“She’ll have—” Zach begins.
“Absolutely not!” I interject. “Where do you think I’ll put dessert when I couldn’t even finish my dinner?”
Zach clears his throat. “I’ll have the five-layer chocolate cake, and we’ll take a second one to go.”
“Zach…”
“For after the dance,” he says. “You can take it home with you. You can’t come here and not get dessert!”
I give him my best evil glare, but there’s no heat behind it.
The waiter returns with Zach’s cake and another “to go” box, presumably with my dessert inside. He places a leather folder on the table. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
Zach shakes his head. “Thank you, no.”
“Thank you,” I tell the waiter.
When the waiter leaves, Zach shovels a bite of chocolate cake into his mouth. “Sure you don’t want some?”
I smile and shake my head.
He scans the bill between bites and slips a credit card from his pocket, enclosing it inside the folder. Around the table, Tera’s and Wendy’s dates do the same. A shot of envy thrusts through me at the nonchalance of their actions, but I quickly stomp it down—I will not let jealousy or self-consciousness ruin my night.
THE LOUD THUMPING of bass reaches our ears from the parking lot even with the car windows closed. Again, I wait at Zach’s insistence as he circles the car and opens my door.
“Ooh la la! Aren’t you the gentleman tonight, Zach,” Tera teases as she approaches with her date.
Embarrassment stains her date’s face, a striking contrast to his white-blond hair and black button-down shirt. I struggle to remember his name but it escapes me. He shoots me an apologetic smile then leans over and whispers something into Tera’s ear. Her eyes flash wide and pink creeps into her cheeks.
Wendy joins us with her date. “I don’t even want to know what he said to make you blush like that!”
Tera giggles. “You know I’ll tell you later. I always do.”
Her date frowns, but she steps up on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek. “Just kidding.”
Her date smiles down at her. “Right—as if you can keep any secrets from Wendy!”
Wendy’s date—whose name I also can’t remember—laughs and gives Tera’s date a playful shove. “I told you, Kyle, girls are tight and can’t keep secrets. Don’t do it or say it if you don’t want them all to know.”
“Fact.” Zach laughs and the three boys bump fists.
Okay, then. White hair equals Kyle. Got it.
Zach takes my hand and leads me into the school where we hand over our tickets and join the crush of sweaty bodies inside the gymnasium. My shoulders ache with tension, and I wonder how much money they’ve spent just on decorations.
The gym is decorated with an oasis of palm trees and sea life painted onto wooden cutouts. Heavy crepe paper drapes from the ceiling and swoops low like waves from above, giving the illusion of a more intimate setting. Blue and green strobe lights ricochet off a mirrored disco ball in the center of the room and, except for the basketball court beneath our feet, it looks nothing like a gymnasium.
The room is filled to capacity with teens dressed in extravagant evening wear. Some girls wear floor-length gowns, but most opt for dresses similar to the one I’ve borrowed from Tera—knee length and either skin-tight or pouffy with a sheer or tulle overlay. But one thing is consistent: though not quite elegant enough for prom, there’s no doubt each person has spent a lot of time and money trying to outdress everyone else. In my head, I say a silent thanks to Tera for her generosity and pray she never comprehends how much I needed it.
The DJ slows the music and the dance floor empties until only couples remain. The clear strains of “Stand By Me” from generations ago echo through the large room and I wince at the irony. Would Zach stand by me if he knew my secrets?
He squeezes my hand. “Dance with me.”
I swallow a knot in my throat and nod as he leads me onto the dance floor. There he pulls me close and we sway together to the music. The song ends and a more current ballad is queued up. Zach pulls me closer and I rest my head on his chest.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
I lift my head and look up into his eyes. “For what?”
“For coming with me tonight.”
I bite my lip for all the things I’m not telling Zach, then lay my head back against his chest and whisper, “Thank you.”
We dance the remainder of the song in silence, just enjoying the feel of being in each other’s arms, and I’m almost disappointed when the classic Village People song, “YMCA” begins playing. We pull apart just as Wendy and Tera bounce to our sides with their dates, both girls singing at the top of their lungs as they dance to the music.
