The Last Boy and Girl in the World

by Siobhan Vivian

Her cheeks lost all their color. “Keeley, report to my office immediately.”

  I laughed. I actually laughed. “What are you going to do? Expel me?” Right then, I watched Jesse, arms full of supplies, sneak back into the adjacent classroom.

  “I’m going to go now,” I announced in the bitchiest voice I could muster. And I didn’t wait for an answer. I just started walking away.

  When I rounded the corner and realized that Principal Bundy wasn’t coming after me, I pressed my back up against one of the lockers and bit my fist to keep myself from whooping it up.

  I was almost back to my classroom when Jesse texted me.

  That was beyond hot. Meet me under the bleachers?

  What was my life? I walked straight past social studies and pushed out the door into the sunshine.

  • • •

  Though I’d suggested we go out for lunch that day, Elise actually wanted to eat in the cafeteria one last time.

  Unfortunately, I lost track of time with Jesse, and about fifteen minutes into the period, I got a text from Morgan asking, Where are you?!? This is our last lunch period all together!

  “Shit,” I said, jumping up. We’d been working on signs and making out. “I’m late for lunch.”

  “Wait, don’t go. I can’t go out tonight because I have to watch Julia,” he said, trying to cling to me. He grabbed my arm, and then one of the belt loops of my jeans, and then my back pocket.

  I wriggled free and sprinted across the field back toward the cafeteria. “Text you later!”

  I found them at our regular table. Elise had all her favorites—chicken fingers, pizza, French fries, the cookies with little broken bits of M&Ms in them—and spread it out, family style. She’d bought drinks, too: Sprite for me, raspberry iced tea for Morgan, water for herself.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late!”

  Elise gave me a knowing look. “She’s been kissing Jesse,” she said, cocking her head toward Morgan but keeping her eyes on me. “See how her lips are all bee-stung and pouty. And her face is sparkling.” As soon as she said it, her forehead wrinkled up. “Wait a second. You’re actually sparkling. Is that glitter on your face?”

  I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand, which I then noticed was slashed in marker. “Jesse and I were under the bleachers, making signs for Dad’s rally.”

  Elise’s smile faded.

  I’d been careful not to talk too much with Elise about what my dad was up to. I wanted to be sensitive. Her house was gone, she was moving to Florida regardless of how things would shake out. I shared a strained look with Morgan and then I noticed the notebook she had open in front of her. Quickly, I pointed to it and said, “Anyway, what are you guys up to? Tic-tac-toe wars?”

  “We’re working on the guest list for Elise’s good-bye party.”

  Now that Elise’s family had plane tickets, Monday loomed over us and lent an urgency to our remaining time together. Elise still wanted to be pouty, but honestly, I think we were all aware that there wasn’t time for that. So she shook whatever annoyance she had with me away. “Okay. So the latest is”—and her face went excited again—“it’s a two-pronged thing. I’m going to invite people to the hotel to swim. And then, afterward, I convinced my parents to rent us our own hotel room for the night. So we can spend my last night here together.”

  “Whoa. That’s awesome!” I dropped into my seat and started chomping on a French fry.

  Morgan readied her pen.

  Elise started with friends from school. The girls in our homeroom, some of her friends from Dance Committee.

  Elise looked up at me benevolently. “Jesse Ford, of course. And we should probably invite Zito, too, so he won’t be lonely without him.”

  “Thanks,” I said. It was nice, but I was also aware that having Jesse Ford at her party would only make Elise look cool in front of her other friends.

  Then Elise and Morgan went over which friends from Saint Ann’s to include.

  Suddenly, Elise touched Morgan’s arm, but she kept her eyes on me. “What do you think about inviting Wes?”

  Morgan stiffened. It was clear this was an ambush. She was just as surprised as I was.

  I shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with it.”

