by E. E. Cooper
Music spilled out of the different stores and over the mall’s sound system. There were kids yelling and screeching in the play area they had in the atrium. Sunshine was streaming through the glass roof and bouncing off the white tiles.
The combination was giving me a headache that I was trying to ignore as I trailed after Brit. All I wanted to do was go home and crawl under the covers, but I’d had to rush from my appointment with Dr. Sherman to meet Brit. God forbid I keep her waiting.
The search for the perfect prom dress was starting to take on Bataan Death March–like qualities. We’d been up and down the entire mall twice so far with no end in sight. What made it even more annoying was that Brit already had a dress for prom. It was fitted dark blue silk with ruffles of lace around the neckline. It had been fine before, but now that Britney was back from the dead she required something more. Something really special. Now all we had to do is find it, and I was stuck pretending to care. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t understand how a dress could matter when Beth was dead.
“I want to try on the one in here again,” Brit said, pausing in front of a bridal store. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Are you kidding? This is what we came to do,” I said, forcing an expression onto my face that I hoped would pass for excitement. If she was going to pretend to care, I was going to pretend right along with her.
“I wish we hadn’t gotten a late start. I don’t know why your parents are making you see a college recruiting consultant now. Why not wait until the summer?”
I shrugged and hoped Brit couldn’t tell I’d lied. There was no way I was admitting to her that my weekly appointments were to see a psychologist. It was way better for her to believe my parents had suddenly become rabidly competitive about where I would apply next year.
I grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. “C’mon, this isn’t a search for a dress—this is a quest.”
“I knew you’d be back,” the saleswoman trilled when she saw us. She pulled a pewter dress from a rack behind the register. “You look like a movie star in this.”
Brit flushed. “Do you mind if I try it on again?”
We were ushered back into the changing room. I dropped onto the closest tufted bench in front of the three-way mirror, glad to rest even for a minute. Being around Brit made my muscles tense; my legs felt as tight as if I’d run a half marathon.
Brit slipped off her jeans and shirt and slithered into the dress. It was amazing. The fabric was covered in tiny silver beads; it looked like molten metal as it moved across her curves. Brit turned in the mirror, critically checking every angle. I could see myself reflected behind her. My eyes had giant dark circles under them.
“Do you think it’s too much?” Brit asked. Her eyebrows were drawn together.
“How can anything on you be too much?”
“I don’t want to look sleazy.” Brit pulled lightly on the bottom of the dress. “Maybe I should try on the green one again,” she said.
Mentally I flinched. I was never going to get out of this mall. It was going to be like that myth about the guy who rolled the rock up the hill for all eternity, only for me it was going to be an endless loop of Macy’s, the bridal store, and Forever 21.
“Sure, if you want, but I think this is the one,” I said. “The saleswoman said it was a custom order that someone backed out of, which means there is zero chance anyone else is going to show up in the same thing.” Of course, if anyone else foolishly arrived in the same dress as Brit they would immediately be banished from the prom or spontaneously combust from the shame and horror of it all.
Brit was staring at herself in the mirror, and that’s when I noticed that she was about to cry. I leapt up and stood next to her. The idea that she was emotionally cracking up sent a jolt of excitement down my spine. “Brit-bear, what’s wrong?”
She shrugged. Her lips were shaking, and a tear streaked down her cheek. “It’s got to be perfect. Everyone is going to be staring at me. If there’s anything wrong, anything, people will be all over it.” Her breath hitched. “I know it doesn’t matter in the big picture; if it weren’t for Beth I wouldn’t even be going to prom, let alone worrying about a dress.” She wiped her nose. “And at the same time I feel like I owe it to her to have not just a good prom, but a great one. Almost like it’s for her too.”
I swallowed hard. “You don’t have to be perfect.”
She searched my face as if she wasn’t sure I was telling the truth and then hugged me hard. “I’m so glad I have you,” she said, her breath warm on my neck. I wasn’t even sure whether she’d been upset or simply testing to see how quickly I’d come to her side. It was always like this with her, a constant seesaw of emotions.
