by Laura Nowlin
“Not if it’s like a sassy pink,” I say. “But if it’s a sweet, girly pink, yes. Maybe some shade of sarcastic pink if it isn’t too abrasive.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says.
***
I try on all kinds of pink, for her. I wear blues and greens because Dad is leaving her, and we consider oranges and reds because the whole world is open to us now. In the mirror, I see the girl I could have been if I’d tried out for cheerleading. I see what I would have looked like if I was the sort of girl who could turn a cartwheel and have more friends than favorite books. Every dress is another girl who is not me.
And then there is one. Beige satin, nearly the color of my skin, with one, just one, layer of black tulle over the skirt and bodice. A corset top and a black ribbon for my mother to tie in the back. We watch me in the mirror.
“Okay,” my mother says. “So.”
“Please,” I say.
“Oh yes,” she says. I smile and then I laugh. I try to hold my hair with my hands but it falls between my fingers.
61
“What’s with Sasha’s dress?” Jamie whispers in my ear. I glance to the side where she and Alex are posing for a picture. The girls all got ready at my house, and all the parents came to take photos of them picking us up. The parents are misty-eyed; we’re excited and trying to be cynical. It isn’t cool to think prom is a big deal.
“It’s an old wedding dress,” I tell him. The dress, while a cool idea in theory, is not as great as we thought it would be. She looks pretty, but also like she is going to a Halloween party. Sasha thinks she looks terrific, and I haven’t told her otherwise. Angie looks amazing, and we’ve all told her so, in a sort of awe. With her supple pregnancy encased in blue and her blond hair curled in to soft ringlets, she looks like a Renaissance painting of the Madonna. Dave has not taken his eyes or his hands off her.
“I like your dress,” Jamie says.
“Do I look pretty?”
“Of course you do.”
“Smile!” my mother says. We grin and press cheek to cheek.
“Can we go yet?” Brooke calls out. She’s wearing the sarcastic pink that I had tried to explain to my mother, with a flared short skirt and black lace gloves. Her hair is in a bun like a ballerina. Noah is wearing a matching pink tux with a black shirt and tie.
In his tuxedo, Jamie is handsome like a playboy from the 1950s; he looks suave and sharp, and if I had just met him, I wouldn’t trust him not to break my heart.
“One more picture with everybody together,” Sasha’s mother says. We press together and wrap our arms around each other’s waists.
“Ow,” Brooke says. “You stepped on my toe.”
“Smile!” my mother says.
***
We don’t have a limo. Kids who rent limos are pretentious and are taking prom way too seriously. I ride in the passenger seat of Jamie’s car with Sasha and Alex in the back. We park in the back of the hotel and weave between limos and girls with dresses big enough to house families until we meet up with the others by the doors.
“Hey,” Noah says, “I think there’s food inside.”
“Of course there’s food,” Sasha says.
“What kind of food?” Alex says.
“It said in the invitations there would be a buffet,” I say.
“I am so hungry,” Angie says.
“Of course you are,” Dave says.
“Oh, be quiet.” He kisses her with his hands on her hips and I look away.
“Where’s your tiara?” Sylvie says. We all turn and look at her. She and Finny are standing by us. In the distance, I see Alexis and Victoria getting out of a limo.
“Tiaras are for every day,” I say. “This is a special night.”
“Oh,” she says. The boys snicker. Finny glances at them and tugs on her hand.
“Let’s go in,” he says.
“See you inside,” I say. Finny nods and they stroll away.
“Well, since this is a special night, we should go eat some of that special food,” Alex says.
“There’s magic in the air. I can feel it,” Jamie says.
“Shut up, guys,” I say. “She thought you were laughing at her.”
“That’s not our problem,” Sasha says.
“For the record, we were definitely laughing at you,” Noah says.
“Even I thought it was funny,” Preppy Dave says. Everyone laughs and we follow the crowd inside. There are silver stars hanging from the ceiling, and blue and white glitter on the tables.
We eat cheese cubes and make fun of most of the music. The boys take off their jackets and throw them over their chairs. We slow dance and change partners. I dance with Noah and Alex; Dave will not leave Angie’s side.
I see Finny twice, once as Jamie and I sway to a love song, and again when he and Sylvie are crowned King and Queen. His face is as red as an apple, and I laugh as I clap for him, and our eyes meet briefly. Then he is gone again, and the night moves on.
At the last slow song, I am hot and tired, and Jamie and I move together with our hips and cheeks pressed together. I lean my weight against him, just a little, and he holds me.
“I love you,” I say, and in that moment, it feels like a revelation. I wish I could explain to him that I really mean it right now. His fingers press into my back.
“I will never hurt you,” he says, and he lets me press closer.
It was one of our best moments.
62
Jamie is driving me home from school when I bring it up. It’s a gorgeous day; the sky is clear and the wind is blowing in the trees. I want to roll my window down, but Jamie doesn’t like it when I do that, and I would have to beg. My book bag is on the floor, and my knees are drawn up to my chest. We pull out of the school’s parking lot.
