by Kristi Cook
“Let’s go, then.” I reached for his hand, dragging him out onto the dance floor.
“I’m not a very good dancer,” he warned as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “There’s not much to it. Just rock back and forth.”
“Okay, but this is just weird,” he muttered. “With you, I mean.”
“Hey, thanks a lot! At least you’re taller than me now.” I had to look up to see his face. “Way taller. Wow. What happened to you?”
“Just a late bloomer, I guess.” He shuffled around so that he had a better view of Aidan and Cece in the center of the throng. “Damn, why do they have to look so good together?”
I turned to look over my shoulder at the pair of them gliding elegantly across the floor. Aidan met my gaze and winked. In return, I blew him a kiss.
“Are they waltzing?” Joshua asked. “Seriously?”
“Just hang on. It’ll be over soon and you can reclaim her. Sheesh, you don’t hear me complaining. I’m going to lay my head on your shoulder for a second, okay? Try not to flinch too much.”
His mouth curved into a smile. “Are you using me to make him jealous? I don’t approve.”
“I love this song. Shhh, let me enjoy it.” My head still resting on Joshua’s shoulder, I sang along as we swayed awkwardly.
When the song finally ended, Suzanne reclaimed the mic. “Let’s get this party started!” she shouted, and the DJ obliged with some pumping bass.
A relieved-looking Joshua released me just as Aidan and Cece hurried over to us. “Switch!” Cece commanded.
And then she and Joshua were gone, swallowed up by the crowd.
“I missed you,” Aidan said, ducking his head down toward my neck. His lips tickled the skin beneath my ear, making me shiver.
“What is your thing with necks?” I teased. “I swear, you’d think you were a vampire or something.”
“Very funny. You want to dance?”
“Yes, but pictures first. I don’t want to be all sweaty.” I led him away, toward the far corner of the room, where the formal portraits were being taken. Every couple of seconds, the flash went off, temporarily blinding me as we approached.
“Look, there’re Sophie and Tyler in line. Max and Marissa too. Hurry. Let’s catch up with them before someone else gets in front of us.”
Tyler asking Sophie to prom had been an unexpected surprise. I just hoped he didn’t screw it up. I was glad to see that, for now at least, Sophie was smiling happily. She looked like she was having fun.
“Hey,” I called out, joining them in line just as Sophie and Tyler stepped up to have their pictures taken.
“If it isn’t the king himself,” Marissa said. She looked beautiful in a short, magenta strapless dress with a peplum, paired with black patent Doc Marten boots. Max had coordinated his accessories with a matching bowtie and cummerbund and had dyed the tips of his spiky hair—all a bold magenta.
“Wow, Max,” I said, eyeing him up and down. “You’re really rocking that punk-formal look. Juilliard isn’t going to know what hit them.”
“That reminds me,” he said. “Don’t forget to e-mail me your friend’s name. That ballet chick. I’ll look for her at orientation.”
“Yeah, and give me her cell number,” Marissa said. “I’ll text her as soon as I’m settled in the dorm. We can hang out.”
Come fall, they would all be together—Max and Whitney at Juilliard, Marissa downtown at NYU. I was glad that Whitney would have someone to show her around the city, to introduce her to people. I was just sad that that someone wouldn’t be me.
“Next,” the photographer called out, and Max and Marissa switched places with Sophie and Tyler.
“There you are,” Sophie said. “I was looking for you at the crowning. I didn’t see you anywhere.”
“We went out for air and just barely made it back in time.”
“Good thing you did,” Tyler said. “Can’t have the king miss his own coronation.”
For a moment there, the air crackled with tension. Just ignore him, I told Aidan telepathically.
“But hey, man, congrats on that.” Tyler paused, looking Aidan straight in the eye. “We’re good now, right?”
Several seconds ticked by in strained silence. Finally, Aidan nodded. “We’re good.”
“Next,” the photographer bellowed.
