I glanced around, caught admiring eyes watching but didn’t see Weston.
“Nice, Zoe,” someone said.
“Oooh, sweet,” a girl commented.
Heat flushed my cheeks. I reached for the black envelope hanging on the tail of colorful ribbons wrapped around the vase and opened it, tugging out the petite card.
I’m no angel, but I want you for prom.
Once again I swept the hall for Weston, my gaze connecting with his when I looked right. He was dressed in a tight black t-shirt and ash black jeans—had he looked that good this morning before class? The smile on his face tempted with mischief.
A crowd slowed and gathered, watching, and I heated from head to toe.
Weston slid through the bodies like a panther, students parting for him, eyes following his smooth movement until his body was flush with mine. He took my face in his hands and kissed me.
Swoons erupted. Whistles. Laughter. Cat calls. Shock and thrill launched my system into hunger.
“Way to go, Larsen!” somebody shouted.
Weston drew back, but kept his strong palms cradling my cheeks, his dark eyes pinned on mine. The crowds began to break up around us and move on. “Say yes,” he whispered.
“Yes.”
“I’ve been wanting to do this, but there’s been so much going on.”
“Yeah,” I nodded.
“I didn’t want you to think I was a slouch asking you this close to prom.
It’s not that I haven’t wanted to, you know?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Prom hadn’t been front and center in my thoughts until recently, either.
His mouth covered mine again in a possessive kiss. I slipped my arms around his neck. More whispers filled the air around us, mixing with a few snickers and whistles, but I was lost in the oblivion of him.
His lips grew more urgent, and soon my back was against the locker in a clattering bang. Stop. You hate PDAs. You hated watching Britt and Weston.
Stop now.
Reason forced me to pull back, leaving his lips parted, eyes closed, head extended for more. I blushed at the students walking past who eyed us, and something inside of me—maybe my past with Britt—caused embarrassment to trickle through me.
“What?” Weston asked eyes hooded.
“Not in public, k?”
His tight gaze didn’t leave mine even for a glance around the hall.
“Whatever you say. Your wish is my command.”
Matthias had said those same words to me. Coming from Weston’s love-struck lips, I should have been flattered. Why then, did an eerie feeling blanket me?
Albert?
I jerked left. Right.
“What’s wrong?” Weston asked.
A lump of fear lodged in my throat. Why? Albert wasn’t here. Neither of us was inviting him. My head was a jumble of guilt. Was I being disloyal to Matthias?
“Is something wrong?” Weston drew me against him, and the solidness of his body comforted me a little.
I shook my head and returned his tight embrace. Something white flashed in my peripheral vision. I had to stop psyching myself out. I was safe with Weston. Matthias had told me I had my life to live. That’s what I was doing.
The autism conference in Boston fell on the same weekend as prom.
As the weekend drew near, Mom grew anxious. I caught her packing Abria’s suitcase, talking to herself as she folded each piece of Abria’s wardrobe and set it neatly inside the small, ladybug travel case. Abria then proceeded to yank each article of clothing out, trying to dress herself.
Mom was too lost in her thoughts to notice or stop my sister. I stifled a chuckle watching the two of them: pants in, pants out. Shirt in, shirt out.
“Um, Mom?” I came to her aid by scooping Abria into my arms and handing Mom the sweatshirt Abria had tried to heist.
Mom smiled absently, took the shirt and refolded it, mumbling something under her breath as she placed the clothing into the suitcase.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Hm? Oh, fine. Just making sure I don’t forget anything.”
“Looks like you’ve got Abria taken care of.” I squeezed Abria and kissed her cheek. She squirmed for freedom, arching away from my embrace but I held firm.
“All packed.” Dad popped his head in the door. He’d warmed up to the idea of attending the conference, I heard the two of them discussing it over breakfast more than once since they’d decided to go.
“Oh, good.” Mom nodded. “Good.”
“You okay?” Dad stepped into the door, his questioning gaze shifting from Mom to me, as if I had the answer to Mom’s distraction.
I shrugged.
“Let me take Abria and get her some lunch.” Dad held out his arms for my sister, and I passed her to him.
Mom stood staring at the contents of Abria’s suitcase, dazed. I nodded at Dad in approval.
“You want something to eat, Deb?” he asked from the doorway.
“Hmm? No. Thanks.”
Dad left.
“You sure everything is cool?” I touched Mom’s arm and she looked at me.
“It’s hard…” Her eyes filled with tears.
“Mom? What?” I hugged her.
“Leaving.” She sniffed against my shoulder. “I’ll miss you. And, I can’t believe I’m going to miss your prom.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, easing back. “Don’t.”
