Be Not Afraid

by Cecilia Galante

  Sometimes I let myself imagine that it was Mom who extended my blessing to me somehow, a kind of final communication between us that we missed doing while she was alive. Not the way the demon suggested, of course, but the opposite, born out of a love so strong that when I looked hard enough, I could see it.

  Feel it.

  And for right now at least, that’s a part I know I never want to let go of.

  Twenty-Six

  A few weeks later, I rode my bike to Lucy’s house to help her get ready for prom. We were in her room; Lucy was giddy with excitement. She whirled around the perimeter of the bed in a pink dress that looked like a cupcake with sprinkles, a sweet, powdery scent drifting out from her hair. She had on heels, in which she did not navigate very well, and her hair had been professionally done that morning, complete with baby’s breath and miniature pink roses.

  “How late do you think you’ll be out?” I was sprawled across the bed in jeans and a T-shirt, eating spoonfuls of peanut butter cookie batter right out of the bowl.

  “I don’t know.” Lucy leaned into the mirror for the hundredth time, adjusting a loose sprig of baby’s breath above her ear. “My mom says I have to be home by eleven, but everyone’s going to Lizzie Sweitzer’s house to watch movies after, and then to Ted’s Diner for breakfast, so I don’t think that’s going to happen.” She turned around, squeezing her hands together. The yellow dot in her stomach was almost completely gone, the red blob in her mouth healed after a trip to the dentist. “You know this is absolutely the first and last prom I’m going to without you, don’t you?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, Marin, come on! I know you said it was too late this year, but now you don’t have an excuse. You’re coming next year, and that’s the end of it.”

  “Lucy, no one even considered asking me to prom this year. What makes you think it’s going to change next year?” There was Dominic, of course, but I hadn’t seen or heard from him in weeks, not since that last day with Cassie and Father William. There had been a single text that night, a “How are you?” to which I’d answered “Okay,” and then nothing.

  Nothing at all.

  “Because you’re different now.” She turned back to the mirror, unperturbed. “Better different, I mean. You lost the sunglasses, for one thing. And you look at people now. You hold your head up. People won’t be so afraid to approach you.” She winked. “It’ll happen. You’ll see.”

  I rolled my eyes, scooping out another blob of cookie dough with my finger. It was true about the glasses; I’d stopped wearing them for the most part after Cassie’s ordeal, since nothing I saw anymore could come close to what I’d seen during those days. I kept them in my purse, at the ready in case of really big crowds, like school assemblies and going to the mall. Places like that were still overwhelming, requiring some kind of barrier. Without my sunglasses, though, I was even plainer-looking with my boyishly short hair and forgettable features. Lucy might have had big plans, but I wasn’t holding my breath.

  The doorbell rang. Lucy’s hands froze above her hair. “He’s here? Already? It’s only five-thirty. I told him not to come until six!”

  As if on cue, Mrs. Cooper knocked on the bedroom door.

  “Don’t come in!” Lucy yelped. “I’m not ready!”

  “Oh, come on!” Mrs. Cooper said on the other side of the door. “I’m dying to see how gorgeous you look! Plus, your date has the most unbelievably beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen. I’m totally jealous.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes and stood up. “I’m almost ready. Tell him I’ll be right there!”

  “Don’t keep me waiting!” Mrs. Cooper’s voice bubbled down the hall. “I’m getting the camera!”

  “Okay.” Lucy turned to face me and squared her shoulders. “Final once-over. How do I look?”

  I got up off the bed and stood in front of her. “You look beautiful,” I said, arranging a wayward curl along her shoulder. “Really. Like a princess.”

  Lucy flushed, and then pressed my hand. “Thanks,” she whispered.

  I followed her out of her room and down the hall, wincing at the loud clacking sound her high heels made against the hardwood floors. She looked a little like a stork, lifting her knees too high so as not to fall over, but I didn’t say anything.

  Tomorrow night, Dad and I were going to get some new tulip bulbs from Lowe’s, maybe a handful of iris ones, too, and plant them in the garden, but I wasn’t sure how I was going to spend the rest of tonight. It was Saturday, though. Maybe Nan would want to go to the movies.

  Lucy stopped walking so suddenly at the bottom of the stairs that I bumped into her, almost knocking her off her feet.

  “Dominic?” she asked.

  She said the name so quietly I almost missed it, until I looked up and saw him standing there in the doorway. He was dressed in khaki shorts and a green button-down shirt. His hair had been brushed and parted, his skin scrubbed pink. In his arms was a beautiful bouquet of flowers, peonies and roses, hydrangea and clematis, little purple budded ones and the pink kind, too, the stems wrapped tightly with silk ribbon. But I only had eyes for the iris, a single white one in the middle, like a moon.

  I took a step around Lucy and swallowed, as if that might dislodge the ball blocking the words inside my throat. It didn’t work.

  “Hey, Marin.” His voice was soft. “Your dad told me you were here. I hope you don’t mind.”

