Together at Midnight

by Jennifer Castle

  How to do that?

  “Making the call means letting her go,” I say.

  Kendall’s quiet for a second, then simply nods. “It might not mean that.”

  “I like to be prepared for the worst-case scenario.”

  I hold out my phone again, hover over the words Eliza Home on the screen.

  Then I put my phone down again.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” says Kendall. “If you don’t, I will.”

  I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before.

  Kendall can call. Kendall has nothing to lose. Kendall and Eliza already hate each other.

  “Would you?” I ask.

  And I hold the phone out to her.

  Kendall

  WHY SHOULD I DO THIS? FOR HIM? FOR HER?

  If I do this, I’m really sticking it to Eliza, which has definite appeal.

  But also, in my heart, despite how I feel about the person in question, I know it’s the right thing to do. Plus, I’m going to go ahead and count this in the dare. Eliza and I are more than strangers, we’re enemies. Shouldn’t the last kindness be for someone like that anyway? Let’s finish this thing with a bang.

  I take out my phone.

  Max fills me in on the details of what he knows, so I can share them with Eliza’s parents.

  “Make sure they’re both on the line,” says Max. “Or at least Eliza’s dad. If it’s just her mom, we’ll try again later.”

  Max shows me the number, and I dial it and it’s ringing now, and my heart’s pounding.

  “Hello?” answers a voice. Eliza’s mom, I assume. She sounds bored. I picture an older version of Eliza, lounging on a fainting couch.

  “Hi. Is this Eliza’s mom?”

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “My name’s Kendall. I’m a friend of hers.” Already with the lies.

  “Well, hello, Kendall,” she says. Overly friendly, because she thinks she’s supposed to know me but she can’t remember, so she’s going to fake it.

  “Is Eliza’s dad home, too?” I ask.

  There’s a pause. “Why?”

  “I have something to tell you, but I want to tell you both.”

  Another pause. “You can just tell me.”

  “Can he please come to the phone, too? If he’s there?”

  She exhales slowly, then I hear her call for her husband to pick up. That it’s Eliza’s friend and it’s apparently important. Apparently.

  A click, then a deep male voice. “Hello?”

  I introduce myself. And then I do it. I tell them that Eliza has a new boyfriend and he’s thirty and his name is . . .

  “Silas,” Max whispers.

  And we, Eliza’s friends, are concerned.

  All this time, they’re silent.

  Then I hear a click. Silence again.

  “Hello?” I ask into the void.

  “I’m still here,” says Eliza’s dad. “My wife hung up. I believe she’s upset.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. You did something good, by calling us.”

  “I hope so,” I say. He doesn’t know the half of it.

  “Eliza’s lucky to have a friend like you,” he adds.

  Yeah, he knows less than half. More like an eighth . . . or maybe a twelfth.

  But I simply say, “Thank you.”

  Then we’re saying good-bye. When I hang up, I’m overcome with the sensation that I’ve performed a role in a short play that went off without a hitch.

  Max is looking at me with a very strange expression.

  “Oh my God,” I say. “Are you going to cry?”

  “No. I’m just . . . grateful. You didn’t have to do that, but you did.”

  We’re silent for a moment. The radiator in the corner clangs, and I find it strangely comforting that an apartment this trendy would still have a radiator that clangs. I take a deep breath, possibly the deepest one I’ve taken in days.

  “I think maybe someday we’ll be okay,” I say. “About Luna.”

  Max closes his eyes and nods. Takes his own deep breath. “Yeah. Maybe we will.”

  Then he opens those eyes and sees right into me. I can feel it. I want to wrap my arms around his neck and hug him for a long time, but on the other side of the door is the rest of the world and the rest of the world is waiting.

  Instead, I open the door.

  The rest of the world is not waiting, but Eliza and Jamie are.

  Um, yeah, that’s not good.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Eliza says, so slowly it’s frightening.