  I honestly didn’t. In fact, I’d love for Wes to see how a good boyfriend was supposed to behave. Jesse wouldn’t insult anyone. He wouldn’t try to make people feel bad about themselves. Jesse would be so funny and fun, he’d probably organize chicken fights in the pool or a cannonball contest. Maybe a synchronized swim to send Elise off. I imagined Wes standing on the pool’s edge, arms folded, pouting, absolutely no fun at all. It might even help Morgan to see the contrast so clearly. If there was any part of her that still missed Wes, I bet that would erase it for good.

  Also, it would likely be the last Wes land mine I’d ever have to navigate. With Elise gone, I certainly wasn’t ever crossing paths with those guys again. And I doubted Morgan would either.

  “I don’t know,” Morgan said. “Maybe that isn’t such a great idea.” She kept her head down, and she picked at the paper fringe inside the metal spiral of her notebook.

  Elise blinked a few times. “Okay, no problem. I just thought I’d throw it out there.”

  I’m still not sure of Elise’s intentions, if she really wanted Wes at her party, or if she was looking for a way to make trouble between Morgan and me. Whatever it was, though, it definitely worked out in my favor.

  22

  * * *

  Friday, May 20

  Increasing clouds through the afternoon, turning to rain by early evening, low of 54°F

  * * *

  After school, I waited out front for Levi. But he didn’t show. So I texted him, Yo. I’m here, where are you?

  No. I’M here. Where are YOU?

  I turned around in a circle. Are you pranking me?

  I’m at the police station. I texted you earlier to meet me there.

  You did not. And then I scrolled through my messages, just to make sure. I have no message like that from you.

  I stood there, waiting for him to write back. It took a while. I glanced up at the school clock. Someone had removed the golden hands. It was now just a blank face. And it bummed me out.

  Sorry. It was in my drafts folder.

  Idiot. I angrily typed, Well, are you coming to pick me up?

  I have to talk to my dad. Meet me here.

  Luckily, the police station wasn’t far from the high school. Just a few blocks away, the building next to City Hall. But it didn’t make me any less annoyed. I hated this job. Hated it more than anything. Both the work, which was so boring, and the company, which was terrible.

  The police station hummed with activity, people busily attending to phone calls or the copier or phones.

  I didn’t see Levi, so I took a seat to the side of the front counter. A few officers eyed me up as they passed, likely because of Dad.

  Finally Levi walked out, followed by Sheriff Hamrick. Levi limply handed me some paperwork. “You need to fill this out to get paid.”

  I felt so dirty, working through the blank forms, signing up to help the enemy. Because every single house Levi and I would clear would be one less family who could join Dad in the fight to save Aberdeen. I was almost relieved that the third blank was something I couldn’t answer. I looked up and announced, “I don’t know my social security number.”

  Grinning, Levi glanced at his father, who was leaning across the counter. “Did you hear that, Dad?”

  Sheriff Hamrick hadn’t. He was speaking to a woman behind the desk. So Levi said, louder, “Keeley doesn’t know her social security number either.”

  “No excuse. Get that residency paperwork in the mail tomorrow, Levi.”

  “Okay, okay.” Levi pushed out the door, leaving me to follow a few steps behind.

  “What was that about?”

  “College stuff. He’s worried I’m going to get shut out of the summer session dorms if I don’t hand in some health form,
but it doesn’t work like that. Whatever. I don’t care. Let’s go.”

  I shrugged. “All right. So. How many houses are we going to do today?”

  “Why, you have someplace else to be?” he huffed.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact.”

  Levi dropped his head backward. “Are you always like this?”

  “Like what?”

  “Fucking impossible?”

  I let my mouth fall wide open. I had never, ever heard Levi curse once.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m actually kind of impressed.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Well, that says a lot.”

  • • •

  We did seven houses, only three of which we were able to give an X. But seventy bucks was seventy bucks, and if I just thought of the work as a business transaction, I found it went much more painlessly.

  Levi looked over his list. “I’m thinking we skip this last place.”

  I stood behind him on my tiptoes to see what he was pointing at, an address that we’d apparently skipped the last time we were out too. “You sure?” I tried not to sound too enthusiastic, but really, I did want to get over to Morgan’s. And Levi didn’t seem all that into the work today. I didn’t know if it was the tiff with his dad or what, but he wasn’t his normal taskmaster, anal-retentive self. It was like he was sleepwalking.