The saleswoman knocked lightly on the door. “How are you girls doing?” She slowly opened the door and then placed her hands over her heart as if she were overcome by the vision of Britney.
Britney turned back to the mirror and resumed her microscopic inspection of her image. “I can’t decide.”
“You need to see the whole picture. What size shoe do you wear?” the saleswoman asked.
“Eight and a half,” Brit said.
“I’m going to dash down the hall and get a pair of shoes for you to try on with the dress.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Brit said.
“Trust me. I’ll be right back.” The saleswoman hustled off before we could say anything.
Brit plopped down on the bench and I sat next to her. “Shoes might do the trick,” I said.
“Maybe I’ll click them together three times saying there’s no place like prom,” Brit said.
That’s all Brit needed: a squadron of flying monkeys to do her bidding. She regarded her reflection and then reached inside the dress to hike her boobs up higher. “Jason’s mouth will drop when he sees me in this.”
“Why do you even care what he thinks?” Jason and Sara were still together, but the way Brit looked at him in the halls was almost predatory. I couldn’t forget the party where Brit had sent Sara a box full of cockroach-stuffed teddy bears. I wanted to think she was done with him after he cheated on her, but unfortunately for Sara, she hated to lose. “Would you even take him back?”
“It’s complicated.” She checked out her manicure, frowning at a small chip in the shellac.
“He doesn’t deserve you,” I said. No one did. He should stick with Sara and count himself lucky.
“It’s not that I think what he did was okay, but I understand it. Don’t tell anyone, but we’ve gotten together a couple of times to talk.” Brit rubbed her hands over the dress, smoothing it out. “I knew in my heart we wouldn’t be together forever, but a part of me would still like to finish high school with him by my side, for old times’ sake.”
I nodded. Brit was lying again. I couldn’t tell if she knew she was lying or if she’d convinced herself of this new revised history. Brit had a way of choosing the version of reality that best suited her. In this new version of what happened, Brit hadn’t planned her and Jason’s life out to its conclusion of college together, a ring just before graduation and then a huge house in the burbs with a couple of perfect children and a golden retriever. Now the story was that she’d always planned for them to go their separate ways.
Brit was delusional. She and Jason may have talked a few times and I had no doubt he felt terrible about what happened, but Jason and Sara would be going to the dance together. No way was I going to remind her of that fact. If she wanted to believe Jason was lying awake at nights dreaming of taking her to prom, I wasn’t going to burst that bubble.
I had a flash of when the three of us went dress shopping before everything happened. “It will be weird to have prom without Beth,” I said.
There was a small twitch by Brit’s eye. “Sometimes I forget that she’s really gone. It’s easier to imagine that she’s still out there doing her thing. Taking the world by storm.” Brit squeezed my hand. “You guys would have made an awesome coupl
e at the dance.”
I clenched my teeth together. “Thanks.” Rage that Brit would talk about her so casually was all mixed up with a pang of longing for Beth. I could picture Beth spinning across the dance floor, the skirt of her dress whirling up to show her legs. She would look over her shoulder at me, and her eyes would have that glint, and I knew her mouth would taste like caramel from the rum and cola we would have drunk down on the beach before the dance. My chest hurt as if even my lungs missed her.
“It’ll be okay. I’ve fixed the perfect surprise for you.” Brit’s eyes flashed with excitement.
My stomach felt like a load of cement had been dropped inside. “What’s the surprise?”
Brit screwed her lips together. “I can’t tell if you really want to know,” she teased me.
“I really want to know,” I said.
“Well . . . you can expect Ryan to ask you to prom this week.” Brit pulled back as if she was waiting for me to applaud.
“Ryan?” My brain scrambled to think of who she was talking about. “Your cousin?”
Brit rolled her eyes, indicating I wasn’t even close.
“Ryan Reyner? Senior? Killer blue eyes?” I said.
