by Nessa Morgan
Hard, anyway.
“Shut up,” I tell him, playfully shoving against him with little force. He grabs my hand and threads our fingers together, his comforting touch the one thing I desire in this moment.
My blush lessens but I’m still flushed and nervous.
We’re sitting in my living room surrounded by our families. Jamie’s talking to her mother while her father steals more olives from the plate on the table—yes, this is a moment that requires finger foods in Patrick’s opinion. Even Patrick’s here. Harley wanted to watch it over here, same with my other friends, but I quickly killed that idea.
Jamie walks over and sits in front of me, her back leaning against the couch. “This is going to be fantastic.” She turns to face me.
“You didn’t say anything horrible about me did you?” Hilary asks from the kitchen table.
I look to her. “What would I have said?” I ask. She starts laughing. I force one. I’m one panic attack away from canceling this thing, sending everyone home, and barricading myself in my room as the thing plays on televisions across the country.
Molly, Zephyr’s mom, grabs the bowl of popcorn—one of five—from the coffee table and settles it in her lap as she readies herself in the recliner.
From the looks of everything, you’d think we’re having a movie night.
Not quite.
“I told Aidan about this yesterday,” Molly announces matter-of-factly from her seat. “He’s already seen it.”
Just great.
Joey, you’ve already lost your chance to pull the plug on this, I tell—more like shout—at myself. Just suck it up. How bad can this be?
“Darn that time difference.” Antonios snaps his fingers while someone turns up the volume on the ending laundry detergent commercial.
The front door bangs open, Milo rushing into the room. His pale blonde hair is wet, clinging to his features as he looks around the room. “Did I miss it?” He shouts to the room.
Zephyr chuckles next to me. “No, it’s about to start.”
Mel and Candace walk in behind him, shaking the rain from their hair.
“Geez Louise, there’s a storm out there,” Mel exclaims as she shrugs her gray jacket from her shoulders. “Thanks for the invite, Joey.” Mel plops into the next to me.
“Seriously, thank you,” Candace says to my aunt. Ever since I told Hilary that I have family, she’s taken the opportunity to get to know Candace. Of course, they knew each other from Texas—I left that out. They have some form of friendship blooming.
“Not a problem,” my aunt replies.
Milo sits next to Jamie on the floor, ready like the rest of us.
The clock strikes eight o’clock.
It’s starting.
“Hush up, people,” Zephyr commands as he pulls me closer to him, leaning me against his side. I tuck my shoulder beneath his arm and rest my head on his shoulder allowing for his hand to pull through my hair, sifting through my curls.
The butterflies fight and flutter through my stomach so fast, I think they’ve evolved into pterodactyls.
Ominous music plays as a photo of my family—my mom, Ivy, Noah, my father, and me—fill the screen. I can’t be any older than three. A voice over begins a story.
What would you do if everything was taken from you? Your family, your life… The voice is male and deep. The screen slowly transitions to a picture of me today, smiling wide and happy, my arms around Zephyr and Hilary after the final night of the Idol competition.
I tune out, remembering this bliss, this happiness, and every happy moment I’ve had since I’ve been in Washington. It’s a random time to reflect, but I feel it necessary to move through this episode. The close friends I’ve made, how my family seems to be growing bigger than I thought I’d ever have. My accomplishments. How much I’ve changed. And all of it betters me daily.
Taking a deep breath, I feel I can face this. Nearly all of my embarrassment flees.
Josephine Archembault was only seven years old when that night changed her life forever. Zephyr’s hand squeezes mine. I squeeze back, turning to look at him. I stare at the side of his face, the stubble sprouting along his jaw, the dark hair curling around his ears. He turns to me and I smile. It’s brief before I turn back to the screen.
It’s going to be okay. I know this.
Things in my life were changing at an alarming rate. Partly because of the interview: people began to look at me differently, snide remarks ceased completely, I even got a few hellos in the halls from people I’d never before met. Mostly, I started looking at life differently. I was happier, peppier, even damn near perky at times. I was tired of being the girl who hated everything and everyone, I wanted to be something different, something exciting, something new. I wanted to be new.