Aidan and I started toward the camera, but I stopped midway, an idea forming in my mind. I turned back toward my friends. “We need a group shot when Aidan and I are done. Someone go find Cece and Josh, quick!”
I saw Max and Tyler dash off while Aidan and I struck our first pose for the camera.
“Okay, little lady, turn a bit more to your left. That’s it. Chin down. Smile, you two.” Pop. We tried several different stiff, awkward poses before Tyler and Max returned with Cece and Joshua in tow.
I motioned for everyone to join us, and we all squashed together, arms looped over shoulders and around backs. Aidan was on one side of me, Sophie on the other. I glanced around at my friends, laughing and smiling as the flash popped, thinking I’d never been happier in all my life. This was perfect . . . well, as close to perfect as it could ever be without Kate. Still, something felt slightly off, but I wasn’t exactly sure what. And then I caught sight of Matthew in my peripheral vision.
“Hey, Dr. B.,” Tyler called out, motioning with one hand. “Come on. You should be in this too.”
“Yeah,” Sophie said, moving over to make room for him between us. “C’mon, you go right here.”
Tears burned behind my eyelids as he squeezed in, an arm thrown carelessly over my shoulder. Now it felt right, I realized as the flash began to pop again. Just so—with Aidan on one side of me, my Megvéd on the other. And around us, the best friends anyone could ask for. If only I could bottle this moment in time, capture it for eternity.
We were all together, minus Kate and Jack. Together, but never again whole. As the final flash popped, a single tear slipped down my cheek, captured digitally for all time.
27 ~ The End of the Road
I glanced up from the pile of notes in my lap when Cece walked into the room, looking exhausted. “Are you finished?” I asked as she collapsed onto her bed with a groan.
“Yep, done. Finally. What about you? Just that one final left?”
“Yeah, first thing tomorrow morning. I’m going to be cramming all night long. You might want to go stay with Marissa.”
“Nah, I’ll keep you company. I can sleep all day tomorrow. Well, that and start packing.”
“Don’t even say it!” It was only a matter of days before graduation, before we all packed up and left Winterhaven for good. Just thinking about it made me feel sick to my stomach. “Anyway, how’d you do?”
“Fine, I guess. The essay question kicked my butt. I’m just so glad it’s over.”
“Hey, don’t rub it in.” Beside me, my cell began to ring. “Ugh, it’s Patsy. Probably calling to tell me she’s not coming to graduation, after all,” I said sourly, then connected the call. “Hey, there. What’s up?”
“Just calling to see how finals are going,” she chirped.
“Really well. I’ve got my English test tomorrow, and then I’m done.”
“What about the calculus test you were so worried about?”
“I think I aced it, thanks to Aidan.” He’d quizzed me relentlessly, until I could work every problem backward, forward, and sideways. “My history paper’s turned in, and we got an A on our final art history project, so it’s looking pretty good.”
“I knew you’d do just fine,” Patsy said. “Listen, I know I said we’d be there Friday night for graduation, but something’s come up at work.”
Of course it had. “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Really.”
“But you’ll be in New York next week, right? Before you leave for London? We’ll get to see you then.”
“Sure,” I said. “But look, I’m probably going to stay at Aidan’s
when I’m there in the city, okay?” Since it was my place now, technically speaking. Of course, Patsy didn’t know that, but still. It occurred to me that, at some point, I was probably going to have to tell her. Then again, maybe not. Not with her halfway around the world in Australia.
“But we’ll get together for dinner or something, right? We’ll take you both out somewhere nice to celebrate your graduation.”
She was making this way too easy.
“That sounds good. Actually, I better get back to studying now.”
“Okay, sweetie. Good luck. And I’ll be thinking about you Friday night. Paul too. He sends his love.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Talk to you later.”
I ended the call and set down my phone with a sigh.
“She’s not coming?” Cece asked.
“Nope. Big surprise, right?” Still, I was disappointed. There wouldn’t be a single person there to cheer for me when I walked across that stage and took my diploma. How pathetic was that? Aidan and I were lucky that we had each other, since neither of us had anyone else.
