by Jo Knowles
Ran smiles shyly at me. “I thought we could, you know, be coordinated.”
“Well, we’re all silver and gold,” Cassie says, already recovering. “Like the song in Rudolph?”
“Yeah,” I say. And then for some reason, I just start laughing. Because I love that she can turn her sadness around so quickly. Ran puts his hand on her shoulder and laughs, too. And it feels so good. So good and new. And OK. It feels OK to be here with my two best friends, happy.
We dance to the fast songs and take turns dancing with Ran to the slow ones. A few times, we dance near Holden and Gray, who are hanging out with a group of upperclassmen I don’t recognize. I think some of them are from our school and some are from the Academy, and I try to figure out which are which based on how they’re dressed. It’s hard to tell. There are girls and guys, and they all dance in a group around Holden and Gray, like a protective barrier from any Thing-type people who might try to cause trouble. Every time I catch eyes with Holden, he winks and I can see that he has the glow back.
When I slow dance with Ran, I can feel his breath in my ear. It’s funny, all these years we’ve been friends, we’ve never really been close like this before. All his familiar smells are stronger so near. I close my eyes and breathe them in.
“Fern,” he whispers on our last dance, “I’m really glad you came.”
“Me, too,” I say. I gently rest my head on his shoulder. He holds me a little closer, as if we are in a slow-dancing hug. I feel happy and sad at the same time. As if our emotions are all mixed up together. I feel his grief, but I feel his happiness, too. Somehow, it makes me feel safe, standing here with my best friend. His arms around me feel like a promise I believe. A promise that despite everything, all will be well after all.
When the song is over, we step away from each other. Ran smiles at me and I smile back, and a million butterflies take flight in my stomach. We find Cassie and head outside. Holden rushes past and yells, “Don’t wait up!” over his shoulder as he disappears with Gray and a bunch of his new friends.
“Fag!” I hear someone yell at them from the shadows.
“You know it!” Holden yells, and he and his friends all crack up laughing.
I spot the big headlights of the ice-cream truck turning into the parking lot. “You guys sure you aren’t too embarrassed to be seen in the ice-cream truck?” I ask Cassie and Ran.
“Nah,” Cassie says. “It’s like a really, really big limo.”
“With only front seats,” Ran adds.
Sara pulls up to the curb, and Ran opens the door. I get in first, then Ran, then Cassie. There aren’t enough seat belts, so Ran and I share the middle one.
“Soooo?” Sara asks. “How was it?”
“Great!” we all say at the same time.
We slowly drive through the parking lot and back onto the road. Sara turns up the radio, and we all sing “Crocodile Rock” at the top of our lungs. This is the happiest day of my life, I start to think. But then I stop. Because no happiest day should come after Charlie. But I keep singing, because I know it’s OK to be happy at this moment. I know Charlie would want me to be. I can imagine him here now, squeezed in with us, singing and laughing.
Just as we really get into the song, Sara suddenly flicks it off.
“Uh-oh,” she says. “Oh . . . no . . .” She looks in the rearview mirror. “I can’t believe it.”
“What?” I ask. But then we all see the flashing lights reflected in the side mirrors.
Sara presses the brakes and pulls to the side of the road.
“Were you speeding?” Ran asks.
“No,” Sara says. “Just stay calm. Fern, hand me my purse. Cassie, grab the registration out of the glove compartment.”
I give her the purse, and we find the registration.
Sara rolls down her window and squints at the mirror. “Guys, this is our lucky night,” she whispers. “Fern, put something over your seat belt, quick!” Ran pulls off his coat and covers our lap just as a cop steps up to the door.
“Mike!” Sara says. “How the heck are ya?”
“Hey, Sara. How’s it goin’?”
“You nearly gave me a heart attack. I totally thought we were busted. And I wasn’t even speeding! Um, I wasn’t, was I?”
“Uh, no, but . . .”
“Just stopped me to say hi, huh? How’ve you been, anyway?”
