Stir Me Up

by Sabrina Elkins

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I spend all of spring break working on dishes that focus around things like fresh peas, asparagus and lamb. Then, when school starts up again, prom is all anyone can talk about. We’re having a Roaring Twenties-themed prom, so Taryn and I spend weeks suffering over what to wear and ultimately settle on ordering flapper-style dresses online. She’s going with Derek, whom she dated back in tenth grade. She claims they’re going as friends, but I’m fairly sure Taryn’s secretly hoping for a bit more.

  “You have a tiny little nose,” Estella comments as she scrutinizes me, makeup brush in hand, when the big day finally arrives.

  “Uhh, thank you?” I’m glad she’s being genuinely friendly with me again.

  “There, what do you think?”

  I turn and look in the mirror. She’s used bronzer on my cheeks, and it highlights my cheekbones a little. Which is nice. “I like it,” I say, grinning. “Keep going.”

  “Okay, turn around.” She takes out a lip pencil. I’ve already had my nails done, which is a very rare treat, and my hair as well.

  “No, those don’t work on me,” I protest. “My upper lip is the wrong shape.”

  “It’s full, that’s a good thing.”

  “Seriously, I’ll look like a clown. Just do lip gloss.”

  “That won’t last. Lipstick first.”

  Huh. Fine. I let her put the lipstick underneath first.

  “Good,” she says. “You’re ready. Perfume on?”

  “Uh-oh.” I go back into the bathroom to douse myself and the doorbell rings.

  Oh.

  My.

  GOD.

  Julian is in full Marine dress. He’s in uniform.

  My eyes take in the chest full of medals, the navy-blue jacket, the sky-blue pants with the red stripe. I turn away and try to collect myself. And not faint.

  “You look sensational, Cami.” He’s come up behind me.

  “Huh.” I’m still with my back to him. He takes my arm and reaches around and slips a corsage on my wrist—white roses around a white orchid.

  “Do you mind the uniform?” he asks. “I thought of renting a tux, but Estella said this would be fine.”

  “Uhh...” I say, struck dumb. “Uh-huh...”

  “Do you want to turn around?”

  I turn and face him. Standing there. In uniform.

  Okay.

  I can’t take this.

  “Ach.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. You just look so hot I think I may pass out.”

  A smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “You’re dazzling, too. Don’t turn around again.”

  I give a nervous laugh. “Thanks. And thanks for doing this for me tonight.”

  “You mean enduring a dorky prom for you?” he says with a bigger smile. “Sure.”

  “Pictures,” Estella says, camera in hand. Thankfully, Estella seems to have made peace with us being a couple. She’s just upset Julian is no longer in the same house as her. Dad, on the other hand, has barely accepted us. Case in point—he’s at work tonight. Yes, he’s missing this. For work.

  Julian keeps his arm around me as we head over to the tree out front.

  “I still smile like a dope,” I remind him as he puts his arm around me.

  “Just as long as you’re my dope.”

  I smile and Estella starts snapping pictures.

  * * *

  The prom is being held at a large inn out near Lake Spofford.

  “CAMI!” Taryn calls out, like we haven’t just seen each other the day before. She looks fantastic, of course.

  “Hey, beautiful,” I cry.

  Taryn smiles at Julian and then gapes at me, eyes wide. “Hey, yourself.”

  “Hi, Derek, this is Julian.”

  “‘Bohemian Rhapsody,’” Derek says. “I remember. How’s it going?”

  “Good. Cami said you were excellent in Les Mis, by the way.”

  “Awesome. Thanks.”

  Never said a word to him about Derek or anyone else. But okay. Julian winks at me and we head over to the dining tent. Jazz music is piped into the outside area during dinner. The water is dark and the grass spreads out long between the tent and the house. I can’t taste the dinner. All I can do is just look at Julian in the lights from the tent and the little votives on the tables, which are all decorated in black and white. Because he’s in uniform, Julian is getting a fair amount of attention—jealous looks from guys, riveted ones from girls.

