If It Makes You Happy

by Claire Kann

  “I’m—getting there.”

  She stood up, smiling at us. “I’ll take it.”

  To my surprise and utter delight, he smiled back at her. God, I wanted to kiss his face off.

  “So, what’s the plan?” he asked.

  “Movie night,” Kara answered. “It’s kind of a thing with us.”

  “I’ve heard.” He turned to me. “More Lord of the Rings?”

  “Not on your life.” I lugged a stack of extra blankets and pillows from the closet, dropping them on the bed.

  “Blanket fort?” Dallas asked.

  “No, but that’s such a good idea. Why have we never done that?”

  “Because Winston would probably say something like, ‘Ew, no.’”

  “What am I saying?” Winston returned holding a giant bowl of popcorn in each hand and a bag of chips under each arm.

  “Do you want to build a blanket fort?”

  “Ew. No.”

  Dallas laughed.

  Once Sam came back, we piled onto the bed. Kara took her usual spot on the left side while I sat next to her, immediately wrapping myself into a blanket cocoon—everything covered except for my face. Dallas sat next to me on my other side, knees up, arms wrapped around his legs. Sam squeezed herself in between Kara and me. And Winston, after making a pillow barrier to protect himself from our feet, draped himself across the entirety of the foot of the bed.

  “What should we watch?” Sam asked, working the remote.

  “Oh, I’ve meant to ask,” Dallas said to me. “Have you seen The Matrix?”

  “No, she hasn’t,” Winston said. “And it embarrasses me on a daily basis.”

  “I like sci-fi even less than horror,” I said. “I kind of refuse to watch it.”

  “Interesting,” Dallas said. “I really think you’d like this one. It’s a trilogy. Unfortunately, the sequels aren’t as good as the first, but in their defense, the first movie was a pretty tough act to follow. Also, it’s a mixture of sci-fi, dystopia, and while not quite fantasy in the elves sense, it has a prophecy at the center, which is a bit like a fairy tale. There are a few romances and lots of women, Black and brown people.”

  “As main characters?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do they die?”

  “Some people die, yeah, but it’s pretty balanced.”

  “I am intrigued.” I looked at Winston. “See, if you had pitched it like that, I would have watched it years ago.”

  Winston’s vicious stare threatened to shred Dallas to pieces telepathically.

  Kara cackled, but said, “Winston, no!” She kept laughing as she held him by the cheeks and physically made him look away. “Winnie, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

  “Only a little bit.” I winked at Dallas.

  * * *

  I didn’t remember falling asleep. Wrapped up in my blanket cocoon, I had nursed the smallest swallow of soda and ate popcorn without my hands. The movie had played—noticeably not The Matrix because Winston’s petty streak showed up to the party—the room had quieted minus the obligatory quoting and laughter, and I let myself relax. I didn’t think about Granny or leaving Haven Central early and having to tell Dallas about it. By the third movie, I had felt myself nodding off but couldn’t place the exact moment I passed out.

  I inhaled deeply, stretching until my feet hit Winston’s pillow barrier. He slept like the dead—quiet and unmoving with one arm draped over his eyes. Sam snored next to me, covering up Kara’s mumble-sleep talking.

  Someone had turned off the TV and the lights. Outside, the moon shone. The familiar scene made me feel even warmer inside, making me want to close my eyes again and drift back to sleep. I rolled over, ready to snuggle down for an epic sleep, but ended up looking Dallas right in the eyes.

  “You’re awake.”

  “I should probably leave, but I heard someone put the alarm on a while ago.”

  I laughed into my blankets to muffle the sound. “You could’ve woken me up.”

  “Nah.” He grinned at me.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Were you watching me sleep?”

  “Not on your life.”

  “Come on. I’ll escort you off the premises.” Carefully, we got off the bed and tiptoed out of the room, down the hall, and to the kitchen. While he put his shoes on, I disarmed the alarm—the code was Junie and Kara’s birth dates—and walked him outside.

  “Are Sam and Winston staying here, too?”

