I'll Be the One

by Hazel James

  Several minutes later, we round the corner and I see the performing arts center.

  “You’re taking me to see a show?”

  “Maybe.” Her eyes light up and she bites her bottom lip. Just like she did a few hours ago underneath me when she officially welcomed me back. Christ, now I’m starting to get hard again.

  “Who are we seeing?” I ask, adjusting myself slightly.

  “I’m not telling you yet. In fact, close your eyes. I’ll guide you the rest of the way.” She loops her left arm in mine.

  “You’re really milking this, aren’t you?” I try to peek, but judging by the whack to my chest, I guess she was watching for that.

  “Absolutely. I only get one shot at this and I want to capture the moment when you realize who’s performing.”

  We stumble through the parking lot and up a few flights of stairs before she pushes me through a set of doors.

  “Okay, on the count of three, open your eyes and look straight in front of you.”

  On cue, I do as I’m told and see a concert poster staring back at me. Holy shit!

  “You took me to see Lake Street Dive?” My voice shoots up at least an octave, and I have to fight against the happy dance that’s begging to come out.

  “Happy birthday!” she squeals, taking a picture. “Are you excited?”

  “Dude, my inner school girl is high-fiving herself so hard right now.” I take Rachel in my arms and press a kiss against the side of her head. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me. But you’re still not getting your present until tomorrow.”

  “That’s fine,” she laughs. “Let’s go get our seats.”

  What she didn’t tell me was that they’re front row seats. She’s officially the best girlfriend on the planet. Also, the necklace I got her seems so small in comparison.

  An hour later, the band walks on stage and the crowd goes nuts. What’s funny is the extreme range of ages. The couple on my right look to be in their 60s and the group of guys behind us are all college-aged. The best part about the night is that Rachael Price sounds even better in person, which I didn’t know was possible. I find myself mesmerized by her voice.

  “Did I tell you thank you for this? Because it’s the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” I say into Rachel’s ear over the noise from the crowd. She grins back at me like it’s no big deal.

  “Before we go into our next song, I’d like to take a minute and deliver a message,” Rachael says. My Rachel puts a death grip on my left arm. What the hell? “In the past month, a few people have blown up our social media accounts.” Now Ray is squealing and jumping up and down.

  “Dude, what’s going on?” I ask.

  “It seems one of my biggest fans has a birthday tomorrow. Are Rachel and James here?”

  No.

  Fucking.

  Way.

  Ray shouts waves both arms like a lunatic, but I’m too stunned to move.

  “What have you done?” I ask in disbelief.

  “Front and center. Excellent,” Rachael says, pointing at us. “Bridget, Mike, McDuck, and I hope you have a very happy birthday!” With that, the band launches into the Happy Birthday song, and the entire crowd joins in.

  This might be the best thirty seconds of my life.

  “Holy fuck. I can’t believe you did that. I can die a happy man now,” I say, clutching my heart. I realize she recorded the whole thing on her phone, but I don’t care. My head is so far beyond cloud nine that I’ll probably need help remembering the moment tomorrow.

  “Did it hurt?” Avery asks, as Mandy brings a box of pizza to the table. Fletcher and I just got done with our last open mic night before prom, and we’re starving. This large pepperoni and bacon doesn’t stand a chance against us.

  “Not really. It felt more like a burning bee sting,” Ray responds, running her fingers over the infinity sign inked on the inside of her left wrist. Since we’re officially eighteen now, we each got a tattoo this afternoon. Rachel made a comment about finishing all of her bucket list items since we checked off the Lake Street Dive concert last night. We need to brainstorm some more.

  “What’d you get, dude?” Fletcher asks in between bites of pizza. I lift my T-shirt sleeve and show them the R on the inside of my left bicep.

  “Are you nuts?” Avery shrieks. “What happens if y’all break up?”

  “Then I guess I better find another girl whose name starts with R,” I say, winking at Rachel. “Let’s see. Rebecca. Renee. Rosario. Hmmm. That one sounds kind of exotic.” I rub my chin in mock thought, before lifting another slice of pizza from the box.