“Uh, Sara? Your dad called you out. He said his truck was stolen.”
She laughs but it sounds fake. “Well, it’s just us! It’s not stolen. So you can call off the search.”
“I don’t know. . . .”
“Look, Mike. See these sweet faces?”
We all smile at him. Cassie waves.
“They all just came from Homecoming. Remember how important that was to us when we were in school? And now I have to get them home so they don’t get in trouble for missing curfew. You don’t want them to remember their first Homecoming as the time when their driver got busted by the police, do you? I mean, Homecoming memories, Mike. You know how important they are. Weren’t you, like, homecoming king one year?”
“Actually, no. I never went to Homecoming.”
Uh-oh.
Sara sighs. “Oh, Mike. Please, for me? Tell you what. You can follow us! You could escort us to Cassie’s and Ran’s houses, and then I promise to head straight home. You can follow us the whole way. Whatever you want.”
I hold my breath. We are in so. Much. Trouble.
Mike taps his fingers on the door.
“Please?” Sara says again.
Please, I say to myself. Please, please, please, please, please.
“Oh, what the heck. All right. But don’t try anything funny. I’m going to follow you, and I can call for backup if I need it.”
“I promise. No funny business. Scout’s honor. Or whatever. Thanks, Mike! You’re the best cop ever!”
He shakes his head and walks back to his car.
“I can’t believe it,” Ran says.
“Fern, never say I’ve never done anything for you, sister.”
“Oh. My. God. This is, like, the best night of my life!” Cassie gushes. “I will never forget this night for as long as I live. How cool are we, getting pulled over by the cops! Do you think he’ll flash his lights all the way home?”
“Lord, I hope not,” Sara says.
“You were good,” Ran says. “You totally snowed him.”
“Yeah,” Sara says, turning the radio back on. “I was pretty awesome.”
We drop Cassie off first. She practically skips to her front door. When she gets there, she turns and blows us all kisses. We laugh and blow some back.
At Ran’s house, Sara pulls to the curb and parks. The police car is right behind us, but thankfully he parks far enough behind that when he turns off the lights, you can’t see him from the house. When Ran gets out, his parents open the front door and come rushing down the front path. His dad has a camera.
“You may as well get out, Fern. There’s no way they’ll let you guys leave without a pose,” Ran says.
I climb out, and his dad gives me a huge hug. Then his mom wraps her long, skinny arms around me and whispers in my ear, “You OK, honey? We’ve been so worried about you.”
I nod my head against her soft sweater. Why is it that when people are nice to you, it makes you have to cry? I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath. She smells like sugar cookies.
“I’m doing OK,” I say. She lets me go, and Ran takes my hand and leads me over to the garage door, under the outside light.
“What a beautiful couple,” his dad says. Ran squeezes my hand.
Couple?
Ran’s dad counts to three and we smile. I don’t even blink. “Perfect! I’ll have Ran e-mail you a copy. Come on, honey, it’s freezing out here.” They wave to Sara and rush back inside. The garage light goes out, and suddenly Ran and I are standing in the dark.
“That really was the best night ever,” Ran says. He is still holding my hand.<
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I can’t tell him I agree. I feel like . . . like there just can’t be any bests now. Not without Charlie.
“It was really great,” I say.
And then Ran’s face is up close to mine, and he kisses me so fast, I’m not positive it happened.
“Well, see ya,” he says, and rushes up the walk.
“See ya,” I whisper, touching my lips with my fingers. But he’s too far away to hear.
“Woo-woo!” Sara whistles when I open the door to the truck. “Way to go, Ferny!”
I cringe, but inside I am smiling so big, I think my lips will crack just at the thought.
Sara pulls back onto the road, and we drive home singing to the oldies together. When we turn onto our road, Mike turns on the flashing lights.
“Oh, gimme a break,” Sara says. “Is that really necessary?”
I peer through the rearview mirror. “It’s pretty funny,” I say.
Our dad is standing on the porch with his arms crossed at his chest.
