“I was thinking what if, too. But you’re right. We’re on the edge of all this stuff, and we don’t have any time, and . . .”
Her voice had gotten shaky, and she let her words trail off.
Tucker looked out at the bright, loud room. Then he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the things that really mattered—on what was best for her. For him.
“Okay. I’m glad we said all that. And I feel like such a jerk, complaining. It’s been a really hard year, but I think I’m good and you’re good and we’re ready for what’s next and that’s what’s most important. You’re about to take off and go do something amazing, and I’m really happy for you. I don’t want to mope or whatever. We should be celebrating.”
Erika swiped at her eyes and managed a tiny smile.
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. That’s why we should make tonight count.”
She reached out and squeezed his arm, directed his gaze to the left.
“C’mon. Let’s get a souvenir.”
Erika pushed him into the photo booth, then crawled in after him, and Tucker was immediately struck by how little room there was. He could have done a whole bit about how the person that designed this thing totally did it on purpose . . .
He couldn’t quite manage to say all that, though—not with Erika half on his lap, one of her arms around his shoulders.
“You know I could have taken a selfie of us for free, instead of paying five dollars . . .”
“Shut up, Tucker! It’s not the same.”
“Okay, okay. But you better make a really stupid face. If I’m going to keep this forever, I want your face to look as ridiculous as your hair looks right now.”
In front of them, a clock was clicking down, preparing them. Five, four, three . . .
“Sorry,” Erika said. “I didn’t come in here to make silly faces.”
“What?”
The camera flashed, with Tucker laughing at Erika while she looked decidedly away.
“So we’re going to take serious pictures, in the photo booth?” he asked.
“It’s not that, it’s . . . I’m a little overwhelmed, okay? I’m pretty freaking upset that this is how things have to be, but I’m also really, really glad we’re together, for a few more hours.”
On the screen in front of them, the clock once again started to tick.
“Okay, okay,” Tucker said. “I get it. I will take a very solemn photo with you to commemorate this sort of shitty, sort of awesome night.”
Three, two . . .
The camera flashed just as Erika made a fist and held it in front of his nose.
“Tucker. Listen to me! We’ve been to all these amazing parties this year, right? And we’re in the middle of our last one! Even if we can’t be together, I want a little extra something to remember it. Do you know what I mean?”
“Yes, I do. I definitely do. That’s why I paid five whole dollars . . .”
“TUCKER!” Erika was laughing, covering her face. “I don’t want a picture! I want something to remember.”
The third countdown was starting. The very last flash was on its way. She was looking right at him, and finally he saw it, what she was asking with her eyes.
His heart went wild in his chest. “Really?”
“Yes!”
As the camera clicked, he took her face in his hands and he kissed her. It felt like years of yes said all together in an instant.
46
Erika
She crawled onto his lap and kissed him until her lips stung, not caring how obvious it must be to anybody walking by what was going on in the photo booth. Her hands were in his hair and his arms were circling her waist, and she never wanted to stop.
Except they had to, of course. His elbows were banging into the walls, and her head was bumping the ceiling. He kept laughing, and she kept chiding him, and finally they had to come up for air.
She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, breathing him in. Leaving him would be harder, having had this little hint of what it could have been like, but she still thought this was worth it. They were both going into it open-eyed, honest. She didn’t have a shred of guilt or shame about it. Also, Tucker was a really good kisser.
“I can’t believe this is it,” he said. “I can’t believe, after all this time, and now . . .”
“It’s the fucking worst.”
He was running his finger up and down her back. She curled into him as far as she could and sighed.
“We probably have to get out of this photo booth,” Erika said.
“I know, I know. This sucks. I mean, everything we just talked about—that epically, royally sucks. But you know what else sucks? This party.”
Erika barked out a laugh, then leaned back to look at him.
“What? I thought you were having fun! This has been so much fun!”
“I know, I know. I am glad I came, that I saw people. But this seems like a crappy way to say goodbye, you know? It’s not up to our usual standards. If we can’t have . . . you know . . . what we want to have, then we should at least have one more awesome night.”
Erika thought for a second, then carefully drew back the curtain on the photo booth a couple inches. She glanced out at the loud room with all its neon colors, its clean carpet.
“I see what you mean. This is, like, a corporate version of the Cave. Not as much grime, but not as much charm either.”
“And we can’t even leave.”
Erika scoffed, then poked him in the chest.
“Oh my god, there’s no way that’s really true! I’m twenty freaking years old. What are they going to do, block the door?”
“That’s a good point,” Tucker said. “Screw this. Do you want to escape?”
Erika leaned forward until her forehead touched his.
“Yes,” she whispered. “The escape begins now.”
“I want to help, but there’s nothing I can do!” Destiny said. “If you say you’re sick, a parent has to pick you up. And if you leave, you can’t walk at graduation—it says it on the form you signed.”
Tucker turned to Erika. “Graduation is boring. Let’s go.”
Erika punched him in the arm. “No way! What about your mom? Don’t tell me your mom doesn’t care about graduation.”