  “Mom booked my plane ticket,” Taryn says. “I leave for Santa Barbara in July.”

  “Wow. That’s great! It’s really happening then.”

  “Yeah, it’s really happening. I even got the script.”

  “My God, Taryn!”

  “I know,” she says with a smile. She squeezes my hand. “So, you told Estella you’d be staying at my place tonight?”

  “Yep,” I say with a grin.

  “That’s funny. Because I told my folks I’d be staying with you.”

  I laugh, glance at Derek and secretly hope she doesn’t get hurt by this—hooking back up with an ex-boyfriend on prom night.

  Probably sensing my concern, Taryn turns her back to me to give Derek a dazzling smile.

  Okay, fine, Taryn. The four of us skip dessert and head into the main room where the door is set up like a speakeasy.

  “Password?” we’re asked.

  “Colonels Rule,” I say. Colonels are our school mascot. We’re allowed in.

  Several guys on student council are dressed as gangsters. There are life-sized cutouts of flappers and old jazz musicians. The music is all old stuff—Cole Porter, jazz and swing. I hug all the girls I know and then turn to Julian.

  “Let’s grab a drink,” he says, and he steers me to the bar. This itself is nice, just the not having any crutches around as we walk. The slight hitch in Julian’s step is barely noticeable anymore. We get some water and the real music starts with a live cover band. “Want to dance?” he asks.

  “Sure.” Can he dance? I wonder.

  We go out to the dance floor. He’s careful, I notice, to not move his legs much when he dances, but still he looks so good. Seeing him dance at all, even a little bit like this, without so much as a cane is just phenomenal. I can’t stop smiling watching him.

  “What?” he asks.

  “You,” I say.

  He takes me into his arms just as a slow song starts. “I’m crazy about you,” he whispers against my ear.

  The words sink through me. I lace my arms around his neck, rest my head against him.

  “I’d have to be, if I’m willing to endure this for you,” he kids.

  “I’d step on your toes, but that would be too mean.”

  “That’s okay, there are only five left, but go ahead. Step on them.”

  “Oh, poor you with only five toes.”

  “Better than you with ten fat piggy toes.”

  “I do not have piggy toes!”

  “Shhh...lower your voice. This is a pivotal moment. The big slow dance at prom.”

  “I’m glad you’re taking this so seriously.”

  “Oh, I am. Do you know how many of these girls will lose their virginity tonight? And just think, this is where it all starts.”

  I’m so glad, I realize, that I shared this moment with Julian, though I do hope Luke is happy and with someone else now. “On that note, let’s go get some air.”

  He grins, and we head outside.

  There’s a cool breeze coming off the lake outside. The lawn is aglow from the lights in the dining tent. There are also lamps in the backyard between the house and the water. We head down to the edges of sand near the shoreline. There are little sloops bobbing around out there, houses and trees off in the distance.

  Julian comes up behind me and gathers me in so my back is against his chest. I push more tightly against him and close my eyes. I can hear the music leaking through the walls and out the doorways, the pounding bass and pulsing rhythm. Jul
ian smells like cologne and the water smells like summers at the lake and his body is large and strong against me; his lips press into the side of my neck and they’re soft and warm. “You’re shivering,” he says. “Should we go in?”

  “No, not yet.” I turn to look at the house, the tent and the lights. There are certain moments in time you know you’ll always remember. The first time Julian kissed me. The first time we had sex. But this one’s different. It’s a milestone and so I can see it as it’s happening, as my heart feels itself teetering on the verge of some great unknown future. With this guy, without him, I don’t know. He won’t talk about the ordeal he’s been through, either in the war or over the last few months. He won’t tell me where he’s headed, and I don’t know where I’m headed, either. All I know is I’ll remember this night—me in his arms and the lake behind me, the dance up there waiting, and the music filtering down to us. “Dance with me?” I ask. And he does. Right there on the sand.

  * * *

  Eventually, we make it back to Brandon and Claire’s. We’re together all night for the second time ever—so nice. Then, early the next morning, I open my eyes and shake Julian. Because I just had a crazy ridiculous and incredibly vivid dream of me sleeping on a train with a map in my hands.

