The Boy on the Bridge

by Sam Mariano

  But as Anderson tugs Riley close and she numbly leans into him, I realize I don’t have time for that.

  If she sleeps with him because of what I’ve done, I’ll never forgive me, either.

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Riley

  Sara ditches me to ride to homecoming in a stretch limo with Valerie and her friends Saturday night.

  I feel a lot of ways about it. Hurt, most of all. Abandoned. Betrayed.

  But also curious.

  Will Hunter be in that limo? He’s obviously Valerie’s date to homecoming. He might’ve embarrassed her in the gym by turning his cheek, but that was before he realized Anderson and I were back together.

  After that, he kissed her right in front of me.

  Thinking about it still makes my stomach hurt.

  I don’t even want to go to the stupid dance, but it’s too late to back out. I bought the dress and shoes, and Anderson shows up with a corsage. He looks nice in a burgundy dress shirt and black slacks, but I still think I’m gonna break up with him again tonight.

  I know eventually I will have to move on and get over Hunter, but it won’t be with him. There’s no point stringing him along since I already know that.

  I also still haven’t gotten my period, and just in case I am pregnant, I would prefer for it not to look like that’s the reason we broke up. I want to be good and single by the time I start to show.

  What a thing to think about as I’m getting ready to leave for homecoming.

  “One more picture,” Mom insists, following us out on the front porch.

  I glance back at her. “You’ve taken enough.”

  “Maybe by the car,” she says, grasping at straws.

  I glance at Anderson’s silver Lexus. It’s a nice car, sure, but it’s not exactly a horse-drawn carriage. Looking back at Mom, I shake my head. “I have to draw a line somewhere. This is it. You’re cut off. You’ve taken enough pictures.”

  She pouts. “But you look so pretty!”

  “I promise to look pretty again sometime in the future, you can take more pictures of me then.”

  Mom shoots me a dirty look. “Bite your tongue, you always look pretty.”

  “We’re going to be late,” I tell her.

  “I should’ve volunteered to chaperone,” she says. “I could’ve taken sneaky pictures all night long. Maybe I should sneak in…”

  “Mom.”

  Ray reaches out, grabbing her by the hips and tugging her back against him. Securing his arms around her waist, he says, “Don’t worry, kiddo, I’ll make sure she behaves herself. You guys have fun.” He looks at Anderson, dead-eyed. “Just not too much fun.”

  I sigh dramatically, grabbing Anderson’s hand and hauling him toward the car. “God, you guys are so embarrassing.”

  “We love you,” Mom calls back. “Be safe. Have fun! Text me if you need anything.”

  Despite my manufactured annoyance, I can’t keep a delighted smile off my face as I drop into the passenger seat of Anderson’s car.

  My mom is nothing new, she has always been there being her crazy self, but having a father figure to go along with her? That’s a whole new experience. I don’t hate having a protective man around to mean-mug my boyfriends and keep Mom company while I’m gone.

  “Are you excited?” Anderson asks, noticing my smile as he starts the car.

  “For the dance? No.”

  “Oh.”

  “No offense,” I say quickly. “It’s just, I was already a little worried about getting a bucket of pig’s blood dumped on my head tonight, and now I’m on homecoming court. That’s starting to seem a lot less far-fetched.” I glance over at him. “If they call my name for queen and the gym doors start slamming shut, don’t be surprised.”

  Anderson frowns. “Huh?”

  I wait a second for it to click, but when he continues to stare at me like I’ve said something strange—well, stranger than what I actually said—I frown at him. “Carrie? You like Stephen King, how did you miss that reference?”

  “Oh. Right.” He shakes his head, checking the rearview before he starts to back out of the driveway. “Well, if you have secret telekinetic powers I don’t know about, make sure you use them to crush Hunter, not me.”

  I shake my head. “It wasn’t Hunter. He was as shocked as I was when they called my name. I think it was Valerie. On the face of it, she hates me, so why would she want me to get the glory of homecoming court? But that’s emotional and short-sighted. She’s smart enough to play the long game. I just don’t know what the long game is. It really might be pig’s blood. Maybe she’s a secret horror movie buff.”