“Oh, Tucker’s mom cares,” Bobby said. “She cares big-time. She cried the other day just talking about it.”
Tucker rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay. We can’t leave by the front door. We’ll have to sneak out.”
Destiny put a hand in the air. “Officially? I heard none of this and had nothing to do with it. But unofficially, I’m going to point out that there are four other exits, each guarded by a pair of teachers. You need to find the weakest link.”
Bobby nodded. “Yes, definitely. We need to find the weakest link. But also, to be clear, this is Dave and Buster’s, not Alcatraz.”
Destiny scoffed and told him not to ruin the fun. Then she and Tucker began a fierce debate about which door was their best bet, while Erika scanned the room, trying to think. As she did, she spotted Nina surveying the prize counter. Erika went over and took her by the elbow, whispering that she needed her and steering her quickly back toward the huddle.
“Tucker and I are breaking out of after-prom. It’s all hands on deck.”
“Are you kidding?” Nina asked. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“Not kidding! You know you want to help us!”
Nina kept insisting this was a terrible idea, but by the time they’d arrived back to where Tucker, Bobby, and Destiny were waiting, the operation was in full swing.
“Okay,” Tucker said. “We definitely want to go for that far corner. There’s almost nobody hanging out over there, and it’s Mrs. Donovan and Miss Beckett at the door. They’re both total softies, and Miss Beckett is the tennis coach, so . . . I’ve got a plan for getting her away. Now we just need to get rid of Mrs. Donovan.”
Nina sighed very loudly, then started tapping her foot.
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“I am probably going to regret this, but . . . I know for a fact that Mrs. Donovan loves Yrma. So I think this might be a good excuse to force my incredibly annoying friends to speak to each other again.”
Tucker and Erika were crouched behind a ludicrously enormous claw machine game, one that was full of three-foot-tall stuffed animals. It was the perfect vantage point from which to make a run for the door, as soon as it was clear—and already they were halfway there. Suzanne had led Miss Beckett off to a little alcove by the bathroom and was now talking with her very intently.
Erika peeked around the corner of the claw game to watch, but her stomach dropped as she did.
“Oh my god. Suzanne looks like she’s about to start crying. Is she . . . is something actually wrong? Do you think she’s okay?”
“She fine, she’s fine,” Tucker said. “That’s her tennis coach, but the tears are fake. She said she’d never fake-cried before, so she wanted to try it.”
Erika whirled back to watch again, just in time to see the tears rolling down Suzanne’s cheeks. “Holy shit. That is . . . impressive.”
“She told me this was the best part of her night.”
“What?”
Tucker shrugged. “She likes a challenge?”
Erika was wishing that she was a little closer so she could hear the full performance. Meanwhile, Nina was standing off to the left, coaching Kara and Yrma. Erika whispered that it was time, and Nina hauled the girls over.
“Okay,” she said. “We’re all set. The two of them are going to stand by the Skee-Ball machines and start yelling at each other. They’ll be close enough to Mrs. Donovan that she’ll be the first to spot them, but far enough away from the door that you guys should be able to make a run for it without her seeing, once she’s been lured away.”
Kara and Yrma both had their arms crossed, and they were very deliberately not looking at each other.
“Uh, thank you,” Erika said. “I really appreciate you doing this, you know. For us. This is . . . this is cool, right?”
Yrma arched an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m totally fine. This is no big deal. At all.”
Kara let out a single, loud laugh. “Um, I’m also totally fine. I’m not even sure I can pull this off, acting mad. Because I’m so over it.”
Nina sighed very loudly, rolling her eyes so hard it looked like it hurt. Just as she was about to give the girls their final orders, Yrma held out her hand, nonchalantly examining her nails.
“I mean, I can provide some ammunition, Kara. If you want.”
The atmosphere around the claw machine grew very tense. Erika’s eyes were darting back and forth between Kara and Yrma, and she was getting more nervous by the second.
Kara crossed her arms.
“Ammunition?”
Yrma smoothed out her hair, shook out her shoulders.
“That day that we met? On the soccer field? You were right. I totally said . . . you know. That word.”
Kara’s eyes flashed. Very slowly, she started nodding. Erika glanced sideways at Tucker, who mouthed uh-oh. For one horrible moment, she was terrified that they’d started an actual problem, all because of this stupid plan, except . . .
She wasn’t entirely sure if Kara was mad or really excited to be right.
“I. Fucking. Knew it. Can we talk about the fact that you were just learning English but somehow knew that word, of all words? Why? How?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Kara started poking Nina aggressively on the shoulder.
“I told you she said it. Didn’t I tell you?”
“Yes, yes. You freaking told me! Nine million times. Now can you please have your stupid fake fight where I told you to?”
Nina grabbed both their arms and began dragging them to the appointed spot. The girls obeyed, but spent the whole walk whispering conspiratorially at each other over Nina’s head. Once she had deposited the two of them by the Skee-Ball, they started yelling.
“This was all your fault and you know it!”
“It was all your fault and you know it!”
Tucker started giggling and Erika kicked him, told him to get ahold of himself. She peeked back around the claw machine again, her eyes on the girls, waiting to see if Mrs. Donovan would take the bait.