She shook her head like she was enjoying this.
“Why is Ryan going to ask me to prom?” I tried to remember if I’d ever said more than ten words to the guy in my entire life.
“I asked him to and he totally said yes right away. You’ll love him; he’s super fun.” Brit took a tiny jump like she couldn’t even contain her excitement.
“You set me up?” Disbelief dripped from each word, but Brit either didn’t hear it or was ignoring it.
“You’re welcome.” Brit listed off Ryan’s qualities on her fingers. “He’s one of the hottest guys at our school, he’s on the basketball team, he’s going to Stanford, he’s smart, and apart from Jason, he has the best ass I’ve ever seen.”
“Do you have a date?” I asked her. If she had agreed to go with anyone who had asked her since she’d returned she hadn’t told me about it.
She smirked. “Not yet, but I have options I’m considering.”
Did she actually think Jason was going to go with her and we were all going to be some big happy party? “I don’t want to go with Ryan,” I said.
Brit’s smile dropped. “You can’t go by yourself. You’re a junior. I’m going to have a date, so you need one too.”
I had no idea what to say. “Look, I appreciate you trying to hook me up, but I don’t even want to go to prom.”
Brit waved me off. “Don’t be absurd; of course we’re going. It’s prom. What else are we going to do, make popcorn and watch movies at your place? Trust me, you’ll love Ryan. His family has a boat, could make for a great summer.” Brit stood and turned so she could see her butt in the mirror.
Did she think it was that easy? That I would go with Ryan and then just magically be over Beth?
“What if I went with Zach?” I suggested.
Brit’s nose wrinkled up. “You guys broke up.”
“We’re not dating, but we’re still friends,” I said.
Brit nibbled on her lower lip. “Kalah, don’t take this the wrong way: you know I think Zach is adorable, but we’re talking about Ryan Reyner! Ryan looks like he walked out of InStyle mag, and Zach looks more like . . .”
“Like he walked out of a Star Trek convention?” I finished for her.
“Exactly.”
“The thing is, if I can’t go with Beth, and if we’re not going to go just us, I think I’d feel better if I was there with Zach,” I explained. Brit didn’t say anything, but I could see her mulling it over. Zach didn’t fit with her picture-perfect idea of prom. “I’d make sure he wore a great tux,” I added. “Please?” I hated myself for begging. I’d never asked her to fix me up, and now I had to plead to choose my own date.
Brit sighed. “Fine, if you want to go with Zach, then ask him, but do it Monday so if he says no Ryan still has time to ask you.” She raised a finger. “And tell him no weird action figure corsages. Roses. White or maybe a light pink.”
“Okay, here we go!” The changing room door flew open and the saleswoman hustled in with a couple of shoe boxes under her arms. She dropped to her knees as if she were about to propose to Britney, or perhaps as a show of fealty. She pulled a pair of slinky silver heels out of one of the boxes.
Britney giggled and turned to look at herself. The shoes were perfect. They made her legs look longer and more toned, and they matched the dress.
“What do you think?” She asked me over her shoulder. Brit fingered the tiny blue teacup pendant that I’d given Beth. Her story was that Beth gave it to her. We both knew this was a lie. My stomach turned sour.
“Perfect,” I said.
CHAPTER THREE
After my last class on Monday I stopped short in the hall, letting people go around me as they rushed to leave. School would be over in a few weeks, and everyone was already more interested in summer plans than in being in classes. We were like prisoners with only a short amount of time left of our sentence. Even the school looked tired, the posters on the walls were torn and peeling, the white floors looked yellow, like old teeth, due to the buildup of floor wax, and teachers had stopped caring about updating the bulletin boards in their classrooms. We all wanted it to end. It was warm outside, but people were pretending it was the height of summer: shorts from Abercrombie, tank tops, and thin, sheer short-sleeve tops in bright ice cream colors.
