by Tonya Hurley
“You came through for all of us, Usher,” Prue said. “Guess you’re not a choker after all.”
24
Rest in Popularity
And I thank you for bringing me here For showing me home For singing these tears Finally I’ve found that I belong here.
—Martin L. Gore
Where do I end and you begin?
We are driven by our wants, needs, wishes, and dreams. When they disappear, so do we. Our success or failure in Life is measured both by what we leave behind and what we carry with us. Charlotte had been in pain for quite some time, affl icted by the only thing more powerful than Death: Love. She learned, with some help, to let go of her life and her love, to allow herself an ending, and with that, for the fi rst time, she held onto herself.
Damen slowly came to with absolutely no memory of what had just transpired.
“I dreamt I was dying,” he said to Scarlet, who’d been gently stroking his face.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “You’ve got so much to live for…. We both do.” They dusted off and headed out toward the ballroom.
Prue’s acceptance of Charlotte had a calming, almost narcotic effect, on everything and everyone. The Dead kids, pleased at Prue and Charlotte’s truce, vanished. The Living kids regained consciousness and left the ride, not sure if they had been dreaming or drugged.
“That was the best haunted house ever!” a guy yelled.
The guy was right. It was the best haunted house ever.
“The art department certainly outdid themselves this year, didn’t they?” Principal Styx said to scattered applause as he made his way over to the center of the stage. “Well, all that excitement is a tough act to follow, so why don’t we just announce the king and queen of Hawthorne High School’s Fall Ball,” he announced from the microphone.
Everyone gathered at the front of the stage, except for Petula, who’d secretly entered during all of the commotion, standing incognito at the back of the ballroom.
“And this year’s king and queen are…,” he said, opening the ballot in front of the whole student body. “Damen Dylan and… Scarlet Kensington!”
Damen and Scarlet heard their names as they were leaving the haunted house and could barely believe it, their minds were so far away.
“Must have been an amazing hook-up, man,” Max said as Damen tucked his shirt in and Scarlet straightened her dress. “I’ve never seen a building rock like that!”
Damen turned to Max and smacked him upside his head, and the entire football team body-surfed Damen up to the stage.
Scarlet walked up the steps, looking desperately for Charlotte and suddenly saw her backstage. Scarlet ran over, and the two just stood there as they looked at one another. Scarlet immediately put her hands up, fully ready and willing to give herself over this one last time. But Charlotte didn’t clasp Scarlet’s hands as she always did. She gave Scarlet a big hug instead.
“What are you doing?” Scarlet asked.
“I’m making my choice,” Charlotte said. “I can’t live through you anymore.”
As the red curtain was pulled back, Scarlet and Charlotte walked out together, arm in arm.
“I never understood why you tried so hard to fit in, when you were obviously meant to stand out,” Scarlet said as Charlotte nudged her out front and closer to Damen. “But what about ‘being seen,’ your resolution? You gave me your kiss. You should take the crown,” Scarlet said in a last-ditch effort to give the moment to Charlotte.
“It wasn’t my kiss to give,” Charlotte said as she gently pushed Scarlet into her rightful place, next to Damen.
Just as Scarlet was about to be crowned, Petula popped up with a huge airbrush turbo tanner. She lifted the spray gun and started shooting spray-on tan toward Scarlet.
“Turbo Tan!” the Wendys cheered in unison.
“Fuel-injected for airbrush emergencies,” Petula said as she aimed the liquid tanner at Scarlet with a vengeance.
Prue, who had just reentered the ballroom, saw what Petula was planning and grabbed her spraying arm, scaring the living Hell out of her. As she did, Petula’s spray missed Scarlet and hit Charlotte instead. The tanning mist settled on her, rendering her visible to the whole school. There was dead silence from the audience.
“Hey, that’s the girl who died in school!” some guy yelled from the back of the room.
Petula screamed so intensely, every hair on her body, even the bleached ones over her lip, stood straight up. A Hawthorne High rent-a-cop noticed the erratic behavior and attempted to apprehend her. To his surprise, she jumped in his arms as soon as she saw him.