  “I don’t plan on going anywhere, so I think you’re safe,” Rachel says. “I just hope some Florida beach bimbo doesn’t woo you away.” She tries to play off the remark by making a silly face, but I know she’s still a little insecure about me being so far away.

  “Well, there was a girl from my seventh period class that kept making googly eyes at me last week, but I took care of that.”

  “Did you tell her you already had a girlfriend?” Avery asks.

  “Hell, no. That’s like issuing a challenge. I thought of… another way that will hopefully keep me off of every girl’s radar.”

  “Which was…?” Rachel asks.

  In my most nonchalant voice, I say, “I told her I was gay and that if she didn’t have a big, thick penis, she was really wasting her time.”

  “You did NOT!” Rachel shouts before dissolving into a fit of giggles. Avery, Fletcher, and I follow suit. When Mandy walks back to our table, we’re all struggling to breathe.

  “What in the Sam Hill is goin’ on over here?” She eyes us like we’re high on something.

  “James is giving us lessons on how to win over the male population at his new school,” Fletcher eeks out between bouts of laughter.

  “Funny you should mention that,” I say. “The next morning in P.E., some kid kept giving me the eye in the locker room. It was really creepy.” I shudder at thought.

  “You brought that on yourself, dude. Looks like you caused more problems than you solved,” Fletcher says.

  “Speaking of how much money we made tonight,” Mandy says, in an obvious attempt at changing the subject, “with tonight’s totals, we’re at one thousand two hundred and thirty bucks. That’s more than enough to do a post-prom party here for about twenty-five guests, and then we’ll have some left over. How do y’all feel about raffling off a Sweet Pea scholarship?”

  “That’s actually a pretty cool idea, Mom,” Avery says. “That could be the last thing we do before the party ends. I guess we should go over the invite list, huh? Does anyone have any paper?”

  “I’ve got some in my purse.” Ray opens the zipper, removes a small spiral-bound notepad and pen and passes it to Avery. “Here,” she says, handing me my phone, which is vibrating from an incoming call. I’d put my phone on silent and tucked it inside her purse before our set began, but forgot to get it back afterward. One glance at the screen has my stomach dropping to my toes.

  “Shit.”

  I try to swipe to answer Mom’s call, but it quits ringing before I can. With shaky hands, I manage to unlock the screen and see I missed three other calls and four text messages.

  Mom: River, call me ASAP.

  Mom: Where are you?

  Mom: Why are you not answering?

  Mom: CALL ME NOW.

  I use one hand to grab Rachel’s and use the other to dial Mom. She answers on the first ring.

  “Mom, what’s going on?” I ask, even though I already know.

  “Honey, I’m sorry. I’m s-so sorry,” she says between sobs. “Gran is g-gone.”

  Her words punch me in the gut. Gran’s health steadily declined once we got to Florida, but I thought she’d be okay until I got back. I offered to stay instead of coming up here for Spring Break. She told me I wasn’t allowed to quit living my life because hers was coming to an end. Then she threatened to put me on diaper duty if I didn’t go to North
Carolina to see my woman. That was the last thing she said to me. I kissed her on the cheek and left for the airport right after that.

  “R-river, are y-you there?”

  “Yeah,” I manage to squeak out. Fletcher and Avery exchange worried glances with Rachel, who squeezes my hand harder. “I’m here, Mom. Do you need me to come home?” Rachel gasps, and her free hand flies to her mouth as she figures out what’s going on.

  “No. She’ll be c-cremated in a c-couple of d-days. W-we’ll spread her ashes a-after you come b-back.”

  “Okay. Thanks for telling me,” I say around a massive lump in my throat. I end the call, lay my head on top of my arm on the table and let the sobs overtake me. I can’t believe this woman, one of the few constants I had in my life, won’t be waiting for me when I fly back to Florida. What’s even weirder is that I had no idea that today was her day. No flashes. No memories. Nothing. I’m sort of glad though. Had I known, there’s no way I would have come—diaper duty or not. Ray pulls me into her arms, and together we weep for our biggest champion and the huge hole she’s leaving in our lives.

