Author's notes: The "red rose white rose" concept comes from Eileen Cheng. I am only paraphrasing.
Part One
*Teaser*
It was almost 2 a.m., though the concept meant little to the twenty-four hour reception area of the Carson Community Hospital emergency department. It was a slow night, and the nurse on duty yawned as she glanced up at the wall clock, and then over at the two black-suited men standing in the far corner of the waiting area, who were conversing quietly with one of the doctors on duty. A little to the side, a younger man in a leather jacket sat in one of the plastic chairs, his head propped up by one hand, looking deep in thought.
Suddenly, another young man burst through the entrance, darting up to the reception, followed closely by a woman with loose blonde curls. "Hi," the young man panted, his eyes an impossible shade of blue under the fluorescent lights. "I'm looking for Jacqueline Pratt. She was brought in about an hour ago?"
"Oh yes," the nurse said, flipping through the admissions file. "She's in 102B, recovering. It's not too serious. But it's only family members right now."
"Please," he leaned forward, and she could have sworn that his eyes had gotten bluer in their intensity. "I'm her boyfriend. I need to see her."
"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head.
"Please. Her mom's in New York, it'll take forever for her to get here and there's no one else. And I really need to see her."
"Well�" the nurse said, glancing at the doctor on duty. He was still deep in conversation with the suits.
"Please, miss," the blonde woman said. "Surely you can make an exception?"
"All right," the nurse said reluctantly, pointing toward a door further down the hallway. "Just don't let Dr. Maloney see you."
"Thank you," the boy said gratefully, darting toward the door.
Before he got there, the other young man rose from his seat. "Hamilton," he called, striding up. "Look, I�"
"Not now, Spencer," Hamilton Fleming said, striding past him without a single glance. He opened the door to 102B quietly and slipped into the room, closing the door gently behind him.
The room was empty except for Jake Pratt in the corner bed, her head propped up and her right leg elevated in a sling. "Oh my god, Jake," Hamilton exclaimed, rushing forward.
She had been staring out the window when he came in, but as she heard him she turned, her eyes growing bright with tears. "Hamilton," she said quietly, burying her face in his shoulder as he enveloped her in a giant hug.
"Shh," he whispered, "it's all right, it's all right now."
He couldn't see her face, but he could feel the violent tremors that rocked her body as she began to sob into his shoulder. That was unexpected and, as much as he loathed to admit it, completely disorienting. Jake wasn't a crier; he could count the number of times on one hand when she had cried in front of him. Yet here she was, her body racked with sobs, her face buried in his chest, clinging onto him as though she were afraid to let go. "What is it?" he demanded, pulling her back so he could survey her face. "How badly are you hurt?"
"I'm okay," she hiccupped. "Just a fractured ankle� but Hamilton, I'm so sorry�"
"Sorry for what?" he asked, hugging her again. "About the fight? God, I'm so sorry about that too. I shouldn't have left you alone�"
"No, you don't understand." Her voice was stifled against his chest. "Oh god, I'm so sorry� I've screwed up so badly and this is all my fault�"
"Stop it, Jake," he pulled back and looked at her again, kissing her on the temple. "You didn't screw anything up. We're okay, all right? We're gonna be okay. You're okay now."
"No," she shook her head, dropping her gaze as she reached for a Kleenex on the bedside table. "This wouldn't have happened if� if I didn't� This whole night's just been a nightmare, and I wish I could take it all back."
"You're not making sense," he said, gently easing her back against the bed. "We can talk about it in the morning, okay? We can talk about everything in the morning. Right now you should just get some rest�"
"No, I gotta say this," she exclaimed, grabbing him by the wrist. "Hamilton, you've got to believe me, it's never gonna happen again and I dunno why I let it happen in the first place, but I feel so horrible about it and�"
"What do you mean?" he asked, and for the first time this night, since he had received a panicked phone call from Spencer Harrison an hour ago, the notion finally sank in that there might be something here that could hurt him. Hurt him in a way that was different to seeing Jake, his Jake, lying here with bloody scrapes on her face and her foot in a sling. "What is it?" he asked again, staring at her.
"I don't know what I was thinking," she sobbed, her fingers scrabbling over his sleeve. "I'm so sorry."
"What did you do, Jake?" he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.
She stared at him, blinking back another fresh round of tears. "I kissed Spencer," she said slowly, her face crumpling. "I dunno what happened, I'm so sorry�"
"You� kissed Spencer?" he repeated blankly.
She was crying too hard to speak, only nodding as she pressed the Kleenex to her face, looking as though she wanted to hide herself from him at the same time.
He stared at her, open-mouthed, but the door opened before he could say anything else. "Excuse me," said Dr. Maloney, the doctor on duty, as he walked in with the two men from the waiting room. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave. These gentlemen have a few questions to ask Ms. Pratt."
"What's going on?" Hamilton demanded, looking wildly at the men. "Who are you?"
"We're from Homeland Security," one of the men said, taking hold of his shoulders and manoeuvring him outside the room, his grip gentle but firm. "We just need to talk to Ms. Pratt."
"Is she in trouble?" Hamilton exclaimed, trying to push his way in. Over the shoulders of the man he could see the other pull up a chair next to Jake's bed, and she was looking back at him, tears still running down her cheeks, an expression of abject horror on her face.
"Please, just give us a few minutes," said the man, and he closed the door in Hamilton's face, drawing the curtain around Jake's bed for good measure.
For a moment Hamilton just stood there, staring at the closed door as though he could see through it if he'd only tried hard enough. There was the faint sound of sobbing from the other side, but nothing else.
Slowly, an expression of dark fury dawned over his face. He turned on his heels and strode back into the waiting room, his footsteps measured, like a trained hunter looking for prey.
"Hamilton�" Kate Fleming said as she saw him emerge, rising from her seat. But he walked right past her and headed directly toward Spencer, who jumped to his feet.
"Hamilton," Spencer said quickly, holding up one hand. "Let me explain�"
With all his might, Hamilton punched Spencer full across the face, sending him sprawling to the floor.
Part Two
*opening credits and theme song*
Rawley Boys' Academy
"Structurally speaking, the most interesting thing about Catcher in the Rye is that it's written in the voice of what we call the unreliable first person narrator," said Finn, pacing the classroom. "We're privy to Holden Caulfield's internal monologue, but only to the extent he believes what he says and perceives. For example, he is baffled by other people's reactions to him when, to him, he is taking a simple walk through the park; what he doesn't seem to realise is that there is something sufficiently alarming about his appearance and behaviour that other people saw fit to become alarmed in the first place. There's always a difference between what we think is happening and what is in fact happening, and that usually depends on who is doing the perceiving."
"But Holden is an extreme example of that," Will Krudski spoke up from his seat at the front of the class.
"That's correct," Finn said, nodding. "In this respect he is showing us the extent to which a person could become isolated from his surroundings and even his own perception of reality, and how that can be connected to a period of tumult in his life."
The bell rang, punctuating the end of his sentence. All around Will, students got to their feet quickly, eager to leave the last class of the day. Amidst the confusion Will sneaked a quick look over at Scout Calhoun, who was packing up his books with no discernable hint of having heard this conversation, or having thought about how the situation might apply to him. As Will watched he zipped up his bag and promptly left, striding quickly through the crowds out in the hall.
"Guys," Finn called, suddenly remembering. "For those of you who ordered, don't forget to pick up your prom tickets at the registrar's office."
Will afforded himself a small grin. Amidst the chaos of the past few weeks, he had forgotten that prom was coming up. Rawley's prom had some pretty stringent attendance rules, though the school had finally relaxed on the policy that students could only bring dates who were similarly juniors and seniors at Rawley - thanks to some vigorous lobbying on the part of Caroline Busse and her posse of society girls desperate to bring their out-of-town boyfriends. As Maria Ishizuka was a sophomore, Will was glad for the change.
"Hey man," he said to Hamilton as they walked out of class. "It's pretty cool that you get to bring dates from outside Rawley. Jake's coming with you, right?"
"She was," Hamilton said woodenly.
Will glanced at him quickly. "What do you mean?"
"She's got a fractured ankle," Hamilton said, striding on ahead. "I don't think she's gonna show up for prom."
"Whoa," Will exclaimed, rushing forward to catch up. "Fractured ankle? When did this happen?"
"Last night." Hamilton still wasn't looking at him. "I don't wanna talk about it."
"Well," Will said, flabbergasted. "Is she all right?"
"She'll live," Hamilton said coldly. "Look, I said I don't wanna talk about it."
"Okay, okay," Will said, holding up his hands. "I'm sorry. Listen�"
"Will!" Finn called from behind him, poking his head out of the classroom. "May I speak to you for a sec?"
"Um, sure," he looked over his shoulder. "I'll be right there. Hey, Hamilton�"
He turned around: Hamilton was already several feet ahead, striding away without looking back. Shaking his head with a nonplussed sigh, Will turned and jogged back to the classroom.
"What is it, Finn?" he asked, walking up to the teacher's desk.
"Have a seat," Finn said, nodding toward one of the front-row desks.
"Am I in trouble?" Will asked, furrowing his brows as he sat down, setting his bag on the floor. "Nothing's wrong with the scholarship, right?"
"No, it's nothing like that," Finn said, pushing his reading glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Don't look so worried."
Will chuckled. "When people get you to sit down before they tell you stuff, it's rarely a good sign."
"Believe me, this is nothing of the sort," Finn got out from behind his desk. "I wanted to talk to you about Scout, actually."
"Scout?"
"Scout," Finn repeated, perching himself on the edge of his desk, brandishing a small envelope. "In particular, the double prom ticket he ordered, uh, before�"
"Before the accident," Will finished for him, with dawning realisation. "Right."
"The rest of you guys are picking your tickets up from the registrar's office," Finn said, looking down at the envelope. "But somehow I don't think he'll be picking his up in a hurry." He handed the envelope to Will. "So I'm giving them to you. I think you'll be a better judge of what to do with them."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Will said, reaching inside the envelope to pull out an embossed invitation, printed on heavy eggshell-coloured card. "Scout Calhoun and guest," he read out loud, his eyes clouding over as he put the invitation back into the envelope and handed it to Finn. "Look, I know why you'd come to me, but seriously, I don't think I'm the man for the job these days."
"Why?"
"Because Scout hasn't been himself since�" Will trailed off, shaking his head. "I went to see him over Spring Break, Finn, and you should've seen him. He's like a completely different person. He wouldn't talk to any of us and most of the time he still acts like there's absolutely nothing wrong. I haven't been able to get through to him."
Finn leaned back, looking thoughtful. "I didn't realise things were this bad. I thought the time away from school might have been good for him. When I saw him back at school I just thought�" he shrugged. "Well, I thought he must be dealing okay."
