by M. R. Joseph
We left Mack’s car at school, neither of us having the strength to drive, and we ran the mile and a half home. Amongst the sirens and screams coming from the streets, our feet took us to where we needed to be. Hand in hand it felt as though we flew to Mack’s house.
When we arrived it was 10:01 a.m. The South Tower fell at 9:59.
Hope hung in our hearts for a few hours. We settled in front of the TV like every other person in America that night. The phone sat in Jocelyn’s lap like it was part of her body. Minutes felt like hours. The heaviness of dread filled The Cooper’s home. Mack held Jocelyn, my dad held me and my mom.
John Cooper died on Tuesday, September 11, 2001.
I slept in Mack’s room for a week. Refusing to let me sleep on the floor, he made me sleep in his bed while he took to the small sofa across from his bed. Every night we lay there before sleep and talked about John and how fun he was. How handsome he was. What a great dad he was. How in love Jocelyn and him still were after many years of marriage. We laughed about the fishing trips he and my dad would take on the sound and how they would either come back drunk or vomiting from the roughness of the waters. Or the combination of both.
Every night of that week turned into us talking till dawn. In between that time, we both heard the cries of Jocelyn as she mourned her husband. Mack would hear her cry, and as he did every night, he attempted to console her, but she said she needed that time to herself to grieve. Mack understood to a certain extent. I couldn’t imagine losing the love of my life. I had never been in love, but I could empathize with her. When she cried, Mack would tell me to talk to him about anything and everything so he could concentrate on my voice and my words and escape hearing the pain his mother was going through. We lay on his bed looking up at the fading glow-in-the-dark stars he and I put on his ceiling years ago. I did as he asked, relieving him from his own pain. I’d do anything for Mack. My words were his escape and his refuge.
He ran the election for the casual junior prom since he was student body president. I agreed with it wholeheartedly; he got a big fat yes from me.
Mack walks out of the dressing room, and in that instantaneous moment my world is turned right side up, upside down, in a circle of confusion and delirium.
He stands there dressed head to toe in a tuxedo. I’ve never seen him dressed like this. His longish, light coppery brown hair is in messy waves. I want to fix it for him. A seafoam green tie and monochromatic shirt adorn his lean body fitting his physique like a glove. He adjusts his tie in the mirror, and I’m not in my body. I’m not me right now. I’m not sure who I am and what I’m thinking.
This is Mack. My best friend. My brother. My closest confidant. I certainly should not be taking notice of the things I am. I’ve seen this boy … or this man in his undies. He showed me his penis in my parents shed when we were eight. I showed him my boobs. I think Mack called them fried eggs or something like that.
A funny feeling takes over my body, and I suddenly feel a little sick when my gaze goes to Mack’s full lips as he continues to adjust the bowtie. For a split second, my mind wanders to a place it hasn’t gone to in years.
I know what Mack Cooper’s lips felt like on mine when I was almost a twelve-year-old girl, but what would they feel like now as an almost eighteen-year-old … woman?
Whipping off the tie in frustration and throwing it to the floor, Mack smacks me back to reality.
Thank God.
“Damn tie.” I get up off my seat and clear my throat. I grab the tie from the floor and turn him around towards me. I pull the tie over his head and adjust it onto his neck. My fingers wrap around the smooth fabric, and he squirms and flinches like he has ants in his pants, and I’m brought back to the fact that this is my annoying friend. My annoying guy friend who is a royal pain in my ass.
“Hold still, Mack. Jesus.”
He rolls his eyes then glances down as he watches my handiwork. Mack towers over me when just a few years ago we were the same height.
I can smell him and feel his breath on me as I fix his tie. My eyes flash to his, and suddenly my fingers have no control. They shake a bit and fumble as my attempt to tie this right escapes me. I divert my eyes from his and try to concentrate on what I’m supposed to be doing. Trying not to take in his features is a losing battle.
His naturally tanned skin, his minuscule freckles, his broad, strong chin and the slight slope of his nose are all hard not to notice. Mentally, I talk myself out of my impromptu attraction to him.