  Anderson appears not to be the least bit interested in my theorizing. His tone verging on annoyed, he says, “I don’t think Valerie’s that bad. I think you want to think she is because she’s dating Hunter.”

  I blink at him. “Excuse me? She ostracized Sara for having epilepsy—that’s terrible person material, and it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with Hunter.”

  “And now she’s taking Sara to homecoming,” he points out. “Shit happens. People get over it and move on. Not you, I guess, but most people.”

  I do not appreciate his tone. His defense of Valerie Johnson is even more repellant. He knows by now how she treated me over the years, and I never did a thing to her.

  Well, I slept with Hunter at the party, but before that I hadn’t—and I didn’t know she was with Hunter that night. Even hating her, I wouldn’t have done that if I would’ve known. That was on Hunter, not me.

  Yet again, Anderson isn’t on my side, so I fold my hands on my lap and watch out the window rather than talk to him.

  When we get to the school, a lot of people are already there. As we make our way toward the gym, a few people congratulate Anderson on the team’s big win last night.

  The gymnasium is all set up for the dance, so it’s dark, but with colorful uplighting like we’re at a wedding.

  There’s a well-lit backdrop set up for pictures when we first walk in. HOCO is emblazoned on a sign in the middle.

  There’s a short line. I don’t want to talk to Anderson, so I look around while we wait.

  The homecoming dance isn’t as big as prom will be, but it’s still a pretty classy set-up. There’s food and drinks, and tables around the dance floor for people to sit at if they need a break.

  I spot Valerie in the crowd and my stomach drops. She looks stunning in a formfitting, low-cut, red sparkly gown with a slit up the thigh. Her blonde hair is styled in a fancy up-do, and she has a big grin on her face as she chats up a few people.

  Hunter is right by her side. He looks incredible, but bored. You can tell he’s much more at ease here than everyone else. We’re all dressed up and playing pretend tonight, but the casual way Hunter carries himself, I get the impression he probably spent time in more impressive environments than this when he was in Italy and he doesn’t see what all the fuss is about.

  The suit he’s wearing fits him like a glove. It’s black with red accents, and it makes me feel stupid for even thinking Anderson looked nice earlier.

  Anderson looks like he’s going to church with his grandma. Hunter looks like he’s waiting for the GQ photographer to show up so he can do the shoot and get the fuck out of here.

  I also want to get the fuck out of here. I wish I could go with him.

  Shaking off that errant thought, I try to shift my focus back on what I’m doing, but there’s no point. I don’t want to get my photo taken with Anderson. I wish Sara were here like we planned.

  Sara.

  She came with Valerie, so I glance back over there, but I don’t see her with Hunter and Valerie. There are so many people crowded around them, maybe I’m just missing her in the crowd, but the photographer says, “Next,” so I don’t have time to check more thoroughly.

  Our pose feels stiff. It’s probably my fault. I’m mad at Anderson and I don’t want his arms around me, so I can’t muster much of a smile.

  I’m alre
ady miserable and we just got here.

  I shouldn’t have come tonight. I knew it would be a bad time. At least then Anderson might have asked someone else and maybe he would’ve had a better time.

  The jerk.

  “Are you thirsty?” he asks.

  Why don’t you go ask Valerie?

  Ugh, I’m grumpy.

  Needing to get away from him, I turn around and tell him, “I’m gonna go see if I can find Sara.”

  “All right. I’ll catch up with my friends, then. Come find me when you’re done.”

  I nod and veer off into the crowd.

  As soon as I’m a few feet away from him, I feel like I can breathe again. I’m still not excited to be here, but the claustrophobic squeezing has let up.

  Unfortunately, since Sara came with Valerie and her crew, finding her means approaching them.

  I try to keep my distance and check the perimeter instead of throwing myself right in front of their crosshairs, but Hunter notices me. I can tell by the slight shift in his posture, then he looks at me, his eyes dark, and my stomach does a somersault.

