Red

by Alison Cherry

  There was only one Amy in Jonathan’s class, and she was the captain of the debate team. “Amy Riley?” Felicity asked skeptically.

  Jonathan laughed. “That’s a really funny image, but no, different Amy. She lives in Seattle. I met her at this summer arts program I went to in Boulder last year. What do you think of them?”

  “They’re really great.” Felicity stuck her hand out the window to surf the air currents as they sped through the dark, then closed her eyes and let the music wrap around her. The combination of Amy’s strong voice and the wind against her palm made her feel exhilarated and free. When the song’s catchy chorus repeated, Felicity found herself humming along.

  I won’t be your cookie-cutter girl,

  can’t mix me from a recipe.

  All the right ingredients in all the right proportions

  sometimes make an anomaly.

  I’d rather be a rock star than a groupie on the sidelines,

  I look so much better with these blue streaks in my hair.

  I’m not the perfect little princess you expected,

  and if that means you can’t handle me,

  I don’t care.

  The lyrics were just right for her state of mind. “Hey, do you think you could burn me a copy of this?” she asked.

  “Sure, no problem. I’ll burn you the whole album.”

  Jonathan took the ramp onto the highway and sped past the YOU ARE NOW LEAVING THE RED ZONE sign. As they accelerated, the wind whipped through the car and peeled tendrils loose from Felicity’s complicated updo. There was no point in fixing it—she wasn’t going back to prom—so she pulled out all the pins and let her hair fall loose around her shoulders. “What was the arts program like?” she shouted over the rush of the air.

  “It was amazing. Six weeks of pure awesome. We had class every morning in our own discipline, like music or dance or visual art or whatever, and then the afternoon was our studio time. I did a lot of my Art Institute portfolio there. You should have seen the supply room—it was like paint heaven. And there was a huge darkroom and digital printing labs and a big sculpture studio. You would have loved it. And every night, we’d share our work and talk about it. It was …” Jonathan shook his head. “It’s hard to even describe it. I had so many new ideas all the time, it felt like my brain was going to explode.”

  Felicity had never experienced anything like that, but now that she knew it was possible, she longed for it. “That sounds unbelievable.”

  “You could go,” Jonathan said. “You should. It’s called Tanglewilde. It’s too late to apply for this year, but you should go next summer. Your stuff is definitely good enough to get you in.”

  Even though she knew she could never afford it, Jonathan’s words ignited a warm glow deep in Felicity’s center. “You think so?”

  “Oh, for sure.”

  When Jonathan put his blinker on and took the exit for the next town, a sleepy little place called Caldner, Felicity could no longer contain her curiosity. “Where are we going?” she asked. “What’s in Caldner?”

  “You’ll see. We’re almost there.”

  She was growing more intrigued by the minute. In addition to wondering about their destination, she was fascinated by this new Jonathan. It seemed that slipping on a tux was all it took to transform him from Awkward School Jonathan to Confident SuperJonathan.

  They turned onto a street lined with dark shuttered storefronts. It ended in a cul-de-sac, and Jonathan pulled the truck into the last parking space before the curve. “We’re here,” he said.

  They were parked in front of the Caldner Public Library. The breeze carried strains of muffled music and laughter, but Felicity couldn’t find their source. “Umm … where are we, exactly?”

  Jonathan hopped out of the car and came around to the passenger side. “Come on, you’re gonna like this. I promise.”

  Felicity opened the door and slid out of the pickup amid a rustle of petticoats. The evening air had grown cool, and she realized she had left her wrap on a chair at the back of the gym. She shivered a little and hugged herself.

  “Are you cold?” Jonathan asked. “Do you want my jacket?”

  She smiled. “I’ll be okay. Thanks, though.”

  “No, really, it’s fine. You can have it.” Jonathan shrugged out of his tux jacket and draped it gently around her shoulders. It was warm from his body and fit her much better than Brent’s broad-shouldered one would have. She snuggled into it gratefully.