  Several minutes later, I pull away and grab a stack of napkins from the dispenser on the table, keeping a few for myself and passing the rest to Ray.

  “Sorry, guys,” I say, blowing my nose. “I didn’t mean to get so emotional. I knew she was sick and wasn’t going to last much longer, but I guess that still doesn’t prepare you for actually hearing the words.”

  “Don’t apologize, James. We all loved Gran,” Avery says, wiping her own eyes.

  “Dude. She’s probably giving St. Peter a run for his money,” Fletcher says, laughing softly. “I can hear her now—‘My name is Pearl, you buffoon! Let me past my gate!’”

  “Or fussing about where her chef’s kitchen is so she can start making some more pies,” Ray adds with a small smile.

  We share more stories about Gran and make the invite list for the post-prom bash, which the girls are calling “Party at the Pea,” while Fletcher and I finish the last of the pizza. When we’re done, we head to the front door and wait for Mandy to lock up. I grab Ray’s hand as we cross the parking lot. She’s riding home with Avery since I’m staying at Fletcher’s, so we have to say our goodbyes here. Lame.

  “What the hell is this?” Avery asks, pulling a folded white piece of paper from her windshield.

  “Really? Why doesn’t this asshole get the hint?”

  “Mouth, Avery,” Mandy says with a raised eyebrow.

  “Seriously, Mom. I’m so over this seventh grade sh—stuff.” She wads up the paper and walks it to the trash can in front of the restaurant. My gut churns as I turn in a complete circle to scan the parking lot. Nothing seems out of place, but that doesn’t stop my mind from flashing to the man I saw across the sidewalk in New York City.

  “You okay?” Rachel asks, tugging on my arm.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I rub the back of my neck to smooth down the hairs that are standing on end. I really, really don’t like this.

  “God, I’ve missed you.” I drop my carry-on at my feet to catch Rachel as she jumps in my arms, which earns a series of “Awws” from the people standing nearby. Our mouths collide, making up for the three weeks we’ve been apart. It takes me a few minutes, but I manage to remember that we’re in baggage claim and not a bedroom. “Easy killer, I don’t wanna jump you in an airport,” I say with a laugh against Ray’s cheek. “Let’s grab my stuff and see about an early check-in.” Prom’s at a ritzy hotel in Durham. Mom sprung for a room there as an early graduation present. Since it won’t be our first time, I’m completely okay with spending prom night with Ray, especially since this will be the last night I have with her until graduation.

  “I need to remember to thank her. Hopefully I can keep the blushing to a minimum,” Rachel says.

  “You’re really cute when you’re embarrassed, you know that?” I give her a quick kiss on the nose as my suitcase drops onto the baggage carousel. I pick it up and walk out the door marked “Short Term Parking.” I took the earliest flight I could today to maximize the time I have with Rachel. I fly out tomorrow at three in the afternoon.

  “How do you like the new vet’s office?” she asks as we make our way to her car.

  “It’s pretty cool. Dr. Folsom is gonna give me a letter of recommendation for school. I called Dr. Brooks last week and she said she’d love to have me back at the animal hospital once I move back up after graduation.”

  “So it looks like I’ll be the one married to the hot veterinarian instead of the hot firefighter,” Rays says teasingly.

  “Yup.” I lift my bags into her trunk and settle into the passenger seat. “Did you remember to bring those notes?”

  “They’re in the glove box.” Rachel punches the hotel address into the GPS and backs out of the parking space.

  “So they stopped a week ago?” I flip through the stack of nine messages. All of the messages are harmless, so it’s nothing I can take to the police. Still, that uneasy feeling is simmering away in my gut. I’d hoped that by touching the notes, I’d get a flash of something worthwhile, but it didn’t work. I’m still just as clueless as I was before.

  “And Avery put tape on the vents of her locker?”

  “Yeah, she got some ‘Do Not Enter’ duct tape and wrote ‘NOT INTERESTED.’ The messages stopped after that.”

  “Hmmm. Well, enough of that.” I return the messages to the glove box and take Rachel’s hand. “What’s the plan for the rest of the day?”