  “Yeah. Better we get home before it starts to pour.”

  We closed up the front door and sprayed our red X. A big roll of thunder rumbled over our heads.

  “I think we’re too late for that,” I said. We made it a few steps off the porch before a few pitter-patters quickly gave way to a downpour. We ran back inside the house for cover and stood at the windows.

  With the stormy sky, it was suddenly very dark in the house, and there was no electricity to turn on.

  “Don’t be nervous. This isn’t going to last long,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  “And this rain won’t be enough to flood things.”

  “Okay.”

  “And if we got into trouble, we could always call in to my dad.”

  “I’m not scared, Levi, but you’re starting to scare me.”

  “Sorry.”

  The next few minutes passed quietly.

  And then, out of nowhere, Levi said, “I saw your dad on the news, talking about his rally. He sounded pretty confident.”

  “It’s easy to be confident because he’s right. What’s happening to Aberdeen is a thousand percent fucked up. At least he has the courage to say so.”

  I expected him to defend his dad or the mayor. He didn’t. Instead he said, “I read his manifesto thing. He made some interesting points.”

  “That’s big of you to say.” I sighed. “Did your dad read it?”

  “Doubtful. He’s busy, Keeley. He’s working, like, twenty-four hours a day.”

  I thought about how my dad had said Mayor Aversano probably was getting something out of supporting the governor. If he was, I bet Sheriff Hamrick would too. It could be the smoking gun my dad needed. Proof that Governor Ward was giving kickbacks to all the people helping him clear Aberdeen out. So I straight-up asked Levi. “What’s in it for your dad?” Levi looked like he didn’t understand the question at first. “He obviously won’t be the sheriff if this all goes down as planned.”

  Levi shrugged. “He’s been thinking about leaving Aberdeen for a long time now. Especially after I got into college.”

  “Oh, so this has nothing to do with a cushy appointment somewhere else? Pretty convenient timing.”

  “A cushy appointment? Come on, Keeley. He might take another job. I don’t know anything about it. But I know he’s not staying here. Nobody’s going to have that choice. Here is going to be gone.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Yeah, we will.”

  We stayed in the house a little while longer, both of us on our phones. Then the rain let up a little, and I think neither of us wanted to wait until it stopped completely. So I climbed on the back of Levi’s bike and let him give me a ride to Morgan’s.

  • • •

  Morgan and Elise were sitting on the bedroom floor surrounded by stuff. So much stuff, it was hard to push open the door.

  I didn’t realize my mouth was hanging open until Morgan teased, “Relax, Keeley. I’m not packing.”

  But even though that was what she said, it looked like packing to me. Or at least preliminary packing. And if it wasn’t, why did Elise roll her eyes? I totally caught her doing it, and it instantly made my stomach feel sour. I’d thought whatever annoyance she’d felt at me had been squashed before the end of lunch. But maybe not.

  Anyway, Morgan had clothes in piles on the floor. I could see how she sorted them based on what was where. The clothes that were newer, or that I knew she liked, were set neatly near her desk. A seersucker sundress. Her favorite jeans, with the rip in the knee. Her fall coat, a red wool one with a hood and wooden toggle buttons, which was only one season old.

  The other clothes were rolled up into balls. Heaped into piles. A stretched-out T-shirt that was once her favorite but that now she only wore to bed. A bathing suit from two summers ago. A pair of denim overall shorts.

  Elise opened a box and dug out a white leotard with a tutu made of feathers. “How cute is this?”

  “My old dance recital costumes! I haven’t looked at these in years!”