The six of us dance to nearly every song—all in a group for the fast songs, and partnered off for the slow ones. When the final song ends, my feet are blistered and I’ve ditched my shoes, but I remain in Zach’s embrace as we dance, even as the lights around us brighten the room.
“Um—hello? The music ended eons ago,” Tera says from behind me.
Zach sighs. “I guess we better go, huh?”
I purse my lips in a mock pout. “Do we have to?”
“Afraid so. C’mon.” He pecks my pouted lips with his own.
We find my shoes on the chair where I abandoned them and Zach leads me out of the gymnasium, his arm wrapped around my waist and Wendy’s four-inch strappy heels dangling from his fingers. I limp slightly, but I’m so happy I can barely feel the pain.
“I can carry those.” I reach for the shoes.
“You could, but I’ve got ’em. Plus, you’re limping,” Zach says.
I smile and glance down at my sore feet. “Only a little. I’m not used to wearing high heels and dancing all night.”
Before I can stop him, he scoops me into his arms.
“What are you doing?” I gasp.
“Your feet are important. I’m just gonna carry you out to the car so you don’t damage them any more.”
Behind me are the unmistakable giggles and snorts of Tera and Wendy.
WE ARRIVE BACK at Wendy’s house just minutes after they and their dates pull into her driveway. Zach and I have driven separately for the sake of room, but I’m glad because it gives us a few extra minutes alone.
He flips off the headlights but keeps the motor running for warmth, then reaches between us into the backseat where he gropes in the darkness. He finds what he seeks and holds up the take-home bag from Victoria’s restaurant. “You ready for dessert?”
I laugh. “Zach, there’s no way I’ll ever eat that whole piece of cake by myself.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He winks, then forages through the bag and pulls out two plastic forks. “Guess I’ll have to help you.”
My lips tilt up and I take the extra fork from his hand. “I’m pretty sure you planned that on purpose.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re right,” he says.
Within moments, the entire piece is gone and Zach offers me a sincere look. “Thanks for going with me tonight.”
“You’ve already thanked me,” I say softly.
He nods. “You looked beautiful. You still do. And I had a great time.”
Butterflies race in my stomach and heat creeps up my neck. “Me, too. It’s already one of my best memories ever.”
Zach leans toward me and across the center console. “I’m glad.” He cups my cheek in his hand and places his lips over mine. One kiss turns into two, and then three, until I completely lose track of time. I don’t know if we’ve been sitting in the car for five minutes or five hours. I only know I don’t want to be anywhere else.
“Come over tomorrow?” he whispers, his lips still so close I can feel his warm breath.
I nod. “What time?”
“Noon? We can go for lunch first.”
“Okay.”
“Want me to pick you up?”
I shake
my head. “I’m not sure where I’ll be. I might still be here.”
“Okay. Tomorrow, then.”
“I have to meet my folks at the library by four,” I say.
“We’ll make it work.”
Zach’s lips meet mine one last time, then with a heart-stopping smile, he opens his car door and gets out. Before I can find the handle to release the latch, my own door is opened and Zach holds his hand out for me. When I’m standing at full height, he reaches back inside and retrieves Wendy’s shoes and the leftovers from Victoria’s, then removes his jacket and places it around my shoulders. “It’s too cold out for the way you’re dressed. But you still look beautiful.”
I snuggle into his side as he leads me up the steps to Wendy’s front door. He pulls me close one last time, this time leaving a chaste kiss on my forehead. “Tomorrow, Abs?”
I nod. “Tomorrow.”
I take the shoes and carryout bag from Zach’s hands and step inside Wendy’s house, but stand in the open doorway as he returns to his car and pulls out of the driveway. When his rear lights disappear into the distance, I step back and push the door closed. Now alone, I realize I’m still wearing his jacket. I snuggle deeper inside its warmth and breathe in his scent, then turn to enter the foyer.
“Geez! It took you guys long enough!”