  Heat creeps up my neck. I feel cornered even though he’s a good 10 feet away. Several people stand between us, but they seem to disappear when he looks at me. He doesn’t look away, either. Makes it hard to breathe.

  I step behind someone tall and linger there for a moment since Hunter can’t stare at me if he can’t see me. When I peek past the tall guy a few seconds later, Hunter’s focus has shifted back to his audience. His hand has slid around Valerie’s waist, too.

  Asshole.

  I know he’s doing it for my benefit, but it still stings.

  I finally find Sara in the crowd. She’s standing alone on the fringes of Valerie’s crew, smiling in their general direction as if she’s part of whatever conversation they’re having, but she’s an observer.

  I’m not even sure what the reception will be like, but I approach her, anyway. “Hey.”

  Her gaze snaps to me as if in surprise. “Hey.”

  I force a smile and glance around. “Homecoming. It’s loud.”

  She nods solemnly. “I think that’s the tagline they painted on the banners.”

  “If not, it should be next year. I’ll let them have that creative nugget for free.”

  “Very philanthropic of you.”

  “You know me, always supporting education.” I miss a beat. “How have you been? We haven’t talked much lately.”

  “Yeah, things have been crazy.” She looks down, fidgeting with the clutch purse she brought with her. “I’ve been good. How about you?”

  “Pretty much the same. No period yet. I’m pretty sure it’s been 500 days, so…”

  “Yikes.” Her gaze shifts to Hunter. “Have you told your baby daddy yet?”

  I shake my head. I’m tempted to join her in looking at the handsome life-ruiner, but I don’t want him to catch me. “So, you rode here with them, right? How was that?”

  “Good. Weird,” she says, frowning. “It’s like they’re adults. They had champagne in the limo. Champagne. And nobody said anything.”

  I smile faintly. “I don’t think the standard rules apply to the beautiful and the privileged. Did Wally ride with them?”

  Her face flushes and she nods, looking back at me. “He sat right by me.”

  “No way,” I say, my eyes widening with excitement for her. I think he’s stupid, but she likes him, so I’m happy for her. Still a bit worried, but I don’t want to kill her buzz.

  She grins and nods. “Yeah. He smells so good. How do boys smell so good?”

  “Well, I’m glad you had fun.”

  “I did,” she agrees. “There was almost a catfight, though. Valerie hasn’t spoken to Melanie Taggart since we got out of the limo.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “Your baby daddy. Melanie sat on the other side of him and she had the audacity to touch his thigh. Valerie caught her, and she’s understandably more on edge about stuff like that since Hunter…” She stops, realizing what she’s about to say. “Well, since he slept with you.”

  I attempt a smile, but it’s brittle. “Right.”

  Sara shoots me an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

  I shrug wordlessly and glance at Hunter over my shoulder. We’re standing behind him, so he doesn’t catch me.

  “He doesn’t act like her boyfriend,” Sara blurts.

  My gaze drifts back to Sara.

  “He’s not affectionate with her at all,” she goes on, her voice low, but loud enough for me to hear. “He doesn’t kiss her or touch her. He seems completely disinterested in her. You see the dress she’s wearing tonight, right? He didn’t even check her out. I checked her out. Most boyfriends wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off their girlfriend in a dress like that, but Hunter seemed about as interested as he would’ve been if Wally wore it.”

  As much as I appreciate what she’s trying to do, the last thing I want to do is talk about Hunter and Valerie. The fact that there is a Hunter and Valerie makes me want to puke.

  I look up at Sara, intending to steer the conversation into gentler waters, but when I do, I can see I’ve lost her attention. Her gaze is fixed on a spot behind me with the dopey, semi-paralyzed look I only ever see on her face when she’s looking at Wally.

  Then I hear his voice behind me. “Wanna dance?”

  A helpless grin splits Sara’s face and she nods. “I’ll catch up with you later, Riley,” she says, walking toward him as if in a trance.

