by Julie Cross
“Uh-huh.” Since my fight with Claire the day before Christmas Eve, I’ve been avoiding any and all thoughts of the New Year’s Eve ball. But that’s about to end soon. Despite my claim to Haley a while back, I’d be a dead man if I skipped out on the big event.
The front door opens and Mom and Jody stand there in winter gear, fresh from the car, both assessing us, both wrinkling their noses at the mess.
Mom has two suit bags on hangers draped over one arm. “All right, I’ve got one black tuxedo for Roger. And one black suit and green skinny tie for Tate.”
“Why green?” I ask, going back to my manual.
“Leslie is wearing green shoes,” Jody explains. “She doesn’t have a date, either. You guys are going to match.”
I look up at both of them again. “How did that happen?”
Jody shrugs. “Mom arranged it.”
“It’s tradition,” Mom argues, probably anticipating my protests. “The girls wear white dresses and colored shoes and the guys wear a tie to match their shoes.”
Right. How could I forget?
“How do you know the green tie you rented is the same shade of green as Leslie’s shoes?” I lift up the book and turn to the index in the back. I’m just messing with them, but both Mom and Jody start to panic.
“Did she say Kelly green or forest green?” Jody asks Mom.
Mom’s eyes widen. “I don’t know. I’d better call Linda…” She rushes off into the house.
“So…” Jody swings her arms from her spot in the doorway, then she steps through and closes the door behind her. “Claire and I have been texting back and forth this morning.”
My heart speeds up, but I pretend not to care. “Cool.”
“About plans for tonight. After the ball,” Jody prompts, waiting a beat for me to jump in. I don’t. “I suggested that we invite you to go out with us, since you and she are…well, whatever you are.” Her nose wrinkles, but she shakes her head and continues. She’s taking the news better than I expected. “But then she said you probably wouldn’t want to come. So what’s up?”
“Nothing.” I set my drink down and examine a spot on the table.
Jody gapes at me. “Seriously?”
When I don’t respond, she sighs and then sits down between Roger and me.
Looking at the two of us, Roger gives me a serious look. “Everything okay with you and Claire?”
“It’s fine,” I say automatically.
Roger waits until he’s taken a drink of his soda, swallowed, and let the air still. “I can tell you from experience, terminal illness cuts into families in a way that no one can anticipate.”
I shift in my spot. Roger would know. I’ve seen the picture in Olivia’s room, the woman with the same blond curls and blue eyes as his daughter.
“I imagine Claire really needs someone like you right now,” Roger adds, letting me off the hook from bringing up his own family tragedies.
That last part sinks in hard. He’s right. Claire needs someone. I sigh and then stand up, brushing dirt off my pants. “Guess I should go get ready for the ball.”
Roger pulls out his cell and glances at the screen. “Shit, me, too.”
...
The second I see Claire on the stage in town hall, wearing a skin-tight long green dress, I can’t even remember what we argued about. I can’t remember seven minutes ago, let alone seven days ago.
Roger and his band are all sporting traditional black tuxes. Above the stage, a black and gold sign hangs for everyone to see. It reads: Music Sponsored by O’Connor’s Tavern.
The Women’s League president turns her back on the sash- and antler-wearing gang, and I quickly move over between Red and Leo. All around the completely transformed town hall, former Juniper Falls Princes and Princesses wear smaller versions of Leo’s antler crown. Including both my parents, who have made an effort to remain on opposite sides of the room.
A row of tables traveling the entire length of town hall is spread out in front of us. Black and gold paper was used to decorate the tables, but it’s hard to notice because the entire mile of table surface is covered with cookies. Every cookie you could possibly imagine and then some.
“This is my childhood,” I say to Red and Leo. I barely remember any crowning ceremonies from any other New Year’s Eve or the music or dancing. Just the cookies.
“Damn straight.” Red shakes his head, his eyes full of sugar lust. Then he looks around, grabs a paper plate, and takes off, even though we were instructed not to move from our spots.