But as she watched them, she groaned and kicked Tucker again.
“Oh my god. They’re laughing. Both of them! They don’t look like they’re fighting at all—this is never going to work!”
But right then, Mrs. Donovan jumped out of her chair. She hustled toward Kara and Yrma, waving her hands, pleading with them to calm down.
“Let’s not end the year this way, ladies. Please, let’s not? Ladies? Ladies!”
Erika felt Tucker grab her shoulder and give it a squeeze.
“Now or never?” he whispered.
“We’ve got this. Let’s go.”
Walking fast, but not so fast that they’d attract attention, they made their way to the door. Erika kept glancing over her shoulder, worried they’d be spotted, but Mrs. Donovan and Miss Beckett were both fully distracted, and the room was so crowded. Ariana Grande was pounding from the speakers; lights were flashing everywhere. No one could possibly notice them, right? Erika scurried faster, and there it was—the door. They were golden. She fell into it as hard as she could.
It didn’t budge.
Erika tried again, then whirled around to look at Tucker.
“It’s locked.”
“No,” Tucker said. “No way.”
He swiveled around to check the room, then tried the door himself, softly cursing when it didn’t give way.
“Why are they guarding the damn door if it’s locked? How is this not, I don’t know, a safety code violation? Okay, forget this, they won’t kick me out of graduation, there’s no way—we’re just leaving through the front door.”
“No! I can’t do that to you. Or your mom!”
“C’mon, who cares?”
Erika sighed and grabbed his arm, ready to pull him back into the room, to try to convince him they could have fun here . . .
And then she saw it, right there at eye level.
“Tucker.”
He turned to see what she was pointing at, then whipped his head back, eyes wide.
“No way.”
“Yes way. I’m doing it.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“But what if I did?”
“You wouldn’t. You seem cool on the surface, but you’re a total rule follower. You’re such a Hermione.”
“Hermione always broke the rules when it mattered!”
Tucker bit his lip.
“That thing about the ink—that’s an urban legend or something, right?”
“We’re about to find out.”
A second later, Erika’s hand was bright blue and the fire alarm was screaming in their ears.
47
Tucker
Everyone had evacuated to the parking lot, which was threatening to descend into chaos, though the teachers and parents were making a pretty impressive effort of rounding everyone up and keeping them from disappearing.
Because the fire alarm had automatically unlocked all the doors in the building, Tucker and Erika had been among the first out, and had managed to hide behind a low wall of bushes on the lot’s far right before any of the chaperones had exited. Now they were stuck staring woefully at Tucker’s mom’s car.
“Who is that leaning on it?” Erika asked. “A teacher?”
“It’s the vice principal.”
“The vice principal? Oh my god, we’re never getting out of here.”
“No, no! We’ll figure something out.”
Tucker took stock of their surroundings. Dave and Buster’s sat alone off the highway. The parking lot was fenced, with one entrance, a paid gate.
“We just need to wait for everyone to go back in. Or if that takes too long, we call an Uber and then sneak out to the road. We can probably make it without anyone seeing.”
>
Turning toward Erika, he looked down at her hand, feeling half-elated, half-horrified.
“Oh my god, I seriously didn’t think . . . how is that real? I didn’t think the ink thing was real!”
“What am I supposed to do about this?” Erika asked, but she was laughing, thank god she was laughing.
“Will it be weird if you show up to your summer program wearing one glove? That would be fine, right? It can be your thing.”
“How about I touch your face, and then you can show up to graduation wearing a mask? That can be your thing.”
“Hey, hey! You know my mom would be devastated, and then I’d have to tell her it’s all your fault. You broke the law and made me flee a school function.”
“I made you? That’s an interesting take on how that all went down. Very interesting.”
“Look, we can play the blame game later, after we get out of here.”
“I’ll text Nina. You go find Bobby.”
“I see him right there! Are you cool crouching here for a couple minutes?”
“Yes, yes. It’s fine. Leave me here with my incriminating blue hand.”
Tucker had been on the verge of creeping from the bushes, but he rocked back on his heel.
“I feel like there is some kind of obvious joke I should be making right now, but I can’t quite come up with it . . .”
“Oh my god, shut up and get out of here!”
Tucker emerged as stealthily as he could, slipping toward Bobby, who was busy talking and laughing with a bunch of people from his calc class, commiserating about the final. When Tucker gave him a tap on the shoulder, he jumped. The two of them retreated to a spot a few feet away where they could talk quietly.
“How are you not gone yet?”
“We came out of that door over there, and we had to hide! And do you not see who’s leaning on my mom’s car?”
Bobby whirled around. “Shit. Uh, just so you know, Destiny talked to one of the managers and he said that nobody’s going back in until the fire department gets here and clears the building. He said an hour, at the very least.”
Tucker cursed under his breath. “Uh, by the way, how mad is Destiny?”
“Officially? Super mad. Unofficially, she is loving every second of this, but expects you to report all the details to her, and she wants them to be good.”
Our Year in Love and Parties Page 22