This is Mack, you stupid ass. Mack. Remember. Stop looking at him that way. This. Is. Mack.
My internal self-help works as he sighs and moans, because I’m obviously taking too long, and I’m back where I was five minutes ago.
I’m Corinne. I’m Rinny, and this is Mack.
I finish with the tie and turn him towards the mirror. With my hands on his shoulders, I peek around him to look at him looking in the mirror.
“Voila. Done.”
He smugly looks himself over; quite pleased with the way he looks.
Handsome is what he looks like.
“Not bad, Rinny. How do I look?”
Telling him he looks gorgeous would be an understatement of epic proportions. It would also be wrong. It wouldn’t be right. It would be … awkward.
“Eh … you’re fine.”
“Think Veronica will like it?”
Stifling a laugh since I know she’ll hate it, because it’s the most hideous combination of gray and green I have ever seen, I lie. I lie so well I scare myself.
Convincingly I tell him, “Oh, trust me, Mack. Veronica is going to love it. She’ll be on you like white on rice in this get-up. You look like a true stud in every sense of the word.”
Still checking himself out and smoothing the fabric down his chest with his hands, he turns to me.
“Yeah, ya think?” I wink at him and grin.
He begins to undo the tie and the top few buttons on the shirt.
“You still going with what’s his name?”
I grab the suit jacket off of his shoulders and yank it down. Placing it on a hanger and not looking in his direction, I answer.
“Yes. And what’s his name is Mark. Don’t pretend you don’t know him just because he scored the winning run last year against you guys and you’re all bitter because of it. That scout from BU still wants you.”
Mack lets out an aggravated sound. “Oh, please. He doesn’t bother me. I’m still confused why you like him, though. I mean, what’s he got to offer?”
I come right back at him. “I could say the same for you and Miss Pom Pom. She is so not your type, Mack. I’ve been wondering the same thing for about … oh, eight months now.”
He shrugs. “She’s cool. She talks a lot. I mean a lot, but I have fun with her.” He wiggles his brows.
He’s gross. I grab my bag from off the chair and swing it across my body. I cross my arms in front of my chest.
“If we’re done here, I’ll go tell the guy to ring you up while you’re getting undressed.”
Mack starts to take off his shirt, and I see his bare, smooth skin. My fingers want to run across his back.
What the hell is wrong with me?
He turns around to find me staring at his strong, muscular back.
“Hello. Earth to Rinny. You in there?” He waves his hands in front of my face, and I jump.
“Oh … hmm. What? Sorry I was thinking about what kind of flowers I want Mark to get me. What’d you want?”
“Tell them at the front desk I’ll pick it up next Thursday.” I nod as Mack hands me his credit card.
I gather my wits about me and head to the front of the store. I hear Mack call my name as I begin to walk.
“Hey, Rinny?” I motion to him with my chin.
“Thank you for helping me. It means a lot.” With a tight-lipped smile, his eyes find their way to mine, and he continues after pausing. “I don’t think my mom was up for this. Not like I asked her for help anyway. She’s
not with it these days.” Mack looks at me, his ghostly half-smile disappearing for a moment, our eyes still connected. By now, he’s used to Jocelyn’s depression over the loss of her husband. Without any words, I know that’s what his eyes are telling me. He’s always had these deep, intense, soulful eyes. They could stop you dead in your tracks and stop your every thought. I don’t know why I’m just discovering this now—or maybe I’ve always known this.
Since I know everything about him.
Mack pulls back his shoulders, breaks his eye contact with me and clears his throat after drifting away momentarily.
“I think Veronica is going to love it.” I do my usual nod in acceptance. He reaches the door to the dressing room and looks back over his shoulder at me, giving me a grin that makes the eyes I know so well sparkle. I don’t want her to be the reason for that sparkle. I hate to even think it.
“I’ll tell her you get all the credit for making me look good.”
No, Mack. That part you can take all the credit for.
“Mae, I got it. God, can you please just let me finish. Mark is going to be here any second.” I shrug my mother’s hands off my hair as I continue to stare into the mirror and observe the way I look.
