chapter 18

Laura

The last week of senior year was a joke.

Teachers stopped teaching. Everyone stopped caring. We watched movies in class. We signed yearbooks in the hallway. We ate lunch outside because no one wanted to be inside anymore.

Chloe brought a blanket and we sat on the lawn. Mia and Jess joined us. Rick showed up with Jake and some guys from the basketball team. Someone had a speaker. Someone had snacks. It felt like a party every day.

"I cannot believe it is almost over," Mia said.

"I cannot believe we made it," Jess said.

"I cannot believe I am going to miss this," Chloe said.

Everyone looked at her.

"What," she said.

"You are going to miss high school?"

"I am going to miss the chaos. The drama. The free food at events."

"There is not free food at events."

"There is if you know where to look."

I lay back on the blanket. The sun was warm. The sky was blue. A bird was flying in circles above us. I wondered if that bird had any idea how lucky it was.

My phone buzzed.

Mom: "Dress fitting at 4. Do not be late."

I had forgotten about the dress fitting. Graduation was in five days. My blue dress needed to be hemmed. My mom had been reminding me every day for a week.

Me: "I will be there."

Mom: "You said that yesterday."

Me: "And I meant it."

Mom: "Laura."

Me: "I will be there."

She sent a thumbs down. My mom was dramatic.

---

The dress fitting took an hour. The tailor was an old woman named Mrs. Gable who smelled like cigarettes and spoke in a language I did not understand. She pinned the hem. She pinned the waist. She told me I was too thin.

"I eat," I said.

"You eat like a bird."

"I like birds."

She did not laugh. She never laughed.

My mom sat in a chair by the window. She was scrolling through her phone. She looked up when Mrs. Gable was done.

"It looks good," she said.

"It looks okay."

"It looks good. Stop being negative."

"I am not being negative. I am being honest."

"There is a difference?"

I laughed. She smiled. Mrs. Gable took the dress and told us to come back in two days.

We walked to the car. My mom unlocked the doors. We sat there for a minute.

"Are you okay," she said.

"Yes."

"You seem quiet."

"I am tired."

"It is almost over."

"I know."

She started the car. We drove home. I looked out the window. The neighborhood was green. Flowers were blooming. Kids were playing in the street.

I thought about the future. About college. About leaving. About never living in this house again.

It made me sad. Not crying sad. Just quiet sad.

---

That night, Chloe came over.

She had a bag of chips and a bottle of soda and a stack of magazines. "Yearbook signing party," she said.

"We do not have yearbooks yet."

"We will sign them in our minds."

We sat on my bed. She flipped through a magazine. I flipped through a different one. Neither of us was reading.

"Who are you going to miss the most," she said.

"Besides you?"

"Besides me."

I thought about it. My teachers. My mom. The lunch lady who gave me extra fries on Fridays.

"No one," I said.

"Liar."

"Okay. Maybe Rick."

"Maybe?"

"I do not know. We might break up."

Chloe put her magazine down. Looked at me.

"Are you going to break up with him."

"I do not know."

"Why would you."

"He is nice. He is easy. But I do not know if I love him."

"Do you love anyone."

I thought about it. I thought about him. The way he looked at me. The way he said my name. The way he left without saying what I needed to hear.

"No," I said.

Chloe nodded. Did not push.

That was what friends did.

---

The next day at school, Rick found me by my locker.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"You look nice."

"I am wearing sweatpants."

"They are nice sweatpants."

He leaned against the locker next to mine. Looked at me.

"Are we okay," he said.

"Yes."

"You seem distant."

"I am just tired. Senioritis."

He nodded. Did not believe me. Did not push.

"Prom is Saturday," he said.

"I know."

"You have a dress."

"I have a dress."

"Good. I have a suit."

"I hope so."

He smiled. Kissed my forehead. Walked away.

I watched him go. He was nice. He was easy. He was not what I wanted.

I did not know what I wanted.

---

Saturday was prom.

Chloe came over at 3. She had her red dress. She had makeup. She had a curling iron and a plan.