I glance sideways at Haley, wearing Jody’s white dress and pink shoes. Before I can look away, she catches my eye, holds my gaze for a beat too long. There’s a sadness in her eyes despite the excitement of the night. It’s possible news has traveled around about Claire and me. But I have a feeling that I know what she’s thinking about. And it isn’t Claire.
Last year, before the ball, my mom and Jody were busy helping with setup and preparation duty. I had the house to myself for nearly six hours. And I knew I would be alone. Haley knew, too. And she’d planned on coming over. We’d planned on having sex for the first time.
It was a big deal for both of us and after, when we finally made it here, we were completely absorbed in each other. It was kind of perfect. I didn’t think I could love her more than I did then, and I didn’t think I’d ever love her less, either. How did we get from there to here? And is that something that’s always going to happen? Does that mean it wasn’t important? Would I take it back? Honestly, I have no fucking clue. But I do know that Haley and I both wanted to feel like that; we wanted to play house together, to have her alone in my bed. We wanted to feel grown-up. To imagine ourselves twenty years in the future and still here in Juniper Falls living out our glory days.
With Claire, it’s the complete opposite, like some outside force is hurdling us toward each other, and both of us are taking turns putting on the brakes, trying to skid to a stop. Or at least slow this down, whatever it is. But I’m not sure we can.
I turn away from Haley, putting Claire and her long green dress in my line of sight again, and tonight, I’m not sure that I want to slow anything down. Even if I could.
But her neutral expression, when she catches me staring, is a reminder that she’s still pissed at me for being pissed at her. She isn’t having the same stomach-fluttering, pulse-pumping revelation that I’m having right now.
I don’t want her to go out with Jody and their friends tonight. I want her all to myself. I want to be able to kiss her as many times as possible. And I want to get my fingers on the zipper holding her dress together—
I shake that vision from my head. I should have texted her an apology earlier, before she got onstage and left her phone behind.
The lights in the great room dim, and Roger clears his throat before leaning in to the mic. “We’re going to start things off with a classic…”
A couple of the kids from marching band join Roger’s crew, and they begin playing a Frank Sinatra song. Claire stands behind the keyboard, her gaze focused downward. She looks nervous. For someone who’s been in much bigger productions, it’s a little surprising.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I open with when I’m hitting on a woman.”
I glance around, having heard Dad’s voice loud and clear nearby. Sure enough, he’s breezing past me, two of his buddies trailing him.
“My wife left me for the town exterminator and his garage band,” Dad finishes.
My jaw clenches, and I swear under my breath. Stay put. Don’t move. He’s out of earshot moments later. I close my eyes and breathe deeply.
Since when do I feel obligated to defend Roger?
Dad and his gang settle at a table not too far away. They’re all eating up whatever bullshit Dad’s feeding them. And I can’t help thinking about those photos hanging here in town hall, the speech my dad gave in the locker room the night of the carnival.
I love playing hockey. But it’s never completely belonged to me. I
t’s what we do here. It’s a machine, and I’m just another preassembled product running down the conveyor belt. Even dating Haley, to everyone here, it was what made sense. And now that college hockey is tainted for me, it makes me want something all my own, that nobody can take away from me.
And Claire. The girl who has never really fit in here, whose talent is beyond the realm of what people around here know. I want her to be mine, and that won’t make a whole lot of sense to anyone else.
Olivia races past me in her puffy red dress and little black shoes. A few girls are with her, probably friends from school. I assume they’re about to swipe cookies from the table, but then Olivia lifts up her dress and proceeds to show off the new Frozen panties she got for Christmas. My neck heats up. I glance around for my mom or Jody, and when I don’t see either of them, I have no choice but to head that way.
Haley beats me to it. She slides right behind Olivia, tugs her dress down, and whispers something in her ear. Olivia straightens up, eyes wide. She and her little friends slow their walk to the cookie table, their backs upright.