"I was surprised to see him back here," Will admitted.
"I know it's a difficult situation for you," Finn said, pressing the envelope back in Will's hands. "But I still think you're the best person to do this. Just talk to him, see what he wants to do with them. I mean, we'll all understand if he doesn't want to come to prom, but� see if his mind can be changed. It's a rite of passage, after all."
"No offence, Finn," Will said dully, standing up. "But I think having your girlfriend pass away at seventeen is probably a bigger rite of passage than prom could ever be."
"Ain't that the truth," Finn said, giving him a sad smile. "Thanks for doing this, Will."
"Any time," Will sighed and walked out, tucking the envelope into his shirt pocket as he went.
*Will's voiceover starts*
'We're faced with choices every day. Most of the time they are so insignificant that we barely notice what we're doing: what to have for breakfast, what movie to rent. At other times the choices are harder because we know they're going to have a bearing on our future: what to study in college, what job to apply for. The bigger the choice, the bigger the risk. There's always a little voice in the back of our heads, asking, "what if you made the wrong choice? Could life have turned out better the other way?" Those are the questions we can never find the answers to. Perhaps that's a blessing in disguise.'
***
The gas station
Josh Sutherland stood under the shade of the gas station, staring at Bella's front door. He inhaled, tucking his hands in his pockets, then exhaled deeply, his pained expression looking as though he was facing his own execution.
Looking as though he finally made up his mind, he took two steps forward, striding up to the door. Before he quite made it, however, he stopped again and retreated, kicking the ground in frustration.
Across the road, Ryder Forrest watched him from inside the diner, having a full view of the gas station � and Josh � from the vantage point of the corner booth. A smile was playing about his face, in equal parts indulgence and unadulterated amusement.
"He's been doing that for twenty minutes," Sean McGrail said, joining Ryder with a heaped tray. "Did anyone remember to tell him that Bella's not home? She's at Jake's, playing nursemaid."
"She's not?" Ryder asked, smirking. "That's great. I imagine he'll figure it out soon enough."
"You're not exactly playing the supportive boyfriend," Sean said, taking a giant bite out of a cheeseburger. "Shouldn't you, I dunno, go tell him? I mean, the guy's obviously freaked out about something, and you're just sitting here looking all smug."
"It's more fun to watch him," Ryder said, taking a French fry off Sean's tray. "I've got a bet against myself on how long it takes for him to actually get inside."
"I want in," Sean grinned. "I say another ten minutes at least."
Ryder undid his watch and laid it down on the table. "Ten quid says he'll be in within five."
"You're on." Sean took another bite of the burger. "So how did it go with the talent scout last night? I assume this is what that," he nodded toward Josh, "is all about?"
Ryder nodded. "Let's just say they have to work out some issues between themselves first."
"So this isn't gonna be their big break?" Sean looked surprised. "Bummer. Judging by the show last night, I woulda thought it was in the bag. I guess you never know how those album label guys think."
Ryder shrugged, taking another fry. "It's all about image. I keep telling him."
"I guess the band could use a head like yours. You should be, like, their manager. Book them gigs, sweet-talk club owners. I totally see you doing that, man."
Ryder looked thoughtful, watching Josh pace up and down Bella's front porch.
"What are your plans after graduation, anyway?" Sean asked. "I can't believe it's in like three weeks. That's freaking hardcore, man. I'm so glad I'm a junior cos I have no idea what I wanna do. Well, football scholarship, hopefully," he took another bite of burger. "But who knows. I'm just glad I have another whole year to figure it out."
"I haven't thought about it," Ryder said, eyeing the tray again. Sean pushed it in his direction and Ryder couldn't help a smile, picking up another fry. "My father cut me off last year, as you know, which means no job waiting in London."
"Blank slate."
"Tabula rasa," Ryder agreed, spreading his hands with a smirk. "Suddenly that band manager idea isn't looking too bad after all."
The bell above the door tinkled and they looked up to see Josh walk in. "She wasn't home!" he exclaimed, sliding into the booth. "After all this time I spent trying to make up my mind! I can't believe it."
"Ten quid," Ryder said to Sean, putting his watch back on.
"I hope you don't actually expect me to pay you in British pounds," Sean laughed. "I have enough trouble with American money, as in 'not enough of'."
Ryder raised an eyebrow. "You're the one who wanted to gamble. I wasn't twisting your arm and you lost fair and square."
Josh looked from Ryder, to Sean, then back to Ryder again. "You guys weren't betting on me, were you?" he asked suspiciously.
Ryder and Sean both shrugged, their faces identical masks of innocence.
***
Susan's house
"How are you feeling?" asked Bella as she sat down gingerly by Jake's bedside, examining the ace bandage around the other girl's ankle. "That doesn't look too comfortable."
"It doesn't feel too comfortable," Jake affirmed with a wry grin. "But I guess I got off easy. Didn't even need a cast. The doctor just told me to stay off the foot for a couple of weeks and I should be fine."
"What made you do it, Jake? I don't mean to sound all preachy but you could have really hurt yourself out there. I mean, it's only been like a month since Faye�" Bella turned away, discreetly trailing a hand across her cheek. "God, what if something had happened to you, Jake? We both know it could've been a lot worse."
"Yeah," Jake said softly. "I know."
"So what happened?" Bella demanded. "Why were you in Carson in the first place?"
"I was running," Jake said quietly, looking toward the window. The sunlight coated her eyes with an amber sheen, making them opaque and unreadable, almost as though she were going blind.
"Running?" Bella furrowed her brows. "From what?"
"For the last couple of months," Jake said, still not looking at her. "I've been doing some hacking."
"But you've always done that."
"This is different." Jake's gaze dropped. "I've been hacking into Governmental stuff. Military databases, mainly. High security stuff."
"Oh my god," Bella murmured. "Why?"
Jake shrugged. "Just cos we could. We weren't trying to find anything or use any of the information on there; we just wanted to see what were we capable of doing."
"Who's 'we', Jake?" Bella asked quietly, leaning forward. There was something sharp and inquisitive in her gaze, simultaneously curious and weary, as though she was already sure of the answer.
"Spencer," Jake said quietly, not looking up.
Bella leaned back again, at a loss for words, even though the name was not a shock by any means. "Oh, Jake," she said finally, with a heavy sigh.
"Last night," Jake continued, as though she hadn't heard. "A couple of guys from Homeland Security paid us a visit. I freaked and told Spencer to get on the bike and we just� left. For Carson. I didn't know what I was doing, I just� ran."
"And that's when you crashed?"
To Bella's intense surprise, she saw a tear roll down Jake's cheek. "What is it, Jake?" Bella exclaimed, getting to her feet. "Are you in pain? Can I get you anything?"
"No," Jake said, shaking her head and wiping the tear away. "It's not that."
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yeah," Jake said with a slight sniffle, reaching for a Kleenex. "I'm okay. It's just� God, everything's so screwed up."
"But hey, you're not in jail or anything, right?" Bella said, trying to sound cheerful. "So I'm guessing those Homeland Security guys didn't do too much damage?"
Jake shook her head. "In the end they just wanted to talk. They took my laptop. Said they might have to sue if I did it again. But they knew we weren't mercs or doing it as a part of some big conspiracy, so they just let us off with a warning."
"See?" Bella grinned. "You got off easy. We should be celebrating."
Jake shook her head again, her lower lip quivering. "I wish that's all it was," she choked out. "But�"
"But what, Jake? What aren't you telling me?"
"When we got to Carson," Jake said, drawing in a laboured breath. "Spencer kissed me."
Bella stared at her, her jaw slackening. "And�?"
Jake swallowed, averting her eyes. "I kissed him back."
"Oh," Bella said, stunned. "That's� um�"
"I know I screwed up."
"No, Jake," Bella said, sighing. "You know how I feel about this, but you're my friend, and I know you've been having a hard time. We all deal with things differently."
"And when it comes to Hamilton," Jake said with a forced laugh. "Well, he's not dealing at all, apparently."
"You told him?"
"I didn't have a choice. Everything happened so fast, then he was at the hospital and I was blindsided and I just�" Jake shook her head, wiping away another tear. "I just blurted it out. And you should've seen him, Bella. The look on his face." She let loose another sob, at the same time looking furious with herself for letting these tears get the better of her. "It was like he didn't wanna know me."
"And then what did he do?"
"He walked out. Punched Spencer, according to his mom. She took me home in her car and he didn't say a single word to me since."
"That's� really harsh, Jake," Bella murmured.
"Can you blame him?"
"Well, yeah. You were in an accident and you're hurt. No matter what happened between you and Spencer, Hamilton should be here. He's still your boyfriend."
That prompted a bitter laugh. "You wanna bet on that last part?" Jake asked. "Somehow I don't think he wants to be my boyfriend anymore."
"Just because you kissed another guy once doesn't mean you guys are completely over," Bella said, frowning. "I mean, come on. How long have you guys been together now? How much have you been through together? This is just one more obstacle that you have to face."
"I'm not sure he sees it like that."
Bella fell silent, looking down at her hands. At length she asked, "Has anyone called your mom?"
Jake nodded. "She should be coming around tonight. She just finished a play on Broadway."
"And Spencer?" Bella asked carefully. "Has he been around?"
"He's called a couple of times," Jake replied, with another long sigh. "I told him I don't wanna talk."
"When you kissed him," Bella's voice was low. "Did it�" she paused, looking lost as to how to phrase the question. "How did it feel?" she asked finally.
Jake looked away again, her lip quivering.
"Maybe that's the worst part," she whispered. "I liked it. I really liked it, Bella, and that's the part that scares me. I think Hamilton knows that."
Bella didn't have an answer to that. She only reached out, touching Jake gingerly on the shoulder, and Jake turned her face away, blinking away more tears. Together they watched the window, the bright sun, the sky outside.
Part Three
The diner
"I didn't expect to see you here," Will said as he walked over the Scout's booth near the back of the diner. "Can I sit?"
Scout shrugged. "It's a free country."
Will sat. "What are you doing here?"
Scout gave him a quizzical look. "Like I said, it's a free country. People hang out here after school. It's what kids our age do."
"I just didn't bank on you 'hanging out' here lately," Will said uncomfortably.
"I'm meeting someone," Scout said, but did not elaborate.
Will wasn't sure he cared to know more about this elusive 'someone' anyway, what with Scout's track record in Greenwich. "I'm glad I caught you," he merely said, leaning forward. "Look, there's something I need to talk to you about."
Scout took a sip from his glass of Coke. "Shoot."
Will took a deep breath. "As you know, prom is coming up."