“You ready for this?” Sara asks as we pull into the driveway.
“Bring it.”
She laughs. “Fern, you are full of surprises.”
“I know,” I say. “Who would’ve thought?”
WE OPEN OUR DOORS at the same time and step into the cold. Mike has finally turned off the stupid flashing lights.
“Hey, Mr. Wallace. Found your truck-jackers here. You want me to arrest them?”
Boy, he’s funny.
“Where’s Holden?” my dad asks, ignoring Mike’s attempt to lighten the situation.
“Where do you think he is?” Sara asks, handing him the keys to the truck.
Faded Charlie smiles down at us with his giant ice-cream cone. He really does look like a ghost under that stupid paint job. But his eyes still shine in their happy way. His happiness has always been so catching, but I spent his whole short life trying to avoid it. Maybe I was jealous of not being able to be as happy as he was all the time. Why was I so miserable? I can’t remember why. Not now, when I know what real misery is. What real loss and pain are. And I’m not going to let my dad ruin Holden’s one happy night. And not mine, either.
“Dad,” Sara says. “You’ve got to get over whatever issue you’re having with Holden.”
“Don’t,” he says. “Don’t tell me what I have to do. I have a right to worry about my son.”
Mike clears his throat. “Uh, well, I’ll be going, then, Mr. Wallace. That is, unless you really do want to press charges?”
“No, no, Mike. Thanks. I appreciate you getting them home safely. Stop by the restaurant sometime and I’ll give you a meal on the house.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he says. “You girls behave yourselves from now on, all right?”
“Thanks for not arresting us, Mike,” Sara says. “Call me!”
It’s dark, but I’m sure he’s blushing like crazy. “Uh . . . sure. OK. Bye.” He rushes back to his car and drives away.
When we turn back to my dad, he’s standing in front of the truck, looking up at Charlie. His cheeks, wet with tears, sparkle in the outdoor lights shining on us.
“Dad,” Sara says quietly, putting a hand on his shoulder, “we didn’t mean to upset you. But we did what we thought was right.”
He looks so sad, it’s hard to be mad at him.
“I know that,” he says. “I know you think I’m horrible for talking to Holden like I did. But I . . . I just don’t think he’s ready to be in a relationship. He’s just a boy. How can he even know for sure this is what he wants? Who he is?”
“It’s who he is for now,” I say. “Can’t he be who he wants to be now instead of who he’s supposed to be in the future? Right now, he’s happy. You should have seen him tonight, Dad. He was with all these friends. And he belonged.” I picture Holden on the school bus with the Things pinging his ears, and then at the dance with his friends surrounding him in their protective circle. No one is going to ping him ever again.
My dad looks at me as if for the first time.
“My God,” he says. “Fern. You’re — You look beautiful!”
“Thanks,” I say.
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. I didn’t even ask if you were going. Damn it!” He pounds his fist on the truck just below Charlie’s faded face.
I am so used to being overlooked. And usually angry about it. But this time it doesn’t bother me. Because it all worked out. It really did. It was so much better to have fun.
“It’s OK, Dad. Really.”
“No. Nothing is OK.” He steps forward and stretches his hands out to support himself against the truck. He looks up and sees that his hands have landed on Charlie’s ice-cream cone. He stares at Charlie’s sweet face. “Oh, God,” he says, and starts to cry harder.
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Dad, it’s all right.”
“Oh, God,” he keeps saying.
I press harder on his shoulder. Charlie smiles at us. He just keeps smiling. Frozen. I want to look away, but I can’t. I want to help. But I can’t. I don’t want to see my dad like this. He’s supposed to be the strong one. But now that all of us seem to be . . . surviving, he seems like he has let go.
I think about the morning Charlie died. How that strange warmth spread all through me as I lay awake, unable to sleep. I wonder if anyone else felt it. I think part of me died at that moment, too. Maybe part of all of us died. That piece of Charlie that connected us all together unclasped. And now we’re all walking around with a missing piece. Maybe my dad’s piece is bigger. Maybe it’s growing.
