Life and Other Complications Page 5

I had half hoped that Mrs. Miller wouldn’t let me go. But Luke’s dad is the minister of our church, and Mrs. Miller thinks that anything Reverend Harrison approves of must be appropriate. So if Luke could go, there was no reason I couldn’t. Besides, this way she would have pictures to show her friends.

  Mrs. Miller had failed me. But I didn’t stop thinking of possible ways to get out of this. The only sure way would be to pretend to be sick. But if I told Luke I was sick, he would still show up. And Mrs. Miller would find out and start scrubbing everything in sight with Clorox. Which sounded even more miserable than prom. So I let Caroline come over this afternoon to help me with my hair and makeup.

  Caroline came through my bedroom door with the words, “I brought The Kit.”

  It’s what she calls the makeup case that is bigger than most tackle boxes. Caroline parked me in a chair in front of my easel and put The Kit down on my supply table.

  “Today, you are my canvas,” Caroline said.

  “Except I would like to be recognizable.”

  “You’ll look like you.”

  I felt her brushing out my hair and applying makeup. But she didn’t let me get up and look at myself in the mirror until she was done.

  Caroline had kept her promise. I looked like me. Except there were no dark circles under my eyes or worry lines between my brows. When you paint, the last thing you add are the highlights. And it’s those small touches of lighter shades that make the final image come alive. That’s what Caroline did for me. She added highlights.

  “It’s beautiful, thank you,” I told her.

  “You’re beautiful.” Caroline said.

  She left to get herself ready.

  A few minutes before six, I put on my dress. I loved it even more today than I did in the store. And in the privacy of my room, I took the chance to spin. I still can’t dance, but the dress swished beautifully.

  When the little ones saw me, Gabby said, “You look like a princess.”

  And Hattie said, “That would make Luke her prince.”

  They both giggled.

  I chose to ignore that idea. Because the last thing I needed was to expect something romantic out of tonight.

  But when I got downstairs, and saw Luke in a tux, I was so stunned that I blurted out, “You look like James Bond.”

  Luke raised an eyebrow. “I do have a pen with a built-in laser pointer.”

  And I smiled at him.

  “You look beautiful,” he said.

  And the way he looked at me, I thought he might actually mean it.

  Mrs. Miller had out the good camera and was taking rapid-fire pictures. The flash was blinding, and we probably looked like deer in the headlights of an oncoming car; but she kept snapping pictures until we were safely out the door.

  Luke opened the car’s passenger door for me. “Blinded, we’re off to a memorable start.”

  He drove us first to his house, where Reverend and Mrs. Harrison came out smiling.

  “Aly, you look beautiful,” Mrs. Harrison said.

  “Thank you.”

  “We need pictures,” Reverend Harrison said.

  “Not until we get the item,” Mrs. Harrison told him.

  “Should I be afraid?” I whispered to Luke.

  “Not unless you’ve developed a flower phobia,” Luke said.

  “You got me a corsage?”

  Like this is a real date?

  Luke gave me a look that wondered if I had suffered a recent blow to the head. “It’s prom. What were you expecting?”

  “I don’t know. I guess that we would go to the dance long enough to let people see us together and then be home by eight.”

  “Then you’re going to be disappointed,” he said.

  Luke went into the house and came back with a cold box. Inside it was a wrist corsage made up of creamy white gardenias. It practically screamed of Natalie’s influence. I decided to thank her when I saw her at the dance.

  Reverend and Mrs. Harrison took their pictures, and then Luke was opening the passenger door for me again.

  I’ve ridden in this car a hundred times. But tonight, felt different. Maybe it was the smell of the flowers, or the feel of the dress, or Luke beside me in a tux. But for a few seconds it all seemed real. And I liked the way it felt.

  “Are we picking up Caroline?” I asked him when we pulled up in front of the Ballentine.

  “No,” Luke said.

  The valet opened my door.

  “Trust me,” Luke said.