“I just don’t get that woman,” Cece said, shaking her head.
“Yeah, me either. It doesn’t matter, though. I just wish Gran could come.” She’d wanted to, and I’d had several long talks with Melanie, her home health aide, debating it. Melanie had finally spoken with Gran’s doctor, who had failed to give his support, and that had been that. Gran wasn’t happy, but I’d promised to come visit them in Atlanta before I went to Paris.
“Well, my grandma’s coming up from New Orleans, and all the aunts and uncles and cousins too. It’s going to be a zoo. I won’t have any time to hang out with you guys while they’re here. Which is annoying, because it is our last weekend.”
“Yeah, but it’s not good-bye, remember? Just a week, and then we’ll be in England together.”
“I can’t wait,” Cece said. “I wish Aidan would let us all chip in on the house, though.”
I shook my head. “He says it’s taken care of. The Trust people know he’s a relative of the original family, so . . . I don’t know. Maybe they worked out a deal or something. I think we’re getting to use rooms that aren’t usually open to the public. Something like that.”
“That’s so cool. Just imagine if they knew the truth—the prodigal son, returned. A freaking century later. Anyway, what about Dr. Byrne?”
“What about him?” I asked.
“I assume he’s going with us, right?”
I nodded. “Looks that way. I’m sure Charlie is thrilled.”
“I actually feel kind of bad for her. I mean, it’s probably hard to understand this thing between you and Dr. Byrne if you’re not a part of it, you know? And then you’ve got to add in the fact that he’s a teacher and you’re a student and, well . . . it must be weird for her. That’s all I’m saying.”
“See, that’s why you’re so popular,” I said, shaking my head in amazement. “You can always see things from other people’s perspectives. What do they call it? Empathy?”
“Hey, you gotta feel for the chick,” she said with a shrug.
“Trust me, I do. I swear I do. It’s just . . . I think she really hates me.” I winced, remembering the cold look in her eyes when we’d met.
Cece gave me a pointed look—lips pursed, one brow raised. “Wouldn’t you hate you? In her position, I mean?”
“Heck, yeah. Of course I would. That doesn’t make it any more pleasant, though.” I glanced down at the notes surrounding me, a painful reminder of my upcoming final. “I really should be studying.”
She nodded, rising and reaching for her bag. “Okay, I’m supposed to meet Josh at the café, anyway. You want me to bring you back anything?”
“Yes, something sweet. That, and a mocha. Actually, make it a peppermint mocha.” The peppermint would help soothe my pretest nerves.
Cece’s face lit with a smile. “You got it, girlfriend.”
I sighed heavily as the door shut behind her. Just one more final—I could do this. After all, I was a tough, vampire-slaying, tattooed, going-off-to-live-in-Paris kind of girl. What was a measly English final in the face of all that?
With a groan, I got back to work.
* * *
Friday night came all too fast. The past few days had been a blur—checking grades, packing trunks, waiting for the end to come.
And now it had. I shifted uncomfortably on the hard pew, waiting for my name to be called.
Sophie’s valedictory speech had been brief but inspiring, the perfect combination of serious but funny. How was I going to make it through each day of class at AUP without her there beside me?
As student body president, Cece had made a speech too. All those New Orleans cousins and aunts and uncles had hooted and hollered when she was finished, making her blush, and all I could think was how awesome she was—the perfect roommate. Fate had been so kind to me.
And Aidan, well . . . when I’d seen him walk across the little stage erected at the front of the chapel and take his diploma from a smiling Mrs. Girard, it had seemed so real. Like somehow all the schooling he’d received before now was meaningless—that this graduation was the one that really counted, that marked the true beginning of the rest of his life.
The rest of them who’d been called up before me alphabetically—Max, Tyler, Cece, even Jack—seemed so distant now, somehow just out of reach. I felt numb, disengaged—
“Miss Violet McKenna.”