And I could do it.
Soon, university replies began to show up in the mailbox.
After debating with my aunt and my friends—who all say to do whatever I want to do—and myself, I apply to ten universities; five in Washington, one in Oregon, and two in both Idaho and Montana. If I’m going away to school, if that’s my final decision, I won’t be more than seven hundred miles away. The furthest university is only a ten-hour drive, easily doable in a day with a lot of energy drinks. Nothing I couldn’t handle.
“Aunt Hil!” I screamed as I shoved my way into the house, running through the living room with the seventh letter. “Aunt Hil!” I know she’s tired of hearing about these, I notice her forced enthusiasm every time I rip one open, but this time it’s a good one. The University of Oregon, my first choice. I’ve already received acceptance letters from six schools, three in my top five choices, but this was the golden ticket for me. I genuinely feel like Charlie Bucket holding the Wonka Bar. “AUNT HIL!!!” I scream up the stairs.
“Sheesh,” I hear faintly from the hall. “Coming, child.” My aunt walks down the stairs. Taking her sweet time, I might add. Goodness, lady!
“This is it!” I squeal, bouncing where I stand. “This is it, this is it, this is it, this is it, this is it…” I keep repeating those three words, staring at the envelope in my hands, contemplating my fate. It isn’t thick, but according to Jamie, who received her acceptance letter a while back, said that didn’t mean much. It’s not like it is in the movies, she told me. That gives me hope and dries my mouth.
Hilary tips my hands forward, peering at the letter in my hand. “Open it!” she nearly shouts. She’s as excited as I am about this. I’ve always wanted to be a Duck.
The smile drops from my face, a sense of fear taking over my body. “I can’t,” I whisper, terrified this could be a rejection. They could reject me and Oregon could be a wasted dream. I thrust out my hands, shoving the envelope into her grasp, and cover my eyes, demanding, “You do it.”
I hear the ripping of paper, the crumpling of a single page, and a light gasp.
My world falls. Hilary wouldn’t gasp if I got in, she’d congratulate and hug me.
“I knew it. Rejected.” I slump my shoulders and let my head fall forward. I open my eyes and stare at my shoes on the carpet. “Of course, I’m not smart enough.”
“Miss Josephine Archembault, you’re a Duck.”
It takes longer than expected for those words to sink in. You’re a Duck. Because, obviously, I heard wrong.
Then it hits me with the force of a Mack truck.
“Holy balls. You’re not joking, are you? I got in!” I jump up and rush my aunt, throwing my arms around her and tackling her to the ground. Good thing it’s carpeted. “I’m going to college.”
Hilary laughs. “I’m so proud of you, honey.”
I stand up and start dancing.
“I got in! I got in!” I sing as I twirl around the room.
A week later, I received three more acceptance letters. One was from my second choice, University of Washington. In reality, it tied Oregon for first based on location. While I wanted to be a Duck, that’s three hundred miles away, UW is
only fourteen.
Everyone told me not to make this decision, one of the biggest in my life, based on current things, like boyfriends. Zephyr told me to follow my goals and study wherever I wanted—wherever I’d accomplish the most. He knew I wanted to go to Oregon since we were ten. The only reason being I liked ducks. But after research and deciding what I wanted to do with my life, it became a goal.
But Zephyr will be here.
“I’m so proud of you,” Zephyr tells me, his arms wrapped around me. I just told him, two weeks later, about my acceptance letter. He’s excited, but I can’t share in that. He can tell. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s in Eugene, Zeph,” I confess apologetically.
“What about it?” he asks, peeling his arms from around me to lean back. He leans forward, his hair falling into his eyes.
I shake my head. “That’s far.” I don’t want to leave you…
“Don’t start this again, Jo,” he quietly warns. “You’re going to Oregon. Like you’ve always wanted.”