  And I realized that I did, at least about something like this. So when Luke walked around the car, I took the arm he offered me and we walked into the hotel like a couple out of a film from the 1930’s. Inside the lobby, Luke didn’t turn toward the restaurant. He led me straight back through the lobby. The doors to the ballroom were open, and I could see the crystal chandeliers twinkling with light. As we came through the doors, there was Caroline and most of the kids from Group, all dressed in formal wear, all smiling at us.

  “Welcome to prom,” Luke said.

  I couldn’t decide where to look first, at my friends, all dressed up, or the room, which was gorgeous. The dance floor shone, and the lights twinkled. There was even a large round table set for dinner.

  “I can’t believe you did this,” I said to the group of them.

  “We thought you would like this better than the other version,” Luke said.

  And he was right. But before I could tell him that, Caroline was coming over to hug me.

  “This room must cost a fortune,” I said as she wrapped her arms around me.

  “You’re worth it.”

  I hugged her back. “And your mom didn’t make you pay for it.”

  “That too.”

  Natalie was a pixie in pink. Ben looked healthy enough that you might not guess that cystic fibrosis is slowly smothering him to death. Josie and Kyle were both smiling, at the same time. The new girl, Miranda, wasn’t there. I thought she might have gone to the official prom. Or as I was thinking of it, the gaudy knock-off.

  Caroline yelled, “Let’s get this party started!”

  Natalie’s neighbor, Graham, hit a button, and the opening bars to “Footloose” started up. I laughed.

  “We can’t have an unofficial dance without the official anthem of unofficial dances,” Luke said.

  “Of course not,” I told him.

  And then Caroline was grabbing my hand.

  What followed could only be described as loosely coordinated mayhem. And it was fabulous. The music included songs that have never been grouped together in the history of humanity. But I loved it. Because it meant that each one of them had added to the list. The classic rock was Luke. And the heavy metal was Kyle. Josie added country, and Ben threw in some R&B. Caroline’s were the bands no one else had ever heard of. And when the music slid into “Unforgettable,” it had to be Natalie’s.

  Nat King Cole’s deep rich voice seeped into the room, and I smiled, until I realized that all of the others were pairing off.

  In less than a minute, Luke and I were the only ones left. He offered me a hand.

  “I’ve never done this kind of dancing before,” I said.

  “That’s okay,” he said. “I have.”

  I put my hand in his, and Luke led me a little way onto the dance floor.

  “Where did you learn to do this?” I asked him.

  “I go to a lot of weddings.” He turned to face me. “Do you know where your hands go?”

  I nodded. “I do watch old movies.” I put my left hand on his shoulder, feeling the smooth fabric of his tux jacket under my fingers.

  I knew what was coming, and I tried not to flinch when his right hand came to rest against my lower back. But my muscles still tensed up at his touch.

  “Try to relax.” Luke took my right hand in his left, and we started to dance.

  I did try. I wanted to be smooth and graceful. But I kept stumbling.

  “Aly.”

  I looked up.

  “T
ry looking at me instead of the floor.”

  “I don’t want to step on your toes or fall on my face.”

  “My toes are tougher than they look,” he said. “And you’re not going to fall. I’ve got you.”

  It’s what you say to people who are dangling over the edge of a cliff.

  “Just look at me,” he said.

  So I looked up at him. My whole body was tight. But Luke’s voice was steady and calm. “You don’t need to try and guess what I’m going to do next. You can feel it.”

  At first that didn’t make any sense. But after a few steps I began to understand what he meant. I could feel how his right hand pressed gently into my back when he was drawing me toward him and how his left arm tightened when he was asking me to take a step backwards.

  Barely a breath separated us. But I didn’t feel trapped. And for a few minutes, I could pretend that we weren’t ourselves. That Luke wasn’t terminal, and I didn’t have HIV. Instead, we were newlyweds dancing together at our wedding. It was easy to imagine. We were already in a ballroom, surrounded by our friends. Luke had the tux, and I had a white dress that just needed to extend to the floor and add a few flourishes. We were on the edge of everything good.