“I see uncool people!” she kept repeating as the guard escorted her out. As usual, the yearbook photographers were waiting. But this time, her runway moment became a “perp walk.” The flashbulbs popped, capturing not her portrait but her mug shot.
A nervous murmur spread through the crowd and some people slowly began to back away from the stage toward the exit.
“Is this part of the haunted house?” a girl yelled from in front of the stage.
“Wait, people!” Scarlet said. “She’s the one who pulled this whole dance off.”
Everyone in the room stopped and looked at Charlotte, confused.
“Don’t be afraid. It’s all because of her…,” Scarlet said. “… All of it.”
Scarlet faced Damen and confessed what had been going on all along.
“Remember when you said I acted like two different people? Well… I was.” Scarlet said. “I totally understand if you never want to speak to me again.”
Damen stared blankly at Scarlet for a moment, turned away, and then walked silently over to Charlotte. She tilted her head down, not knowing what to expect. He stood there for what seemed forever, just looking at her. Then, gently, Damen moved his hand toward her chin, as if to lift it. Charlotte raised her head slowly until her eyes met his.
“I remember you,” he said, reaching down for Charlotte’s hand and leading her to the center of the stage.
“This really belongs to you…,” Scarlet said, taking off the crown, brushing Charlotte’s hair out of her face and placing it gently on her head.
“You don’t have to share this with me,” Charlotte said.
“I’m not sharing it with you. It’s yours,” Scarlet said as the crown floated into position.
“That’s right,” Damen said sternly, “no more sharing!”
Scarlet and Charlotte both tensed up at his harsh tone.
“Unless it’s with me,” he said, eyeing Scarlet and breaking out into a big grin.
“Thanks for all your ‘help,’ ” Damen said to Charlotte as he leaned over and tenderly kissed her cheek. His lips were soft and kind. She closed her eyes and relished every second. It was more than she ever imagined it would be. Much more.
“You’re right, he’s not like all the others,” Prue said as Charlotte ascended above the crowd, shining like a thousand Glo-sticks at a sold-out concert. Her dress transformed into her smoky-gray chiffon dream dress, the one from her screen saver, as she rose up. She looked beautiful.
A round of applause began and became louder and louder as fear and disbelief were replaced by total admiration.
The Dead kids, who were watching the coronation also, started to become visible again, only this time they were wearing graduation caps and gowns. They were all restored, down to CoCo’s black, dripping “CC” Chanel necklace, which had morphed into a shiny new gold one.
“She’s a resolutionary!” Piccolo Pam trumpeted as she genuinely celebrated Charlotte’s moment in the spotlight, the flute sound suddenly gone from her voice.
DJ danced over to the turntables and began spinning a set of crowd-pleasers; Suzy threw her arms up in time to the beat, ecstatic to see her skin was suddenly scar-free.
“Hey, keep it down!” Mike yelled to DJ’s and Suzy’s surprise, finally cured of the aural fixation that had plagued him. With everyone’s attention returned to Charlotte, Silent Violet remained
silent no longer. She yelled for Charlotte and then quickly grabbed her own throat, looking stunned by the fact that she was able to say something.
“I will never gossip again…,” Violet said.
Pam and the others were in awe as they finally began to comprehend that Charlotte’s journey, the good and the bad of it, was helping them be seen for who they were.
Deadhead Jerry was coyly summoned to dance by a popular Living girl. Now, with his mind totally clear, a new confidence filled him.
“You know what they say, ‘once you go dead, you never wanna leave yo’ bed,’ ” Jerry whispered to Mike as he headed out on the dance floor.
“Pray for us, Charlotte!” Wendy Thomas shouted from the audience, crossing herself and trying to capitalize on the “miracle” occurring before her.
“Just because she’s dead doesn’t mean she’s a saint—just like because you’re a cheerleader doesn’t mean you’re a slut,” Wendy Anderson snapped.
They both paused, realizing all Hawthorne cheerleaders were indeed sluts.