  “Come on, it’s this way.” Jonathan led her around to the back of the library, where she spotted a turquoise house with a huge, flood-lit sign reading FRY ME TO THE MOON. People sat at brightly painted picnic tables all over the lawn, lit by strings of novelty lights shaped like jalapeño peppers and flamingos. Light poured from the windows, revealing an explosion of color and activity inside, and the air was full of the mouthwatering scent of french fries. Felicity hadn’t eaten much of her dinner, but until that moment, she hadn’t realized how hungry she was.

  They walked across the lawn and up the weathered stairs, which listed to the left and felt as if they might collapse any second. When Jonathan pushed open the screen door, the smell of fries intensified, but the décor was so overwhelming that Felicity barely noticed. Neon-pink and lime-green shelves lined the walls, all of them crowded with Pez dispensers and action figures. The tables were draped in plastic shower curtains printed with cupcakes, sea creatures, and maps of the New York City subway system. In one corner, a five-foot-tall Lego sculpture of a carton of fries sat on a glittery pink throne. Colored lightbulbs dangled from the ceiling, a sky full of schizophrenic stars.

  Felicity instantly fell head over heels in love with it all.

  “I hope you like french fries,” Jonathan said. He pointed at the wooden menu on the wall, which was hand-painted with lists of french fry varieties, dipping sauces, and milk shake flavors. If Felicity had been a cartoon character, her pupils would have turned into little hearts and started spinning.

  There was another couple standing at the counter, and Felicity and Jonathan got in line behind them. The girl had a bright red ponytail, but Felicity didn’t recognize her from school. Just as she was wondering why someone with hair so red would choose to live just outside of Scarletville, a tiny blonde wearing an apron hurried out from behind the counter and threw her arms around the redhead. “Oh my god, Sienna, you finally did it!” she squealed. “That color looks amazing on you!”

  “Thanks!” The girl fingered the end of her coppery ponytail. “I’m still getting used to it, but I think I like it.”

  “I’m telling you, it’s awesome. Where’d you have it done?”

  “Live Free or Dye, over on Orchard.”

  Felicity suddenly realized what they were talking about, and she drew in her breath sharply. How could this Sienna girl openly admit to having dyed her hair? This was a public place, and anyone could be listening. Didn’t she know that hair dye should only be discussed in whispers in the privacy of one’s own home? Though the girl seemed totally at ease, Felicity flushed with embarrassment on her behalf. She had the urge to avert her gaze, as if the other redhead were doing a drunken striptease on the counter.

  But at the same time, she couldn’t stop staring. Because even to her expert eyes—eyes that looked at dyed red hair every single day of her life—this girl’s hair color looked natural. And that meant there was someone right here in Caldner who was just as skilled with dye as Rose Vaughn.

  Gabby had said she’d make her mom drop Felicity as a client if she refused to cooperate, but that threat was totally meaningless. Rouge-o-Rama wasn’t the only option out there. The realization shocked Felicity so much that her knees felt a little weak.

  “You okay?” Jonathan gently touched her shoulder.

  “What? Yeah. Sure.” Felicity realized the other couple had moved on and that she had been staring very intently into space. She tried to pull herself together.

  The tiny blonde was back behind the register now,
and she smiled radiantly when she saw Jonathan. “Hey, cutie! How are you? What’re you all dolled up for? Who’s your … um … friend?”

  Jonathan grinned and looked at his shoes, and Felicity smiled to see a little glimpse of bashful School Jonathan peeking through the SuperJonathan exterior. “This is Felicity. She helped me escape from prom. Felicity, this is April, my brother’s girlfriend.”

  April held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Felicity. You have such gorgeous hair. Wow, two redheaded customers in a row. What are the odds?”

  The question seemed ludicrous—at the stores and restaurants Felicity frequented, nearly all the customers were redheads. But as her eyes skimmed over the Fry Me to the Moon crowd, she had the startling realization that she and the ponytailed girl were the only redheads in the entire room. The lack of red made her feel a bit unsettled. “Crazy,” she managed.

  “Why’d you guys need to escape from prom?” April asked. “Isn’t that usually a place people want to be?”