It took me a second to recognize my own name. Beside me, Shannon McKenzie nudged me in the ribs. I rose, making my way to the end of the pew vaguely aware of the sound of cheering and whistling behind me, where the parents and family were seated. I glanced back, surprised to see Patsy and Paul on their feet, smiling in my direction.
What the heck?
“Congratulations, chérie,” Mrs. Girard said, handing me my diploma with a smile. How easily she slipped into the role of cheerful headmistress, I realized, taking the leather case and tucking it beneath my arm as I made my way back to my seat.
The procession continued on—Joshua, then Marissa a few minutes later. I clapped for them all, trying not to notice the empty spot between the R ’s and the T ’s where Kate Spencer should have been. Finally, they called out Amy Zuckerman’s name, and then the microphone fell silent.
The chapel’s pipe organ began to play the alma mater, and at last we tossed our caps into the air with a flourish. And then it was over. High school was done, a chapter in my life complete.
Aidan found me even before I’d made my way out into the crowded aisle. “I didn’t think Patsy was coming,” he said, taking my hand.
“I didn’t either.” I shook my head, feeling a little dazed as I followed him out of the chapel and onto the lawn, where a brightly lit reception tent had been set up. The trees surrounding the lawn were strung with twinkle lights, and paper lanterns lit the path. The sky was clear, the air surprisingly balmy for early June in the Hudson Valley—a perfect night to celebrate under the stars.
“There she is!” came Patsy’s voice, just behind me. I turned to find her there, smiling broadly. “Look at you,” she said, wrapping me in a hug. “You look so grown up. Your father would be so proud of you right now.”
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I said. “You said you weren’t coming.”
“I wasn’t sure we could make it, and I didn’t want you to be disappointed. And then when I found out we could come . . . well, I wanted to surprise you.” She held up her left hand, wiggling her fingers dramatically.
Immediately I noticed the gold band on her ring finger. “What? When?”
“This past weekend. Nothing big, just at City Hall. We’ll have a reception once we get to Sydney.”
“Wow,” was all I could manage.
“Congratulations,” Aidan said, mercifully stepping in and offering his hand. Patsy took it and then pulled him into an awkward hug. “It’s so good to see you. It’s been so long, hasn’t it? Oh, Paul, this is Aidan G
ray. Aidan, this is my husband, Paul Layton. My second husband. Current.” She was babbling incoherently now, obviously caught in the web of the Aidan Effect.
“Why don’t we go get something to eat?” I asked, trying to distract her. “I think they’re serving dessert.”
“Sounds good,” Paul said. “Lead on.”
Minutes later, we got our plates of cookies and assorted pastries and found a table, while Paul went off to fetch drinks.
Before I sat, I unzipped my lavender graduation gown and stepped out of it, revealing the simple white sundress I wore beneath. Aidan had already removed his own gown—silver for boys—and wore rumpled khakis and a plain white button-down shirt with a deep violet-colored tie.
“Don’t know how to work an iron, I see,” I quipped, reaching over to straighten his tie.
“Who has an iron at boarding school?” he asked with a chuckle, leaning down to kiss the tip of my nose.
I wasn’t going to admit that I did—it was just one of my many neuroses. Cece always teased me about it, especially the time she caught me ironing a stack of underwear.
“You’re not having anything, Aidan?” Patsy asked as soon as we sat, noticing the blank spot where his plate should be.
“No, I’m not hungry. Big dinner,” he lied, patting his stomach.
I reached across the table for a napkin, and Patsy laid a hand on my wrist, trapping my hand against the table. “Wait, what’s this new ring you’re wearing?” She glanced from me to Aidan and back to me again. “Is there something the two of you need to tell me?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s just a gift. You know, like a . . . umm . . .”
Help me out here, I pleaded telepathically.
“I think they call it a promise ring,” Aidan supplied.
Thank you.
“It’s pretty,” Patsy said, lifting my hand to examine it more closely. “It looks like an antique—a really precious piece, actually.”
I gave Aidan a desperate look.
He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Yeah, I found it at one of those antique stores. You know, the junky kind. I thought it suited her.”