Scout looked semi-amused. "You know, I had forgotten all about it."
"Well, Finn hasn't." Will pulled the envelope containing Scout's invitation out of his shirt pocket and slid it across the booth. "He wanted me to give these to you."
Scout looked down at the envelope, not picking it up. "I forgot that I ordered these, too," he said softly.
Will bit his lip. "I'm not trying to� dig up painful memories or anything, man."
"Funny," Scout said, looking him in the eye. "Seemed like that was all you wanted to do, back home in Spring Break."
Will stared back, feeling his mouth go dry. This Scout was yet another version that he hadn't encountered, lucid and straightforward, making no pretenses whatsoever. "I�" he said, but found that he could not go on.
Scout held his gaze for a moment longer before he dropped it. "Thanks for the tickets," he said, picking up the envelope and carelessly tucking it into his own shirt pocket. "I suppose I better find myself a date to the Prom."
"That's not what I meant," Will said hurriedly. "Finn just wanted me to talk to you about it; you don't have to feel as though you have to go."
"You're a bundle of contradictions, Will," Scout said, standing up. "Has anyone ever told you that?"
Will wanted to say something in return, but once more he found himself strangely unable to speak as Scout walked past him, carelessly patting Will on the shoulder as he went.
***
Rawley Boys' Academy
Bella stomped down the halls of the boys' dormitory, a blur of purposeful stride and bright blonde hair, looking like a woman on a mission.
The mere fact that a girl was in the boys' dorms was a rare event in itself, never mind one that was both hot and angry-looking. She ignored the catcalls coming from the direction of the stairwell, not even bothering to look up as she strode right into the common room. "Hamilton Fleming!" she exclaimed, her hands on her hips. "I want a word with you."
Hamilton was sitting on the couch, halfway through a Playstation game with Michael Tan. "What are you doing here, Bella?" he asked, getting to his feet.
She glared. "What are you doing here?"
"Uh," he looked around uncertainly. "I live here."
"Uh huh," she said impatiently, crossing her arms. "And where's your girlfriend right now?"
His expression darkened. "That's none of your business, Bella. And if you're here to try and meddle, then I suggest you go home right now."
"You just try and make me," she said as she grabbed him by the arm and forcibly dragged him out of the common room. "You and I are gonna have a talk."
"Ow!" he shouted, letting himself be yanked along. "What the hell are you on? There's nothing to talk about�"
"Fine," she said huffily, dragging him out of the halls, past hordes of guys laughing at his sorry predicament, and out onto the stone landing outside the main doors. "Then you can listen."
He yanked back his arm, rubbing it with a resentful expression. "That hurt, you know."
"Believe me, it's gonna hurt a lot worse if you don't go and visit Jake."
"This is none of your business, Bella," he said, his voice growing dangerously low. "I'm not gonna tell you again. Stay out of it."
"Or you'll what? Ignore me too? Hamilton Fleming, you're a jerk."
He glared at her, his jawline tightening.
"What, you wanna disagree with that?" she challenged, narrowing her eyes. "Look, Jake told me what happened, and I know she's not exactly innocent in this, but that doesn't matter. She's hurt and she's sorry, and she needs you. You owe it to her to at least visit."
He turned his head sharply, not speaking.
"Even Spencer's been calling�"
"What Spencer does," he spat the name out. "You might be surprised to know doesn't concern me."
"Bull," she said sharply. "Cut the crap, Hamilton. I know you're hurt. But right now it's not about you and your hang-ups about your relationship. It's about Jake."
"Fine, if you wanna talk about Jake, then let's talk about Jake," he exclaimed angrily. "What should we talk about? The fact that she's had a crush on him for months, been hanging out with him for months, been talking about him for months like some prize project, but whenever I bring him up she acts like I'm the one who's being all unreasonable and jealous? Or how about ditching you guys' big gig last night to go joyriding with him? Or," he laughed bitterly. "Should we be talking about how they made out last night before she goes and gets herself into that accident and how she had the gall to tell me about it right there in the hospital? I had been freaking out all the way in the car to Carson because I was scared to death about her safety, and what do I get? A bombshell the size of the one dropped on Hiroshima. What am I supposed to feel, huh, Bella? She cheated on me!"
"It's not like she slept with him," Bella said, dropping her voice. "It was one kiss, and she's feeling so bad about it, you can't even imagine."
"Oh, I think I can," he said darkly. "Why are you treating this like it's not a big deal?"
"Because she kissed him once? God, Hamilton, cut her some slack! It's not like you've never been tempted by anyone else�"
"I haven't," he interrupted her, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"Haven't what?"
"Haven't been tempted by anyone else," he said, averting his gaze. "Never."
She fell silent, looking at him incredulously. "You're saying you've never had a crush on anybody else since you two got together."
"Don't you get it, Bella?" he asked quietly, turning back to her, his eyes an anguished clear blue in the afternoon light. "She's the one. She always has been, and there's never gonna be anyone else."
She stared at him, lost for words.
"And it's not even that she kissed him. I can get over that." He shook his head, blinking rapidly and turning away again. "But I could never have done it. That's what hurts, don't you get it? That's she's capable of walking away like this. I love her more than she loves me, we both know it."
"Hamilton," she said, stunned. "That's not true."
"I'm okay with that," he said quietly. "I've always been okay with that part. I mean, with all relationships, one person has to give more than the other, right? It's just the way things go. But� I can't bear the thought that she can fall in love with someone else. It just hurts too much."
"She's not in love with Spencer," Bella said desperately. "She's not. God, you think we can't tell the difference? It's different with you and Jake, it always is�"
"But that's not the point either," he interrupted, sounding very tired. "The point is that she could fall in love with him, if she gets enough time and space and�" he shrugged, looking away. "But me? I don't think I can ever fall in love again. She's the forever person, Bella. I'm never gonna be all right without her."
"If you love her that much," she said at length, staring intently at him. "Then go to her. Otherwise it's all just words, Hamilton. You say so much but it's just words if you don't act on them."
"I don't know if I can bear to look her in the face right now," he said, his jaw tightening again. "Look, Bella, I know you meant well, coming here, but go home. This doesn't concern you."
"Hamilton," she said, sighing, but he turned on his heels and strode back inside, not looking back.
"Damn," she swore under her breath, leaning back against the stone guardrail and staring up at the sky.
"Trying to solve people's problems again?" a voice asked from behind her. She turned around with a startled gasp.
It was Scout standing at the foot of the steps. "Sorry," he said, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Didn't mean to scare you."
"Yeah, well," she shrugged, walking down to join him. "Our resident 'Mr. Solve It' hasn't been feeling like himself lately, so someone's gotta pick up the slack."
He managed a small smile at that, which took her rather by surprise. "Fair enough," he said.
"You look like you're�" she said cautiously, "� in a good mood."
He shrugged, leading the way down to the docks. "Okay, I guess."
"I haven't really talked to you since you got back."
"I've been busy."
"Yeah," she turned to him. "I've seen you walking around town talking to that blonde girl. Who is she?"
"Someone from a long time ago."
"Well," she said, a little thrown by the lack of information. "It's good that you're talking to someone."
He didn't answer, striding on ahead down the docks. There were other kids sitting at the edge of it, looking out over the lake with their bare feet dangling in the water. He watched them absently, looking thoughtful.
She followed him. "Scout? You all right?"
"Come to prom with me," he said, not turning around.
She blinked. "Did you just� ask me to go to the prom with you?"
He turned around nonchalantly. "So how about it?"
"Uh, why? I mean� that's not what I meant. I just meant� are you sure? How did you even know that David and I broke up?"
"I didn't," he said matter-of-factly. "I need a date for the prom, and you're my friend. So do you wanna come or not?"
"Wait, Scout," she stuttered. "Just wait a minute. Where's this coming from? I didn't even know you were going to prom. I mean, after everything I just assumed�"
"Well, I'm going," he interrupted her. The light glanced off his eyes, making them look like opaque glass. "It's supposed to be one of those high school rites of passage, right? How can I not go?"
"Is that your sarcastic voice?" she asked with a nervous chuckle. "Cos it's kinda hard to tell sometimes."
"I'm being serious."
"Yeah," she murmured. "I was kinda afraid of that. Look, Scout, I'm not sure it's a good idea. It just seems like you're rushing things�"
"Rushing what? I told you we'd only be going as friends."
"Not rushing us, Scout. There's no us. I'm talking about you rushing yourself. Trying to make yourself get over�" She sighed. "Ever since the accident you've been acting as though it didn't matter, as though you're fine with it. But you're not fine, Scout. When are you going to admit that?"
He stared at her for a long time, immobile, his outline backlit by the sun. She fought the urge to look away.
"So are you coming with me or not?" he asked finally, his tone cheerful. "Cos you know, there's a few other girls I could ask, but I'd really like it if you'd come. You know what these Rawley functions are like, Bella. We could stand around and mock all hell out of it. We'll have a great time."
"Scout�" she said wearily.
He cut her off. "So what do you say?" he asked shrilly, and for a moment she thought she saw a flash of something dark and horrible in his eyes, a desperate clinging, like a drowning man fighting to keep his head above water.
"Sure," she said, with an inaudible sigh. "I'd love to."
***
The diner
From his seat at the diner counter, Pagan Leigh saw Grace Banks crossing the street long before she came in the door. Looking like he had absolutely no idea what to do with himself, he alternated between a careless slouch and a bright, attentive grin for several seconds before she came in the door. When she did catch sight of him, he was caught halfway between the poses, managing only a weak, awkward smile.
"Hey," she said, walking up.
"Uh, hi," he said, and as an afterthought, "Grace."
"I hear that's my name," she said, hopping up onto a stool. "So where's the usual plate of fries?"
"Oh," he said, looking flabbergasted. "I guess I forgot to order it."
She glanced at him with a small grin. He looked back, and as their eyes met they blushed simultaneously, looking away again.
"Yeah," she said after a moment of silence. "I guess we, uh, better order."
"Yeah," he echoed, sneaking another look at her.
There was another moment of uncomfortable silence. He eyed her hands resting on the table, frowning a little, almost in concentration, as he edged his own hand closer.
"Um," she said. "So who's gonna order?"
He drew back, startled. The action was so oddly violent that he almost toppled backwards off his stool. "Um," he said, blushing furiously. "You know what? I kinda just remembered I have this, uh, thing. Back at school. So� um, I'll see you later?"
She looked perplexed. "All right."
"Okay, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he said hurriedly, dashing out of the diner.
She watched him go, unsure whether to laugh or roll her eyes.
***
Ryder's room
"Now this is better," Josh mused in a muffled voice, his head disappearing inside Ryder's closet. "Your clothes are on this side, and mine are over here."