“I was thinking we should talk about it,” I say.
“About what?”
“About—” It hadn’t occurred to me that he wouldn’t know exactly what I meant, and now I find myself unable to say it. “About what we agreed would happen after graduation.”
“Oh,” he says. He drives in silence. He stares straight ahead. He offers me nothing.
“I’m still not on the pill,” I say. “I could get on it.”
“No,” he says, “you don’t need to do that.”
“Well, you’ll need to buy condoms then, and maybe, practice—”
“Autumn, I can’t even think about that right now. I’m so stressed out about finals and—and everything else. Let’s just not talk about it right now.”
“Okay,” I say. I’m proud that unlike other boys, he isn’t so focused on sex that he can’t think of other things.
“I love you,” I say as I kiss him and get out of the car.
“Me too,” he says.
63
All through the ceremony, I stare at Shawn O’Brian’s tangled mullet, and I think, Someday this will be the only thing I remember about my graduation. Adults march on stage and give speeches that are full of advice for us. I try to feel as if I have accomplished something, but all I feel is that I lived through a few years of my life; getting though high school was just what I did on the side.
“Autumn R. Davis,” a teacher says, and I’m moving forward to take the diploma. I remember I’m supposed to smile. Adults shake my hand and say congratulations, and I’m surprised that they look so sincere. A photographer takes my picture when I shake hands with Mrs. Black. I see spots for a moment, and then I am walking back to my seat, but it feels more like wandering.
Afterward, when we’ve taken off our robes and the teachers set us free to go find our families, the lobby is too crowded to move around and find them. I see Angie with Dave and her family and I hug her before the crowd pushes me away. I see Brooke and Noah in a corner, holding hands and talking quietly. I wonder if they
are talking about their plan to break up in the fall—I still don’t understand.
I feel my cell phone ring in my pocket.
“Mom?” I have to nearly shout to hear myself.
“Honey, we’re over by the display case. Can you see us?” She’s shouting too. I look around and stand up on my toes.
“No.” I see Jamie, Sasha, and Alex. They see me and I wave them over. They start pushing their ways toward me.
“Where are you? We can send Finny to come find you.”
“No, I’ll find you,” I say. Jamie stops in front of me, with Sasha next to him and Alex standing behind them. “I’ll be there in a sec,” I say. I hang up.
“Hey,” Jamie says, “we’re going to go eat. Wanna come? I’ll give you a ride home.”
“I have to go eat with my family,” I say.
“Oh,” Jamie says. “Can I come over tomorrow then? We need to talk.” I feel my cheeks heat up.
“Yeah, I know,” I say. I lean forward and Jamie kisses me quickly.
“I saw Finn and your mom over there,” Sasha says.
“Thanks.” I hug her and Alex quickly and push my way in the direction she pointed.
When The Mothers see me, they begin to wave excitedly, and Finny watches them and laughs. Dad is in Japan. He called me this morning.
“Picture, picture,” my Mom says. Finny and I stand next to each other and smile. The crowd is beginning to thin, and The Mothers try to find enough space to get full-length shots of us.
“So, congratulations,” Finny says. We’re still looking straight ahead at the cameras, fake smiles in place.
“For what?” I say.
“I don’t really know,” he says. I hear him laugh next to me.
“I don’t either. Congratulations for surviving maybe?”
“Maybe. But come on, it wasn’t that bad was it?” I look up at him.
“Nah, I guess not,” I say. He smiles, and out of the corner of my eyes, I see The Mothers’ cameras flash.
That was the picture they framed.
64
Jamie calls me early the next morning. I’m surprised; he never usually wakes up before ten o’clock if he can help it.
“Hey,” he says, “is it too early to come over?”
“No,” I say. “I’ve been up for an hour.”
“Oh. Okay, cool.” His voice sounds strange and my stomach turns over on itself. After we hang up, I go into the bathroom to put on makeup. I remember his strange voice, and an odd, queasy excitement flutters in me.
I wait for him on the back steps. It isn’t too warm out yet, but the sun is bright and it’s drying the dew on the grass and warming the steps. I hear a car coming and I sit up straighter, but it is only Finny. He sees me sitting on the back steps.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” I say.
“Whattaya doing?”
“Waiting for Jamie.”
“Oh,” Finny says.
Just then, Jamie’s car pulls into the driveway. He gets out slowly and looks at Finny.
“Hey, man,” he says.
“Hey,” Finny says. He turns and goes in to the house. Jamie walks over and stands in front of me. I weakly smile at him.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi,” he says, but he doesn’t smile. I know it for sure then, and my chest aches exactly as if he had punched me. I close my mouth and swallow.
So this is it after all, I think. How easy and obvious it seems now. How silly and trite, how terrible and real. I want to laugh at myself and him, but all that happens is that the corners of my mouth twitch once.
I scoot over and make room for him on the step.
“Why don’t you sit down?” I say.
“I thought we could take a walk,” he says.
