Instructions for Dancing

by Nicola Yoon

  He pulls me into his arms and hushes me, the way he used to when I was small.

  “Don’t hush me,” I say, jerking away from him. “What I want is for you to explain to me why people make promises to each other. Why bother to love people if they’re just going to die and leave you all alone? You believe in God. Tell me why He would make the world like this. Tell me why He’s so cruel.”

  I look at him and wait for him to give me some kind of answer because he’s my dad and he’s supposed to have the answers. He always used to.

  He looks out into the blue-dark night, and it’s a long time before he says anything.

  Finally, his eyes travel over my face. “You’re getting so big. I couldn’t have imagined you would get this big.” He looks out over the courtyard. “Here’s what I think. If you get very, very lucky in this life, then you get to love another person so hard and so completely that when you lose them, it rips you apart. I think the pain is the proof of a life well lived and loved.”

  “That’s a shitty answer,” I tell him.

  “Yes,” he says. “It is.”

  I’m crying hard now, inconsolable. All I see is X’s face on the funeral program.

  In loving memory: Xavier Darius Woods.

  In loving memory.

  In memory.

  “It’s not worth it,” I say.

  Why do I have to love him? How am I supposed to live without him?

  “I can’t answer your questions, Evie. I don’t know why we lose the people we love and how we’re expected to go on after we lose them. But I know that to love is human. We can’t help ourselves. The philosopher-poets say love is the answer, but it’s more than that. Love is the question and the answer and the reason to ask in the first place. It’s everything. All of it.”

  For a long moment, I watch the lights across the courtyard turn on and off and then on again. I wonder what’s happening in each of the apartments. Who have they lost? Who are they about to lose? What have they survived?

  Someone laughs high and loud. It sounds like something breaking. A small wind blows, and there’s no warmth left in the air now. My tears dry on my face.

  “Dad, I don’t think I can go to your wedding after all.”

  I feel how much I’ve hurt him, and then I feel his struggle to accept what I’ve said.

  “All right,” he says.

  “I don’t know if I’m ever going to forgive you.”

  He drops his head into his hand. “It’s all right, my sweetheart,” he says.

  Somehow the way he says it makes me feel like maybe I’m the one who needs forgiveness.

  “It’s all right,” he says again.

  And it’s not all right, not really. But it’s nice of him to say so.

  CHAPTER 53

  The Light and the Dark

  WHEN I IMAGINE X dead, I don’t see darkness. In darkness there’s still hope. Some hidden thing in the places you can’t see. Grief to me feels like an endless landscape of white light. No secrets. And no surprises either.

  You can see clearly all you have lost.

  Everything that’s no longer there.

  CHAPTER 54

  One Million, Eight Hundred and Fourteen Thousand and Four Hundred Seconds

  SOMETIMES THE ONLY thing to say about a period of time is that it’s passing and that you’re surviving it.

  Graduation festivities kick into high gear. The yearbook comes out, and everyone, even the most jaded and cynical kids, turns nostalgic and earnest. We reminisce, sign each other’s books and make promises we really want to keep.

  Cassidy’s parents go away to Europe, so she throws some kind of party almost every night. I go to all of them.

  At my request, we start going back to Surf City Waffle. I have too many memories of X by the pool at Cassidy’s house to want to go there anymore.

  Every Sunday, I wonder if this is the Sunday when Sophie and Cassidy will break up. Things between them have been getting slowly worse. They smile less and touch less and bicker more.

  Martin notices, but we don’t talk to each other about it. What’s there to say? Every Sunday they don’t break up feels like a gift, like a little extra time the four of us get to share.

  But finally, Break-Up Sunday arrives. They sit next to each other in our booth at Surf City Waffle but don’t touch at all. It happens just the way I saw in my vision. It’s like having a movie-length déjà vu.

  After Cassidy leaves, Sophie cries for an hour. She tells us that things have been bad between them for a while. She says it’s like Cassidy had gotten bored with her. She did careless things, like forget when they had a date. Whenever Sophie complained, Cassidy told her she was too sensitive.

  Martin and I hug her and let her cry until she stops. She tells us she doesn’t think she wants to go on the road trip. I’m disappointed all over again, but then I let it go.

  Later, after I get home, I call Cassidy and listen to her side of the story. Surprisingly, it’s kind of the same. She says she thinks maybe she isn’t a good girlfriend for anyone yet.

  The next Sunday, Martin and I go to Surf City Waffle alone, but it’s just too sad. We leave and go back to my house. I make us peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. We eat outside on the patio.

  Mom starts seeing Dr. Bob twice a week instead of just once. I want to tell her not to put herself out there again. Doesn’t she remember how she felt after Dad left? Doesn’t she remember taking down their wedding photos? Right after he moved out, we tried living in our house for a few months. I’d catch her staring at the places Dad’s stuff used to be. One toothbrush next to the sink instead of two. Empty spaces on the bookshelf, like missing teeth. The house became a museum of all the places love used to be. A few months later, she agreed to sell the house and we moved.