“Yes, pray for us, Charlotte!” Wendy Anderson pleaded.
“So this is what it’s like to be popular,” Charlotte said, levitating slightly over the stage.
Everyone burst out into applause as she smiled.
“Way to go, ghostgirl,” Prue yelled to her new friend.
“Hey, I got a death name!” Charlotte beamed.
“And I got a dance,” Prue said, slightly rolling her eyes while dancing. “Guess it turns out you were The One after all.”
“Yeah, but I never would have figured it out without you guys.” Charlotte smiled. “Or you,” she said, turning to Scarlet.
“Way to take a tan for the team,” Scarlet said, admiring Charlotte’s sunkissed glow. “But I don’t understand how some stupid tanner, of all things, made you able to be seen?” Scarlet asked.
“It didn’t,” Charlotte replied.
“What?” Scarlet asked, confused.
“It was the fact that I was ready to be seen, for who I really am,” Charlotte replied as she put her arms around Scarlet.
Scarlet knew this was their goodbye, and a tear fell from her eye, landing on Charlotte’s cheek.
“If I’m tan, you’re dancing,” Charlotte said, pushing Scarlet out on the dance floor with Damen. They stood close and began to sway to the music, awkwardly at first, and then like old pros.
Charlotte felt a sense of calm, like all was right with the world. A sense that her work was done and it was time to move on. Even though it was breaking her heart that she had to leave Scarlet, she couldn’t help but smile as she looked at everyone dancing together. She was left out again, just like in Physics Lab, but it wasn’t important to her anymore.
Before she could feel too sorry for herself, a ridiculously hot guy in a suit, looking like he came fresh from his own funeral, appeared next to Charlotte. He was wearing his toe tag around his wrist, just as Charlotte had when she died.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Uh, I’m not really sure,” he answered. “But… would you like to dance?”
“Yes, I would,” she replied, accepting his invitation.
As they waltzed, Charlotte reassured him that he was okay and that she would explain everything in due time, but for right now, all she wanted to do was dance.
“Look at that, she’s already moved on,” Damen said while glancing over at Charlotte.
“Aw, are you jealous?” Scarlet asked as Damen pulled her closer.
Damen chuckled and planted a sweet little kiss on Scarlet’s cheek.
Cutting in on Charlotte’s last dance, Mr. Brain showed up, holding a graduation cap. Charlotte knew immediately that it was time for her, for all of them, to go.
“You’ll be needing this now,” he said as he took her crown off and replaced it with the cap. “Thanks to you, we’ll all be needing one.”
Charlotte looked admiringly at Mr. Brain and noticed his beautiful head of white hair, not a brain ridge or skin flap visible.
“Let’s bring this to the ‘other side,’ shall we?” he said sweetly, flipping the tassel over with a huge smile on his face. “Congratulations, Charlotte Usher.”
Instantaneously, one of the spotlights rigged on the dance floor started shining so brightly that it was blinding. It was as if a star from the sky had come through the window and was now burning right there inside the ballroom. This was no projector light. Prue grabbed Pam’s hand and they instinctively faced it in anticipation, together. All of the Dead kids joined them in a line, holding hands.
“I can’t see her anymore.”
Damen held Scarlet tightly as she watched her best friend starting to disappear.
“Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened,” Damen assured her.
“Dr. Seuss,” Scarlet said, offering up a grateful smile.
While Damen was comforting Scarlet, Charlotte ran over to join Piccolo Pam.
“Ready to go?” Pam asked.
“Ready, Piccolo Pam,” Charlotte said as they embraced.
“It’s just Pam again,” she said with gratitude.
With Brain guiding them, one by one they walked toward the light, in order of their arrival to Dead Ed. Prue first. Charlotte last. When her turn came, she looked back, satisfied, took off her cap, threw it into the air, and slowly vanished into the welcoming glow.
She was gone.
As Scarlet looked up, she saw the shadow of Charlotte’s lone cap flying up to the ceiling. This was a sign from Charlotte, and she immediately knew it meant that she was in a better place. They both were.