  “Julian!”

  “Hmm...”

  “I think I know what I want to do! I think I’ve figured it out!”

  He lifts his head a little. “Oh yeah?”

  “I need to talk to Dad—I’ll need his help for sure. I’m sure he’ll help me. I’ll have to beg him, though. He’ll have to see there’s a purpose in it somewhere.”

  “Move this,” he says. He shifts me around so he can rest his head on my stomach.

  “I should have thought of this months ago. Now, there’s not much time. Plus, Dad’ll think it’s stupid and selfish and crazy.”

  “Sounds perfect,” he says with a yawn. “Go for it.”

  “It’s not permanent. I mean it’s not long term. Is that okay? If I’m not sure yet about more than, say, a year?”

  “Sounds fine.”

  “What are you going to do? Please tell me.”

  “Sleep.”

  “Julian!”

  “Nope. We stick to the plan. Pillow.”

  “I’m not a pillow.”

  “Yes, you are. A noisy one.”

  I run my fingers through his hair and keep quiet.

  An hour later, I can’t stand it anymore. I slip away from him.

  “Dad,” I whisper into my cell. “I figured out what I want to do next year.”

  “How was your dance?”

  “Good. Dad, did you hear me? I know what I want to do.”

  “What is it?”

  “I can’t tell you now. But I’ll need your help to set it all up. It’s just for the one year. I’m still working on what I’ll do after that. But would you help me, you know, arrange it all?”

  “If it’s something I think makes sense for you.”

  “I think it makes sense.”

  “Then I’ll help you. What is the idea?”

  “I’ll tell you when I get home.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Soon.”

  “Good,” he says. “I’ll speak to you then. About this mystery plan of yours.”

  “Okay, great! Merci, Papa!”

  “Now she uses the French.” He hangs up.

  He’ll help me. Hee!

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Last semester of senior year is like a time that wasn’t—no homework, few tests you have to actually study for, and the questions on the English final are like, “What character that you read about this year did you relate to the most, and why?” Come on. Be real. At least pretend to make it a slight challenge.

  Econ, my last final exam probably ever, actually is a challenge and the one exception because it covers about a hundred complicated vocab words. I hang out for a few hours after I turn it in, so I can hear the last bell ring on the last day of school. Seniors fly out into the halls and pour out of doorways—basically going completely crazy.

  Half the senior class is going over to this guy Troy Jetter’s house because he has a zip line that goes over a steep ravine. I’m not all that into zip lines, but I go anyway with Taryn and hang out there for a few hours, then I excuse myself and head over to Brandon and Claire’s.

  To my surprise, instead of buzzing me up, Claire says she’s coming down. “Hi!” she says. “The guys are playing basketball. Want to go watch with me?”

  “Sure.” We start heading to a nearby park. Julian has recently gotten his permanent leg, a far better one than the temporary mechanical one he’s been using up until now. The new one has a microprocessor in it—a computer that helps level his stride. I’m sure he’s out on the courts because of this. He must be dying to try it. I just hope he doesn’t hurt himself. Something like worry must pass over my face, because suddenly Claire pats my arm.

  “They promised they’d take it easy,” she says, reading my mind.

  It would be good if they did actually do this, but as soon as we reach the basketball court, I can see it’s not the case. For one thing, Julian and Brandon aren’t alone, they’re in the midst of a game of three-on-three. And for another, these guys seem to mean business; they’re all covered in sweat and there’s plenty of jostling and bumping going on.

  As we approach, Julian’s teammate tries to pass him the ball, but the guy guarding Julian tries to intercept it and knocks him over. My breath catches as Julian falls.

  Brandon eyes the guy.

  “Hey man,” the guy says extending Julian his hand. “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” Julian accepts the guy’s help up and they’re back at it again.