  I shook my head, closing the door behind me. “I’m the lone outcast. Banished to book-filled pastures.” I stared at my feet as I said, “I can’t stay.” Now was as good a time as any to break the news.

  “Stay where?”

  “Here. My parents are making me go home.”

  “When?”

  “After the Starlight competition. The same night.”

  “That’s so soon.” The way he sounded, surprised and upset, almost made me look at him. He didn’t want me to go. It was almost enough.

  “Yep.”

  “What did you two even fight about? You said she kicked you out because of the thing with Skinner and you went back.”

  Arms crossed, I sat on the top step watching the stars for a quiet moment until Dallas sat next to me. I gave him the CliffsNotes version of what had happened, limiting it to the parts about Winston and the Starlight competition.

  “That’s messed up.”

  “I don’t get why she just wouldn’t tell me. She’s always had this attitude about explaining herself. Like being an elder automatically gives you the right to be unfair, no questions allowed to be asked. More than anything, I think I just want to know why. I just keep thinking about it. There has to be a reason. Some kind of deeper meaning.”

  “Or you just need one to exist.” He placed a hand on my knee. “I think your granny having a reason gives you permission to forgive her. You’d be able to say sorry and mean it. You two could move on, business as usual.”

  Did I want to forgive Granny? She would never say sorry to me. That absolutely wasn’t happening. But I said it to her all the time. I guess it was a bit of an unspoken rule between us. One apology was enough to mend us, and it always had to be mine. But this time … there was nothing. I couldn’t see anything good behind her tyranny. And no one could explain it to me.

  “I want you to stay. I want more time with you,” Dallas admitted. “But not if it has to happen like that.”

  I placed my hand on top of his.

  Thirty-Nine

  Once upon a time and six mayors ago, Haven Central sent out a request to the farmers in the area for an event idea to attract tourists in the summer. The residents would make and sell their best recipes using the produce provided by the farmers—they’d have food contests and a mini-carnival. That first year, two acceptance letters had been sent out instead of one:

  To a corn farm about two miles west.

  To a cherry farm three miles east.

  It’s been cherries and corn galore ever since at the M&M Carnival.

  Summer had finally decided to chill out. The sky remained clear and even though the sun shone like it had lost its mind, a strange breeze had appeared out of nowhere. Just windy enough to make the sunlight bearable, but not so windy that it kicked up the dirt into dust devils at the fairgrounds.

  I couldn’t count on one hand how many Daisy Dukes and flip-flops I’d seen already. Mr. Gatling’s shorts were so short they might as well have been underwear. But Dallas and I had chosen to lean further into our supposed fate, dressing up to stand out even more. If we had to pose in pictures, say hi to everyone, and be stared at all day, we agreed we’d look damn good the entire time.

  Dallas’s royal-blue suit looked marvelous on him. He kept it casual and unbuttoned, showing off a cornflower-blue-and-white polka-dot dress shirt, which also had the first few buttons open. His white socks and dark shoes completed his look, bringing it all together in one enviable package topped with his crown.

  Today would be the la
st day we’d be required to wear our crowns. Couldn’t really be a Misty Summer Queen if you had a nine p.m. flight home with no plans to ever come back.

  Strangely, I didn’t feel sad about it. Everything was kind of—muted now. Kara thought I had overloaded and my brain decided to make me feel numb instead of feeling anything. Sometimes, things happened exactly how they were supposed to.

  Granny was never going to accept me. Never going to be willing to see the real me and be proud. I had accepted her, all of her kindness and faults, and loved her anyway. I guess I wasn’t worthy of the same kind of effort.

  When people showed me who they were, I was going to start believing them.

  I decided to keep on pushing my luck and wore white. A final trip back to Miss Jepson’s resulted in her simple white summer dress being layered with rainbow tulle until it puffed out like a tutu. We fashioned a belt out of shimmery purple ribbon and converted an old, rich purple suit coat into a perfectly fitted blazer with three-quarter-length sleeves and pockets.