She blinked away the remaining tears and sighed. “It’s your last prom, Zoe. I wanted to be here for you. Help you get ready, see you walk down the front stairs. All that.”
“I’ll be fine. Everything is going to be fine. Of course I want you here, too. But this conference is important.”
She nodded, eyeing Abria’s open suitcase filled with clothes. “It is, I know. I just don’t want you thinking it’s more important than you and Luke.”
“We don’t. It’s an issue of timing, that’s all.” I patted her shoulder. “You need to do this. I know you’re excited about meeting with the specialists and stuff. That’s going to be exciting. I can’t wait to see what they say.”
“Me too.” She smiled at me, and gave me another hug. “How about I treat you to the dress?”
“Really? I’d love that.”
When the three of them finally left, and the door closed behind them, silence echoed through the rooms of the house. A few months ago, I would have seen the opportunity to be alone as an open invite to host a party or three. But the events of the last few months had bound my family in a deep connection of trust and respect. Not five minutes passed and I missed hearing Abria run through the halls, Mom inquiring about my day at school, seeing the back of Dad’s head as he sat on the couch unwinding in front of the TV.
I half expected Luke to rejoice at Mom and Dad’s absence, but he hadn’t skipped school in weeks, was regularly talking to Krissy on the phone and had actually said he wanted to hang with me while they were gone.
I wondered when we’d actually hang out, because whenever I saw Luke, he was either on his cell talking to or texting Krissy. I tried asking him what was going on with her, how she was doing and what the status was with her parents and he told me she was happy at her aunt’s house but missed her life here. She also had conflicting feelings about her parents—missing her mother one day and resenting her the next.
There was a brief news report in the paper that Chase had read and shared with me: Krissy’s parents were both in jail for child abuse—her father for sexual abuse, her mother as an accomplice—and Krissy was living with a
‘family member’ who had been given temporary custody by the court. It didn’t look like Krissy’s dad was going to be free any time in this century.
I was relieved to hear that—for Krissy’s sake.
“Hey, Z,” Luke called from upstairs. “Can Krissy spend the night here tomorrow night? That way her aunt doesn’t have to stick around down here in Utah County waiting for prom to end and stuff.”
“F
ine with me,” I said, searching the refrigerator for what Luke and I would eat for dinner.
“Cool.” Luke appeared. His black eye had finally faded. “Her aunt wants to talk to you.”
“Me?”
He nodded, held out his cell phone. His thumb covered the mouthpiece. “Be cool about it, k?”
I took the phone. Connie, Krissy’s aunt, was very anxious for her niece to participate in as many ‘normal’ activities as possible. She also acknowledged Krissy’s admiration for me and our family, and her budding feelings for Luke.
She wanted to know the prom day itinerary and make sure Krissy would be sleeping in my room with me. I reassured her that I’d make sure Krissy was in her sleeping bag, next to my bed.
I plopped Luke’s cell phone back in the palm of his hand. “Done.”
Luke’s eyes brightened. “Cool. We’re going to prom. Who’d have thought, right?”
I mirrored his easy grin. “You might even like it, bud.”
“Oh, I’m gonna like it.”
The smile on Luke’s face reminded me that, for most guys, prom equaled sex. “You and Krissy?” I asked carefully, hoping he’d get my implication.
His face twisted. “No way. She’s… no way, Z. I wouldn’t expect that from her. She’s way too… I dunno… fragile at this point.”
I patted his shoulder, admiring his maturity. “Can’t wait to see you in a tux,” I teased.
Luke’s brows waggled. “Neither can Krissy, apparently.”
Krissy’s part in Luke’s venturing down the drugless path was undeniable.
He’d connected with her and his interest in her helped take his mind off using.
His face lit when he talked about her—which wasn’t often—but when he did, his tone softened and his countenance was as cheery as a kid building sand castles.
I’m not sure when I realized that, as a family, we’d actually had a few weeks of peace, but at that moment, seeing the joy on Luke’s face, it hit me that Albert hadn’t been around. I wasn’t going to spend even a millisecond wondering where he was and why he’d left me alone. Maybe his forces really had moved camp to Weston’s and were working that angle now.
Weston’s relationship with his mother remained tenuous. He gave me regular updates on the fights—all of which ended with him regretting participating. But he stayed in control, determined not to let Brady influence him into losing it. The result was that he forced his mom to talk through stuff.
I swear he told me just to get a kiss out of me.
I hadn’t seen much of Matthias. Had he heard me silently grumbling about things having to change between Weston and me? I reminded myself that he’d assured me that I had my life to live. Maybe his absence was due to the fact that Abria’s dangerous behaviors had lessened over time and we, as a family, were more adept at circumventing danger.
