by T. K. Rapp
“It’s fine, Haden.”
“No, it’s not. I’m sick of it. You know why I left? I left because she called me in hysterics saying that she couldn’t find her pills.”
I try to keep my jaw from falling open, but remain quiet while he continues to talk.
“Pills, Lai. I’m done with all of this. I knew when I left that she was already drunk and I almost ignored the phone call, but I didn’t. I was so worried that this time she’d do it, so I rushed over and found them before she did and threw them away. She wasn’t too happy with me when I told her.”
“Is that what-?” I point to the living room, implying the mess I walked into.
“Yeah, she threw a fit, and it probably would have lasted longer had you not shown up.”
“So what happens now?” I ask.
“I wait until she wakes up. She sleeps some of it off and then she comes to and I help her to bed.”
“Sounds like some sort of routine,” I observe out loud and cringe when I realize how judgmental it sounds.
“Pretty much is.” He shrugs.
“Well, then I guess we’ll wait.” I try for a smile, but it falls short.
“This is my mess to deal with,” he says, but I interrupt.
“She’s your mom and I love her, but technically, it’s hers. Haden, you’re just enabling her—what about your life?”
“You don’t get it, she’s my mom,” he says, but realizes his choice of words.
“No, you’re right, I don’t get it. I mean, my mom gave me away because she couldn’t take care of me, so I have completely different set of mommy issues.”
“Ah, hell, Lai, I didn’t mean it like that.”
I shake off his words and try not to read into them because I know what he means. “It’s fine, really.”
“I’m an ass,” he scolds and touches his hand to my cheek sweetly.
“She’s done everything for me since Dad died. I can’t just let her fall apart.”
“I’m not saying to abandon her, but it sounds like maybe she needs some help—more than you can give her.”
“Lai,” he says as if it’s a warning but I put my hand up to stop him.
“Have you talked to her about it?”
“I’ve tried, but she always promises that she’s fine and that she’s okay with my leaving. Then a night like tonight happens.”
“So what do you usually do when this happens?”
He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms to signal this is it. Neither of us say anything for a while, and I wonder if I’m making things worse for him by being here right now.
The clock on their kitchen oven reads almost ten o’clock. I’ve been here almost two hours and she’s still out of it. We could have gone for an hour, come back, and she’d be exactly as we left her. Haden cocks his head to the side and waves me over, not saying a word. When I stand up, he pulls me to his lap, wraps his arms around my waist, and leans his head against my neck.
“I’m so sorry I ruined everything,” he mutters and I know he means it.
“There’s nothing we can do now,” I say, trying to sound reasonable. “She needs you, and it wouldn’t be the same without you there.”
“I’m going to make it up to you,” he promises.
“Haden?” his mom calls from the living room and he sits upright.
“Yeah, Ma.” He lifts his finger to shush me and stands up to tend to her.
I can hear them talking and her apologizing but she’s still out of it. I remain rooted to my chair until I hear their voices disappear as they walk away, and I bury my face in my hands.
How is it that none of us saw what was going on? I suppose, looking back, they never invite anyone over, and for the most part Haden goes everywhere else but home. This explains why he’s always quiet and keeps so much to himself—probably a tough load to carry alone.
I remember my phone so I sneak into the living room and the screen lights up with missed texts.
8:03—Bailey: You’re missing it. Hurry up. I miss your face.
8:38—Braxton: On your way yet?
9:47—Joey: Everything Ok?
Ree sent some pictures of everyone dancing and having a great time. The ballroom looks amazing, and seeing everyone dressed up—I can’t help my disappointment. Of course I want to be there, but being there without Haden sounds equally disappointing. I tap out a quick message to Joey, since he was the last one.
Me: It’s ok. Don’t think we’ll make it.
Joey: I’ll save you a dance in case.
I close out my screen, but not before Haden walks in and I’ve been caught red-handed. I offer a crooked smile and shrug before tucking it back into my purse.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again and reaches for my hand.
“I chose to be here,” I remind him.
“She’s asleep now, I think we might have time to enjoy the last hour or so,” he says with a sad optimism.
“By the time we leave, park, get inside, we might have twenty minutes, tops. Why don’t we just head back to my house and make sure that everything’s set up? Everyone will be there in a little while anyway,” I stand up and straighten out my dress. “At least you got to see me in it.”
He reaches for my hand and grabs my clutch before we walk outside. It’s a beautiful, star-filled night that would only have been better if we’d made it to the prom. We drive the short distance back home and see the lights are on inside the house, but the other car is gone.
“They’re at Cole’s.” I point and walk up to the front door to let us inside.
I set my purse down and walk outside, where Mom and Dad spent the last two days fixing it up for tonight. They put Christmas lights in the trees in the backyard last year for their anniversary and liked them so much that they never took them down. The patio table and chairs have been cleaned up and rearranged to make room for everyone to sit together, but off to the side is a buffet table.
Haden walks over and takes my hand as we walk down the stairs to the rock pathway that leads to the pool.