  Our first Royal Order of Business was meeting with Rush, who begged for a few photos in front of the carnival’s entrance. He followed us around after that, like paparazzi who were paid per shot but couldn’t get to close, always right in the corner of my eye snapping photos. I didn’t let myself worry about that. Rush meant well, and whatever happened in the photos, all I cared about was that I looked like I was having a good time.

  We judged two contests early in the morning. One for artwork that would be put on display in the town hall and a second for dog swimming, which was a bit weird but fun.

  By midday, we shuffled over to the large barn. The smell of hay and dirt and God knew what else was inescapable, but the sheer number and variety of rabbits had made my entire day. Since we weren’t qualified to judge the animals, we’d been put in charge of handing out ribbons, pinning them to cages and owners, and posing for pictures. Chickens, pigs, cows, ducks—there were even chinchillas and dwarf hamsters. All the reptiles had been relegated to a corner. Dallas made me take a picture holding a baby alligator on my lap. I threatened to never forgive him. He laughed at me, the jerk.

  After that, we’d been set free to wander around as we pleased. The carnival had come alive by then, packed with people and the smells of cotton candy, popcorn, and giant pickles. Dallas played games and won gigantic stuffed animals for me. The only rides we rode were with littles, who wanted to wear our crowns and share seats with us, and refused to stop calling me Queenie.

  When we finally got hungry, we found a quiet place to eat—sweet-cream cherry turnovers for him and a roasted sweet corn on the cob drizzled in honey and sprinkled with Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese for me—and sat together in private.

  Dallas asked, “Do you want to fall in love with me?”

  That was an absolute spit-take moment. If I had been drinking, it would have shot straight out of my mouth and left me sputtering in a dumbstruck state of ohmygod.

  “Is there a reason why you’re asking me that?”

  “Because this is the end. You’re leaving me. Legend has it that we’re supposed to fall in love by the end of our reign. So, do you love me?”

  Jesus Christ, how in the hell was he so confident? How could he just bald-faced ask something like that without turning red, without smiling to hide his embarrassment or stuttering? He waited for an answer, watching me like a hawk ready to go in for the kill.

  “I didn’t know you believed in the divine matchmaking.”

  “I don’t.” He scoffed. “If I’m going to be with someone, I’m going to pick them. I get to decide who I fall in love with. Not some unofficial beauty pageant pretending it’s not a popularity contest.”

  “Aww, you remembered.” I scrunched my nose at him.

  “But the thing is, I did pick you.”

  Jesus, just when I thought it was safe! He had me trapped and I schooled my face as best as I could, but any second I’d give myself dead away. “Are you in love with me?”

  “No.” He kissed my cheek and his mouth lingered near my ear. “But I’m not ready to say good-bye.”

  “Then don’t.” I laughed—it sounded high-pitched and reedy, the epitome of nervous. “I’m, uh, pretty good at the whole long-distance thing. I even come with references.”

  He laughed, too, his forehead against my temple. “Kara.”

  “It’s a lot of work and it can be really hard at times.”

  “Do you think we could be happy like that, though? Does thinking about it feel like it’ll be worth it to you?”

  “Why don’t we take it one day at a time? You call me. We talk about our day. You tell me you wanted to hear my voice. I tell you a ridiculous story that you aren’t sure is one-hundred-percent true. And when we get tired, we can make a bet about who hangs up first. First one to fall asleep loses. When that stops being fun, then it won’t be worth it anymore, I think.”

  “Let’s change one thing. If I fall, you fall, and vice versa.”

  “Asleep?”

  “Sure.”

  Kissing Dallas still felt like an impossible snatch of surreal happiness in an unkind reality.

  * * *

  My last day in Misty Haven was turning out to be a good one, and I got to spend it holding Dallas’s hand the entire day. We’d been so busy I almost didn’t have time to worry about Winston. Almost.

  At four p.m. we headed to the tent where the filming would take place. Kara had saved us seats, front row center. “I’m not nervous. I don’t get nervous.” She said that seven times in a row. “I win.”