  Until the song ended. The carriage turned back into a pumpkin. We became ourselves again. And Luke let go of my hand.

  “Thanks for the dance.”

  “Anytime,” he said, just before he walked away.

  I stood alone on the dance floor, overly aware of the empty space that surrounded me. Luke had danced with me because it was polite. But he hadn’t stayed.

  I forced myself to push that thought away and join the others.

  After dinner, we all ended up on the back lawn, stretched out on blankets Caroline had dug out of a linen closet. The hotel was a blur of soft lights in the distance. But the space surrounding us was nothing but inky black sky and stars. Millions and millions of stars.

  “The stars are a nice touch,” I told Luke.

  “They’re part of the deluxe prom package,” he said from the darkness beside me. “The basic package only comes with twinkly lights.”

  I leaned back onto my hands and stared up at the beauty of our personal planetarium. “There are so many I can’t even find the North Star.”

  The dark shape of Luke’s arm pointed to my right. “There.”

  I followed the line of his sleeve and twinkling at the end was Polaris.

  “So that’s the Little Dipper.” I traced back from the North Star. “And the Big Dipper.”

  “I see Orion,” Luke said, “and Genghis Khan.”

  “We’re making up constellations now?”

  “Why not?”

  “Okay.” I looked back at the millions of tiny lights spread across the sky. “I have an artist’s palette and Mickey Mouse.” I used a finger to connect the dots for him.

  We sat there in the dark pointing out constellations until my arms were so cold I started to shiver. I felt more than saw Luke take off his tuxedo jacket and wrap it around my shoulders. I slid my arms into the sleeves, feeling the jacket’s warmth against my cold skin.

  “Thanks,” I told him.

  “Sure.”

  “I mean for more than the jacket. The whole night. I was dreading prom.”

  “I kind of figured,” he said.

  “But tonight has been amazing.”

  “Good. You deserve an amazing night.”

  Luke’s white shirt glowed a little in the dark. And I realized that he was closer than I thought. But that realization didn’t startle me. I liked knowing he was there, inches from me. It was the way we were on the dance floor, before the song ended, and he walked away. But this time he didn’t pull away. If anything, it felt like he was moving towards me.

  I knew that wasn’t possible. There was no logical reason why he would do that. I was sure that I was imagining it—until his arm brushed against mine.

  Then my heart started beating so fast I felt dizzy.

  Luke was close enough that I could hear his breaths.

  But he didn’t close the rest of the distance. He paused, waiting. And in that second, I felt another rush of love. Because Luke wasn’t going to push me into anything; he was giving me a choice. And for once, I knew what I wanted. I leaned toward him, shortening the distance between my cold lips and his warm mouth. Luke’s breath brushed against my cheek. Excitement was tingling through my body. He was going to kiss me. His body heat was warming up the air around me.

  And then it was gone.

  Luke had pulled back.

  And where I thought there had been warmth, there was nothing but cold, empty air.

  For the span of a breath, I was stunned and confused. Then the excitement in my chest twisted into something sharp and throbbing.

  What’s wrong with me?

  Why would I think Luke was about to kiss me?

  None of this was real. He asked me to prom out of pity. Just like last year he asked Becky Sylva, who has Down Syndrome.

  But for some stupid reason, I thought he had actually wanted me.

  I could see Luke’s white shirt in the dark, at least well enough to know where he was. Which meant he might have seen my white dress. He could have seen me leaning in with my eyes closed like one of the ugly stepsisters in a bad rendition of Cinderella.

  Humiliation burned the cold out of my face, and self-loathing sprouted up in the wake of the heat. I’m repulsive. Filthy. And stupid. So incredibly stupid.

  “Aly?” Luke’s voice said through the dark. “Are you okay?”

  No. But I wasn’t going to say that word out loud and make the moment any worse.

  “It’s getting late,” I managed. “Can you take me home?”

  “Oh. Sure.”