  I changed out of my wet clothes and then sat on Morgan’s bed, watching as they pulled things out of the box. Elise reacted to the cuteness, the tininess of every outfit. But I knew what every costume was, the recital Morgan had worn it in. At one point, I grabbed her strawberry outfit after Elise had tossed it aside. With a lot of wriggling, I managed to pull it on over my clothes, and did a few of the moves from the April Showers dance, which of course sent Morgan into hysterics. Elise went over and sat at Morgan’s desk and began testing nail polish colors, painting stripes along her thumbnail, determined not to laugh.

  After taking a bow, I sat down with my back against the wall and tried to catch my breath. That’s when I noticed one small box in her keep pile. The flaps hadn’t been closed and I saw all the Wes stuff she’d hidden in her top drawer.

  I took out my phone and started scrolling through who knows what, just to have something else to stare at.

  “Whoa,” Morgan gasped. “Keeley! Check it out!”

  She sank to the floor, cross-legged, next to me. In her lap was our sticker album.

  I say our, even though it was a gift for Morgan from her grandmother the summer before we started high school.

  Yes, high school.

  Every holiday, every birthday, every possible gift-buying occasion that passed, we were reminded that Morgan’s grandmother was under the delusion that Morgan was perpetually nine years old. The presents she got were always weird and completely off-base, like a dolly or a craft kit to puffy-paint a jean jacket. We’d always laugh so hard about them on the ride home, and they were honestly such bizarre picks that Mrs. Dorsey never scolded us for being rude.

  But the sticker album truly blew our minds. There were collection pages with headings like Rainbows Forever and My Favorite Animals and Funny. When I saw that page in particular, I laughed so hard, I peed a little. What the eff kinds of stickers went on that page? There were blank pages too, in the back, with spaces to create your own categories.

  For whatever reason, likely boyless boredom, we became obsessed with filling it up.

  We were always looking for stickers. We’d buy them at the drugstore, we’d order them online, it was always the aisle we’d hit at the Walmart—just past the greeting cards and just before the art supplies.

  And every single time we’d go to Viola’s Market, we’d stop at the sticker machine near the exit doors. Two quarters and you could have a rubber moon bounce ball, a plastic egg with a fake gold necklace, or a sticker. The stickers would come out sandwiched between two pieces of stiff white cardboard. There were a couple Morgan alw
ays hoped to get. Two unicorns frolicking under one rainbow, a pink teddy bear with hearts for eyes that I found slightly creepy. Those were the ones advertised in the glass display right above where you put your quarters in. But they proved to be somewhat elusive, to the point where Morgan was convinced they weren’t in the machine at all. Without fail, she’d get something weirdly masculine, like a reflective motorcycle or a skull and crossbones or a dagger dripping blood. We even dedicated a whole page in the book to Biker Gangs.

  Our best page, though, was the very last one. Morgan knew it too. When she opened the book up, she flipped right to the back.

  The Story of Morgan and Keeley

  After we got bored with filling the assigned pages, we decided to use stickers like emojis or codes and tell our future life story. It was part of the challenge, using whatever you got to push the story further along, like those exercises you do in creative writing class. Morgan always said, though, that if we ever managed to score the double unicorn from Viola’s, it was game over. There could be no happier ending than that.

  It looked like hieroglyphics. A banana-seat bicycle, Strawberry Shortcake and her friends dancing around a mushroom, a reflective globe, a heart, a reflective unicorn, a dinosaur. All carefully, deliberately placed, left to right across the page.

  Morgan pointed at a metallic Batman and Robin, racing off to fight, the lights of Gotham City twinkling behind them. “Was this supposed to represent our future husbands?”

  “No. This was supposed to be us going on vacation to New York City once we graduated high school.”

  “I can’t believe you remember that.”

  Elise spun around to face us, flapping her hands through the air so her fingernails would dry. She’d gone with a plum-colored polish. “Wait, when did you guys do this?”

  “Eighth grade,” I said. “Or, actually, the summer before ninth.”

  Elise laughed dryly. “That’s a little babyish, no?”

  I felt my face burn.

  Like I said before, Elise always made little comments about how immature I was, but never as pointedly as this. I had an idea why. The space she’d carved out between me and Morgan was closing fast, both because of the move and because I was now with Jesse.