“Here is fine,” I say. He shrugs and looks away. He doesn’t see that I already know. He sits down heavily, with six inches of space between us, and looks at his hands between his knees. I look away, and focus on Finny’s car while I wait. The queasy excitement that I felt before begins to ebb away, and I am filled with a cold dread.
“Autumn?” he says.
“Yes, Jamie,” I say.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“Do what?” I say, just to be cruel.
“This relationship.” I see his head turn toward me to gauge my reaction, expecting to see surprise there. I try to make my face blank, but I can feel my eyes burning.
“Why?” I say. He takes a deep breath.
“I can’t be who you need me to be,” he says. His tone is that of someone reciting a memorized lesson, a catechism. “You need me a lot, and it’s more than I can handle. You’re depressed all the time—”
“I am not depressed all the time.”
“Yeah, you are.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You’re depressed a lot.”
“My parents are getting divorced.”
“You’ve always been like this. I can’t do it anymore.”
My arms are wrapped around my stomach now, and I’m leaning forward as if I need to hold my internal organs in place. Finny’s car is blurry.
“How long have you felt this way?” I ask.
“A couple of weeks.”
“A couple of weeks? You want to throw away what we’ve had for four years after a couple of weeks? That’s stupid.”
Jamie sighs, and for the first time, I do not hear pity in his voice.
“I knew you were going to say that,” he says.
“Look, all your reasons are really stupid,” I say. “People in relationships need each other like I need you. I know it’s exhausting taking care of me, and I’m sorry. I can try to give you a break, and we can use this summer to get back on track. I really think this is just a rough patch.”
Jamie shakes his head. I finally turn and look at him. He’s looking at his hands again.
“So that’s it? You’re not even going to try? After all this time together?”
“I can’t do it anymore, Autumn.”
“You said you would love me forever.” I’m not going to let him off easy.
“I do love you, just not that way anymore,” Jamie says.
“You still love me,” I say. “You just can’t feel it right now. Sometimes that happens to me, and I just wait and it always comes back. I don’t break up with you. I just give it time.”
He shakes his head again. He sighs. I wait.
“There is something else,” he says. My veins fill with ice water, and I feel like I am looking at him from very far away.
“What?” I hear myself say, and I think how silly it is that I’m asking when I already know.
“Sasha and I have discovered that we have feelings for each other.”
Finally, the laughter that has been building up in my chest bubbles out. My head drops between my knees and my shoulders shake.
“Discovered?” I say. My laughter begins to sound strange to me and I swallow in an attempt to hold it back again. I laugh once more and shake my head. “‘Discovered’? How very fucking special that must have been for you both.”
Jamie puts a hand on my shoulder.
“We both still love you so much,” he says, “and we’ve been so worried about you. Sasha really wants to talk to you—” I shrug his hand off.
“No, no, no,” I say. “Just stop. Give me a minute.”
I take a few deep breaths. Jamie watches me respectfully, his whole aura radiating sympathy. I sit up straight again and take one last deep breath.
“Okay,” I say. Jamie leans forward expectantly. “Did you sleep with her?” I ask.
Jamie draws back as if I pinched him. He says nothing.
I blink. “Really?” I say. “When?”
“We never planned on any of this,�
� Jamie says. “We feel really awful about how this has all turned out and—”
“Tell me when!” I say.
His face hardens like it did when he said he knew what I would say. “A couple of days before prom. After she went with me to order your corsage. It was an accident. We felt awful about it and we swore that it wouldn’t happen again. But last week, we both admitted that we can’t pretend anymore. We care about each other, but we haven’t done anything about it yet. And we didn’t want to ruin graduation for you.”
“And you guys want a damn medal?” I say. I go over every memory of the six weeks since prom. It’s only in the past two weeks that I can see anything being different. I thought we were all stressed about the end of school. I trusted that Jamie would always want me. I never thought I could be free of his love for me.
“We’re sorry that we’ve hurt you, Autumn,” Jamie is saying. “But we still really care about you, and—”
“Do you want to know something funny?” I say, “I always thought you loved me more than I loved you. I always thought I would be the one to end it if it ever happened.”
“For a long time, I believed that too,” he says. For a moment my confession and his agreement give me a small feeling of camaraderie; together we’re looking over our relationship and seeing the same thing. Then the feeling is gone, and I am alone. A strange calm has come over me. I focus on Finny’s car again.
“You can go now,” I say. My voice is even and quiet. I’m ready to go to my room and be done with this.
“What?” Jamie says.
“You should go now. There isn’t anything else to say. You guys are assholes and that’s it.”
“I know you’re angry and you have a right to be, but we didn’t plan any of this—”
“I don’t really want to hear anymore, okay? Let’s just be done.”
“Okay.” Jamie stands. His face is hard again. At the bottom of the steps, he turns and looks at me. “Sasha wants you to know that she’s sorry. She wants to talk to you, but she’s going to wait for you to call her.”
“I’m not going to call her. You can go ahead and tell her that.” I stand and start toward the door.