“Aah!” I yelp at Tera’s greeting as she steps out from behind the drapes.
“Oh my God! You scared me!” I cover my racing heart with my hand. “We were just saying goodbye.”
“We could see that,” Wendy teases.
“You were watching the whole time? From behind the drapes?”
“Well, of course we were! What were we supposed to do? We had to make sure Zach didn’t take advantage of you!” Tera wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.
Embarrassment washes over me and I follow the two girls up to Wendy’s room.
“So spill!” Wendy says. “What were you doing in that dark car for so long?”
“Eating chocolate cake,” I answer.
“Uh-huh,” Tera says.
Changing the subject, I ask, “So what’s up with you and…um… dammit! I still can’t remember his name!” I say to Wendy, referring to her date.
“Travis?” She ducks her head, her eyelashes hiding her eyes. “I’m not sure yet. We’re just testing the waters.”
Tera snorts. “If by ‘testing the waters’ you mean dancing so close we couldn’t slip a piece of paper between you, I’d say the water is a perfect temperature.”
Wendy laughs. “There might be some chemistry there.”
“Some?” Tera accuses. “I was afraid to touch either of you for fear of getting scalded by the heat!”
Mission accomplished. Tera and Wendy banter for some time, and I listen without contributing—I’m enjoying it way too much to intervene.
I realize I’ve never had friends like Tera and Wendy. Even when Sarah and Emma were my best friends, it wasn’t the same. I can’t explain how it’s different, but I know my friendship with them is far better than any I’ve ever had. It seems weird to be thankful for all the crap I went through, and even that we’re homeless at the moment, but without those things, tonight would never have happened.
Wendy and Tera tease each other long into the night until we each drift off to sleep on the floor of Wendy’s bedroom. First Tera slips off to sleep, then Wendy, and soon my own eyes close.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“GIRLS.” WENDY’S MOM KNOCKS ON THE BED-ROOM DOOR. “WAKE UP AND COME DOWN FOR BREAKFAST.”
Wendy groans and pulls a pillow over her head. “What time is it?”
“9:37,” I croak, shielding my eyes from the sun spilling in through a gap in the blackout blinds.
Tera nudges Wendy with her foot. “C’mon, Wen. I’m hungry.”
“You guys go without me,” she whines.
“No way. C’mon.” Tera pulls the blanket off of Wendy. “Get up.”
“Fine. I’m coming.” She throws her pillow in Tera’s direction but misses. “You owe me, though. I had at least another hour of sleep coming.”
Groggy and still wearing our pajamas, we trudge downstairs to the kitchen. The table is set with Nutella, whipped cream, sliced strawberries, chocolate chips, peanut butter, and maple syrup. My stomach rumbles.
Karyn sets a plate piled high with Belgian waffles in the center of the table. “Help yourselves, girls.”
I mouth the word wow, then say out loud, “Thanks. These look great.”
We scarf down breakfast then I draw the long straw for the first shower. I’m rinsing my hair when the doorframe shakes with frantic pounding.
“Abby!” Tera calls out. “You have to get out! We gotta go!”
“What’s wrong?” I flip the nozzle to off and reach for a towel.
“Josh’s mom called. Hurry and get out so I can tell you.”
I don’t bother drying off properly, instead throwing clean clothes on my still-damp body. When I emerge, I find Wendy standing beside her bed, tossing things into a book bag.
“What’s wrong?” I rush to her side.
Tera catches my arm and shakes her head. “Josh is in the hospital.”
My eyes go wide. “What? How? When?”
Wendy swipes at the tears on her cheeks. “We’re not sure. His mom called and said he’s in the ICU. She said flu, but that doesn’t make any sense.”
I grab for a chair and fall into it. “ICU? Is he okay?”
“Not sure,” Tera says. “They admitted him Thursday night.”
My eyes flash back to Wendy. She moves on autopilot, still throwing random things into her backpack. I nod in her direction. “Is she okay?”
“She’s pretty shaken up,” Tera says. “She and Josh have been friends longer than any of us.”