Zach leaned against my locker. His eyes were closed, his head bopping and his foot tapping in beat with whatever was playing. He needed a haircut, and I was pretty sure he was totally unaware that his T-shirt was on inside out. I missed him. It was a dull ache in the center of my chest.
I took a deep breath and walked up, but he was so into his music that he didn’t even notice. I tapped him on the shoulder and he jumped. Zach yanked out his earbuds. I could hear the sound track from West Side Story, the song “Tonight,” until he clicked it off.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey.”
We stood there looking at each other awkwardly. I chewed on the inside of my cheek.
“You texted me you wanted to talk?” Zach asked.
My stomach twisted. I had no idea how Zach was going to respond. Things between us had been weird since the party where he declared that he loved me and I confessed I didn’t. We smiled at each other in the halls, but there was no doubt that things were a million miles away from fine between the two of us. “Yeah,” I said. “I wanted to ask you about something. I’ve got the car. Do you want to get a burger or something?” I shook the keys.
Zach shook his head. “Nah, let’s go over to Bryant Park. We can walk.” I nodded and followed him out of the building.
We walked the couple of blocks along the road with him in front. The cars going by made enough noise to make chatting difficult, and my shoes sank into drifts of old pine needles, the smell wafting up with every step. I inhaled deeply, hoping it would calm me down. When we got to the park, Zach motioned to the swings and we each took one. The chains were rusty from the winter rain and snow and squealed in protest when we sat down.
We’d barely talked in weeks. Officially we’d been on a “break” since just before Brit returned, but neither of us had made a move to either get back together or end things. In theory because I was giving him the space he wanted, but also because I had no idea how to talk to him. I’d behaved horribly, lying about Beth and keeping secrets. All I’d gotten was exactly what I’d deserved, but now I was going to ask for another favor. If I had to spend prom with Brit, I needed him by my side. Zach’s feet made tracks in the wood chips below the swing as he went back and forth.
“I hate that things between us are so weird,” he said.
I shrugged. “It’s been kind of a weird year,” I said stating the obvious.
Zach swung a bit higher. “How’s Brit doing?”
“She’s great.” This was an understatement. At
the rate she was going there would be a statue erected to her in the front lobby by the end of the year.
“I’m sorry about Beth,” Zach said. “I know you guys were close.”
I winced. He had no idea. I wanted to tell him, but it would only hurt him further. Now that there was no chance that Beth and I would become a couple, there wasn’t a point. “Yeah.” I pointed my toes toward the sky and leaned back in the swing. We swung in silence for a while, the screech of the chains sounding like an exotic birdcall.
I glimpsed Zach out of the corner of my eye waiting for me to say whatever I’d texted him about. “I was wondering if you still wanted to go to prom together,” I said finally.
I could tell he was surprised by my offer. His feet caught in the wood chips, and he almost lurched onto the ground. He didn’t say anything and for a beat I wondered if I’d just imagined saying it out loud. I should have eased into asking him, but Brit wanted an answer today so she could decide what to do about Ryan.
“Does no answer mean no?” I asked.
Zach faced me. “Like as friends?” I nodded. “I bought the tickets ages ago,” he admitted. “I couldn’t really imagine going with anyone else.”
“If we went together, we’d have a good time,” I said. The tension in my shoulders loosened.
Zach acted like he was letting out this large, exaggerated breath. “Thank god. I was imagining I’d have to go with Karl and Nathan. Nathan wants to wear the Stormtrooper costume he got at Comic-Con.”
I giggled, picturing Nathan with a carnation taped to the hard white plastic breastplate. And Nathan wondered why he had a hard time getting a girlfriend. “Tell me you’re still planning to wear a tux,” I asked in mock seriousness.
“I was considering wearing my Doctor Who outfit.” Zach pointed at me. “Now, that’s classy.”
“Totally,” I said. “A Doctor Who outfit says you’re the kind of guy who’s into time travel and isn’t afraid of a bunch of weeping angels. A Stormtrooper is basically just a space army grunt.”