  I shook my head, blinking. He had to be here to talk some more about Cassie. Maybe thank me again, although he would have to be stupid not to think that the hundred and two times he’d done it that night hadn’t sufficed. But then, maybe that was what the flowers were for. To thank me. Again. In a different way. His sister was better; his family was back to stay. Yes, that was it. Flowers. To thank me.

  “I was … wondering if you would go to the prom with me,” he said. “Not at the school or anything. It’s too late for all that. There’s a place in the park, though … under the willow trees. Next to the tennis courts? You know, where we were supposed to go that day and never ended up. We could sit and talk, just chill. Maybe have our own prom there. Sort of.” He looked embarrassed, mortified even, as if this might have been a good idea when he first thought of it, but now, said aloud, it sounded like the stupidest thing in the world. He coughed. “Um … anyway, it was just an idea. It was—”

  “I’d love to.” I stepped forward so as not to lose my nerve. “It sounds perfect.”

  Lucy squeezed my arm and I stopped, remembering. Her date hadn’t arrived yet, and there were supposed to be pictures, ones that Lucy wanted me in too. I’d planned to wave as she left in the stretch limo, watch as the black corner of it disappeared around the block, text her throughout the night to see how things were going. “Have the best time,” she said, throwing her arms around me.

  I squeezed my friend with both arms. “You too.”

  “Call me tomorrow!” Lucy said as I stepped out onto the porch. “We’ll compare notes!”

  I smiled as the door shut behind us, staring at the flowers as we made our way down the sidewalk.

  “You like them?” Dominic asked.

  “I do,” I said. “They’re beautiful.”

  “I didn’t know what kind to get. There’s so many different types out there. I was a little nervous.”

  I smiled. “They’re perfect. Really.”

  “I’m so sorry I haven’t called or texted.” He slid his fingers around mine, coughed a little. “It kind of took me a while to”—he shook his head, scrambling for the right words—“process everything, I guess. Longer than I thought it would.”

  I nodded. I understood. I was still processing it.

  “How are you?” he asked. “I mean, really.”

  “I’m all right.” His skin was warm; his fingers held mine along the curve of his palm, but not so loose they would slip. “What about you?”

  “Okay.” He nodded, as if thinking. “I slept through the night last night. First ti
me in a while. All the way through, without any nightmares.”

  I nodded. It had taken more of a toll on him than I’d let myself realize.

  “Cassie’s doing better too. It took some time, but she’s really coming around.”

  “I’m so glad.”

  He squeezed my hand. “We’re going on a family vacation. All of us. This summer.”

  “Really?” I smiled. “That’s great.”

  “It is sort of great.” He gripped my hand, stopped walking. “I’m sorry again I didn’t call, Marin. Please don’t think it’s because I wasn’t thinking of you, because I thought of you every single minute that I wasn’t thinking of … of everything else. The truth is, I was afraid that if I saw you again before I had a chance to get over everything, I’d never be able to stop associating you with that night.” He paused, rubbing his thumb over the edge of my hand. “And then I realized that I didn’t ever want to stop associating you with that night. That because of it, you gave me my sister back.”

  My heart swelled, looking up at him. He seemed older somehow, a different look behind his eyes. I wondered if I did too.

  “I’ve missed you so much, Marin.”

  “Me too.”

  He dropped my hand and brought his fingers up alongside my face. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?”

  “How long?”

  He smiled, brushing his lips against my forehead. “Guess.”

  “As long as I’ve wanted to kiss you?”

  His mouth moved down, hovering against my cheek. “Probably longer.”

  Our noses bumped. “I doubt it.”

  It’s like magic, I thought as his lips closed over mine.

  But better.

  Acknowledgments

  First thanks goes to my agent Jessica Regel, who encourages me to write whatever moves me next, and then pushes me to finish it. I couldn’t do it without you. Thank you also to the luminous Jennifer Arena at Random House, who read the original manuscript at its roughest and still somehow saw the potential. This story could not have been shaped into its final form without the brilliant advice of Laura Biagi. You’re amazing. Thanks, too, to Chelsea Eberly, who helped me fine-tune the final drafts and breathe new life into some of the more intricate strands of the manuscript, as well as the entire staff at Random House who helped bring my book to the shelves. You guys are so good at what you do, and I am grateful to be a part of it.

  None of my books get written without the necessary time to write them. As a mother and teacher, this kind of time can be especially difficult to find and navigate. Thank you to all the people who altered their own schedules so that I could do exactly this, including the ones who cheered me on from the sidelines, especially Paul Galante, Sarah Galante, Sophia Galante, Joseph Galante, Gina Marsicano, Roland Merullo, Kemi McShane, Conor Tougher, Chelsea Martelle, Nancy Sanderson, Herbert Plummer, Terry Plummer, and Judy Plummer.

  Family, all.

  I am blessed to know each and every one of you.

  About the Author

  CECILIA GALANTE is the author of several young adult and middle-grade books, although Be Not Afraid is her first YA horror novel. A graduate of Goddard College, she is an English teacher and lives with her husband and children in Pennsylvania. Visit her online at ceciliagalante.com.