  I don’t know what to do so I look at Max, but clearly, he doesn’t know what to do, either. I think about closing the door, locking it, and barricading ourselves behind the mattress. Instead, I do nothing.

  “You called my parents about Silas?” says Eliza, her voice suddenly raspy.

  “It wasn’t her,” says Max.

  “I just heard her talking to them!”

  “I asked her to do it.”

  He steps in front of me.

  “You?” asks Eliza.

  “Yeah.”

  She spins and runs away, across the loft toward the front door.

  Max starts to go after her, but there’s Jamie, grabbing his arm. He shakes his head at us, his grip still firm on Max. “I’m totally confused. What’s going on between you two?”

  “Nothing!” I say, cringing at how defensive and weak it sounds.

  “You wouldn’t help me, so she did,” says Max, not defensive and weak at all.

  “It had to be tonight?” asks Jamie. His gaze settles on me, full of betrayal. “It had to be her?”

  “Yes,” says Max. It’s the most badass, sure-of-itself, don’t-fuck-with-me yes I’ve ever heard.

  Jamie shakes his head. “Shit, Max. Haven’t you messed up Eliza enough already?”

  “What are you talking about? All I’ve ever done is cleaned up her messes.”

  “You’re still around instead of at college. You invited her into the city to spend New Year’s with you. Dude, don’t you understand how confusing that is for her?”

  Max opens his mouth to say something, but can’t think of anything fast enough, I guess.

  Jamie sighs, really pissed off now. “I’ll go find her. Why don’t you hurry up and get on with your life already?”

  He stomps over to the front door, finds his coat and also Eliza’s, then turns to me. Baffled and hurt.

  “Are you coming back?” I ask him.

  “I don’t know,” he says.

  I nod.

  Then he’s gone.

  Max

  IF I GO NOW, I CAN FIX THIS.

  I can catch up to them. Talk to Jamie and explain how much the thing with Luna jammed me up. How much Kendall helped me.

  Once things are okay with Jamie, I can make things okay with Eliza. And even if I can’t, at least I can make sure she’s safe. Not wandering the city by herself at midnight. I can make sure she gets home tomorrow. I’ll take her myself if I have to.

  I start for the door.

  Someone grabs my arm again. The same spot that Jamie grabbed, so it’s still a little tender. This time, it’s Kendall.

  “What?” I snap at her.

  “Don’t go after them,” she says.

  “I have to.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Kendall . . .”

  “What you have to do, is you have to stop.”

  I shake her hand off my arm and step away. I’d like to sit, but there’s nowhere to do that.

  “Max,” continues Kendall. “You said you were prepared to let her go. So do it!”

  She’s right, of course.

  I look over at the door. I could still make this better. Before I can do or think anything else, Camden bursts through that door, holding a bottle of something high above his head.

  Now here’s Ari. “We made it!” she says. “Fifteen minutes to spare!”

  I check my phone. Whoa. It really is 11:4
6.

  Kendall grabs Ari and steers her into the kitchen. Pushes her toward Emerson, who swallows her in a hug.

  “Don’t worry,” says Camden, waving the bottle at me. “This is sparkling cider.”

  Sparkling cider is the least of my problems. Camden sees this on my face.

  “What? What is it?”

  I pull him toward the wall and tell him what happened. All of it, unedited. When I finish, Camden looks at me for a long time with incredible sadness. For whom, I’m not sure.

  Finally he says, “You did exactly what you were supposed to do. Not asking Kendall to do it, I mean. But making the call. As soon as possible.”

  “Tonight?” I ask.

  Camden nods without hesitation. “Tonight.”

  “Guys!” calls Ari as she and Kendall move toward us. “Emerson says we can go out on the roof!”

  There’s a minor stampede as the whole party pours out of the apartment. Into the hallway and up the stairs. Ari takes Camden’s hand and starts to pull him into the rush. Kendall stands there looking at me. I stand there looking at her.

  Then Ari and Camden circle back to us. Ari reaches out her other hand for Kendall’s. Kendall takes it. Then the three of them are moving away from me. I wait for Kendall to glance back.