“Corrine, please don’t take that tone with me. You had a few strands that were out of place.” I roll my eyes at her and puff out an aggravated burst of air from my lungs.
I look all wrong. My hair is too poofy. This dress is the wrong color, and I hate my shoes. I don’t wear heels. Mark towers over me so I had to at least get something with height. I look stupid.
Proms are stupid.
The doorbell rings and my stomach flips. My mother looks to me and smiles.
“He’s here.” I shoo her out of my room, and she leaves as I stick a few things in this stupid purse. I hear voices coming from downstairs and realize it’s Mack and not Mark.
I don’t know how I let him talk me into all of us going together. Yeah, my date, Mack, Veronica, and me. I must be crazy. Now in the limo on the way to the hotel, I’ll have to probably sit there and witness her trying to feel Mack’s crotch through his tux pants. I’ll bet she tries to put her tongue in his ear, too. I don’t get it. Can they just save it till the after party at the hotel?
I hear my dad yell up to me that Mack is here and the limo has just pulled up. I grab my overnight bag and check to see if I have all my comfy clothes I’ll be wearing after I take this damn dress off. I only have to wear it for three hours, but it’ll feel like an eternity.
Our group of friends rented rooms at the hotel where the prom is being held. The only reason my parents are allowing me to stay is because Mack is. Anything Mack does, I can do. I don’t know why they wouldn’t trust me if Mack wasn’t staying. It’s not like he’s my keeper.
As I make my way down the hall to the top of the stairs, I can hear my mom, dad, Jocelyn, and Mack talking. I hear cheerfulness in their voices, which surprises me with Jocelyn. She hasn’t been her usual cheerful self since John died. I take a deep breath in, not really feeling prepared for this evening. I’m not feeling what usually happens on prom night.
Sex.
I don’t think I’m ready to do it. Especially with Mark. I mean I like him, and he’s hot and he’s a great kisser. We’ve kissed and felt each other over the clothes. I felt him through his pants, and he has encouraged me to do more, but hasn’t pushed the issue. Over the bra is as far as he’s gotten with me. I don’t want to do it with anyone I don’t love. And I don’t love Mark. I have lukewarm feelings for him. My heart doesn’t race when I see him. My hormones sort of do, but I’m chalking it up to exactly that—teenage hormones. I feel vanilla when I see him. There’s no chocolatey center to Mark. There’s not even strawberry.
I carefully walk in my death trap pair of heels down the stairs. Holding on for dear life, I get midway down, and I look up from concentrating on my feet.
And my heart … races.
I feel it coming out of my chest. I feel it constrict. I hear the beats of my heart through my ears. It sounds like drums.
Everyone who’s at the bottom of the steps turns to look at me. I hear my parents and Jocelyn gasp. But all I hear is Mack’s voice and all I see are his eyes.
“Corrine, you look … beautiful.”
Mack called me beautiful. He called me Corrine.
No, Mack. You look … beautiful.
I think I may have to go to the hospital. I think there’s something wrong with me because, suddenly, all the air from my lungs is pulled from me, and I may faint. I know I’m breathing funny. I know I have to get it under control before someone notices and wants to call 911. Mack walks to the bottom of the stairs to greet me. He holds out his hand for me to take, and I wish I didn’t have this stupid dress on so I could wipe the sweat from my palm on it.
What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe it’s a fever. Maybe I’m starting with the flu. Maybe I should just stay home. Or maybe it’s something else … impossible.
I take in all that is MacIntyre Cooper. Strong and lean, broad and statuesque. I don’t even pay attention to the hideous ensemble I made him rent. That’s her problem.
I step off the last step, and Mack unexpectedly takes my elbow and turns me around so my back is resting on his chest. I’m sure my heartbeat can be felt through my back—that’s how hard it’s beating. His hand leaves my elbow as both of his hands wrap around mine.
I’m going to faint. I’m going to drop right to the ground right now. God help me.
“Photo op, ‘rents. Hurry it up,” I hear Mack say. I blink a few times as what seems like a million flashes are cast upon us. Mack whispers in my ear, sending chills down my spine.