  “Avery’s doing hair and makeup at four, then y’all will pick us up at her house. Mom and Dad will be there to take pictures. Prom’s in the Holden Ballroom from six to ten. We’re doing Party at the Pea from ten to midnight.”

  I glance at my watch. It’s only eleven thirty in the morning.

  “So that means we have four and a half hours to kill.”

  “Yeah, did you have anything particular in mind?” Her eyes never leave the road, but her cheeks flush slightly and she licks her lips.

  Busted.

  “Actually I did.”

  I dropped Ray off at Avery’s house right at four then went to Fletcher’s to get dressed. An hour and a half later, I’m back on her front porch. When Mandy opens the door, I find myself unable to breathe. Rachel’s dress is done in varying shades of blue, and her hair’s pulled up in a messy bun with a bunch of curls hanging down. She looks like a really sexy mermaid. I’ve never seen her wear makeup like this either. Her eyes are… wow. And her lips, which a few hours ago were all over me, are now covered in a shimmery gloss. She looks like she’s ready for a night at the Oscars, not prom.

  “Holy shit.”

  “Mouth, James,” Mandy cautions. “But you’re right.” Her smile lets me know she’s forgiven me for my language. She opens the door wider so Fletcher and I can pass through. His tongue is practically hanging out as he takes in Avery’s bright red dress. I have to admit—she’s smokin’ hot too. The girls look at each other and giggle, then do a slow spin so we can see the rest of their dresses.

  “Did you really make these?” I ask.

  “Did you doubt my abilities?” Avery counters with one hand on her hip and an eyebrow lifted.

  “No, I just didn’t know you were this… good. These dresses look like they’re off the rack of some fancy store.”

  “Nice recovery, James.”

  “Anyway. Y’all both look beautiful. And Fletcher and I have something for you.” The first box is small. We each hand them over, and the girls bust out laughing when they open them.

  “Ring pops? Why am I not surprised?” Rachel giggles as she slips it on her finger. We made sure to color-coordinate with their dresses, which I was pretty proud of. Fletcher helps Avery put hers on while Rachel’s dad clicks away from the side of the living room.

  “Okay, now for your real gift,” Fletch says. “Since the dresses were handmade, we decided to skip the corsages and do something else that’s handmade. Plus, I know you hate flowers, Avery.” />
  “Finally, someone who gets me!” she laughs.

  The girls open the second box and share matching gasps. Nestled inside each box is a bracelet made out of guitar strings and a pick. Ray’s pick is engraved with J + R and Avery’s says F + A.

  “This is perfect!” Avery exclaims.

  “I love it so much. Thank you!” Rachel squeals. Fletcher and I fasten the bracelets and pose for the obligatory prom photos. Ray’s dad is going over the list of do’s and don’ts when the doorbell rings.

  My heart starts galloping in my chest as I glance around at everyone in the living room. I’m the closest to the door, so I open it and see Derrick standing on the front steps wearing the same aviator sunglasses I saw that day in Battery Park. He looks so different from the day he came into the Pea. Maybe it’s because he’s wearing a tuxedo instead of baggy pants. His hair is shorter, too. Every inch of my body is on alert. When he tries to push past me, I shift to the right to block the door.

  “Can I help you?” I ask with as much threat in my voice as I can muster.

  “No, but she can,” he says, pointing at a shocked Avery.

  “What the HELL are you doing here?” Avery shouts. For once, Mandy doesn’t give her a language warning.

  “Picking my date up for the prom.” He smiles and gestures to the white limo on the street in front of the house. “Come on, babe.”

  “Babe? What the actual fuck, Derrick? I have no idea why you’re here or why you think I’d be willing to go anywhere with you. We’re over. We’ve been over. You’re not even a blip on my radar. If you were on life support, I’d unplug you to charge my phone. What part of that can you not get through your thick skull?”

  It’s been a while since I’ve seen Avery fired up. I forgot how much she scares me. Derrick doesn’t look the slightest bit fazed by her words.

  “You don’t mean that. You just need to remember how good we were together. That’s what all my notes were for. To help you remember.” He holds up a clear plastic container with a corsage made of red roses.