  She doesn’t.

  I’m alone in the apartment now and there’s nobody to stop me from leaving. I know exactly where Eliza’s headed. Back to the club, back to her cosplay band friends. I could be there in ten minutes if I run.

  Eliza

  I KNOW MAX WILL COME AFTER ME, BECAUSE HE always does, does, does.

  Let me whisper a secret in your ear: I don’t want him to.

  I’m pissed as all holy hell at the guy but also, thank goddess, he seems to have moved on.

  We’re in a Dunkin’ Donuts because we couldn’t get back into the club and Dunkin’ Donuts is familiar and this one’s open twenty-four hours. My buzz from the party has officially worn off. Coffee’s the only thing for it now, along with a couple of chocolate Munchkins because, how else are you going to pretend you have giant alien eyeballs and try to make your companion crack up? But Jamie sits slumped with his head on his arms. He’s mad at himself because in one moment he chose me, and our friendship, over a girl he’s really into. It was a big moment, the kind you can’t ever undo.

  Oops for him.

  Jamie’s a good guy and a great friend, but he’s indecisive and terrified of getting serious with someone. He liked her, then he didn’t, then he didn’t like how much he liked her. No wonder they clicked: she’s indecisive, too. It’s painfully obvious to everyone that she’s in love with Max. Jamie will be okay, eventually. I’ll help him find some other girl to scare the shit out of him.

  Now here’s another text from my dad. That makes four phone calls and seven texts, but who’s counting? To hell with it. This one I’ll answer.

  Staying over with friends. Home tomorrow. I promise.

  (Maybe.)

  Part of me is glad they heard about Silas and freaked out. It’s proof that they care.

  Jamie raises his head, then plunks it back down facing the other way.

  Yeah, he’s terrible company but he’s here with me.

  Max, too, at least in spirit. I never not feel his support. And also, Camden’s. People who loved me, people I let down, people I swirled up tempests for.

  I hope I give them as much as I take. Because when I do reach whatever door comes next, I’ll need them all to push me through it.

  Kendall

  HOLY CRAP, IT’S COLD UP HERE.

  I watch Ari and Camden wrap their arms around each other.

  If Jamie hadn’t left, maybe he’d be doing the same thing and my teeth wouldn’t be chattering.

  I understand why he went after Eliza. Maybe he will actually come back and everything will be okay and perfect and at least a little warmer.

  Someone puts their hand on the top of my head. I spin around.

  But it’s Emerson.

  “You’re shivering,” he says.

  I step toward him and he gives me a hug, and his breath smells like cigarettes. I love my brother so much, even if he is a big idiot sometimes.

  “I won’t ask where your guy is,” he says.

  “Thanks. I won’t ask where your guy is.”

  “It’s going to be a great year, Kendall. You’re going to rock your last months of high school.”

  With all the drama, I haven’t had the chance to tell him about maybe not going back, but this isn’t the time.

  “Three minutes!” someone yells, and I hear a champagne cork being popped. Someone passes out plastic flutes.

  I look up at the stars. Only the brightest, brashest ones are out.

  Someone calls to Emerson to come get a glass and he moves away. I go to the railing of the rooftop deck, which faces west, toward the Hudson River. The lights of the city are scattered in patterns, random yet organized. From up here, they look like hope and magic and life itself. I think of Luna, and Erica the waitress, and the seven times we found a way to be truly kind to other people, and suddenly I don’t feel like the spectator anymore. This isn’t some giant photograph on a museum wall somewhere. I’m in this. I’m a part of it.

  The Biggest Thought Worm Ever arrives:

  Where I belong is here, because that’s where we all are, fighting our hard battles for the same things.

  The force of realizing this makes me tear up. Or maybe it’s the wind.

  Emerson hands me a champagne, then moves off. I silently toast anything (The new year? Erica’s dare? Myself?) and take a small sip and the bubbles warm me up.