“But—”
Zephyr shakes his head. “I’m not going to be the reason why you change your plans.” His hands run down my arms, his hands clasping mine. “My grades aren’t terrible, maybe I can get into Oregon and we can go to school together. I’m not a bad football player, I can hope for a scholarship.”
I swing our hands out, swinging them back and forth. “But what if that isn’t my plan anymore?”
“I agree with any plan you make that doesn’t have you taking the short straw.”
I shake my head, ready to disagree. “I doubt that—”
His lips crash to mine, the surprise shocking me. I rock back, nearly falling, but his arms trap me in place.
That’s the best way to shut me up.
Stepping from the room, I straighten my shirt, smooth down my skirt, and release the biggest sigh of the day. It’s over. The presentation I’ve worked on for the past month, the paper I’ve worked on for most of the year—it’s all over. I’ve just completed my presentation and nothing fills me with more glee and joy than the thought that I can now coast until graduation. Or finals. I think I’ll have to apply myself for finals.
My hands still shake as I place the binders in my backpack, along with my note cards and laptop. Zephyr sits on the bench next to the classroom within which I just presented, leaving shocked freshmen when I finally left the room. I guess they weren’t the ones to see News Today.
“Are you happy it’s over?” Zephyr asks as I stand up straight, placing my hands on my lower back and leaning until I stretch out my muscles. His eyes are trained on the door behind me.
I’m not sure what he means. Happy it’s over, as in the presentation. Or happy it’s over, as in school? I’m happy for both, honestly, but I’m the happiest when with him.
For the program at graduation, the little booklet filled with names and plans after graduation, we have to give the office a copy of our acceptance letters as proof before they print. I happily turned in my acceptance letter to University of Washington. I haven’t told Zephyr but he shouldn’t argue with me on the subject. UW has a good political science program, that’s all I truly want.
“More than I can explain in words,” I tell him. I place my hand on his shoulder as he looks away, sadness covering his face. Sitting down, I move my hand from his shoulder to his hand, lacing our fingers together. “Though it was a good three years.”
“I can’t believe it’s almost over for you.” He squeezes my hand. “Ready for prom?”
I snort. “God, no.” See, I’m honest.
“It’ll be fun,” Zephyr tries to convince me for the seventeenth time this week. “I mean, come on, look at your date.” His grin blossoms along his face, beaming wide. There isn’t even a faint trace of the sadness once creeping through his eyes.
“Have you always been this cocky and I just never noticed?”
“How could you not notice my stunningly good looks before?”
I roll my eyes. “Stunningly good looks,” I say, deadpan.
“Yeah,” he answers matter-of-factly. “Hello, I’m gorgeous.”
“And with that,” I begin, releasing his hand. “I’ve decided that I’d like to stay home Saturday night.” I laugh as I stand, grabbing my backpack. “Come on, Gorgeous, I’m taking us home.”
nineteen
Bright flashes cause giant spots to blind my vision as I clutch onto Zephyr harder, trying to blink away the blurs. Before I can see properly, Hilary takes another picture, as does Molly, and it happens again and again and again and… well, you get it. It’s as if they haven’t seen us in formal attire before. Not me so much, but Jamie looks stunning in a pink floor length gown. She normally doesn’t wear so much pink but when she saw the dress, she knew she had to have it. My dress is blue, strapless, and long with a beaded bodice and a sash tied around the waist. My favorite part is the back. The blue fabric splits open down the middle to reveal a white beaded floral design down the back. I knew I had to have it when I saw it.
“Come on. Smile,” Molly begs when my smile falls due to blindness. “How many more times am I going to see you off to prom?”
“Uh, next year,” Zephyr interjects matter-of-factly. He’s not graduating this year. “Trust me, she isn’t going anywhere.” He tugs me closer to his side and I look up to him, kissing him lightly. FLASH! Another picture. Thanks, families.