"I don't get why you have to keep all your clothes here," Ryder said from beside the open window, waving cigarette smoke into the night air outside. "You have your own room, you know."
"Yeah, but I don't wanna sneak out of your room every morning wearing the same clothes as the day before," Josh said, withdrawing from the closet and turning with a smile.
Ryder raised an eyebrow. "As opposed to sneaking out of my room every morning wearing fresh clothes? This might come as a surprise to you, but I think everyone in this building knows we're sleeping together."
"You don't have to look so smug about it," Josh laughed, walking up to him.
"Why not?" Ryder pulled Josh close, placing one hand on the small of his back. "We waited this long to do this and I have to say, caring about what other people think is not high on the top of my priorities."
"I'm surprised Finn hasn't said anything," Josh mused, absently running his fingers through Ryder's shorn hair.
"I think we still have a get out of jail free card," Ryder said, his eyes glittering with amusement as he tossed the remains of his cigarette outside and pulled Josh even closer, kissing him quickly.
Josh kissed him back. "Doesn't it feel just a little wrong that we're� excused by this?"
"We spent enough time being miserable," Ryder murmured against his lips. "And you know what Faye would say."
Josh smiled. "She'd tell us to milk it for all it's worth."
"You know it," Ryder murmured, kissing him again, deeper this time, his teeth tugging playfully on Josh's lower lip. "And," he said, his voice husky. "No matter who else we decide not to listen to or give a damn about, we really have to listen to her because she knows best."
Josh pulled back, wrapping both arms around Ryder's neck. "I'm so glad you're here," he said quietly. "With me."
Ryder smiled. "You sound surprised."
"Well," Josh exhaled, looking toward the open window. "If someone told me two months ago that we'd be doing this now, I would've laughed in their face."
"And what if you told them," Ryder said slowly, pulling something out of his pocket. "About this?"
It was a piece of heavy white card. He waved it in front of Josh's face, looking like he was caught halfway between his usual smirk and a genuine smile.
Josh took the card and opened it, scanning the contents. "It's your prom ticket."
"That's right, Sherlock."
"It says 'Ryder Forrest and guest'."
"Wow, so he can read too," Ryder's tone was mildly, indulgently sarcastic as he placed a light kiss along Josh's neck, then another. "Better hold onto this one."
"Be serious, Ryder. What does this mean?"
"Not too bright though," Ryder said, with a teasing glint in his eye.
"You want to take me to the prom," Josh said before he groaned, rolling his eyes. "I can't believe I just said that. Contrary to all my protestations I really think I'm turning into a sixteen-year-old girl."
"I'd love you anyway," Ryder said, chuckling as he kissed Josh again. "Even if you were a sixteen year old girl."
"I bet you would," Josh said sternly, though he couldn't help a smile from flitting across his face, softening his expression tenfold. "Seriously?" he whispered, pressing his forehead to Ryder's. "You want us to go to prom together?"
"Who else would I go with?"
"I dunno, one of your hundreds of slutty moppets that you keep on tap? I mean, you must've ordered these tickets before you had any idea we'd actually end up here, together."
"I am taking a slutty moppet. Chief slutty moppet. Queen of all my slutty moppets."
Josh couldn't help chuckling as he leaned into the embrace, brushing his lips against Ryder's. "You're gonna pay for that."
"I can't wait," Ryder murmured back, pulling him into a long kiss.
***
Susan's house
"I can't believe Hamilton hasn't come around," Will said quietly to Susan as they washed dishes in the kitchen. Leaning back, he cast a glance into the living room, where Jake was sitting with her injured foot propped up on a chair, talking quietly to her mother, who had arrived only a couple of hours ago.
"I hate seeing her like this," Susan replied with a frown, carefully drying a plate and putting it back in the cupboard. "She's always been independent, and now suddenly she's so helpless, and her boyfriend doesn't even care enough to visit. I thought Hamilton was better than that."
"There are circumstances, mom," Will mused quietly, sneaking another look into the living room. "If you saw the way Hamilton was acting this morning�" he shrugged, passing her another plate to dry. "It's weird. I never thought they could be that couple, you know? The ones with problems too big to solve. It's Jake and Hamilton, mom. I feel like they've been together since forever."
"Just because you've been together forever doesn't mean you don't grow out of each other eventually," she said quietly.
He looked thoughtful, but did not say anything else.
In the living room, Jake was trying not to break down into tears again as she looked into her mother's concerned eyes. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I don't know what happened. One minute everything's fine and suddenly things are all falling apart�"
"It's my fault," Monica said, grasping her daughter's hand. "I should've come around more. I promised you I was going to pay more attention to you, and I haven't even visited once since you started this new school�"
"It's not you, mom," Jake sighed. "Even though I'd like it if you visited more often."
"I will, baby, I promise." Monica said earnestly.
"Everything just fell apart after Faye died," Jake whispered, her lower lip quivering. "I didn't know what to do� everything just seemed so pointless all of a sudden and�"
"That's when you started hacking?"
Despite everything, Jake had to smile at her mother's naivety. "I started hacking a long time before that, mom."
"Oh," Monica said, looking a little taken aback.
"But I guess it wasn't that serious until now," Jake said, her voice dropping. "Until Spencer."
Monica looked at her, worry creasing her forehead. "Honey, you want to tell me what's going on? Hamilton hasn't been by all day, and every time the name 'Spencer' is mentioned, everyone looks so uncomfortable. What's going on?"
Jake looked up at her mother, her lower lip quivering. "Mom," she whispered. "I don't know what to do. I'm so lost."
Her face brimming with emotion, Monica reached over and gathered Jake into a hug, furrowing her brows as she listened to Jake sob quietly into her shoulder.
Part Four
The Dean's House
"You haven't touched your food," Kate said to Hamilton.
The two of them were seated at one end of the dining room table, with only two place settings. The rest of the table stretched away from them; they both studiously ignored the empty space that should have otherwise been occupied. Steven Fleming was hardly home at all these days: he ate at the office and more often than not slept there as well. It was as if he'd been waiting for Kate to announce that she was leaving him. If Hamilton didn't know better, he would have thought that perhaps his father was relieved. Finally he didn't need an excuse to come home anymore. Finally he could be at peace with his work, and nothing besides.
It was unfair to think this way, Hamilton knew. But like his mother he too had abandonment issues. It was hard not to, growing up in the Fleming house. True, his abandonment issues were not like those of other boys: there were never any missed Little League games or fishing trips because Hamilton didn't do baseball and neither he nor his dad were much good in boats - other than the kind where seven other guys rowed in time behind you while a skinny kid in a baseball cap counted strokes by yelling in your face - but there were always other things. The Sunday picnics that his mother took meticulous care to prepare. The photography portfolio that made it to the Promising Young Photographer of the Year, Massachusetts under-15s division, which he didn't win at any rate, but that was hardly the point. The point was this: he and his mom were sitting down for their usual Sunday meal, and there was a gaping hole in this room, forged by the absence of his father, though in reality the man had been absent for many years now.
"You haven't touched your food," she said again, as though demanding a reply.
"Yeah I have," he said automatically.
"You've spent the past half hour pushing your mashed potatoes around your plate, making little molehills and filling them up with gravy," she said mildly. "I'm yet to see you take a single bite. Is my cooking really that awful?"
"I'm sorry, mom," he said with a sigh. "It's not your cooking. It's me."
"I figured as much," she said, putting down her fork and dabbing her mouth with a napkin. "It's been four days since the accident, Munchie. You're still not talking to her?"
He shrugged, looking down again.
"Hamilton�"
"I'm not angry," he interrupted, making yet another molehill out of his potatoes. "Really, I'm not."
She paused, looking at him quizzically. "That was unexpected."
"I was," he stressed, putting down his fork. "For the longest time - before all of this happened - I was frustrated and stressed and, yeah, so angry. But not anymore. I just�" He sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know. I'm so tired of thinking about this."
"I hate to see you like this," she said. And then, after a moment, more tentatively: "will you two be all right?"
"I don't think it exactly depends on me," he said with a sigh.
"So talk to her."
He looked up, his eyes like blank blue glass. "What would I say? It's up to her, it always is. That's how we work, Jake and me." A pause, and he added quietly, "Sometimes I hate her for it."
"Hamilton!" she exclaimed, unable to hide her shock.
"God, I didn't mean that," he said, turning his head to stare over the empty expanse of table. "No, I think I do. Just a little. I don't know anything anymore."
"Do you still love her?" she asked after a pause.
"Of course." His reply was muffled.
"Do you still want to be with her?"
He didn't answer.
***
Susan Kruski's house
Jake sat on the porch swing outside Susan's house, looking forlorn in the fading light. It was late spring and the air was balmy, but she'd wrapped a blanket around her shoulders nonetheless. She was wearing a knee-length skirt and her legs were bare underneath, her left ankle wrapped securely in an ace bandage. A pair of crutches lay on the porch floor beside the swing.
She stared down the quiet street. The sun had an odd, worn quality to it, like a disc of well-used metal. The evening light was similarly metallic, with just a hint of red like slowly encroaching rust.
A figure came walking slowly up the garden path. She stirred and bit her lower lip as she watched him walk up, but turning away before their eyes met.
"I don't even get a hello?" Spencer asked with a wistful smile, walking up the porch steps.
She shrugged, not meeting his eyes.
He made a move as though to join her on the swing, but thought better of it. "I came by to see how you're doing," he said simply, leaning back against the railing instead.
"Fine," she said, not looking at him, though she could feel a faint blush crawl up her neck nonetheless.
"How long will you need crutches for?"
"A couple of weeks."
He nodded. Silence followed, the weight of it dense and muffling, unable to be lifted by the light evening breeze. He looked at her, almost as though he was willing her to say something. Instead she kept avoiding his eyes, staring down at her bandaged ankle instead.
"I'm not gonna apologise for what happened," he said finally, sticking his hands in his pockets.
"What do you mean," she murmured, the question coming out sounding more like a statement.
"You know what I mean. I want to be with you, Jacqueline. Don't pretend you don't know it."
"I'm not pretending," she said, her voice very soft.
"Then don't keep thinking that if you ignore it for long enough, it'll go away. That I'll go away."
"What do you want me to say?" she said, looking up. "Spencer, I can't just� what do you want me to do?"
"When I'm with you," he said, not answering her question. "It's like everything makes sense, you know? I love being with you because you understand everything that goes on in my head. I can talk to you about anything. And I know you feel the same way about me."
She didn't answer, looking away again. Her blanket has fallen from her shoulders, but she didn't seem to notice. Instead, she had latched onto only one corner of it, her fingers absently worrying the threads that were starting to come undone at the seam.