Epilogue
There Is a Light
Dreams always come true. It might not be in your lifetime, but they’ll happen….
—gg
We all like to think the world ends when we do.
The truth is our acquaintances, our friends, and our loved ones all live on, and through them, so do we. It’s not about what you had, but what you gave. It’s not about how you looked, but how you lived. And it’s not just about being remembered. It’s about giving people a good reason to remember you.
An early snow fell gently outside of the stained glass windows, blanketing everything from the cold, hard ground to the naked trees in a sea of white. It was hard to believe that a whole season had passed since that Fateful night. It seemed like yesterday that the very same ballroom that hosted the crowning of a Hawthorne legend was now the hottest hangout in town.
Like a game of telephone, the details of what happened that night changed and changed as the days and weeks flew, each person adding a little to the tale, until the story of Charlotte Usher had passed into legend.
The once-decaying Manor was now renovated and restored, and the ballroom where it all went down was a cool café filled with jewel-toned crushed-velvet couches, large dramatic paintings and provocative black-and-white photographs, floor-to-ceiling drapes, elaborate chandeliers, and dark wooden chairs, tables, and booths.
The Wendys were at their very own mustard-toned velvet booth, dressed in Gothic chic.
“This place is the tits,” Wendy Anderson said as she scanned the room to see “who” was there.
“Yeah, I’m glad they used the money they raised from the dance to fix up it up,” Wendy Anderson said as she noticed Petula bussing a nearby table. “Isn’t that right, Petula?”
“How much more community service do you have to do anyway?” Wendy Thomas inquired as they both laughed at Petula’s pathetic-ness.
“Yeah, how much longer will you be rockin’ Rubbermaid?” Wendy Thomas asked.
“Very funny,” Petula said, grabbing her plastic tray.
“Of course it is—we said it,” Wendy Anderson snipped, throwing Petula’s words back at her.
In the middle of the room, Scarlet—wearing a tight black sweater over a teal blouse, sleek black work pants, red lipstick, black nail polish, and a vintage apron made from an old ’50s curtain—whipped up lattés, cappuccinos, esp
ressos, and an assortment of exotic teas from behind a state-of-the-art coffee bar.
There was a chalkboard behind the bar with all the specials written on it, as well as an advert for a special Saturday night screening of Delicatessen. Sam Wolfe sat down at the counter, reading the Wall Street Journal and looking completely normal, showing no trace of any disabilities or challenges at all.
“Sam?” Scarlet said skeptically.
As Sam was putting the paper down, Bradley Grayson, his nemesis from the locker room, sauntered by, prompting Sam to immediately act slow and subservient again, offering to get the guy a coffee.
“Make it a hazelnut half-caf with fat-free cream and two Splenda, Wolf-Boy,” the guy commanded rudely.
“Wait… so you just act retarded?” Scarlet asked.
“Survival of the fitting in,” Sam replied with a smirk on his face as he stirred the jock’s coffee.
Scarlet threw her dishtowel at him and shook her head in disgust, all the while admiring Sam’s ingenuity. As Sam brought the piping hot concoction to the jock’s table, the cup was inexplicably forced right out of his hand, falling right into the guy’s crotch. The jock screamed in pain and pulled off his pants, running out of the café in embarrassment.
“Cup check!” Sam mouthed involuntarily like a ventriloquist dummy.
“You’re dead,” the jock yelled back to Sam, who had no idea what had just come over him.
“No, I am,” a voice whispered in Scarlet’s ear with a laugh.
Scarlet knew instinctively just who the culprit was and smiled just as Damen walked in the door.
“What’s so funny?” Damen asked.
“Nothing,” Scarlet said, leaping over the counter and into his arms. As she held him tight, she looked above the café doorway at the inscription she had painted like a tattoo with vibrant roses encasing skulls and an angel wing on each side, in memory of Charlotte.
friends are like stars. you don’t always see them, but you know they’re there.
“I missed you,” she said… to both of them.
Scarlet looked Damen in the eyes and gave him a kiss to die for.
