Beyond the Storm (9780758276995)

by Pittman, Joseph

  “Oh Adam, I wish somehow this night could last forever.”

  Sealing her wish with a kiss upon her lips, he finally broke and said, “Forever yours.”

  CHAPTER 15

  THEN

  It was the day before Danton Hill High School’s “Forever Yours” senior prom, and a nervous, sweaty Adam Blackburn knew the approaching night would end in unmitigated disaster, just one more lousy high school memory that he would hopefully banish from his mind once he skipped town for college and the fortunes that awaited him beyond these borders. If that was the case, why then was he actually going through with this foolish venture? What possible reason existed for him to be escorting the beautiful, alluring, but ultimately infuriating Vanessa Massey?

  Good question, one he’d silently been asking himself countless times since the afternoon he and Vanessa had agreed to attend the dance together, like a deal made with the devil. No one in school was supposed to know about the unlikely coupling of Adam Blackburn and Vanessa Massey, save for her insider gang who had pressured Adam initially to come forth with the invite. Sure, they all knew, but they had also been sworn to secrecy on threat of being disowned by their cool friends. Adam had just a few true friends himself, and he hadn’t spoken a word to them. He had made a promise to Vanessa that he wouldn’t talk about their non-date, and she promised too, they had even shaken hands over it, their first touch of intimacy of any nature.

  So then it was a total and not too pleasant surprise that Adam found himself cornered in the empty corridor outside the lunchroom by four guys led by a pissed-off Danny Stoker on that Thursday afternoon before the fateful dance. He was positioned ironically beneath one of the prom banners that hung throughout the school when they approached him. Danny took the lead, of course; as the captain and quarterback of the Danton Hill Great Lakers football team there was an automatic deference to his leadership—what he said went, and who he picked on . . . well, his gang was right there beside him.

  Toby, Kyle, Frank . . . and Danny, lead singer and backup, ready to doo-wop on Adam.

  Danny, all six-two of him, strong, agile, with thick dark hair and more than a hint of razor scruff on his nearly eighteen-year-old face, leaned in close, intimidation on the menu; Adam could smell the cigarette smoke on his breath. The threat, and what else could it be—certainly not a friendly exchange between pals, not with this body language, not with their respective status in school—was simple, intimidating, and straight to the point. “Cancel your plans Friday night, you ain’t going anywhere near the gym.”

  Adam never felt smaller than in this guy’s presence, like the sun had been blocked and he was living in its shadow. An image flashed in his mind, of him and Vanessa dancing across that gymnasium floor and how ridiculous it would look when the picture everyone had expected to see was one of Danny and Vanessa, the ideal high school couple enjoying their final moment of glory. King and queen, ready to be crowned, suddenly upset by a stunning coup.

  Or in Danny’s language, an interception.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Adam found himself saying.

  Danny Stoker looked surprised; no one ever questioned him.

  “Punk, what did you just say?”

  “What makes you think I’m going to that stupid dance?”

  “You think I’m dumb?” he asked.

  Adam couldn’t help himself, he gave the smart-mouth response. “Changing topics?”

  Danny Stoker’s face scrunched up, confused and annoyed, probably because the latter informed the former. He raised his large hand, usually perfect for throwing the ideal spiral with the football, and thrust it under Adam’s tight throat. He pushed upward. Adam felt his feet rise slightly off the ground.

  “Listen to me good, punk. This conversation is over. You’ve been told what you have to do.”

  “You mean, what I don’t have to do,” Adam said, wondering where this shot of bravery was coming from.

  That same angry scowl came across his new enemy’s face, now red from embarrassment. “Show up here tomorrow night and you’ll live to regret it.”

  “What if I do show up, and what if I’m not alone?”

  “Oh, then you’ll have no more regrets. Because you’ll be dead.”

  Released from his hold, shoved against a line of thin metal lockers, Adam’s feet gave out and he slid to the floor in pain he tried not to show. The four guys headed off down the hall, laughing and high-fiving, walking tall like the king and princes of school that they were. Jerks.

  Cut to the next night, and Adam was alone in his bedroom, staring at the taunting tuxedo that hung from that little hook on the back of his door. He was scheduled to pick up Vanessa in twenty minutes, and she lived fifteen minutes away on the other side of town. Which any math geek could tell meant he had just five minutes to don the tux, and that included tying the bow tie, no clip-on here. Of course he’d been standing, pondering, debating for the past half hour, still unconvinced he was actually going through with the “date.” Danny Stoker’s threatening words reverberated in his ears. But could he really end his high school days on such a low note of cowardice, of leaving the pretty girl who had invited him, even if it had been last minute and really didn’t mean anything outside of her revenge on the boy who’d broken her heart? Could he go out a loser and let her go out shamed? These were big issues for someone of his tender age, and he had no one to discuss them with. No friend who would understand, neither of his parents suspected anything was wrong. He knew what he had to do: face the music, whether Danny’s or the orchestra’s. It was fight or dance, but no matter what happened, in the end he couldn’t leave Vanessa in her dress, standing on the porch waiting in vain for Mr. Temporary Charming.