  Luke drove me home. But for once, we didn’t talk. We sat in awkward silence.

  I wished so badly that I could think about anything else, but I was caught in a humiliation hangover and nothing would penetrate my thoughts but that one horrible scene playing over and over again. Me leaning in, Luke pulling back. He practically jumped he was in such a rush to get away from me. I kept my hot face turned toward the passenger window and willed the car to move faster.

  When Luke pulled up in front of the Millers’ house, he barely had time to put the car in park before I was pulling off my seatbelt and opening the door. I threw a garbled thank you at him and rushed to get to the front door before he got out of the car. But I shouldn’t have worried. For the first time in his life, Luke didn’t walk me to the porch. He waited long enough to see me open the front door, and then he drove away.

  He was in that much of a rush to get away from me.

  Saturday, May 28

  I told myself it wouldn’t hurt so much in the morning.

  I was wrong.

  Sunday, May 29

  I didn’t go running yesterday. It was Saturday. But I couldn’t face Luke. And for once, he didn’t show up at the Millers’ to find out what was wrong. It was better that way. I didn’t want to see him. But at the same time, I hated that he didn’t show up. Because it means that everything’s changed.

  I didn’t want to see Luke. But tonight was the Sound of Music sing-a-long that I had convinced him to join. I didn’t want to go. But I had promised Natalie. And I knew I had to see Luke eventually. At least this way it would be with a crowd.

  When Caroline picked me up for the event, I didn’t tell her what happened Friday night. The whole situation was humiliating enough without having to relive it. So I got into her car and said nothing about Luke. I wasn’t sure what we were going to talk about, but I shouldn’t have worried. Caroline skipped over her scheduled devastation and filled the entire trip with commentary about prom. I didn’t hear most of it.

  But when we got to Redford Village Hall, I couldn’t ignore the six-foot-tall guinea pig cutouts that flanked the front doors of the building.

  “Holy guinea pigs,” Caroline said.

  All I could manage was, “Wow.”

 
; Caroline leaned toward me. “They’re following me with their eyes.”

  I pulled open the door. “Don’t look back.”

  Inside, we found a distraught looking Natalie waiting for us.

  “What’s wrong?” Caroline and I said at almost exactly the same time.

  Natalie led us away from the people who were beginning to arrive. When we were clear of the crowd, she whispered, “One of the clients is missing.”

  “Clients?” I asked.

  “The guinea pigs we help. Houdini was in the habitat by the doors into the hall, and now he’s gone.”

  “You named a guinea pig after an escape artist?” Caroline said. “Who does that?”

  “Not helping,” I mumbled.

  “You might as well name the thing Roadkill.”

  I shot Caroline a look before I told Natalie, “We’ll find him. Why don’t you start with the auditorium? Caroline can look backstage. I’ll do the lobby.”

  So, we split up to look for a missing rodent at a movie sing-a-long. I’ve had stranger days.

  I searched every inch of the lobby, trying to look casual as I ducked under tables and crawled into corners. Arriving guests gave me strange looks, but I ignored them.

  I unfortunately couldn’t ignore Luke when I stood up and almost ran into him.

  He took a step back. Luke, who always seems so sure of himself, looked awkward as he said, “Hi.”

  I couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Hi.”

  For a few seconds, we said nothing.

  Luke looked from his guitar case to my face. His fingers tightened on the case handle. “I’m sorry.”

  I was working to sound casual, but my words still came out forced. “Sorry for what?”

  For being stupid enough to invite me to the prom in the first place?

  “For leaving so fast Friday night.”

  “Oh. I didn’t even notice.”

  It was a lie. But I couldn’t tell Luke Harrison that I had leaned against a wall in the Millers’ foyer and struggled not to cry.

  Luke was studying my face, trying to see past the mask I was fighting to hold. I guess I won because he said, “Are we okay?”

  “We’re fine.”

  We’re right back where we started. He’s still Luke. And I’m still the girl with HIV.