Haley catches me watching, and when she gets close enough to me, she whispers, “Princess policy. Keep your panties a secret.”
I stifle a laugh. We should probably get a memo out about that because I’m not sure everyone’s aware of the policy.
“I can’t believe how good they are,” Haley mutters, like she’s still in shock about her dad joining Roger’s band. “I didn’t even think of playing Sinatra. That’s brilliant. The Women’s League ladies will love it.”
“I bet Claire can’t wait to get back to Northwestern,” Leo says, chancing a glance at me.
My stomach twists, but I shove it aside. I need to make things right with Claire. The rest, I’ll worry about later.
“I know, I was just thinking that,” Haley says to Leo.
Okay, she definitely doesn’t know about Claire and me.
Roger introduces the three marching band kids on the stage with them, then the actual band one at a time. Claire keeps her eyes on the keyboard, even when he says her name.
Silence fills the great room. Roger and his band seem to be waiting for something. Beside me, Haley tenses. “She nailed this song in rehearsal.”
Finally, after what feels like an eternity of silence, Claire takes a deep breath, her eyelids fluttering shut. And then she sings the first line of the song. No music. Nothing but her voice—pure and perfect, ringing from the walls and ceiling and everywhere.
The words, the sound, all of it wraps around me. I lock my gaze on Claire and her lips brushing the microphone.
In my head, I silently say I’m sorry, hoping she hears me. It reminds me of when I was eleven, and we were making New Year’s wishes in my backyard. She was the New Year’s wish I couldn’t write down. Midway through the song, Claire opens her eyes and she glances at me. And doesn’t look away. I can’t believe I wasted a week being mad at her. We only have a couple of weeks left.
Leo elbows me in the side. “Dude, might want to downplay a bit.”
Claire’s mom is now beside Haley, an arm around her shoulders. She gives her a squeeze and whispers, “Thank you for letting her do this.”
“Are you kidding?” Haley says. “I’m making music-committee history. I should be thanking Claire.”
“Nervous about the results?” Claire’s mom asks Haley.
“Um…yes. I’m about to barf.”
Nervous? Oh, right. The results.
I move forward, closer to the stage. To my surprise, Claire’s mom follows me. She makes a plate of cookies and hands me one with sprinkles on top. “Haven’t seen you hanging around lately.”
My face warms, and I duck my head, stuffing the cookie in my mouth. “Yeah, I know.”
I brave looking at Claire again, and I feel Mrs. O’Connor’s eyes on me. “She’s better around you, you know?”
The cookie crumbs sit like sawdust on my tongue because I’m pretty sure I’ve caused some not-so-pleasant moments for Claire recently.
Mrs. O’Connor glances over her shoulder at Haley and then back to me. “You’re allowed to be happy. Both of you.”
Happy. Definitely a word I haven’t used much lately. I imagine Claire hasn’t, either. When’s the last time I’ve seen her completely carefree and happy? She was happy in my memory, when we set off those fireworks in my backyard after the ball years ago. Jody’s words come back to me… She really believes in this stuff.
I glance back at Leo and then head over to talk to him. “Think you can do me a favor?”
I explain my plan for later tonight and after he agrees, I walk around the great room until this year’s Prince and Princess are announced—Haley and Jake. Claire exits at stage right after the announcement. Mr. Stevenson takes over the keyboard, and I force myself to stay where I am. Until they start playing a song that says exactly what I’d like to say to Claire right now: “Break Your Plans” by The Fray. I glance around and then head for the space behind the stage where Claire just disappeared to.
Chapter 32
–Claire–
My feet are killing me and my throat is dry. I slip out the back part of the stage, hopefully unnoticed, and head for the drink and snack table set up for the band. I grab the first water bottle I can reach and start chugging. Roger is still talking, doing his between-song filler—something he’s gotten much better at as the night went on.
When the next song begins, the lights dim even more, allowing the spotlight on Jake and Haley to shine brighter. She’s being Haley and crying and he’s being Jake Hammond and not crying.