  * * *

  ——

  It’s been twenty-one days since I found out that the boy I love is going to die. I want to say that every passing day is better than the one before, but it’s not true.

  There are places my mind refuses to go. Exactly when does he die, and how? I remember my vision of Archibald and Maggie standing in an open field, snowflakes drifting in the air around them, watching a coffin being lowered into the ground. How will they survive the death of their grandson? How will his parents? Kevin and Jamal and all his other friends? Will he know it’s going to happen? Will he suffer? What will his last thought be?

  Sometimes I want to call him and tell him the truth. But telling him would be cruel. Just because I’m burdened with this awful knowing doesn’t mean he should be. I remember the round of Tipsy Philosophicals we played at our first bonfire, the one where we first kissed. I asked everyone if they’d want to know when and where we were going to die. X said no. He said it would take the fun out of everything. I said yes, that it was always good to be prepared.

  Sometimes I want to call him and tell him the other truth, which is that I love him and I always will. But telling him that would also be cruel.

  What would I say?

  I love you, but you’re going to die, so I can’t love you?

  I can’t because I’m scared I won’t survive the pain? Or, that’s not right. I’m not scared I won’t survive the pain. I’m scared the pain will never end and I’ll have to live with it forever.

  The problem with broken hearts isn’t that they kill you. It’s that they don’t.

  CHAPTER 55

  The Fish and the Water

  I’VE BEEN IN my room and in bed with the lights off for basically the entire weekend when Mom knocks on my door.

  “Come bake with me,” she says. “I’m making bread pudding.” She’s wearing her Kiss the Cook apron.

  “I’m not really in the mood,” I say, burying myself even farther under the blanket.

  “Well, you’re doing it anyway,” she says, pulling my blanket
off. I know from her tone that I don’t have a choice.

  As soon as I get downstairs, she points to the recipe and hands me a stack of measuring cups and spoons. “You do the dry ingredients.”

  I get the sugar and cinnamon from the pantry.

  She waits until I’m busy cubing bread to say what she wants to say: “I want you to tell me what happened with you and X.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I say. I grab another slice of bread and keep on cubing.

  We’re back to communicating in sighs. Hers now is Frustrated. “I’m your mother, and I know something happened. I don’t understand why you won’t talk to me.”

  All I want to do is go back to bed and pretend the world doesn’t exist. “You first,” I say.

  She’s been whisking eggs, but now she stops to look at me. “Me first what?”

  “You want me to talk to you, but you never talk to me.” I measure out the sugar and pour it into a bowl. “How many times have I tried to get you to talk to me about Dad?”

  “This again?” she says, and restarts her whisking. “The business between me and your father is between me and your father.”

  I don’t mean to cry, but tears are suddenly welling behind my eyes and in my throat, like they’ve always been there waiting. “You’re not the only one Dad left. He left me and Dani too.” I drop the measuring cup onto the counter. “He left us too.”

  The air between us is shocked. She looks stunned and then devastated. Her hand flutters to her hair and then to the whisk and back to her hair again. “Sweetheart,” she says. She pushes the bowl away and pulls me into her arms. “Don’t cry, sweetheart, don’t cry.”

  I pull away from her. “Why does everyone keep telling me not to cry when there’s plenty of things to cry about? Why do you and Dani act like everything is fine?”

  She looks down at the counter, presses her fingers into it. “How do you want me to act?”

  “I want you to stop pretending that everything isn’t terrible now. Why aren’t you angry with him? Why won’t you talk about it?”

  She sighs again, but this one isn’t frustrated or angry. It’s a release. “You want to know why I won’t talk about it?”

  I nod.

  “Because mothers take care of their children, not the other way around. I wipe your tears. You’re not supposed to wipe mine.”

  She looks at me and her eyes are stark and filled with tears she won’t let fall.

  “I was devastated when your father told me what he was doing. I felt like someone reached into my chest and—” She stops herself and sucks in a breath. “Anyway. You think I wasn’t angry with your father? I was angry. Sometimes I’m still angry.” Her voice is soft, but the pain in it is loud, louder than it’s ever been. “I didn’t talk to you because I was trying to protect you. You and your father were so sweet together. I didn’t want this thing to change the way you felt about him.”

  How have I managed to be so wrong?

  I thought she wasn’t feeling enough. It turns out she was feeling everything.

  It turns out she was trying to protect me from all the everything she was feeling.

  She looks at me again, and now she does let her tears fall. “Your father isn’t the one who wanted the divorce. After he told me about Shirley, he said he wanted to stay together and go to counseling and try to work things out. I was the one who said no.”

  I’m so shocked my mouth actually drops open. All this time I thought Dad left us, but it was Mom. Mom did the leaving.

  “But why?” I ask. “You loved him. You love him still.”

  “Yes, but I could see he loved her in a way he didn’t love me anymore. I wasn’t going to sit there being someone’s runner-up.”