"Look, I'm not gonna push," he said quietly. "I know it's all comin' at you too fast and you can't think. I get that."
She looked back at him, but still she did not say anything.
"I just wanna let you know where I stand," he said, their eyes finally locking. There was something unnerving about his gaze, as though he could see right into her if she'd let down her defences even just a little. She could feel something warm and acidic run through her on the strength of this look alone. She fought the urge to turn away.
"I don't wanna just be your friend, Jacqueline. And I have a feeling you don't just wanna be mine, either. You felt something when we kissed." It was a statement, not a question. He held her gaze.
"That doesn't mean�"
"I'm fully aware of that. But think of what it could mean if you'd let it."
"Spencer," she said, her voice faltering. With an effort she broke eye contact, looking down with a sigh.
"Like I said, I'm not gonna push," he said, easing himself from the porch. "You know where I live. Or," he nodded at her crutches with a smile. "You know my phone number. If you make up your mind, give me a call and I'll come running. I know it's not exactly playing things cool and disinterested, but I've been doing that for months now, and frankly I'm tired of it. If you decide that you wanna be with me, I'll be here waiting."
She watched him as he turned and picked his way down the porch steps, his hair glinting dark gold in the reddish light. There was a painful tugging in her chest, something that seemed to urge her to simply stand up and hold onto him and� she could remember the feel of his lips, the bracing wind, the adrenaline, how good it felt. It was all laid out in front of her and all she needed to do was to say his name, call him back, and there would be something so new it would be like falling upward into the sky. It could be brilliant. Her skin was humming with the possibility of it.
She watched him walk down the path and onto the street. She didn't say anything.
***
Rawley Boys' Academy: Common Room
"I dunno what happened," Pagan said glumly. "It was like she was waiting and� I just choked. I couldn't say anything."
He and Michael Tan were sprawled on the carpet, playing a first-person shooter on Playstation. More accurately, Michael was playing and Pagan was just fiddling with the controls, and he'd already died three times in the last five minutes.
"Dude, I'm trying to play," Michael grumbled, throwing his controller down with a clack after Pagan's character died a fourth time and Michael's character conveniently got caught in the crossfire. "You were supposed to cover me."
"Sorry," Pagan said, setting down his controller and sitting up. "I've just got other things on my mind."
"Grace, I know," Michael said, rolling his eyes. "Believe me, I've heard all about it. Dude, I don't see what the problem is. You like her, she likes you. Get it together."
"It's not like I could just go up to her and� and�"
"Ravish her in a manly fashion?" Michael supplied helpfully.
"Well, there's always that," Pagan shot him an incredulous look. "Or I could ask her to go to a movie or dinner or something."
"See, that's the part I don't get," Michael rolled over onto his back, putting his hands behind his head. "Why is it so hard for you? If I was hanging out with someone as hot as that, I'd have made a move ages ago. Meanwhile you just sit and moan about how much you choke around her - even though it's obvious that she's into you - and you'd rather be sitting here talking about her to me than actually going to her house and getting some pretty good."
"Well, I just caught the tail end of that sentence," said Will, walking in the door and plopping himself down on the couch. "And I don't think I wanna know how the first part went."
"Girls, that's all you need to know," Michael informed him with a small smirk, turning back to Pagan. "Seriously, dude, why are you still here?"
"It's just not that easy," Pagan sighed. "I don't know what she's expecting. I want to make a move; I just� I'm just afraid it'll all turn out horribly wrong."
"So you're just stuck where you are, with no idea how to move forward." Will finished for him. "Dude, I know how that goes."
"Right," Michael pitched in, grinning. "Maria."
"You don't have to sound this shady about it," Will couldn't help a chuckle. "And, dude? You are way too gossipy for your own good. Has anyone told you that?"
"Please, like it's something to be ashamed of?" Michael shrugged. "You know why Alexander the Great's troops all loved him? Because he knew all their names and everything that was going on with everyone. There's no such thing as information overload, people."
"So you're Alexander the Great now," Pagan said, deadpan.
"Billionaire CEO of a worldwide conglomerate in ten years?" Michael said with another shrug, "Same diff."
"Well, you've certainly got the 'exceeding expectations' angle covered," Will laughed.
"Don't avoid the topic," Michael pointed at him. "You're just like Pagan old boy here - stuck in the same routine with the girl. Every one of you want to take it to the next level, yet no one seems to know what they're doing to get there."
"I don't get why it's the guy's responsibility to take it there, anyway," Pagan grumbled. "I did the whole romantic thing for her birthday, you know. Isn't it her turn to� do something?"
"It's not a game of chess," Michael said mildly.
"So what do you suggest, oh wise one?" Will asked.
"Duh, just get on with the kissing."
There was a moment of silence. "That's it?" Pagan said. "That's your master plan?"
"If in doubt, advance into enemy territory," Michael stroked an imaginary goatee. "It'll shock and knock them off guard."
"Sun Tzu?" Will asked knowingly.
"Michael Tan," Michael replied without missing a beat. "Equally valid."
"Of course it's easy to you," Pagan grumbled. "You're not the one who's actually trying to get the girl. Lip service is so much easier."
"Which is why you'll find me in management consulting in ten years, not manufacturing," Michael said matter-of-factly. "All I'm doing is offering you practical advice that will get you results. If you don't follow it� well, that's your loss."
"And your advice is 'get on with the kissing'," Pagan repeated, sounding disgusted.
"Damn straight. I'll bet it's effective too. You know she likes you; she'll appreciate a man in charge."
"No thanks," Pagan said. "I think I'll do things my own way."
"Your loss." Michael shrugged. "I hope Will has better sense."
"I dunno, dude," Will laughed. "It's a lot easier said than done."
"True, but once it's done, then it's done, and you'll never have to make the leap again." Michael stood up. "I've gotta go, gentlemen; the Actuarial Club has a meeting. But this is solid advice, and you're damn lucky I gave it to you free of charge. In ten years' time it'll cost you fifteen bucks a minute to hear the exact same advice, you know."
Pagan threw a cushion at him. "Just get outta here."
"It's the truth, man," Michael spread his hands as he sauntered out the door. "You know it."
"I swear," Pagan chuckled as he watched Michael walk out the door. "I've got to get some more normal friends."
"I dunno," Will said thoughtfully. "It's sort of transparent to the point of stupidity but I see his point. We've been friends with these girls for so long and it seems like they're just waiting for us to make a move, but we never do, and it feels like we never will. Maybe we should just take the leap."
"Well," Pagan said dubiously. "You let me know how it works out for you."
***
The Gas Station
"What's up, Josh?" asked Emily as band practice ground to a halt yet again. "You're not concentrating at all. This is like the third time you forgot the lyrics."
"I'm sorry," Josh sighed, slinging his guitar down by his hip. "Can we please take a break? It's too hot in here and I need some water."
"Sure," said Bella, putting down her guitar. "I'm on it. Anyone else want?"
"Yeah," said Emily and Alex in unison. "And any snacks if you've got 'em," added Alex hopefully.
"When I know you're coming?" Bella chuckled as she took the door adjoining the gas station. "If I didn't stock the cupboards you'd probably eat the house in desperation. Supersized bag of cheesy chips coming right up."
"Bless you, kind cheesy chip goddess," Alex mock bowed after her. Turning back to the other bandmates, he raised an eyebrow. "You okay, Joshua? You seem kinda out of it today. Been hitting the bong again?"
"No," Josh leaned back against one of the amps and chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip. "Just got a lot on my mind."
"Trouble in paradise?" Alex asked with a smirk.
Josh threw a pick at him. "You wish."
"Aw, you know what I mean." Alex deftly caught the pick and threw it back. "You know we're all rooting for you two crazy kids. Glad that you finally got it together."
"Actually, I have a complaint," Emily said, a twinkle in her eye. "Your new song is disgustingly happy. It's just not you, Josh. Very disturbing. Is this what we have to look forward to? I might have to get my angst quota from somewhere else for a change."
"You guys are just sadists who get off on watching me suffer," Josh said, rolling his eyes. "As a matter of fact, we're going to the prom together."
"Oh god," Emily sighed, rolling her eyes skyward. "You're that gay high school couple."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Josh laughed.
"The one who goes to the high school prom and does this ridiculously romantic little waltz in the middle of the floor while everybody else just stands and watches in awe or disgust while you remain oblivious to everything else�"
"I think you're watching the wrong show, Em," Alex interjected mildly. "This is Ryder we're talking about. The day he does a ridiculously romantic little gay waltz is the day the sun explodes."
"He's got a point," Josh laughed. "Your imagination is getting away from you there."
"Well, speaking of the Rawley prom, I'll tell you what's not my imagination." Emily said. "It's not on the gig calendar at all. Didn't we do this gig last year? Why aren't we doing it this year? We're doing the Edmund prom, after all."
"You know, I've been wondering the same thing," said Bella, walking back in with a tray heaped with food and drink. She tossed a giant bag of chips at Alex. "I thought we've got a virtual lockdown on every high school prom within a ten mile radius. What happened with Rawley?"
"Yeah, well," Josh shuffled on the spot, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "About that. Uh� it was pencilled in, and I was supposed to call them back and confirm, but, um, something came up and I was preoccupied and, I, uh, kinda forgot."
"Well, it's no big," said Bella, glancing at the others. "You're going and I'm going and it'll be nice to actually go to a prom where we didn't have to work for half the night. But I have to say this isn't like you."
"Preoccupied. Was it a Ryder thing?" Alex asked knowingly.
"Not everything is about Ryder," Josh said, running his hand through his hair. "Listen, guys� I've sort of been putting this off but I think it's come to a time that I really need to talk to you and just get it in the open."
"God, this sounds ominous," Emily said, taking off her bass and putting it on the stand. "What is it?"
Josh wouldn't look at them. "It's about the meeting with the A&R guy after the New York gig."
"But you told us the guy couldn�t make a call and had to get back to us on that," Alex said. "Which, you know, I thought was weird cos we totally rocked the house, but who knows what A&R guys are like and�"
"Actually, he offered to sign us on the spot," Josh said meekly.
"WHAT?" the others exclaimed in unison, swivelling toward him. "Why didn't you say something?" Emily demanded. "Wait, scratch that. Why the hell did you lie to us?"
"Because," Josh sighed. "It's complicated."
"Complicated how?"
"He kinda gave me an ultimatum. He said he was willing to sign Amnesia on the spot, but�" Josh looked down, avoiding locking eyes with Bella. "He said he would only do it if one of us wasn't in the band."