“Smile, Rinny. Let’s give them all something to put in our baby books.”
I force a smile on my face as I try to focus on my mom’s words, my dad’s words, but I can’t because Mack’s arm encircles me. He rests his chin on my shoulder and turns his mouth again to my ear as our parents still talk around us.
“I’m serious, Rinny. You don’t look like you belong with a bat in your hand. At least not tonight. Tonight … you’re just.” He pauses and releases an easy breath that I feel on the exposed skin. “Beaut …” He stops when the bane of my existence walks in the room.
Veronica.
“Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry I’m late.” She rushes in my parent’s foyer and goes right to Mack, who releases me as soon as she makes her grand entrance. I step aside. She goes to him and reaches up-tilting his face so it’s pointing down to hers, and she kisses him.
Right on the mouth in front of his mother. It’s not even a peck or a church kiss. It’s a long, lip-smacking kiss that seems to linger a little too long.
My dad coughs.
Nice move, Pops.
She acts as though she’s embarrassed by this, but I see through her like a thin skin. I glare at her cautiously. But Jocelyn notices and speaks up, so I guess it wasn’t as inconspicuous as I wanted it to be.
“Corrine, thank you for taking the time to help Mack pick out his tux. You did …”
Veronica finally looks Mack’s ensemble over instead of looking at him like he’s dinner.
After she her eyes scan him, she snaps her head up and her eyes definitely tell me that I suck.
But knowing how damn fake she is, I expect what I get.
“You helped him, Corrine? Wow … I’m speechless.”
There’s a first for everything I suppose.
Her lips are pursed and she nods. Her momentary, icy stare is frightening. Why doesn’t Mack see this?
I stand straight up—proud as a peacock and cross my arms in front of me. I cock my hip out to the side because these damn shoes are killing me.
“I sure did. We had fun. I knew you’d love it, Veronica.”
You want cocky; I’ll give you cocky.
I throw her a look right along the same lines as hers. We square each other up, and if there were no one in this room I could take her. I know she’d be no match for me.
“It’s quite …”
I snap and answer with great smugness before she has a chance to, “Perfect.”
She chuckles. “Oh, yes, and the green and the gray go perfect with my pink dress.” I guess no one else catches on to the way she emphasizes the word ‘pink’ and says it through her teeth.
I feel a sense of accomplishment because she’s clearly not happy. I’m not a vindictive person, but there are things about Veronica Matthews that I can see but Mack can’t. I’ve heard her in the girls bathroom at school when I was hiding out in one of the stalls. I’ve heard her say she’s never letting him go. She’s going to be a MLB wife, have whatever her heart desires, and that Mack would take her away from Long Island. My interpretation of that conversation: he’s the meal ticket. She’s the hawk preparing herself to swoop down and collect her prey. I’m not sure how she’s going to do it. I only wish Mack would open his eyes and see what she really is. A climber.
Another knock at my parents’ door signals that my date is here. My dad opens the door and Mark appears. Totally matching the purple in my dress with his tie and flower coming out of his lapel, he holds a small white, bakery type box and smiles when he sees me. I smile at him, and even though he looks handsome, no breaths are stolen. No butterflies take flight in my belly. Only recognition of his good looks. Mark, on the other hand, looks at me like I’m not even wearing a dress.
Mark walks up to me after shaking my dad’s hand and giving a polite hello to my mother and Jocelyn. He ignores Mack and Veronica. I open the box and see the adorable little bouquet of flowers. They are a mixture of roses in different shades of pink, which complement the iridescence in my dress.
“Wow, Corrine. You are stunningly beautiful. That dress is … something.” The emotion in his voice and the look he gives me tells me there is a hidden meaning behind his last few words. He kisses my cheek and I feel heat creep up my face, but it’s only because I can feel eyes on me. Intensely. I turn my face to where my Spidey sense tells me where the stare is coming from. Mack stands beside Veronica in her hideous Pepto Bismol colored dress. They look like an Easter egg standing beside each other.