  “Do you want to sit down?” Dallas offered, already beginning to stand. “Not saying you’re nervous or anything, but you’re kind of shaking. A lot.”

  “Okay, I’m not supposed to tell you,” she said, voice a frenzied whisper. She squatted down in front of us. “We’re top five. Both of us.”

  “What?” My jaw dropped.

  “Keep your voice down!” Kara looked around and then pulled Dallas and me into another tight triangle. “Winston’s still inside. They filmed the preliminary round in the auditorium and they’re going to announce the winners here. I saw the list. One of the judges wasn’t paying attention and I. Saw. The. List.”

  “Oh my God.” I covered my mouth with my hands. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. Have you told him?”

  “No. I didn’t want to freak him out or steal that moment from him, you know?”

  “I can’t believe it. Well, no, of course I can. Top five is amazing.”

  “Am I late?” Sam asked.

  “No,” Dallas said as Kara shot up like a rocket. “Right on time.”

  “I should go back inside. I think they want to get a shot of us walking out.” Kara hurried away, arms wrapped around herself.

  I ran after her, reaching for her arm. “Hey.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you and I’m proud of you no matter what.”

  “I know.”

  “And thank you.”

  She looked confused. “For what?”

  I wrapped her in the tightest hug I could manage. She stopped shaking, slumping against me, head resting on my shoulder. “Just for being you. It’s you and me. You know that, right?”

  She nodded, pulling back and taking a deep breath. “You and me. Always.”

  “She okay?” Sam asked as I sat down next to her.

  “She doesn’t get nervous. She wins.”

  “Right.” Sam laughed but abruptly became serious. “You should know that Granny’s here.”

  “Here? Really? At the contest she wanted nothing to do with, how interesting.”

  “Yeah, I don’t get it either.”

  The truth was, I didn’t want to get it. Part of me wanted to apologize again. Part of me just didn’t care. Outgrowing people was a thing that happened. Sometimes those people were family members who maybe hadn’t treated you all that well.

  Walking away, even though it felt painful, felt valid, too. Sometimes love just wasn’t enough.

 
Before long, twenty contestants lined the stage and the cameras started rolling. Winston stood next to Kara in a bright yellow shirt with beautiful black lettering on the front:

  Win-Win Creations

  Oh.

  I started crying immediately.

  “They’re filming you.” Dallas draped an arm across my shoulders, pulling me closer. I turned to face him quickly, long enough to wipe my eyes before looking at the stage again. I blew out an unsteady breath, and oh God I was such a wreck.

  Winston smiled at me and gave a tiny wave. He was just so pleased with himself, I could have died a proud sister right then and there. I had made the right choice. Every fight, every act of defiance, every single time I kept pushing for what I knew was the right thing made everything that had happened that summer absolutely worth it. Nothing would ever make me regret choosing to put Winston first.

  Sana Starlight strolled onto the stage, microphone in hand. She looked the same in person as she did on TV—bright blue eyes that could be seen from space, perfectly golden and hair-sprayed blond hair, a giant smile with too many teeth that somehow worked with her sun-kissed tan skin. She greeted the crowd, moving quickly through her rehearsed speech.

  If this woman didn’t announce the names soon, I’d explode. My legs wouldn’t stop bouncing. Dallas held both of my hands in one of his to keep me from flapping them. He stayed close to me, probably closer than he needed to be, but I would never complain. Our minutes were numbered.

  “Are we ready for our top five contestants?” Sana called. My heart rate skyrocketed. “Just as a reminder, from this group of five there will be two first-place winners, one for each category, and from those two a grand-prize winner will be selected. Any questions?” She winked at the camera. “If I call your name, please step forward to the white line.”

  Kara’s name came second, and even though I knew Kara would never lie to me, with each passing name I couldn’t help but think: What if she was wrong? What if it’s not him?

  Winston Woodson. Contestant number 215. Grilled pork tenderloin with cherry salsa. Top five.

  I exhaled, tilting my head back. Laughing, crying, and praying to any God that would listen, I begged, please, please let him have this.