of air and she’d probably say, That’s exactly what we were missing.
Gunnar looked very pleased with this pronouncement.
“Micah!” Mrs. Williams called out. “Sophie is here!” When Micah didn’t come, her mom gestured down the hall. “I think she’s in her room. You can go on back.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“Point me to the wine,” Mom said. Mrs. Williams laughed and walked with my mom farther into the house, my brother trailing after them.
I clutched the strap on my backpack and stared at the long, dark hall in front of me. In the past month, Micah might not have noticed my absence, being surrounded by all her friends, but to me it felt like a piece of my soul was missing. We needed to work this out. The first step forward was the hardest. After that my feet easily found their way to her door.
I knocked quietly.
“
Come in,” she said.
I opened the door and stood in the doorway. She sat in front of her mirror, applying a shimmery gold eye shadow. Her eyes met mine in her mirror.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi,” she said back. She put her eye shadow into its makeup bag, then burst into tears.
I let my backpack slide off my shoulder and onto the floor. I rushed to her side, tears pouring down my face as well.
“I’m sorry, Soph,” she said. I knelt down and hugged her tight, and was so relieved when she hugged me back.
“Me too,” I said. “Really sorry.”
“I’ve missed you. I can’t live like this, without you.”
“Me neither.” Just her saying those words seemed to put back together something inside of me. “You were right. I have been a snob. And I have dreamed of nothing but leaving this town and I was rude and judgmental and hard to be around.”
“No.” Micah sniffled and pulled back from our hug. “I mean, yes, you kind of were, but I’ve just been scared to lose you. You’re right. I’ve taken something that happened to you, your dad leaving, and acted like it was some sort of omen of the future.” She shook her head. “I know you’re not him. I know you would never forget about me.”
“Never.”
“And I’ve kept you away from your one true love.”
I started to nod but then her words sank in. “Wait, what?”
“Andrew.”
I laughed a little, drying my eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“I wanted you to be with someone from Rockside, someone like Kyle. I hoped it would keep you here. So from day one I’ve tried to get you to ignore this connection you have with Andrew.”
I covered my face with my hands. “That wasn’t your fault at all. Andrew and I don’t need any help being at odds.”
“Believe me, a little push was all you needed from the beginning,” Micah said. “Instead I’ve been pulling you both away from each other. Please don’t be even more mad at me.”
I chuckled. “I’m not. He’s not my one true love.”
She groaned. “See, I’ve talked you out of him. You hate him because of me.”
“Andrew’s fine. I mean, I can see why people like him. I definitely don’t hate him. We get along now …” I trailed off. “Oh no.”
“See! You love him.”
Fear gripped my chest. Holy crap. She was right.
Well, okay. I didn’t know about the love part but … I couldn’t deny it anymore. I had feelings for Andrew Hart. I had feelings for someone who was not only leaving in less than two months, but who was so far out of my league that we technically should’ve never met in the first place.
“He’s leaving in like six weeks,” I said. “It’s too late to figure this out.”
“I know. That’s my fault!”
I squeezed her hand. “Stop. It’s not your fault. Has he said anything to you about where they’re going next? Has his dad picked yet?”
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“I just … There was this lady who applied who lives nearby. I met her sister at that benefit. I thought maybe …”
“Oh!” Micah brightened. “I hadn’t thought of that. That could work. We have to make that work. It will be my penance.”
“What’s my penance, then?” I asked.
“Just stop being a snob,” she said with a smile. “And come back and visit me on every major holiday. You can do the flowers.”
I laughed. “No flowers, but I’ll be here.” I swiped beneath my eyes. “Look at us. We’re both a mess.”
She turned toward the mirror. “I just did my makeup too!” She pulled a makeup wipe from her just-in-case and handed it to me. “Guess we get to start over.”
As we worked on our makeup, side by side, I couldn’t help but smile. When my eyeliner was fixed, I reached for the small bowl of assorted candy Micah always kept on the dresser next to her mirror. I plucked a Hershey’s Kiss from it, unwrapped the candy, and put it in my mouth.
“Why did you bring a backpack?” Micah asked, nodding toward where my bag had dropped in the corner. “Planning on doing homework today?”
“Ugh, my design journal is in there. But, also …” I scooted over to my bag then dragged it back to Micah. “I was in Everything the other day and I found something.” I undid the zippers and pulled out a tall rectangular box with two lenses on the front and several knobs on either side.
Micah peered at the object. “What is it?”
“A vintage camera. Someone must’ve cleaned out their attic and didn’t realize what they had. Tell me this isn’t cool?”
“It’s cool … but I didn’t know you liked cameras.”