  I back out of her way and offer a little smile. “All right. Have fun.”

  I glance at Wally, hoping to see some indication of affection on his face. If he’s feeling anything but vague boredom, I can’t tell. It makes me nervous.

  On instinct, I look back toward Valerie as Wally and Sara make their way to the dance floor.

  She’s looking at me, too. With a smug little smile, she waves at me.

  I roll my eyes and walk off.

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Riley

  The student body is gathered around the stage as the principal dawdles, talking about our team’s victory against the rival school and a bunch of other crap no one cares about.

  Well, all of it is probably crap some of them don’t care about, but even the ones who don’t care about homecoming court are probably impatient to get the music playing again, and that can’t happen until after these announcements.

  Finally, the principal gets to the part we’ve all been waiting for.

  He asks homecoming court to gather in front of the stage. I’ve never come to homecoming before, so I didn’t realize we would all have to be around each other, even if some of us didn’t make the final cut.

  Reluctantly, I wander over to stand with Anderson at the end of the line. Once we’re all there, the principal asks the crowd to give us a hand.

  “All right, ladies and gentlemen, now for the part you have all been waiting for!”

  There are some cheers of agreement from the crowd.

  “Let’s get our first couple on stage. Your Duke and Duchess, Melina Eggers and Wally Kazinsky!”

  Everybody cheers as Melina and Wally step out of line and head up on the stage to get their sashes.

  “That’s right, let’s give them a round of applause.” He looks over at them with a big smile. “Congratulations, guys.”

  They smile and wave, thanking the audience for the votes, but you can tell they’re not that excited to be third place.

  “All right,” the principal says, theatrically opening the next envelope. “And for our homecoming prince and princess, let’s have a round of applause for Riley Bishop and Anderson Milner!”

  What?

  I’m too stunned to move, so Anderson grabs my wrist and lightly drags me toward the stairs leading to the stage.

  “Wait,” I say, but the crowd is too loud for him to hear me. “I don’t want to—”

  He hauls me up on stage with him, anyway. My face burns with so many eyes
on me. They’re clapping this time, but probably only because they were told to—or maybe because they like Anderson, I don’t know.

  I shuffle up behind him and turn around to face the crowd, but my stomach feels sick.

  The Carrie stuff began as a joke, but I don’t understand why I’m up here now unless it’s for a terrible reason. There’s no way in hell the student body voted me homecoming princess. There might be a sect of people who hate Valerie because of her mean girl bullshit, who would cheer at someone knocking her down a peg or two, even if it was by sleeping with her boyfriend. But that sect would be small, a minority, not enough people to vote me onto homecoming court—let alone to secure me a crown.

  I swallow nervously as Lyndsay Edwards comes at me with a tiara and a sash. She beams as she places the tiara on my head, then she carefully puts the sash around me so as not to mess up my hair.

  I look down, experiencing a moment of surreality as I gaze at the crimson sash labeling me homecoming princess.

  I look back up, intending to glance at the crowd, but my gaze is caught on Hunter. He’s turned around, watching me with hungry eyes. I think I even see a glint of pride.

  Even though I don’t believe he’s behind this, I get a flashback from middle school. I remember him wanting to buy me new clothes so that his shallow friends would accept me.

  The principal addresses the crowd again. “Okay, now for the moment you’ve really been waiting for. Can I get a drum roll, please?”

  The crowd cheers, and people start beating their palms against their thighs.

  “Your homecoming queen and homecoming king are none other than... Valerie Johnson and Hunter Maxwell!”

  The crowd goes wild. Hunter turns around, smiling and thanking everybody. Valerie takes his hand and hauls him toward the stage with her.

  My stomach twists painfully at the sight, and I hope it doesn’t show on my face.

  Valerie smiles at me, her eyes cold as she climbs the stairs to the stage. Her expression warms back up as she turns around, still holding Hunter’s hand, to thank her royal subjects. She feigns modesty and waves, throwing kisses and thank yous like they’re candy at a parade.