  “So, it’s been a good run . . . some people think death is the better alternative,” he said to the mirror. The person who stared back swallowed a lump in his throat.

  And with such a creed spoken, Adam Blackburn donned his funeral suit.

  Four years of being one of the most popular girls in high school, all of her efforts culminated in this one grand moment: the senior prom. So why then did she feel like she was starting fresh, starting over, and her social status had gone from one hundred to zero faster than she’d said no to Danny’s insistent advances? She wondered what the big deal was over sleeping with him. Get it over with, she’d have to eventually, so why not with the boy she’d endured the last four years with? Because it just didn’t feel right. He was handsome, he was popular, she loved the way his kisses tickled her neck . . . but . . . well, the longer she knew him the more she was convinced what a self-centered jerk he was.

  Now, as a result of her actions, her . . . pride, she was attending the “Forever Yours” Senior Prom with sweet, reliable, fresh-faced Adam Blackburn. Except tonight he wasn’t exactly living up to that reliable reputation. He was already fifteen minutes late and she was growing antsy. God, what the hell had she been thinking? Did he even know how to drive? Maybe his bicycle had gotten a flat.

  A moment later she saw the sweeping glow of headlights appear and heard tires crunch over the driveway gravel.

  Vanessa, who had been watching and waiting from her bedroom window, like a prisoner, bolted out of her room, running down the stairs despite her heels and the flowing violet gown that billowed out from under her. She reached the front door seconds before her mother did, opened the front door, and stepped out onto the dimly lit porch.

  “Vanessa, dear, isn’t Danny coming in for pictures?”

  “Oh. Mom . . . uh, no, he had a sports injury the other day, his nose is swollen,” she said, conjuring that scene from a corny Brady Bunch episode she’d caught on Nick at Nite, turning Marcia’s bloated nose to her advantage. “He insisted no formal pictures. We’ll take some at the dance, when the lighting isn’t so revealing . . .”

  “Okay, dear, you know best,” her mother said to the fleeing figure.

  Such was one advantage of Vanessa’s easily won independence.

  So t
hat’s how Vanessa deflected the question of who was taking her to the senior prom, and good thing Adam was so willing to go along with every covert suggestion she came up with. Don’t honk, don’t come to the door, wait in the car, drive away quickly. That’s what happened when she hopped into the front seat, not even giving him a chance to chivalrously open the door. “Drive,” was all she said as acknowledgment to her date, and like he’d done since the moment they agreed to this foolish venture, he did as asked. For the next several minutes, as they drove through the village of Danton Hill, Vanessa fixed her makeup with the aid of the mirror above the passenger seat, and more than once did she stop and look deeper into her red-shaded eyes and wonder why going to this dance even mattered. Wasn’t there a big world out there, one that didn’t care about the petty concerns of a high school cheerleader who’d lost all reason to wave her pom-poms?

  It wasn’t until they arrived on the school grounds and he parked that she even looked at Adam, really looked at him. He had opened the door for her this time, his hand outstretched.

  “Oh, Adam . . . thank you.”

  “My mother insisted I act the perfect gentleman.”

  “You told your mother you were going to the prom?”

  “Well, the tux kind of gave me away. And I had to ask my dad for the car, which I never do. They had questions, but don’t worry, they don’t know I’m with you . . . that you’re with me. I told them I didn’t have a date, it was just a bunch of friends going . . . is that all right?”

  “It’s fine . . . and I appreciate your flexibility, Adam.” Why was she being so hesitant with him? Why was she so on edge? This was supposed to be fun, one last party with her friends before graduation, before the school sent you out into the world with all those hard-fought lessons, where success and failure were yours depending upon the decisions you made. Grown-up decisions. No more tests, this was real.

  That’s when she noticed how nice Adam looked, how . . . yes, grown-up. His thick brown hair was slicked back, his cheeks red and freshly shaved, not that he looked like he needed to scrape away the peach fuzz all that often; but still, she appreciated his effort. What she noticed most was the violet-colored bow tie and the red kerchief in the jacket pocket, a perfect match and complement to the colors of her own dress. In her hair she wore a scarlet flower, pinned to the side. With one simple burst of festive color, they looked like they went together, like they had planned this weeks in advance. A perfectly matched pair. But when he presented her with a corsage so bright, so vibrantly purple and alive, right there in the parking lot while others of their classmates headed into the gym, she realized that Adam had put more effort into the night than she had anticipated. As he slid the flower, adorned with a red ribbon, onto her wrist, she felt a passing weakness, like she could faint. She couldn’t look into his eyes. She looked anywhere else, at the water tower where they’d agreed to this night, at the football field in the distance where she’d cheered on a dominant Danny and the team, but mostly at the large dome of the looming gym, wondering just what was going to happen inside it.

  “Vanessa?”

  She didn’t even hear her own name, not at first. There might have been an echo and only the reverberation by the wind off the lake brought her back to the moment. She finally let her eyes settle on Adam’s earnest face. He looked lost, like he didn’t even know how he’d gotten to this point. A wave of remorse swept over her as she realized she was using him to fulfill some dumb girlish fantasy and that he knew it too, and that tonight was as much a memory that would stick with him as it would her. But other matters took precedence. Because no matter whom you went with, not attending the prom represented the ultimate social failure for any high schooler.