  “Thirty seconds!” someone yells, maybe the same someone as before but maybe not.

  Ari and Camden have found a spot against the railing. Their foreheads are touching and they’re talking intensely about something good, I can tell. Maybe he’s telling her he loves her or maybe she’s telling him that whatever happens next, it’ll all work out.

  Suddenly, the crowd is counting down from ten.

  Nine.

  Emerson’s nowhere to be found.

  Eight.

  Jamie definitely did not come back.

  Seven.

  I check my phone. He didn’t text, either.

  Six.

  This is really not how I imagined tonight, at all.

  Five.

  How is Luna right now? What is she thinking? I picture a nice nurse holding her hand.

  Four.

  Maybe it’s time for me to go. I walk toward the door.

  Three.

  I reach for the handle, throw it open.

  Two.

  Christ, what a relief to step back into the stairwell, out of the wind.

  One.

  “Kendall?” asks someone from behind me. I turn around.

  Happy New Year!

  “Max?”

  He steps forward from a corner, right inside the door.

  “Hey,” he says, and in the mostly darkness I can see that he’s smiling.

  Before I know it, I’m throwing my arms around him. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

  He laughs. “Me, too.”

  We look at each other and his face is draped in shadows, so I imagine that mine must be, too. Outside, I can hear people blowing horns.

  Now it happens. My lips on his, and I’m surprised by how much I remember about them. There’s a boom of fireworks from somewhere out there in the cold, non-Max-kissing world.

  Max pushes me gently against the wall. It’s good to have this foundation suddenly, something to keep me upright. I look up above the door and see the red glowing exit sign, and wonder what it must look like to someone scrambling down the stairs in a fire.

  He pulls away. “Did you know we’d end up here?” he asks.

  “No,” I say truthfully. “But I think maybe I wished for it.”

  Max shakes his head. “Why is this always happening under the most fucked-up circumstances?”

  “I don’t mind
the fucked-up circumstances,” I say, taking his hand. It’s smooth, but cold, and the sheer size of it makes me like him even more. It’s like grabbing a lion’s paw.

  “Where is Jamie?”

  “Don’t know. Will you come with me onto the roof? It’s beautiful out there.”

  The fireworks have ended and now we just hear people singing, badly and drunkenly, from the other side of the door. It’s really important to me, suddenly, that we get on the other side of the door. Like, that’s where the new year and pretty much everything else starts.

  Max nods and I still have his hand in mine, so I push on the bar and the cold air rushes in, and then so does reality. We step onto the roof and the first person I see is Ari, her gaze locked on our joined-hands situation. She smiles with one side of her mouth.

  I lead Max to the other end of the deck, away from all the others.

  We take in the night. The lights, the shapes of the buildings, the hum of the city churning forward. Max reaches for my cheek and turns my face to his, and we kiss again. Slowly, gently, like we’re already old pros at it. Like we have all the time we could possibly want to do this.

  “What now?” asks Max.

  “You tell me,” I reply, passing the buck.

  “We’ll go home. I’ll start my job again. You’ll go to school. We’ll have the rest of winter and spring and summer.”

  When he says summer, I picture our town’s swimming lake, and the creek where I know Max and his friends like to hang out. I see the Ulster County Fair and mini-golf at the Scoop-N-Putt, where I always work from June to August. It unrolls like a tapestry in my head.

  Maybe because I’m thinking about a much warmer situation, I shiver uncontrollably. Max opens his coat and he doesn’t have to ask me twice, I step into him and he wraps his coat around me tight, tight, tight. I slide my arms around his waist and dig my hands into his back jeans pockets. This is really intimate and rather fresh, but I don’t care. I feel like this is a small concession to wanting to put my hands everywhere on all six feet plus of him.

  In one pocket, my hand hits something sharp with corners.

  “Is that an envelope in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

  Max snorts and nuzzles my neck. Oh my God. Do that again! Better yet, do it forever!

  “Ha-ha. Something Big E gave me earlier. I forgot I had it.”