“I owe you a dance,” he says when he comes to a stop on the grass.
“Next time,” I smile.
“No, tonight is prom and we didn’t make it, so will you dance with me?”
It’s a sweet gesture and I comply with the awkward request by giving him a simple nod. He holds a finger up and reaches into his jacket pocket to pull out his cell phone. The screen illuminates his face as his finger runs up and down the device. While he continues to look through his phone, I sit back in the lounge chair and gaze at the stars again. There isn’t a cloud in the sky, and with the limited light coming from the house, I feel like I see everything.
“We’re up there,” he says.
I look over to see him staring up at the sky as well and turn my eyes back to the view and smile. “I know.”
“Dance?” He extends his hand to help me out of the chair and sets his phone down before turning back to me. We stand there for a moment before “Let Her Go” by Passenger starts to softly play.
“I love this song,” I say as I step into his arms and wrap mine around his neck.
“I love you,” he answers quickly.
I wish I could express how much those words mean to me, but something tells me he already knows.
“This song’s the reason I finally said something,” he says. It’s almost like a thought he didn’t intend to admit.
I move my head back so I can look into his face, and cock my head to the side, hoping he continues. He leans down and kisses me before speaking again.
“I didn’t want to live with the ‘what ifs.’ I couldn’t let you go without trying to see if I stood a chance in the first place.”
“Screw prom, this is better,” I admit truthfully.
My heart pounds in my chest because I know the feeling, only I wasn’t brave enough—I’ve never been brave enough—to see if there was more. But not Haden. He put everything on the line—our friendship, the fate of our gro
up, all of it—for me. For us.
“I don’t think anyone stands a chance after you,” I say past the lump in my throat.
“You can’t know that.”
“I know there’s so much out there after this is all over, but you have completely stolen my heart and made the chances for any other guy to get in there next to impossible. How can there be room for anyone after you?”
“That’s what I’m banking on,” he says.
He pulls me close as we continue to move to the music and I rest my head against his chest to listen to his heartbeat. I’ve fought so hard not to think of what happens when all of this is over, but in less than a month, we graduate. Acceptance letters have come in for everyone but Cole and the two of us. Who knows where we will end up? I fight the sadness inside of me, because I want to stay in this moment with him.
“We’re too young for forevers, aren’t we?” I ask, but the increase in the beating in his chest causes me to look at him.
He’s staring at me, but his features are hard to make out in the darkness.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Your question. Forever.”
“And?”
“I don’t know what the future holds, but I know it’s a million times better with you.”
“Hey!” I hear Cole yell when he opens the back door. “What happened to you two—why didn’t you show up?”
Haden and I are staring at each other, and I wish the others would go inside so we can finish our conversation, but that’s not going to happen. He cups my face in his hand and wipes his thumb across my cheek before kissing me.
“Forever,” he mutters when he takes my hand in his so we can join everyone. At least that’s what I think he said.
“How was it?” I ask the group when we get to the table.
“It was okay,” Bailey says, but I can tell she’s trying to downplay it.
“Liar,” I laugh and sit on Haden’s lap. He wraps his arm around my waist and I lean into him, enjoying the connection.
“Yeah, she’s a bad liar,” Ree admits. “It was so much fun. I wish y’all could’ve been there.”
“So do we,” Haden chimes in. “But my mom wasn’t feeling well. I told Lai to go without me, but-”
“She never listens,” Joey finishes for him and Haden nods in agreement.
“Should’ve been there, Lai. You were announced prom queen,” Braxton smirks and everyone laughs, including me.
“Well, I bet the runner up wasn’t too pleased with the pig’s blood being dumped on her head and all,” I deadpan.
“She screamed a little, but luckily we got out before Kasey went truly psycho,” Bailey chimes in.
“Who’s up for a swim?” I ask as I try to stand up, but Haden keeps me locked in place when I look at him.
“We didn’t finish our one and only dance.” He shrugs.
Oh, thank God! I wasn’t finished with our dance either.
“And I told you I was saving a dance for you,” Joey adds.
“Next time,” I laugh but Braxton sides with the others.
“C’mon, Laila,” Ree goads. “You know you can’t say no to these guys.”
“Fine.” I feign annoyance and stand up. “Who’s first?”
Braxton jumps up and pulls out his phone while Joey runs inside to grab something. He comes back out with a speaker and sets it on the ledge of the deck and attaches Braxton’s phone to it.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to finish dancing with my girl,” Haden says, never taking his eyes off of me.
Everyone remains on the deck, so we head back to finish what we started.
“Your girl, huh?” I ask when we’re out of earshot.
“They’re the only ones I’ll ever share you with,” he laughs.
“I guess that makes me stingy because I don’t plan to share you at all.”
“Good,” he answers.
“Haden?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For making this year so special,” I smile.
“Thanks for being worth it.”
“Can I cut in?” Joey asks from behind me. Haden kisses my nose and hands me off to Joey. He takes my hand in his and wraps his other around my waist but remains still until his song for me begins to play.