  “Adam?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We don’t have to go through with this, you know?”

  His face remained impassive. He was hard to read. “This is your night. I’m your escort. We do what you want.”

  Her eyes softened. And her heart melted, just a tiny bit.

  “You’re so much more a gentleman than . . .”

  But he stopped her from saying it, a simple gesture of his finger upon her lips.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Don’t be. It’s natural that you think about . . .”

  “No names,” she said.

  “No names,” he agreed.

  That’s when she took hold of his hand, slipped her fingers within his. She ignored the fact that his hand was moist and sweaty. She couldn’t blame him his apprehension. Her heart was beating a mile a minute.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  “Are you?”

  She swallowed all those butterflies doing flips in her stomach and thought instead about the day she’d been named head cheerleader. She decided nothing could ruin this night, no one. Confidence swelled inside her. “Adam Blackburn?”

  “Yes, Vanessa Massey?”

  From somewhere deep inside her, she found strength from a previously untapped source. “May I have this first dance?”

  What Adam had feared most was their entrance into the gymnasium. Would Danny and his gang be waiting right inside those doors, ready to pounce like lions on the hunt? Or would they be lurking in the shadows of bright streamers, allowing the tentative couple to build a false sense of comfort before jumping in and tearing down her dreams and his reputation? There was only one way to find out.

  “Ready?” she said.

  “Not at all,” he said, but he took hold of the door and held it for her, and together Adam Blackburn and Vanessa Massey made their grand entrance. The music swelled and then came to an abrupt stop. Dancers broke their embraces, they applauded politely, and then in an unplanned moment of awkwardness turned to see who the new arrivals were. It was just a small beat, barely a second before the band resumed, but in that moment Adam felt every eye fall on him, a feeling he’d never before experienced in four years of school. For one brief moment, he was the center of attention, and on his arm was a girl so pretty he could hardly believe it. With streamers colored silver and gold floating down from the ceiling, the swirling lights of red and blue and green bouncing off them, the effect was better than any conjured dream. Here was a place of shimmering beauty, the gym transformed from a place of sweaty workouts to a fantasyland of glittering rainbows and endless promise.

  As the couples resumed dancing, Adam led Vanessa through the dense crowd, not sure what they should be doing, dancing or getting a glass of punch or perhaps finding some friends in which to lose themselves. They were here, together, but did that mean they were joined at the hip? Just what was expected of him now that they were here? Fortunately, he was spared having to answer that, as Vanessa’s friends immediately swirled around them like a protective cocoon, like they’d been coached, the team led by Tiffany and Jana and their respective dates. The girls kissed cheeks and squealed over their dresses, and Adam received a high five from Davey Sisto and a slight head nod from Rich. Adam was grateful for their attention, but that didn’t stop him from looking around at his other classmates. Was Danny Stoker even here? Wasn’t he supposed to be here with trashy Lucy Walker?

  Yup, that’s exactly who he was with. Sighting confirmed. Adam could see them amidst the other dancers, though what the two of them were doing could hardly be considered dancing. Their bodies were locked nearly as one, their hips grinding more than swaying. Danny’s face was buried in her neck, his face concealed by his mop of unruly hair. Good, keep it that way, don’t notice me . . . us.

  Just then the song changed to a more up-tempo beat and the gang immediately headed out to the dance floor, Adam and Vanessa caught in their undertow. More group dance than intimate encounter, Adam found himself starting to loosen up, his body gyrating to the music, his eyes alternating between Vanessa, who seemingly had decided to just have fun tonight, her bright smile enough to light the dim room, and sneaky Danny Stoker, whose eyes had just lit up upon discovering the newly minted couple. Adam thought he should look away when hi
s eyes met Danny’s but then thought better of it. Don’t show intimidation, don’t show fear, and don’t be the first to break contact. Be strong, be confident . . . you’re safe within a group, there are teachers and chaperones around, Danny Stoker would be a fool to try anything here. Still, his threat hung over Adam like a storm cloud readying to release its pent-up rains. The song changed again. The gang stayed out on the dance floor. They were settling in, ready to enjoy the long night. Adam tried to do the same.

  Finally, sweat from dancing dotting his brow and trickling down the back of his tuxedo shirt, he whispered into Vanessa’s ear that perhaps they could take a break, grab a beverage.

  “Oh, okay, that would be nice.”

  He escorted her over to the punch bowl in the corner, where he poured out two ladles of the fruity drink into red plastic tumblers. He handed one to Vanessa, hoisted the other in a toast.

  “To the most beautiful girl on the dance floor,” he said.

  Vanessa’s face turned the color of punch, matching the flower in her hair. “Adam . . . you don’t have to say that. I mean, it’s nice and . . . it’s just, remember, we’re only friends.”

  “And friends can’t be honest with each other?”

  “Thank you. You look very handsome in your tux. Sorry I didn’t say so earlier.”

  “This old thing?” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

  She laughed, her smile helping to evaporate the tension between them.

  “Are you glad you’re here?” he asked.