  “Long story,” Jonathan said. “And we’re desperately in need of fries.”

  “Well, you’re in the right place. What can I get for you?”

  Felicity tried to focus on the menu, but it was overwhelming. There were at least twenty dipping sauces to choose from, and they all sounded equally delicious. She definitely needed some waffle fries, but was she in a jalapeño cheddar mood or a cinnamon barbecue mood? Maybe the spicy mayo was the way to go. Just as she was about to start asking questions, Jonathan said, “Well, since it’s Felicity’s first time, I think we better have one order of waffle fries with jalapeño cheddar and one order of sweet potato fries with cinnamon barbecue sauce.” He turned to her. “Is that okay with you?”

  Felicity’s eyes widened. “How did you know what I wanted?”

  “Trust me, those are the best. You want a milk shake?”

  She was about to say she didn’t need a milk shake, but she decided she deserved one after the night she’d had. “Yeah. Chocolate malt, please.”

  “Good call. I’ll have the same thing.”

  Felicity opened her bag and reached for her wallet, but Jonathan stopped her hand. “Don’t, um—I’ve got it.”

  Did that make this a date? Felicity instinctively looked around to make sure nobody was watching, but everyone who would gossip about her and Jonathan was back in Scarletville. “You don’t have to do that,” she said.

  “I know. I want to.”

  April handed Jonathan his change. “Your order will be out in a few minutes,” she said. Then she reached into her apron pocket, pulled out a hamburger-shaped windup toy, and presented it to Felicity with great solemnity. “This is for you, since it’s your first time. Welcome to the Fry Me to the Moon family.”

  “Thanks,” Felicity said. She wound up the hamburger, and it hopped crookedly across the counter. She found it more amusing than she should have, considering her age. She knew she should give it to her brothers when she got home, but she planned to keep it.

  Jonathan led Felicity to a free table next to a mosaic of a pelican with its beak full of fries. Felicity chose a gold chair painted with pineapples, and Jonathan sat down across from her in a purple striped one. He looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. “So, you like this place?” he asked.

  “I love it. How’d you find it? I never would have known this was here.”

  “I’ve been coming here pretty often since Jake and April started dating a couple years ago. It’s pretty much the only place that stays open late, except for the truck stop on I-35, and that’s not exactly my scene.”

  “Is that anybody’s scene?”

  “I think the football team goes there sometimes. They serve huge pieces of pie, and nobody cares if you act really rude and stupid.” Jonathan’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean Brent. I’m sure he’s— I mean—”

  Felicity considered defending her boyfriend’s honor, but it was true—the football team’s main pastimes were insulting each other and having eating and burping contests. “Don’t worry, it’s fine,” she said. “You’re totally right. That truck stop is awful.”

  Jonathan looked relieved. “Anyway, it’s just nice that I never run into anyone from Scarletville here, you know?”

  “Do you really hate it there that much?” Of course, it made sense, now that she thought about it. The lack of redheads in Caldner made her feel uneasy, so the lack of brunettes in Scarletville must make Jonathan feel the same way.

  “I don’t hate it. It’s just … I don’t know. I guess it’s not really my scene, either.” Jonathan’s hand reflexively flew up to fix his glasses, and when he remembered they weren’t there, he smoothed down his hair instead. Just talking about Scarletville seemed to make his fidgety mannerisms rise to the surface, and Felicity was sorry she’d brought it up.

  “You must be so excited about the Art Institute,” she said, trying to steer him back into more comfortable territory.

  “Oh yeah, definitely. I honestly can’t even believe I got in.”

  “I’m not surprised at all. You’re insanely talented. Ms. Kellogg told me she’d never seen a portfolio like yours.”

  Jonathan broke into a huge goofy grin. “She said that?”

  “Yeah, when we were setting up for the art show.”

  “That’s … Wow. That’s awesome.”

  Their milk shakes arrived, and Felicity took a long sip of hers. It was absolutely perfect, thick enough that a spoon could stand up in the center but not so solid that she needed to make an embarrassing fish face to get it through the straw. As she closed her eyes to savor her next slurp, she heard Jonathan laugh. “Good, huh?”