“Not me. It was cheap.” Sort of. “I thought Andrew might like it. We could give it to him for Christmas.”
She took the camera from me and turned it over a few times in her hands. “Are you seriously trying to tell me that you didn’t know you liked Andrew before today?”
“I … apparently don’t know myself very well at all. I’ve learned that lately.”
A knock sounded at the door, followed by the sound of Andrew’s voice. “It’s me. Can I come in?”
I quickly shoved the camera back in my backpack and zipped it up. “Don’t tell him.”
“Which part am I not telling him about?” Micah asked with an innocent smile. “That?” She pointed to the bag. “Or that?” She pointed to my face, and I could feel my blush.
“Please,” I said, and grabbed a mascara tube from Micah’s makeup stash and turned toward the mirror.
“Come in,” Micah sang out.
Andrew poked his head around the door. “I was told this was where the party was.”
I laughed, even though his statement wasn’t funny at all. Crap. Micah wouldn’t have to say a word about anything—I was going to give myself away all on my own.
He couldn’t know I liked him yet. Not with him leaving in six weeks and me having no idea at all how he felt about me.
His eyes flickered to me. “Sophie Evans,” he said. “My maze partner. Nice shirt.”
I looked down at my long-sleeved tee, which was navy blue with little bumblebees all over it. Then I said, “I can get you one.”
He stepped all the way into the room. “Does it come in turtleneck form? I only wear my tight shirts in that style.” He sat on the edge of the bed.
“Don’t tempt me,” I said.
He shrugged. “You’re the one who offered.”
I studied him from where I sat. Andrew Hart was handsome. It wasn’t like I hadn’t noticed that before. I mean, I had noticed it the first day I met him. But personality always played a bigger role for me, and the more I got to know him, the more his looks had faded. But somewhere in the last couple of months—maybe it was sitting watching fireworks through a hole in the roof during July Fourth, or eating ambrosia salad off his fork at a funeral, or finding our way through a corn maze together—he had turned a corner and I could now objectively say he was very, very handsome. It was a combination of a lot of things—the way he carried himself with ease and confidence, his thick brown hair, his playful blue eyes, his contagious smile.
“What?” he asked.
He’d caught me staring. I tried to play it off and started applying mascara.
“So is this what you’ve been doing for the past however many Thanksgivings?” I asked, facing the mirror with Micah.
“Coming to Micah’s house? No, we just met at the beginning of the year.”
Micah laughed and swatted at his leg.
I rolled my eyes. “I meant spending it with the family of the business your dad is mentoring or whatever.”
“Actually, we usually cater on Thanksgiving,” Andrew said.
“What?” I asked, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Really?”
“Really.”
“You poor, overworked white boy,” Micah said.
“I know. It’s a true sob story,” he said.
Micah h
eld her hand out for the mascara and I placed it in her upturned palm. “It is kind of sad, actually,” she said.
“Sad, pathetic? Or sad, you now want to take care of me?”
“A little of both,” Micah said.
“I’ll take care of you,” I said, then my ears went hot. It was supposed to come out as a joke but it sounded extra flirty.
Andrew’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“Well, that’s the best offer you’re getting all day,” Micah said. “Although my mother might make a similar offer.”
“Um …” he said.
“That sounded inappropriate,” Micah said. “It wasn’t meant to. I just meant, she really likes to mother people. All of us will be taken care of by my mother today. I’m going to shut up now.”
I laughed, grateful she had hijacked the awkwardness because I had been on a one-way street to There’s No Turning Back From Here.
Micah capped her mascara and threw it into her makeup bag. “There. I am now even more beautiful.”
I smiled at her. She already had naturally long lashes and didn’t even need mascara at all. “Should we join the others?” I asked.
“Well, unless someone else wanted to borrow any makeup.” Micah winked at Andrew.
“I have always wondered what I’d look like with eyeliner.”
“You’d look amazing,” Micah said, then stood and pointed to the carpet where she’d been sitting. “Come. It is time for your wondering to be over.”
“I was joking,” he said.
“Joking has consequences, my friend. And this is yours.” She dug through her makeup bag for her eyeliner. “Andrew. Now.”
He rolled his eyes and sat on the carpet next to me.
“Sophie is better at applying eyeliner than I am. It’s her steady artist hand,” Micah said. She extended the eyeliner that she’d freed from her bag to me.
I held her gaze. She raised her eyebrows in a challenge, as if asking me what I was going to do about my newly discovered feelings.
“I am pretty good at applying eyeliner.” I swiped the pencil from her hand and turned to face Andrew. I uncapped the pencil, then examined the point.