“So what do we do? Can we go to the hospital? Will they let us in to see him?”
“That’s why his mom called,” Tera says. “She wants us to come see him. Are you in?”
“Of course I’m in.” I grab my bag off the floor and throw my dirty clothes inside. “I need to let Zach know. I’m supposed to meet him at—”
“You can call him from the car,” Wendy interrupts. “But we gotta get going.”
I turn to Tera, my eyes pleading. “I can’t call him. I don’t have his number.”
“Why not?” she asks.
“I just don’t, but I can message him through Facebook.”
“Want me to text him for you?”
“Yeah—that would be great,” I say.
“I’ll do it at the hospital. Right now we gotta go.”
Wendy’s out the door first, sprinting to Tera’s VW. She taps her foot, impatient for Tera to unlock the doors. “This piece of crap better start this time.”
“Ya know what, Wen?” Tera says. “You need to knock this crap off. We’re doing our best to get there as fast as we can.”
Wendy’s shoulders slump and she bursts into sobs. “I’m sorry. I know. I’m just so worried.”
“We know you are, Wen,” I say softly. “But his mom says he’s better, right? He must be, or she wouldn’t let us see him. You need to settle down or they’ll never let us go in. Okay?”
Wendy nods and pulls the passenger door open. I squeeze into the back, giving her the front seat. With only a mild stutter, Tera’s car starts. Moments later we drive out of the subdivision and through the streets of downtown Rochester. It’s only five or six blocks to the hospital, but we hit every stoplight on the way. Anxiety weighs heavily inside the small car.
Tera pulls into the underground parking adjacent to St. Marys Hospital then follows the circular maze in search of an open spot. The first two levels are filled with spaces reserved for “consultants” which Tera informs me is a fancy word for “important doctor.” On the fourth level, she finds a space and pulls in. Wendy jumps out before the car is fully in park, leaving Tera and me running to catch up. I’m breathing heavily when we hit the elevators. As the car carries us to the fifth floor
Pediatric ICU, I rest against the back wall and catch my breath.
The doors open and we walk-run through the main foyer where a severe woman behind a tall desk stops us. “Ladies, stop—you have to sign in. Who are you here to see?”
“Josh Bryant,” Wendy says.
The woman’s closely clipped fingernail scans down a list. She stops and writes “Bryant” on three name tag stickers. Handing them to us, she points to her right. “Room 517, but slow down. You can’t be rushing through here like this.”
We apologize and follow the corridor until we’re standing outside Josh’s room. The sliding glass door is partially open, but the privacy curtain is closed. The smell of cleaning solution reaches my nose and my head spins. Sweat drips from my forehead, but I’m chilled to the bone. My knees shake and my fingers tingle. I lean against a wall to steady myself. Memories float behind my eyes and I squeeze them shut, hoping to block them out. But it’s no use. The room is nearly identical to the one in Omaha where Mom was taken after her episode.
Wendy knocks and steps through the glass door, entering the room with Tera behind her. I try to follow, but my feet won’t move.
Tera turns back, her forehead wrinkled. “Are you coming, Abby?”
Her voice is so far away—like she’s speaking through a tunnel. I shake my head. “No. Go ahead. I—I need a quick second.”
Tera studies me then says, “Come in when you’re ready.”
I nod, but I’m no longer thinking about Tera or Wendy, or even Josh behind the sliding glass door. The only thing I can think about is Mom in her own hospital bed only a few months ago.
A chair sits outside Josh’s door and I collapse into it. The tears come swiftly, but I barely notice. I tuck my head between my knees and sing silently inside my head, but there is no distracting myself—the memories come rushing back like a tsunami and there’s no time to run.
FOUR MONTHS EARLIER
Mom lies peacefully in the narrow hospital bed, wires connected to her in more places than I can count. A machine above her head beeps steadily to what I think is her heartbeat. I can’t believe how much better she looks now—almost normal. Just hours ago I was sure she was dying, and now she lies there content, with Nick hovering over her and catering to her every need as though the last several weeks never happened. Typical.
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