  She could hardly bring herself to remove the straw from her mouth. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life.”

  “Just wait till you have the jalapeño cheddar fries.”

  She took another rapturous sip. “So, are you nervous about moving all the way to Chicago?”

  Jonathan laughed. “All the way? It’s only a five-hour drive.”

  Five hours sounded like an eternity to Felicity—Scarletville Community College was only fifteen minutes from her house. She wondered what it felt like to have the freedom to escape, to have some say in what your life would become. “My mom couldn’t handle me being that far away,” she said. “And it would suck not to be able to see my brothers. Won’t you miss your family?”

  “Sure. But it’s not like it’s hard to drive back and forth. It’ll be fine. And Chicago’s such a great city. I mean, I can go to the Art Institute and sketch every day if I want. They have a huge Impressionist collection. And there’s so much live music and theater and stuff, and places that actually stay open past nine.”

  For the first time, Felicity really tried to imagine leaving Iowa, turning her back on everything she had ever known. She pictured herself walking down busy, unfamiliar city streets, getting lost in crowds of strangers who didn’t think she was special, who couldn’t care less what color her hair was. She’d be totally anonymous. At first, it seemed terrifying, almost impossible to fathom. But beneath her fear, she felt a current of electricity buzzing through her blood at the thought of starting over. Jonathan didn’t look nervous at all as he talked about leaving everything behind. He looked as if his life were only just about to begin.

  And just like that, as she watched him, Felicity’s doubts began to fade. Leaving Scarletville and chasing her dream suddenly felt like something she could do. There was a whole new world waiting for her out there.

  “What do your parents think about you leaving?” she asked.

  “They’re fine with the Chicago part, but they’re not thrilled about the art school thing. They think I should do something more … I don’t know, productive. Be a ‘contributing member of society’ or whatever.” He made exaggerated air quotes around the words.

  That sounded painfully familiar. “What do they want you to do instead?”

  “They’re both lawyers. Something like that, I
guess. Or premed, or business.” He wrinkled his nose, as if the word smelled like rotting fish guts. “The thing is, I think my dad actually gets it. He played bass in this band called Six-Fingered Man before he met my mom. But then they got married and had all of us, and he had to stop, and now he doesn’t play at all anymore. When I first told him I wanted to go to art school, his face kind of lit up, you know?”

  Felicity knew. That was the same look her mom gave her every time they discussed the pageant.

  Their baskets of fries arrived, and Felicity grabbed a waffle fry and dunked it in the jalapeño cheddar dip. True to Jonathan’s word, the fry was glorious—just the right crispiness, just the right amount of salt and grease. “Oh my God, these are ridiculously good.”

  Jonathan laughed. “Try the other kind.”

  She complied. The barbecue sauce was sweet and salty and smoky and cinnamony all at once. It made her want to get up and dance. “That’s it. I am never eating anything else for the rest of my life.”

  “Right there with you.” Jonathan grabbed a fry and clinked it with Felicity’s as if it were a champagne glass. “To not being at prom.”

  “Cheers.” As she stuffed the fry into her mouth, Felicity realized she hadn’t thought about Brent and Gabby since she had gotten into Jonathan’s car. She was warm and happy and surrounded by delicious food smells, and she suddenly felt intensely grateful. “Hey, thanks for this,” she said. “I was having a really awful night before you showed up.”

  “Thanks for coming with me. My night wasn’t going so well, either.”

  “Why didn’t you ask someone to prom who you actually wanted to go with? Your sister will have her own proms.”

  Jonathan played with his cuff link, suddenly unable to meet Felicity’s eyes. “Well … the girl I really wanted to ask was—um—indisposed, I guess.”

  Of course. A wave of sympathy swept through her. She’d had to give up her boyfriend for one important night, but it would be infinitely worse to be in Jonathan’s place, pining for someone who was all the way across the ocean. “That sucks. But I guess it’s kind of hard to get to prom if you live on the other side of the world, right?”