A pang of sadness echoed through my heart. Was my love for Matthias destined to drift off in memory like a cloud evaporating in the sky? As life went on, where was his place in it?
The reality was that we lived in different spheres and, as he’d told me so many times before: I had to live.
As he had to live. Without me.
“You okay?” Luke asked, interrupting my train of thought.
“Yeah.” I couldn’t allow myself to get carried away with impossible thoughts of Matthias. He loved me. I loved him. We were going to be together someday. Mine was the challenge of keeping perspective in the interim. “So, prom. Has Krissy said anything about a dress?”
“Just that the color is blue.”
“Like your eyes,” I grinned. His cheeks flushed.
“That’s what she said.” His tone carried amazement that I would know such things.
“You want me to go look at tuxes with you?”
He dipped his head. “I got one.”
“Yeah? Cool. I’m proud of you. You’re gonna look awesome.”
He shifted, and with a flick of his head, his shaggy hair swung out of his blue eyes. “What about you?”
“I need to go find something fast. I bet there’s nothing left anywhere.
You want to come with me?”
Luke’s brows arched. “Me? Uh, I’m not very good at picking out girl’s clothes.”
I hooked my arm in his. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Besides, I need your car.”
y y y
All I needed was my iPod, a dock and some speakers booming cool tunes and my adventure trying on prom dresses could have felt ripped right out of a movie, complete with Luke shaking his head at most of my choices.
He finally nodded at a pale lavender dress in a flowing chiffon fabric.
The dress was long, with poofy capped sleeves and a wide, velvet black tie just under the breast that tied in a huge bow in the back.
“That be the one,” he said with a nod.
The soft petunia shade accentuated my green eyes and dark hair. “You have taste, I’ll give you that,” I said, turning in front of the three-way mirror.
I loved the way the fabric floated with my every move. The style was kind of retro, and the design flattered my small build. I figured my black heels would finish the look nicely.
“Can’t wait to see Weston in a purple tux,” Luke joked after I’d paid for the dress. We walked out of the formal dress shop and into the cold afternoon.
Patches of blue sky tried to peek out from behind a broken wall of thick clouds.
“He’d look hot in purple,” I played back, “but I want him in black. I love a guy in a black tuxedo.”
Luke jangled his car keys in his hand as we approached the blue Samurai. “That’s what Krissy said.”
“So, yours is black?” I opened the passenger-side door.
Luke nodded. We both slid inside the car and shut the doors. Luke inserted the key and revved the engine, bringing the car to life with a rattling growl. His eyes met mine. “What about Matthias?”
Was I imagining the heaviness suddenly in the air? Luke’s expression was childlike curiosity. “He won’t be there,” I joked.
Luke didn’t laugh. He cared about Matthias; the soberness that flashed on his face was clear as a baby’s conscience.
“I don’t know what to say except that he wants me to live my life.”
We sat in the idling car outside the formal dress shop. “That must be hard,” he said. “At the same time, you should listen to him. Be realistic, Z.”
When had Luke gotten so wise? I smiled, patted his shoulder. I cared for Weston. My feelings were definitely gravitating toward love. But the love residing inside my deep reservoir, the love I held for that one special soul was for Matthias. I had to come to terms with loving both of them.
Luke drove. Silence accompanied us. For the first time, I wished he’d put on one of his loud, crass bands.
My cell phone vibrated and I retrieved it. Weston.
“Hey.”
“Hey. So, the day date. Are we doing this with Luke and Krissy or going solo?”
Krissy’s aunt had given her permission to attend the prom if she and Luke doubled with Weston and me. “We’re doubling.” I gave Weston Luke’s phone number so they could plan together.
“You okay?” Weston asked.
“Yeah, of course.” I didn’t like that he might feel insecure about how I felt about him. He deserved my full attention, heart and soul. “I found a dress.”
“Cool. Can’t wait to see you in it.”
“Aw, that’s sweet. And I have a feeling you’re going to look hot in that black tux.”
“Anything to get you worked up.”
“A black tux is a good place to start,” I said.
“Start, finish and everything in between,” Weston’s voice took a warm plunge. “I better call Luke.”
“You better,” I laughed. “See ya.”
“I love you,” he said.
I swallowed. “Love you.”
Weston held the line for an extra long second before hanging up. A swift tranquility filled my
conscience for having admitted my feelings to him, and a smile lingered on my lips.
Luke’s cell phone blared hard rock. He dug for it in the front pocket of his jeans and flipped it open, pressing it to his ear.
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