  Okay, I’m so worried he’ll seriously hurt himself, I’m starting to feel queasy. But it’s not like I’m going to just jump in there and make him stop. For one thing, he looks happy. And for another, he’s in shorts. It’s the first time I’ve seen Julian ever wear shorts out in the open like this. The shorts he’s wearing are so long you can’t see his half leg at all. All you see is a really cool-looking robot leg with a sneaker-clad foot at the end.

  “They’re looking out for him,” Claire says.

  As I watch more carefully, I notice she’s right. Julian isn’t running up to half-court like the other guys. He’s hanging back, staying in the middle of the court most of the time, and he doesn’t do much shooting. In fact, all the other guys are taking shots except him. Because of this, the guy who’s supposed to be guarding Julian is playing nowhere near him—so Julian is passed the ball. He’s wide open. “Shoot it! Shoot it!” Brandon yells. Julian does, and to his great surprise, it goes in. The cheerleaders—that would be Claire and me—try not to go completely wild. Brandon slaps Julian five.

  “Brandon is the one who taught Julian how to play basketball,” Claire says, watching them.

  “Huh.” That makes sense, I guess. Brandon passes Julian the ball while their third teammate cuts to the basket. Julian passes him the ball and he goes for a layup.

  “He didn’t want Julian to become a Marine.”

  I glance at Claire. “He didn’t?”

  “Nope. The night Estella called with the news he was hurt, Brandon just sat at the table for hours. I’ve never seen him so upset.”

  The guys try the same thing again, only with Brandon cutting to the basket, but Brandon’s shot is blocked and he’s knocked to the ground.

  “I’m glad they’re being so careful,” Claire says dryly.

  Actually, they kind of are. When Julian’s on defense, the guy he’s guarding stays on the outside and doesn’t try to drive past him. When Julian’s on offense, even under the basket, the guy guarding him only checks him lightly with the tips of his fingers instead of muscling him around with his whole forearm.

  “This is good,” I say.

  “Yeah. It is good.”

  Brandon is obviously friends with these guys. Once the game is over, they stick
around and shoot the breeze with each other. “Your boyfriend did all right,” Brandon says, embarrassing me a little.

  Eventually, Julian excuses himself and comes over.

  “Hi,” he says. “This is a surprise.”

  “A good one?”

  “A very good one.” He smiles and tugs on my front jeans belt loop.

  “Hot legs,” I point out.

  “You, too.”

  I move in closer to him.

  “I’m sweaty,” he warns.

  I give him a suggestive smile. “I noticed.”

  He grins.

  “Come play anytime,” one of the guys says, pointing at Julian.

  Julian thanks him and then turns back to me. “Let’s go up.”

  While the men shower and change, Claire starts dinner and asks me how to make a homemade salad dressing. She’s so eager to learn this and so gracious about it, I wind up showing her how to flash-sear the steaks, finish them in the oven and then work up a simple Maître d’hôtel butter to go along with them.

  “You didn’t make this,” Brandon says to her after the first bite. “It’s too good.”

  Claire gives him a stern look. “Don’t be mean.”

  “I’m just saying thanks for dinner, Cami.”

  “Thanks for having me at the last minute.”

  “Our pleasure, believe me,” Brandon says.

  “Let’s take Cami out tonight,” Julian suggests. “She just finished school today.”

  “Yes, let’s celebrate!” Claire agrees.

  “No really, it’s fine.”

  “Brad’s band is probably playing at the Grill,” Brandon offers.

  “Nah, those people are too old.”

  “Well they wouldn’t card her there. I’m guessing she doesn’t have a fake ID.”

  “Let’s take her to that place in Springfield.”

  “They card there.”

  “I’ll bet they let her in by the time I’m through with her,” Claire says.

  Oh no. What does that mean?

  “We don’t have to go all the way out to Springfield,” I protest.

  “Yes, we do.” Claire sets her napkin down and takes my hand. “Just leave the dishes.”

  Claire ushers me into the bedroom and disappears in her closet. “You’re smaller than me, but I have a few things here I think will fit you.” She comes out with a really short black mini-skirt. “Try this.”