“The limo’s here,” Jamie announces after she looks down the street. I follow her gaze, watching the sleek black car pull up. “We should really go. We’ve got reservations to keep.”
“One more picture!”
“Don’t stay out too late!”
“Antonios, it’s prom night, they have a hotel suite for goodness sake.” Should we remind them only Jamie and Marcus have a hotel suite? I plan to sleep in my own bed tonight.
“Oh,” he replies.
“Use protection!”
“MOM!” Jamie and Zephyr yell before we all head outside. I turn bright red, hiding my face in Zephyr’s shoulder.
“No,” I hear Antonios object. “Don’t use protection.”
Silence grows thick around us—a tension I’m worried to disturb.
“Uh, I mean…”
“Dad, we get it,” Jamie says, leading us through the front door. “No need to further explain yourself.” I can’t help but laugh as Zephyr pulls me through the door. “Or further shove that foot into your mouth.”
Zephyr helps me into the limo, holding the skirt of my dress as I step into the dark car and slide down the side seat. Then he holds my hand all the way to the restaurant, letting me rest my head against his shoulder.
This should be one of the happiest days of my life—I’m pretty sure it will be—but I just can’t help but feel like something is about to happen, like something is about to derail the train from the tracks. I don’t like this feeling. It’s heavy and dragging down within me. It’s not too comforting when I should be celebrating, when I should be feeling like I’ve achieved something—This is my senior prom, damn it.
After a lovely dinner, we arrive at Prom on time. Actually, we arrive a bit early and wander around the restaurant where the dance is being held. We spend a few minutes out on the patio, taking pictures in front of the water, talking about nothing as our arms wrap around each other, linking us together. Near a large picture window is a small white couch. I take a seat, pulling Zephyr down next to me. The twinkly lights above the window droop so low, they fall, but we don’t care and we’re unaffected. We’re just sitting, looking over the room, watching people arrive.
“My second dance,” I mutter, leaning my head on his shoulder. This is when I start hoping I don’t get any makeup on his suit but I know something is smeared there for the rest of the night. He won’t mind.
“And it’s your Prom,” Zephyr responds, his hand wandering up and down my back.
“I can’t believe that this—all of this—is about to end.” Nostalgia fills me. I m
ay not have liked high school—hell, I hated it most of the time—but I will miss it. I’ll miss the friends I made and the familiarity of the building, how I’m never lost. I’ll miss the sense of being a fish in a small pond surrounded by everything I know, everything I can expect. Moving on to college is terrifying me, it’s all I can do not to revoke my acceptance and stay until Zephyr can go with me.
I don’t want to move on.
I want to stay.
Tears well behind my closed-lids and I silently hope my mascara is waterproof.
“Hey, no. Don’t cry.” Zephyr lifts my head and I feel him lean forward. I open my eyes to see his brown eyes searching my face. “You can’t honestly tell me you’re going to miss this place.”
I shake my head. “I’ll be some place you’re not, Zeph. Of course, I’m going to miss this place.” I tug on his hands, feeling their warmth. “This year, this place, has changed me so much. I’m not sure how I’m going to function away from here.”
Zephyr laughs. “You’re going to go out into the real world and kick ass.” He releases my hands and places them on my shoulders. “Don’t underestimate yourself. Not for one second, Jo.”
I can’t help it. I cry harder. “See, what am I going to do without you next year?”
Zephyr shrugs, his cocky grin blooming. “You just have to remember that no matter where you are, how far away you’ll be, I am wherever you are. That’s how it’s always been, that’s how it’ll always be, Joey. I love you and distance can’t change that.” His thumbs smooth over my shoulders. “Eugene is only three hundred miles, not even five hours away. We can make it work.”
I missed the chance to tell him my plans changed.
Taking a deep breath, I look down to prepare myself. Turning my gaze back up, I open my mouth. “I’m going to UW,” I tell him.
His face transitions through several emotions. First confusion followed by anger and glee. Then more confusion and more glee back to anger.