  I stare at her for a long time. I stare until I’m not just looking at her, I’m actually seeing her. I see my mom, strong and stoic and capable. I see my mom, soft, brave and vulnerable. Everyone says there’s a moment in your life when your parent becomes more than just a parent and becomes a real person. They never said how scary that moment would be. And wonderful too.

  “Can I ask you one more thing?” I say.

  “Lord have mercy, please let this be the last of it,” she says, but she’s smiling.

  “It’s about Dr. Bob. After everything with Dad, how are you okay with dating again?”

  She pulls the bowl of eggs back toward her and picks up the whisk. “Well, first of all, I like Dr. Bob. I like him a lot and he likes me a lot. But besides that, what else am I going to do? I can’t just cut myself off from love. I’m not made that way.”

  “But look what happened with Dad. Look how it ended.”

  “You think because your father and I didn’t last, our love was any less real? Once upon a time, your father and I loved each other enough to make you and your sister. That alone makes all the other nonsense worth it.”

  She cuts me a look that says she knows why I’m asking her about this. “I don’t know what happened with you and X, but I hope you know you can’t cut yourself off from love either.”

  “I’ll be okay by myself,” I insist.

  She laughs at me. “You ever hear the one about the fish that didn’t need water?”

  “No,” I say.

  “Me neither,” she says. She takes my dry ingredients and dumps them into the eggs and mixes them all together.

  CHAPTER 56

  Once and Again

  GRADUATION IS A week later. Our valedictorian gives a speech using cheese as her primary metaphor. We started out as young, mild cheddar but have since aged into sharp, mature Gruyère. Even though some teachers and classes grated, high school was still a Gouda experience. She concludes that we’re leaving stinky with knowledge.

  Her name is Olivia Cortez, but I only know her by reputation—supersmart, sweet, destined to do something incredible, the same way Sophie is. I wish I’d gotten to know her.

  After Olivia is done with her speech, Mr. Armstrong (history teacher extraordinaire) has his boring way with us one last time. He delivers a speech about the history of modern warfare as it relates to us making a place for ourselves in the world. He uses phrases like “behind enemy lines” and “in the trenches.”

  We all groan and wish for cheese.

  Next, it’s Principal Singh’s turn. He tells us we have bright futures, because of course he does. Since our class is too big to bestow diplomas individually, he holds up an oversized symbolic diploma, presents it and declares us Bevshire High School graduates.

  “Now go out and leave your mark on the world,” he says.

  After the applause dies down, I get up and go to find Martin.

  “We made it,” he says, as if he wasn’t sure we were going to. He throws his arm around my shoulders and kisses the top of my head.

  “Do you feel ready to make your mark on the world?” I ask.

  “I don’t want the world, Eves, just my piece of it.”

  I follow his gaze and find Danica at the end of it. He squeezes my shoulder. “Your sister’s relationship status is single again,” he says.

  “Since when?”

  “Last night.”

  “How often do you check her status?”

  “Once a day or so. Is that stalking?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No.”

  He lets go of my shoulder and turns to face me fully. “Are you still okay with me asking Danica out?” I know he’s asking because of what happened with X and me.

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” I say. Still, I have to ask: “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “There’s only ever been one thing on my graduation bucket list.”

  “And she’s it?”

  “She’s it.”

  “What if she says no?”

  “Then she says no
.” He ruffles his own hair. “But what if she says yes?”

  I hope she says yes. I hope she doesn’t break his heart, but it’s his heart to break. As much as I’d like to, I can’t protect the people I love from pain. And besides, Martin’s braver than I am. He’ll take the pain with the joy. He thinks it’s worth it.

  He kisses me on the forehead again. “Let’s go find Sophie and Cassidy before our parents swoop in,” he says.

  We spot Cassidy standing by the stage scowling. Her parents are next to her, chatting up Principal Singh.

  I overhear her mom thank him for all he’s done for her little girl.

  Cassidy scowls harder. Her mom has no idea if Principal Singh did anything at all for “her little girl.”

  Martin and I pull her into a hug a couple of feet away.

  “They came,” Martin says, meaning her parents.

  Cassidy shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I can see that she’s relieved they’re here. “They got in last night.”

  “I’m glad,” I say, since she’s not going to.

  “They leave again in the morning,” she says. Then she takes a deep breath. “I think I’m going to go with them. Japan, Korea, China. Might be fun,” she says.

  I smile too bright at her.

  “I’m sorry about the road trip, Evie,” she says. “I know how much you wanted to do that.”

  I wave her off. “Listen, I’d go to Asia with my superrich parents too.”

  We hug. I know it’s the last time we’ll be this way together. When she gets back from Asia, she’ll be different. We all will be.

  We find Sophie surrounded by her parents and her sisters. She’s holding a bouquet of pink roses and still wearing her graduation cap.

  Just like we did with Cassidy, we abduct her for a hug.

  “Can’t believe this day is finally here,” I say.

  “Me neither,” she says with a sniffle.