“I miss him so much,” my dad says, not looking at either of us. “I miss him so much, I don’t think I can survive it sometimes.”
I look at Sara, fear rising in me. “We know, Dad,” she says soothingly. “Let’s all go inside.”
My dad wipes his eyes and nods. “I wish Holden would get back here,” he says.
“Holden is in good hands, Dad. Don’t worry.”
“He really is,” I say. “Promise.”
We follow him inside and find my mom in the living room, sipping a glass of wine.
“Where’s Holden?” she asks.
“He’s with Gray,” I say. “He’s fine.”
“Fern?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
My mom puts her glass down and stands up. “Oh, honey. You look beautiful! Where did you get that dress?”
“Cassie’s sister.”
She puts her hand to her mouth so we can’t see it trembling. But then she starts to cry. “I’m so sorry, Fern. I didn’t even know you were going.”
When she says it, I realize I really should be mad at her. She’s my mom. She was supposed to help me get ready. She was supposed to take pictures of me. And Holden.
But I was supposed to tell her I was going in the first place. So what did I expect?
“It’s OK, Mom,” I say.
“You’re so beautiful,” she says again, looking at me. I mean really looking at me, and seeing me, as if for the first time in forever.
“Thanks,” I say. But I don’t think she realizes what for. Or maybe she does.
At around midnight, my parents are starting to freak out. But Sara convinces them to go to bed and promises we’ll wake them up when Holden gets home. Sara makes some popcorn and starts to put in a movie. But before it starts, I click pause.
“You know that stuff Dad said?” I ask. “About not knowing if he could survive?”
“Mm-hmmm.”
“Do you ever feel that way?”
She puts her arm around me. “Yes, I do. But at the same time, I know I will. I know we all will.”
“Mom put his ashes in his bedroom. Did you know that?”
“Yeah.”
“I think we should find a better place.”
Sara leans her head on my shoulder. “We will. It just takes time.”
We stay leaning against each other like that, with her arm around me. It doesn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable. It feels familiar.
I wake up on the couch with a start to Holden towering over us. Sara jumps, too.
“Hey,” he says, grinning. He twirls in a circle.
“Hey, Cinderella, what time is it?” Sara says.
“One thirty.”
“You don’t look like a pumpkin to me.”
“Cinderella doesn’t turn into a pumpkin, you dope. Her carriage does.”
“Oh, yeah.”
Holden sits down in the oversize chair and kicks off his shoes. He sighs happily.
“Well?” I ask.
“It was good,” he says. “Really good.”
“Where’d you go after the dance?” Sara asks. “How’d you get home?”
“There was a party at Scott Davies’s house. He’s a senior at the Academy. We hung out there and watched people get drunk and act stupid. Then this wasted girl threw up on Gray’s leg.”
“Ew,” I say.
“I know. So anyway, we had to wash Gray’s pants since we have to return the tuxes tomorrow. We hung out in the laundry room for, like, two hours. And we just talked and stuff. It was really . . . nice.”
“Just talked,” Sara says, grinning. “Right.”
“It’s true! We decided that we didn’t really like each other as boyfriends, and that it was stupid to date each other just because we’re the only gay guys we know. So now we’re going to try to find boyfriends for each other.”
“It’s like a real-life fairy tale,” Sara says. Then she cracks up. “Fairy. Get it?”
Holden shakes his head. “So not funny.”
“Oh, come on,” she fake-punches his arm.
“It kind of is,” I say.
“Hey, you’re supposed to be my trusty sidekick. Don’t go over to her side!”
“Fern’s no sidekick,” Sara says. “She’s a free woman.”
That makes me feel good. But I’m also glad that Holden still thinks of me that way.
“I’m too hyper to go to bed. Want to take the truck for a spin?” Holden gets up, as if he’s seriously ready to go.
“I think Dad swallowed the keys,” I say.
“Was it that bad?”
Sara shrugs. “He’ll get over it. You know he really is just worried about you.”