"What do you mean, 'one of us wasn't in the band'?" Emily demanded, looking confounded. "Does he want a three-piece or something? Why does he care if we're three or four people?"
"No, you don't understand," Josh said, frustrated. "He didn't just want three people. He said that there was one person who didn't really fit the image of the band, and he said all this stuff about marketing and honestly, I don't even understand what he's talking about, but that's what he said. He wanted a band member out of the mix, and�"
"And it's me," Bella finished for him, casting her eyes downward. "Isn't it."
Josh glanced at her sharply: her tone had made it perfectly clear that this was a statement, not a question, which meant that he was spared from answering. There was no point in stressing something that was already known.
Emily stared at her bandmates, stunned into submission. Alex sat with a handful of chips halfway to his mouth, his gaze darting from Josh to Bella and back to Josh again. For a moment nobody spoke.
"That's insane," Emily finally said, crossing her arms. "He can't just ask us to do that."
"But he did." Josh said woodenly. "God, Bella, he said it's not about you. It's nothing personal�"
"Feels kinda personal from where I'm standing," she replied quietly, leaning back against the wall.
"It's just this whole� image thing," he said desperately. "He thinks the alternative goth thing will really sell, and he said all this stuff about teenagers and us wearing dresses and me being bi and, god, I don't know, it all sounds so stupid when I try to repeat it."
"And he said I don't fit into that," Bella said, lifting her eyes. "I get it. And I even agree. I'm born and raised in a gas station, I've never passed out backstage and ended up in some drunken orgy, the shortest skirt I ever wore belonged to a guy, and I was fourteen before I even discovered eyeliner. I'm never as comfortable onstage as you guys are. He's right, I don't fit."
"That's not true," Emily said in a small voice.
"Look," Bella said, sounding tired. "If that's the ultimatum he gave you, then what are you waiting for? Go for it. Don't let me stand in your way."
"You don't mean that," Emily said, taking a step toward her. "We're not gonna do that, okay? We're not just going to throw you out because some suit tells us that you don't fit our image. What the hell does he know? Was he even listening to the music?"
"He said he'll sign us, didn't he?" Alex said. "It's Matador, Em. It's the fucking holy grail."
She rounded on him. "So? What are you saying?"
He raised his hands. "I'm not sayin' anything. Except that we should cover all our bases. This isn't the kind of opportunity that comes around every day."
"God, get your priorities straight!" she shouted at him. "This is Bella we're talking about, okay? She's one of us. We don't throw out one of our people just because the freaking A&R guy says�"
"That's not what I'm saying!" he exclaimed. "I'm just saying we should think about it�"
"We shouldn't need to! We'll just tell him no!"
"God, how can you be so blas� about it? This is the biggest opportunity of our lives and you're just going to turn away from it without even thinking about the alternatives�"
"Josh," Bella said quietly, ignoring Emily and Alex. "What do you think?"
"I don't know." He sounded as tired as she felt.
"I'll leave," she said. "It'll make things easier."
He glanced up at her and she fought the urge to squirm. His eyes were a crystalline green today, and he was staring at her as though he was seeing her for the first time.
"No," he said.
Emily and Alex stopped arguing and turned back to them. "What do you mean?" Alex demanded.
"I might not know anything else," Josh said quietly. "But I know we're not going to tacitly drive you out just because the rest of us are too cowardly to make a decision. You deserve better than that, Bella. You deserve for all of us to reach a decision together, one way or another."
She sighed. "Things would be so much easier if I just left."
"Yeah, but where would that leave us?" Josh asked. "I'm not prepared to be that person who leaves behind his friends for his own gain. I'm not saying it isn't a hard choice; I'm not even saying we've made the choice yet. All I'm saying is, don't ever feel like you have to leave for the greater good. This isn't time to play the martyr, Bella, and I don't want you to. The four of us are a team and we're going to sit down and figure this out as a team. It's not your problem, it's ours."
She nodded, swallowing. Behind her, Emily and Alex also nodded, though their expressions remained doubtful.
"The offer still stands," Josh said, picking up his guitar. "We've got a few days to think about it and we'll deal with it when we've all calmed down. In the meantime, let's carry on with practice."
***
Rawley Girls' Academy
"See you later," Maria Ishizuka waved to her friends as she hurried down the path around the lake. "I gotta head to class. Miss Bradford said she'll have to put me in detention if I showed up late to English again."
She dashed up the path and picked her way across the lawns, so intent on her journey that she didn't even see Will cut across right in front of her. With a startled yelp she collided into him, her books cascading around them. "Will!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
He grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her.
Her eyes flew wide open, but she didn't pull away, and after a moment her eyes fell closed as she leaned into the kiss, bringing her arms up to wrap around his neck.
He was the one to pull away first. "Come to prom with me," he said breathlessly.
"What�" she murmured, her cheeks flooding with red. "What's going on, Will?"
"Just say you'll come. As my date."
"Uh," she stuttered. "Of course. I mean, yes. But�"
"Great." Impulsively he leaned in and kissed her again. "Great. I gotta go."
"Will! What the hell?" she exclaimed after him as he turned and started to run toward the boys' dorms. "What just happened?"
"Making the leap!" he shouted back, a smile breaking over his face as he continued jogging backward. "Throwing caution to the wind! Exceeding expectations! I'll see you later."
She watched as he turned and ran, pressing a hand to her warm cheek. She could feel her heart beating out a steady quick rhythm in her chest, like drums, or else a stopwatch ticking.
Part Five
The Gas Station
Bella was upstairs, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. It was rapidly growing dark outside, and Scout was due to pick her up for the prom any minute.
She checked her reflection. Her hair was up in a smooth, sophisticated chignon - courtesy of Susan Krudski, who had dropped by earlier in the afternoon - and her dress was a classic A-line princess gown in a satiny fuchsia material, bringing out her matching lipstick and the rose in her cheeks. She looked more grown-up than she could ever remember.
"You cleaned up okay," Grace said, sauntering into the room and plonking herself down on her bed.
"Thanks for lending me the dress," Bella said. "There's only so many times I could alter mom's old wedding dress before I pretty much go to the dance in rags."
"Like a reverse Cinderella," Grace giggled. "You're welcome. It looks better on� well, me, but it's not like anyone's jumping to invite me to Balls."
"Edmund's prom is only a week away."
"It's not for sophomores." Grace shrugged. "I'll just have to face it: I lucked out the one year I managed to get myself invited to the Rawley Cotillion. What was I, fourteen? Why did dad even let me out of the house? That Cotillion was hella shady."
"You're telling me." Bella chuckled.
"Anyway," Grace leaned back against the headboard. "This dress has been sitting useless in the closet for a couple of years, you might as well use it when you can."
"Well, it's generous of you," Bella said, turning back to the mirror.
"You look great. Scout won't know what hit him."
"We're not going on a date. I'm just going with him as a favour." Bella bit her lower lip. "He was supposed to go with Faye."
"I'm surprised he's even going."
"Me too," Bella murmured. "I didn't think he would. But he asked me out of the blue, and� what was I supposed to do? Refuse? Tell him he should be sitting at home thinking about her instead?"
"So you'll go as his friend, and you guys will have a good time. There are worse nights out."
"I guess."
"You don't sound all that excited about it."
"It's just I feel so�" Bella paused. "Scout didn't need to go with me. When he invited me, it's like he hardly even saw me. I was just�"
"Convenient?" Grace supplied.
"Yeah, that word is as good as any," sighed Bella, sitting down opposite her sister. "It's not just that. I haven't told you about Amnesia."
"What about it?"
"You know the gig at KBGB's?"
"Yeah, the big deal record label guy was gonna be there. What happened, anyway? I assume you guys didn't get signed or anything cos the last time I checked you were still just playing out in the garage."
"Well, that's not exactly it," Bella said slowly. "The guy offered Amnesia a record deal."
"What? That's awesome!" Grace sat up and made to hug her sister, but Bella shrank away. Grace furrowed her brows. "Isn't it?"
"The offer was made on one condition," Bella avoided her eyes. "That I leave the band."
"What?" Grace demanded. "They can't do that!"
"The label is theirs, they can do what they like."
"But you're awesome in the band! Why don't they want you?"
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but apparently I'm not right for the image." Bella shrugged and stood up again. "I don't wanna talk about it."
"That's just wrong." Grace said. "So you guys turned it down, right?"
"Sort of� not yet." Bella sighed. "It's still up in the air."
"Great friends you've got."
"It's not their fault," Bella said. "They�ve been together as a band a long time before I joined. They've been working toward this for years and it's not fair that they have to throw all of it away just because I don't fit. But� I just don't know. I just feel so� "
"Convenient?"
"Thanks, but that isn't the word this time." Bella couldn't help a wistful smile. "I just feel� disposable. It's like it doesn't really matter if I'm here or not; things will still go on the same way and some days I feel like no one will miss me if I just� left."
"I would," Grace said quietly.
Bella turned toward Grace, the look in her eyes softening. But the doorbell downstairs rang shrilly before she could say anything. "That must be Scout," she said, lifting the dress hem from the floor and making her way to the stairs. "I'll see you later, Grace."
"See ya," Grace echoed absently.
All her life she had grown up in Bella's shadow. She used to joke that it wasn't easy having a sister who was blonde - all the attention seemed to flow straight to Bella when she was in the room. No matter what Grace did, no matter how badly she acted out, somehow it all still came down to Bella. What she did was always the right thing. What she wanted was always the correct choice. When she talked, people listened; when Grace talked it was like speaking to an empty room. She lived under that shadow for what seemed forever and she supposed no one could blame her for becoming the bad seed in the Banks family. Not when Bella wielded all the control.
She couldn't remember when it started to change. Had it been months, or even years in the making? Somewhere in the intervening time Grace started to see Bella not as Grace used to see her, but as Bella sees herself. And what she saw was far from the perfect, reigning queen of their little world. Bella wandered through life, abandoning one purpose after another, or perhaps it was the purpose that abandoned her along the way. Where Grace used to feel envy, now she only feels worry. Bella's life seems too heavy and weary to carry, and yet the very thing that lacked was substance, as though nothing existed to tether her to this particular world.
Grace thought these thoughts as she watched Bella descend the stairs. She couldn't figure out whether this was a thing that changed, or whether the situation had always been the same, and the only thing different was that Grace herself had grown up, and finally saw the world as it was.
She couldn't decide which option she preferred. The one thing she did know, however, was that she was glad to be Grace Banks, just Grace Banks, and nobody else.
***
Rawley Girls' Academy
The girls' dorms was usually banned to boys, though prom night was an exception. Since nightfall the entrance and hallways had been teeming with Rawley Boys' Academy students, looking for their dates in the mess of dormitory rooms and half-dressed girls running to and fro between their rooms and the bathroom in their mad rush to get ready.