I bend over to fix the strap on my shoe and immediately recognize the quiet steps and even breathing behind me. I straighten up, my stomach doing flip-flops. Warm fingers land gently on my shoulders and slide their way down my arms. Goose bumps form all over my skin, and I know I’m not going to fight this. I close my eyes and lean into the heated body. His lips press gently against my shoulder, then my collarbone, then my neck.
“Dance with me.” Tate’s strong voice echoes over the music and the thud of my heart.
“Here?” I whisper, my eyes still closed.
He answers by slowly turning me around until we’re face-to-face. All I can do is focus on those bright-green eyes and enjoy the feel of his arm snaking around my waist, pulling me closer until our bodies are touching. He takes my free hand and holds it against his chest. I lay my head on his shoulder, my lips dangerously close to his neck. And then we’re swaying to the song, cords from all the equipment running between our feet. Neither of us says a word, just the rise and fall of breaths and the movement of Tate’s fingertips over my skin speaking everything loud and clear.
I feel like we’re completely alone. Alone and naked.
Tate buries his face in my hair, and then his mouth drifts to my cheek and chin, to my neck, to the scar below my ear, hot lips gliding over hot skin until I’m ready to explode.
The song comes to a close and Roger starts the countdown to midnight. Each second he shouts into the mic is punctuated with another kiss from Tate, another spot of bare skin brushed over by his mouth. Until the shouts of “Happy New Year” fill the room and I lift my head, my gaze meeting Tate’s again.
“I’m sorry I pushed you,” I whisper. “We don’t have to… I mean, just promise you’ll keep talking to me. We’ll start there, okay?”
“Okay, I promise.” His eyes are intense, heated when he says, “Don’t go out with Jody later.” And I hear his words between those words: I want you.
My insides melt and our mouths melt together and the kiss is long and slow and so deep it hurts to breathe. Whatever this is, it makes staying in this spot seem easy. It makes being here in Juniper Falls seem easy.
“I want you,” I mumble against Tate’s mouth. My cheeks flame; my eyes widen. “I mean I want to…you know, break my plans. With Jody.”
One corner of his mouth lifts up in that sexy half smile. “Yeah, me, too.”
“You know that apartm
ent above O’Connor’s Tavern?” I say, and Tate lifts an eyebrow. “Well, we haven’t been able to get a tenant yet.”
“So it’s available.” Tate nods. “For tenants.”
“And for people looking for a place to…” I swallow back nerves. “Hang out.”
“I like hanging out,” Tate adds.
“Me, too.” I exhale and return my head to his shoulder, not able to brave looking at him.
...
I’m turning the key in the lock when Tate appears at the bottom of the steps. My heart picks up, my hands shaking. But I don’t get a second to overthink. He’s right behind me in no time, an arm tight around my waist, the other hand pushing the door open, closing it behind us while his mouth finds its way back to my neck.
It’s dim and cold in the apartment, but the bed is made even though I’ve halfway moved in over the past couple of weeks—so many parties and events to cater had me up late and early prepping food and supplies. I’ve got clothes in the dresser and bathroom supplies scattered everywhere.
Tate slips my coat off my shoulders and lets it fall on the floor, stepping over it gracefully. Now that it’s past one in the morning, I should be exhausted, but I’m so keyed up I can hardly form a complete thought.
“I haven’t texted Jody yet,” I say, but then I turn around and I’m distracted, slipping my hands inside Tate’s warm suit jacket. “We were supposed to meet up—”
“Shhh.” He presses his mouth against mine, and I’m falling all over again, losing my balance and waiting for Tate’s arms to hold me firmly in place.
“What about your mom? What did you tell—”
“Shhh,” he says again. “Everything is fine. I promise. I took care of it.”
He looks so genuine and sincere, I know he’s telling the truth, but still, I reach into my purse, digging for my phone. Tate snatches it from my hand and tosses it several feet away, letting it land softly on top of my coat.