“Aw, you remembered,” I laugh as we start to move to “You’re my Best Friend” by Queen. When I was younger, my mom was listening to their greatest hits and this song came on. I listened to the words and was so excited that I ran the three houses down to Joey’s to tell him that we had a song. Of course he laughed at me and said friends don’t have songs, but I knew it was made just for us.
“Lai, you have it as my ringtone when I call you,” he smirks as we dance awkwardly to the beat. “I know the song.”
“You’re the best,” I say and hug him tightly.
“I know,” he agrees but pulls away as the song ends and spins me into the waiting arms of Cole.
“And what did you pick?” I ask with my hands playfully on my hips.
“Lai, did I ever tell you you’re my hero?” he says with a straight face and I try hard not to laugh.
“You know you can lean on me,” I deadpan.
Everyone is watching us with a strange curiosity and I wonder how long we can drag it out.
“And you can stand under my umbrella anytime,” he answers.
“Ella?” I ask with neutral expression on my face.
“Ella,” he adds.
“But we’re just friends,” I answer in monotone.
“I need help from my friends,” he says as Joe Cocker’s version of “With a Little Help from My Friends” begins to play.
He pulls me toward him and smiles as we sway to the music. Cole’s song selection almost has me tearing up because it’s very unlike him. I feel like the luckiest girl to have these people in my life. They are going out of their way to make prom special, even if I didn’t get to the formal.
As the song comes to an end, Haden rejoins me and gives me a hug while conversations are going on. He dips his head and kisses my lips, but it’s interrupted—again—by the sound of a familiar song and I laugh as Braxton steps in between us.
Everyone starts dancing—or rather jumping around—to “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond and I can’t keep a straight face.
We all hate this song, but our parents would get together, and after a drink or two they would start reminiscing about their youth—and this song always accompanied the memories. They would start dancing, singing, and laughing as they belted it out as loudly as possible. We know this song, all of us, because it was ingrained in us so young.
I’m not sure how long we dance as everyone takes turns playing DJ before we finally change into our swimsuits and spend the rest of the night hanging out the way we always have—with a few extra people along for the ride.
Chapter 28 ~ Finding Acceptance
“Did you have fun last night?” Mom asks when I stumble down the stairs.
“Yeah,” I yawn and wipe the sleep from my eyes. “Never made it to the prom though.”
“I heard.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, Tara called looking for Haden and I told her that he and the boys were sleeping in the living room. She kept apologizing for ruining his night—is there something I should know?”
I sit down at the barstool and rest my head in my hands as I shake my head no. Of course, when I look up at her, she’s still waiting with that expectant mom look on her face.
“Later, when everyone’s gone,” I whisper, making sure no one hears me. “The guys are still in the living room?”
“Yeah, and one of them was snoring like a trucker,” she scoffs before taking a sip of her coffee.
“Been around lots of truckers, huh, Mom?” I raise a brow and watch her stifle a laugh.
“You know me,” she shrugs.
“Does Dad know about your trucker fetish?”
“He didn’t tell you that’s how we met?”
“I give up,” I laugh and stand up to get something to eat but she gives me a sly grin so I wait to see why.
“What?” she asks, maintaining her composure.
“You’re the one looking at me all crazy-eyed, so you tell me,” I say, mimicking her stance.
“Something came in the mail this morning.” She smiles and slides a large envelope over to me.
If I was tired, it’s gone now and replaced by the sudden rapid pounding in my chest. My hands are clammy and I feel too warm in my pajama shorts and tank. I look around to see if anyone else is up, but no one is. The entire future of my academic career is just inside this piece of paper, and as soon as I open it I’ll know whether I got into my first choice.
“Should I stand here and watch or are you some sort of freakish teenager that can touch the thing and know what it says?” She smirks.
“I can’t do this right now, not with everyone here,” I say with a slight shake in my voice. “I have to wait.”
“I don’t,” she answers, snatching the paper from me.
“Mother, give it back,” I say, louder than intended, and she laughs.
“You said you can’t do it, but I can.”
“So help me,” I warn as I narrow my eyes and smile because I know she has no intention of opening it.
“So help you what?” Haden asks, catching us both by surprise.
Mom shoves the envelope behind her back, slips it onto the counter, and shrugs. “Oh you know how she is,” Mom says. “Are you hungry, Haden?”
“I could eat,” he says, taking a seat in the barstool I just vacated.
“Me, too,” Joey says while stretching as he enters the kitchen.
“You kids have a seat and I’ll get it together,” Mom says.
I walk over to sit with the guys and slowly the rest of the crew enters and fills up the kitchen table. It’s loud and there are at least three different conversations going on at once. Dad strolls into the room and grabs the pot of coffee and pours a glass but stops mid-pour and sets it down.
“Laila,” he holds up the envelope, “what’s this? You didn’t open it yet?”
All eyes turn to me and heat stings my cheeks. I don’t want an audience, but it appears I have one.