Will navigated the crowds and managed to make it up to Maria's room without too much bloodshed. "Excuse me, excuse me," he mumbled as he squeezed past a nasty catfight over the third floor bathroom, and finally breathed a sigh of relief when he reached Maria's door. He rapped on it loudly. "Maria, are you ready? It's Will."
"Just a minute!" he heard her shout, before a series of muffled thumps came from the other side of the door and a very loud 'ow!'
"Are you okay?" he asked the door, grinning.
"Fine�" came the reply as the door was finally wrenched open. "Fine," Maria said again, stepping aside. "Come in."
"Wow," he said as he walked inside the room, unable to take his eyes off her. "Wow."
She was wearing a sky-blue Chinese-style sheath dress, which fell straight to her ankles but with an elegant slit up one side to mid-thigh. "You look amazing," he said, pointing toward her hair. "And is that a memento from yesteryear?"
She had put one blue streak in her hair to match her dress. He couldn't help chuckling as he recalled her from a year ago, all combat boots and spiky blue hair. "I like this look much better," he said.
She seemed oddly reticent, picking up her beaded evening bag from the dresser. "Are you ready to go?" she asked, not quite meeting his eyes.
"Just a minute," he said, walking closer. She closed her eyes as he brought up a hand to touch her cheek; her skin was smooth and soft, and when he kissed her, her lips were also. He let himself sink into this moment: it's been so long in the making that he didn't realise how easy it could have been.
It was she who broke the kiss first. "We're going to be late," she said softly, leading the way to the door. "We better go."
"All right," he said, obliging, though he couldn't help a quizzical look as they let themselves out of the room.
***
Susan Krudski's house
"Thank you for the delicious dinner, Susan," said Monica as she helped Kate Fleming carry plates to the sink. "I've been on the run so long that I hardly remember what a home-cooked meal tasted like. Thank you for reminding me in the best way possible."
"Oh, my cooking is nothing special," Susan said, blushing. "A life like yours - Broadway, West End, all over the world - I think about the kind of meals and company you would have had, and I was almost too afraid to bring out the pot roast."
"Nonsense," Monica chuckled. "I don't care how glamorous it seems from the outside, after a few banquets everything just ends up tasting the same. Give me your pot roast every day of the week."
"You're very kind," Susan protested, though she couldn't help a delighted smile.
"Jacqueline, honey," Monica said, looking at her daughter. "You barely touched your food. Can I bring you anything else? Some ice cream?"
"I'm fine, thanks," Jake said, folding her napkin. "Sorry Susan, I just wasn't very hungry. But it really was delicious."
Susan nodded, looking like she didn't know what to say. Kate, who had just stepped back into the room, exchanged a glance with her before she spoke.
"Hamilton's acting exactly the same way, you know," she said softly, sitting down next to Jake. "Honey, I wish you two could just work things out."
"I'll get the coffee," Susan said quietly, heading into the kitchen.
"Now I know we're not supposed to preach," Monica said, taking the seat on Jake's other side. "But we're worried about you. You've been like this for a week and we're all at a loss at how to make you feel better."
"I just can't stand seeing you here like this, and Hamilton acting exactly like you at dinner." Kate added. "You two obviously want to get back together and it just breaks my heart that you're not talking to each other about it."
"That's the thing," Jake said softly.
Monica and Kate looked at each other. "What is, sweetie?" Monica asked.
"You guys all assume we want to get back together," Jake said flatly. "What if that's not true? What if I don't, or he doesn't? You don't even think about that."
"We do," Kate insisted. "It's just� you two are obviously miserable without each other."
"Right now we're pretty miserable together, too," Jake said, not looking at her. "I don't know what I want. I don't even know what to think. Everything is� complicated."
"Is it complicated� because of Spencer?" Monica asked gently. "Because if it is, you've got to realise that's okay too. No one is forcing you and Hamilton to stay together forever. If you two have grown apart, that's fine. It hurts, but�"
"I'll grow once I acknowledge it and move on?" Jake finished for her, with a short, bitter laugh. "No offence, mom, but I don't need the 'you've been hurt but you'll grow' speech right now."
"I'm just trying to help, sweetheart."
"I know," Jake sighed. "And I wish I could tell you what's wrong, what I want. But I can't even do that. I don't know what I want. I have no idea."
"Here we are," Susan interrupted quietly, placing a tray of coffee cups down on the table.
"Thanks," Kate said gratefully, getting up to help Susan serve.
"Honey, I can't help overhearing," Susan said, passing Monica the milk. "I know you're probably sick of people doing this to you, but� can I offer you some advice?"
"Sure, why not," Jake said woodenly, taking a sip of coffee.
"'Want' is a tricky thing," Susan said, taking a seat. "It's not as simple as 'what you want' versus 'what you don't want'. Life would be so much easier if this only existed in black and white."
"You mean, she wants to be with Spencer but she doesn't want to leave Hamilton?" Kate asked.
"Excuse me," Jake said. "She is sitting right here."
"Sorry," Kate said, hiding her blush by taking a quick sip of coffee.
"It's a good question though," Susan said. "And no, I don't mean that. I mean� okay, so I was reading this book. It talks about a red rose and a white rose."
"You've lost me," Jake said flatly.
"You mean the War of the Roses?" Monica asked.
Susan shook her head. "It's just a metaphor. Work with me here. The book was talking about the life of a man, and how he would always have two roses in his life: a red rose and a white rose. He could choose between owning the white rose or the red rose, but he can't have both, so he has to make a choice."
"I guess I'm with you so far," Jake said. Kate and Monica also nodded, looking slightly apprehensive.
"The book said it better, but I can't remember how it goes, so I'm paraphrasing." Susan said slowly, looking like she was trying hard to remember. "If he chose the red rose, soon it wouldn't look the way he remembered it. It would look as dull as an old bloodstain, but if he looked back at the white rose that he didn't choose, it would always look as pristine and beautiful as snowflakes in the sky."
"That's very poetic," Kate said. "I think I see your point."
"The point is, if he went back and chose the white rose instead, soon it would look pale and lifeless. Meanwhile, he would always look back and see the red rose as being more vibrant than blood, full of passion and life."
"The grass is always greener on the other side?" Monica said.
"I guess. They make the same point about how you treat what you have and how you treat what you don't have. It's not that the other thing is better or worse, it's just� it's something different. It's beautiful because you haven't had a chance to get used to it."
"So you're saying I only like Spencer because I've gotten too used to Hamilton," said Jake, looking guarded.
"I'm not saying that, honey," Susan leaned forward. "We're not trying to say that Hamilton is better for you than Spencer. Maybe you and Hamilton have just grown apart, and Spencer is the person who understands you more, who is better for you now. You could have either of them, and I just want you to think about this: after everything's been and gone, who do you see yourself with in the long run? Who's the one who will be right for you in five years' time? Ten? Twenty? It might be one of them, it might be neither. Just� don't make your decision on what you feel right now. Are you confused because you don't know who to choose? Or do you know in your heart that one is more right for you than the other, and you just can't see it properly because one is the person you already know and one is something different, something new?"
Jake's jaw tightened. "So after all that, you're still trying to tell me that I should stay with Hamilton. You're saying that Spencer isn't anything, that he will lose his appeal as soon as he stops being a novelty."
Susan sighed. "That's not what I'm saying."
"We're just trying to help, Jacqueline," Monica said, sharing a glace with the others. "I remember my first love, believe it or not. We were starting out on Broadway together and� oh, we had some wonderful years. But I left him in the end. For a big star at the time."
"Mom, if this is a story about how you should've stayed with your poor childhood sweetheart instead of selling out�" Jake began, sounding exasperated.
"Excuse me, young lady," Monica interrupted, "do you know this story? Have I ever told it to you before?"
Jake pouted. "No."
"So be quiet and listen," Monica admonished. A moment, and she began again. "I left my childhood sweetheart and I started to date Jack, a man ten years my senior, who was at the height of his career. Everyone I knew told me that was a mistake, that I was only attracted to the glamour, the fact that someone so famous could be interested in me, that sooner or later I would realise that Chris - my childhood sweetheart - was the one for me all along�"
She trailed off, taking a sip of coffee. Jake looked around the table: Kate and Susan were both looking at Monica, with oddly similar expressions on their faces. However, their expressions were unlike Jake's: they didn't look as though they were expecting the predictable ending. Their gazes were laced with sympathy, a kind of understanding. With a sudden pang Jake realised that all three women at this table - all three mothers - have, for some reason or another, left their men behind and moved on.
"I keep hearing their voices in my head," Monica said. "Everybody said it, so it must have been true. In the end it poisoned my relationship with Jack. I couldn't bear the thought that everyone else seemed to know it was wrong, that it was just a matter of time before I woke up from it all. Suddenly everything he did wasn't so wonderful anymore, and I saw more and more faults with him until I finally couldn't stand it, and I walked away."
"Did you go back to Chris?" Susan asked.
Monica shook her head. "I went off on my own. I needed to figure out who I was without a man in my life."
Kate and Susan both nodded. Jake looked from one face to the next, and was once again surprised at how similar they looked: the brunette, the blonde and the redhead, different from each other in so many ways yet inexplicably all brought here, to this living room at this moment. And suddenly they didn't seem all that different after all. From the glamorous socialite too exalted to ever settle down, to the listless academic's wife who was widowed in spirit if nothing else, to the small-town woman who was battered but never broken. Right now they could have been exactly the same person: the singular woman, the one who could have stayed in the status quo but instead walked away from it, preferring to take on the world by herself, trying to figure out who she was without somebody by her side.
"In hindsight," Monica said quietly. "When I look back� it was time to let Chris go. And Jack� well, he was the love of my life. I'd never been happier than I was with him." She shook her head with a sad smile. "It was all a long time ago."
"So�" Jake said, confused. "You should have stayed with the new guy?"
Monica nodded. "Just letting you know that we're not trying to tell you to stay with what you know."
"Honey," Kate said. "I'm his mother. Of course I want to see you together. But more than that, I want both of you happy. If this isn't going to work, if going back to him makes you unhappy� then don't do it. We've all been through this, having to choose one way or another. Having to figure out what's right for ourselves."
"Either way you choose," Susan said meditatively. "You're probably going to have a little voice in the back of your head, whispering that maybe you made the wrong choice, that maybe it could have gone better the other way� but that's just how things are, honey. We never convince ourselves one hundred percent, all the time, that we made the correct decision. But we still have to try."
***
Rawley Academy
"Wow, this is�" Josh said, surveying the room.
"Boring as hell?" Ryder finished for him.