"We are going to look hot," she said.

"We are going to look like we tried too hard."

"That is the point."

We did our makeup together. She did mine. I did hers. We looked in the mirror.

"Damn," she said.

"Damn," I said.

We looked hot.

Rick picked us up at 6. He was wearing a black suit. His hair was done. He looked good.

"You look good," I said.

"You look better."

Chloe made a gagging noise. "Get a room."

We went to prom. The venue was a hotel downtown. Ballroom. Chandeliers. A photographer by the door.

We took pictures. Chloe and her date. Rick and me. The whole group. Mia and Jess and Jake and everyone.

I smiled. I posed. I pretended.

The music started. People danced. Rick pulled me onto the floor.

"You are quiet," he said.

"I am dancing."

"You are thinking."

"I am always thinking."

"Stop thinking. Just dance."

I tried. I moved my body. I let him hold me. I closed my eyes.

The song was slow. His hands were on my back. His cheek was against mine.

"Laura."

"Yeah."

"I love you."

I did not say it back.

He did not notice.

---

After prom, we went to an afterparty at Jake's house.

Same house. Same loud music. Same crowd. But everyone was dressed up. Girls in gowns. Boys in suits. It felt fancy and trashy at the same time.

Chloe was dancing on a table. Her red dress was riding up. Someone was trying to pull her down. She was not having it.

I stood by the wall. A drink in my hand. Not drinking it.

Rick was playing beer pong. He was winning. He looked happy.

I was happy for him.

My phone buzzed.

Unknown number. "How was prom."

I knew who it was.

Me: "Who is this."

Unknown number: "You know who this is."

Me: "Then why are you texting from a different number."

Unknown number: "Because you blocked my other one."

I had. Months ago. After the night he came to my house and said nothing.

Me: "How did you get this number."

Unknown: "Leo."

Me: "I am going to block this one too."

Unknown: "Wait."

I waited.

Unknown: "I just wanted to know if you were happy."

I stared at the screen.

Me: "Why do you care."

Unknown: "Because I still do."

My heart did something. A jump. A flip. I hated it.

Me: "You should not."

Unknown: "I know."

Me: "Then stop."

Unknown: "I cannot."

I put my phone away.

Rick walked over. He was sweaty. His bow tie was undone.

"Who texted you," he said.

"No one."

"You looked upset."

"I am fine."

He looked at me. Did not believe me. Did not push.

"Want to dance," he said.

"Okay."

He pulled me onto the floor. The music was fast. He moved like an idiot. I moved like an idiot too. We laughed. We spun around. We bumped into people.

For a minute, I forgot about the text.

For a minute, I was just a girl at prom with her boyfriend.

Then the song ended. Rick kissed me. I kissed him back.

And I thought about the text. "Because I still do."

Still do what. Still care. Still want. Still love.

He did not say the word. He never said the word.

I was tired of waiting for words that never came.

---

The next morning, I woke up with a headache.

Chloe was asleep on my floor. She had crashed here after the party. Her red dress was on my chair. Her shoes were by the door. She was snoring.

I got up. Made coffee. Sat at the kitchen table.

My phone was on the counter. I looked at it.

The unknown number was still there. I had not blocked it yet.

I opened the thread. Read his messages again.

"How was prom."

"I just wanted to know if you were happy."

"Because I still do."

"I cannot."

I typed. "I am happy."

Then I blocked the number.

I drank my coffee. The sun was coming up. The birds were loud.

Chloe stumbled into the kitchen. Her hair was a mess. Her mascara was smudged.

"Kill me," she said.

"Drink this."

I handed her coffee. She drank it. Made a face.

"Never again," she said.

"You say that every time."

"This time I mean it."

She sat across from me. Put her head on the table.

"Laura."

"Yeah."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"You are my best friend."

"I know."

"Do not ever leave me."

"I will not."

She fell asleep on the table. I drank my coffee. The sun got brighter.

I thought about the text. "Because I still do."

I did not care anymore.

That was a lie.

But I was trying.