"I was actually gonna say 'not bad for a high school prom'."
They were standing beside the French windows, barely inside the Rawley ballroom. Outside, there was a light breeze and the stars shone down like pinpricks of light. Inside, the room was crowded with satin gowns and a sea of tuxedos. The theme for the prom was "Winter Wonderland": crystalline decorations hung from the ceilings and sparkled on tables, with an impressive ice sculpture of a three-feet-high swan adorning the centre of the room. After Amnesia's no-show, Rawley had opted for a DJ instead, who had eschewed the more popular tracks and was playing a selection of atmospheric trip-hop tracks. The lighting was also on the atmospheric side: not too dark but not bright enough to break the mood, varying shades of silver and blue playing over the people as they danced and congregated around the tables, looking as though underwater. A buffet dinner was set up in the adjoining room.
"Do you want to� mingle?" Ryder asked dubiously.
Josh turned to look at him, unable to smother a laugh. "I'd like to see you try mingling with this crowd."
"Fair point," Ryder admitted. "I feel like I need a drink."
"I wouldn't say no to that."
"In that case," Ryder said, stepping closer to Josh and slipping one arm around his waist, pressing him up close.
"Whoa," Josh laughed. "Either you're very happy to see me, or there's a hip flask in your pocket."
"Both, actually. Bourbon."
"Isn't that sweet," Josh reached into Ryder's pocket, his fingers brushing against the hip flask. He didn't step away from the close embrace.
"Your hand is in my pocket," Ryder murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from Josh's face.
"I know," Josh grinned.
"I'll have you know the hand is being a little bit naughty," Ryder smiled back.
"Well," Josh whispered, turning his head so that his lips brushed Ryder's cheek. "I don't think the hip flask is the only thing it has in mind."
"Really?" Ryder raised an eyebrow. "That's a pretty devious hand."
"You bet it is," Josh said, unable to help placing a little nibble at Ryder's ear.
"All right," Ryder placed a hand on his chest and pushed him away, just a little. "As much as I enjoy this, we're bordering on indecent here."
"Bathroom?" Josh's voice was a tickle beside his ear.
"You read my mind," Ryder mumbled, and Josh couldn't help laughing as he was forcibly dragged out of the ballroom.
***
"Do you want to grab a bite to eat?" Bella asked Scout. He had seemed preoccupied tonight, his tuxedoed form right here with her but his mind seemed impossibly far away. He was blank and distantly polite, the way she remembered from the days immediately after Faye's death. Not Scout the party boy, then, not the bright white smile and polo shirt; he seemed to have reverted to a quieter version of himself, one who was capable of conceiving Faye's death as an event of consequence, though it was hard to understand him when he was in this state, hard to know what he thought that consequence precisely entailed.
He took a moment to answer, glancing dismissively at the buffet table next door. "No," he said, proffering a hand. "Let's just dance."
"Are you sure?" She asked dubiously as he led her onto the dance floor and a sultry trip-hop number began afresh. It wasn't that she had an issue with dancing, precisely. More to do with the fact that she would be dancing with him, in this alien state of his, near enough to touch but never quite there at the same time. It didn't feel like he was real. The whole evening had never even begun to feel real: everything seemed blurred, softer at the edges, like a photograph of a thing rather than the thing itself, the photograph not yet fully developed.
His answer was to place a hand on the small of her back. With a resigned sigh she placed one hand on his shoulder and linked her fingers through his right hand. This was it, then: no explanation, just the fact.
*Tricky's 'Hell is Around the Corner (Portishead remix)' plays*
I stand firm for our soil, lick a rock on foil
Say reduce me, seduce me, dress me up in Stussy
Hell is round the corner where I shelter
Isms and schisms, we're living helter skelter
If you believe and deceive common sense says shouldn't receive
Let me take you down the corridors of my life
The light washed over them like blue water. In this moment she could have been transported to two years ago, back when things were easier - or were they harder, once upon a time? - she could no longer tell. There was that old feeling flooding back, the notion of it shimmering, incandescent, over their heads. That old longing, before Faye, before anything else. Before pain? No, there was always pain, before or after. But at least everybody was so vibrantly alive then, not caught in these states of half-being, not ready to will themselves back into full existence. Sure, there had been pain; but pain meant life, if nothing else.
She found that she had drifted closer to him, breathing in the scent of his cologne. Her grasp had tightened on his shoulder, and she wondered if it hurt. And then, later, whether he would have liked it to.
***
And when you walk, do you walk to your preference?
No need to answer till I take further evidence
I seem to need a reference to get residence
A reference to your preference to say
I'm a good neighbour, I trudge, so judge me for my labour
The bond on me ensures my good behaviour, the constant struggle ensures my insanity
Passing the ignorance ensures the struggle for my family
We're hungry beware of our appetite
Distant drums bring the news of a kill tonight
The kill which I share with my passengers
We take our fill, take our fill, take our fill
Jake excused herself from the table and retreated upstairs, turning on only a desk lamp and leaving the curtains open.
She couldn't help glancing toward her desk. The absence of the laptop still felt like a tangible thing, as though a vital organ had been gauged out of her body and nothing put in to replace it. In a way the metaphor was appropriate: it was the beating heart of every part of her life, the thing that tied it all together. Now there was only a white space on the desk and nothing else besides. She supposed she would have to get used to it.
She pulled her chair up to the window and stared out. The voices of the women echoed back to her in the silence, Susan, Kate, her mother, each with a tale to tell, anxious to impart some life lesson learned long ago. Everything was about choice, the ones made in ignorance, the ones made under fear and pressure, the ones made while staring into the black tunnel of the unknown future. She felt as though she wasn't making a decision to do with her right now, nor to do with Spencer or Hamilton. It felt like she was making a choice on the principle of a thing that she neither knew or was supposed to know. How could anyone make a choice, not knowing anything that could come from the consequence?
The lamp cast a soft sheen over the black glass, casting her reflection back at her in a mixture of black and soft gold. She could just make out the silhouette of the street outside, very faintly behind her own reflection. It was getting to be late evening, and the street was quiet.
She stared out, straining past her reflection. She didn't know what she expected to see.
***
I stand firm for our soil, lick a rock on foil
Say reduce me, seduce me, dress me up in Stussy
Confused by different memories, details of Asian remedies
Conversations, of what's become of enemies
Hamilton sat alone in his dorm room, trying to read. He wasn't concentrating on the book: the same page had been lying open in front of him for the past half hour. Shaking his head impatiently, he finally set it to one side and slid off the bed, striding toward the window.
The view below was well-lit with small lamps around the quad, the orange glow of these tiny beacons warding off the encroaching darkness. The quad was quiet, though in the distance he could hear the sound of music and see the lights coming from the ballroom. Even from the distance he could see the movement from the hall, ephemeral blue ribbons of light playing over the lawns and, further in the distance, the dark glassy surface of the lake.
Shaking his head again, he stepped to the window on the other side of the room. This window looked out toward the school gates. Beyond it, the town's lights twinkled through the darkness. Not a glittering mass as one would expect from a city full of inhabitants in every corner, but enough - enough light and heat to lend a degree of warmth to the evening.
He stared out at those lights, thinking of Jake.
***
My brain thinks bomb-like
So I listen he's a calm type
And as I grow, I grow collective
Before the move sit on the perspective
Josh leaned back against the closed bathroom stall door, his fingers scrabbling over the lock. The top of the stall was not that high, people could easily peer over. Though by the amount of noise that he and Ryder seemed incapable of stifling, he assumed that most people would know better than to look.
He couldn't help a small smirk at the thought, before he gasped out loud against Ryder's mouth, arching his back to rise up against Ryder, feeling the lithe, muscular lines of Ryder's body aligning perfectly with his own. There was something hypnotic about this, here in this bathroom stall, the two of them fumbling in this small space, braced up against the wooden doorframe, their bodies now familiar with each other's touch but not quite in this way, too much clothing in the way, Ryder's warm wet mouth tracing a path down his neck, Ryder's hands� oh god, everywhere. He could hear faint music coming from the direction of the ballroom: his head was filled with it, his skin was humming, every inch of him alive with sensation and the singular thought that he was glad to be alive, to be here in this instant.
His lips met Ryder's once more, hungrily, as though Ryder was a drug that he couldn't get enough of. Ryder kissed him back equally hungrily, pressing himself into Josh as though he couldn't survive without even more contact, every inch of skin pressed up against Josh, every breath shared.
***
Mr. Quaye lay in the crevice, and watches from the precipice
Empirical passage
Heat from the sun somedays slowly passes
Until then, you have to live with yourself
Bella found her hand slipping down Scout's shoulder, a slow, blind drift, something that felt uncontrollable. He had gone from a vacant look over her right shoulder to a shifting glance into her eyes, the blue light overhead playing up the blue of his eyes in such a way that he seemed almost alien, his pupils dilated and the irises coloured a deep dark indigo. He was both as she knew and did not know him: he was the same boy as always, and yet also somebody else - somebody older, perhaps, as though he now had a better understanding of what the world contained and was capable of containing.
She knew she had loved him once upon a time, before all this� before their youth slipped away, slowly but surely, in the course of the intervening months and years. He still looked the same: clean-shaven, pale skin and dark hair, the boyish smile� though he wasn't smiling now. Somehow that suited him better.
She stared into his eyes and he stared back. In that moment she felt that she finally knew him, in all his newfound profundity.
He broke the gaze with a start. "No," he said, and then again, louder. "No."
"What is it, Scout?" she asked as he stepped away from her, sticking his hands in his pockets as though afraid what they'll do if let loose.
"I can't do this," he muttered, backing away from her.
"What? Dancing?"
"Dancing, being here," he gestured, a sweeping arm movement that contained this room and possibly half the world besides. "God, Bella, I can't."
"Scout!" she exclaimed as he turned and strode out.
And even as she stood here on the blue-washed dance floor, feeling the others' curious eyes on her, watching the door swing shut behind him, she still felt that connection between them, as though that gaze hadn't been broken after all. It was as though finally - finally - she knew what he was feeling, the gravity of it, and the weight of it pressed down on her chest, too heavy to breathe out, too heavy to cry about.
I stand firm for our soil, lick a rock on foil
Say reduce me, seduce me, dress me up in Stussy
Hell is round the corner where I shelter
Isms and schisms, we're living helter skelter
If you believe and deceive common sense says shouldn't receive
Let me take you down the corridors of my life
Part Six
Rawley Academy
Will excused himself from Maria to make a quick trip to the bathroom. As he walked in the door, he heard the sound of quiet chuckling coming from one of the stalls. Raising his eyebrows, he walked closer.
Before he had gotten close enough to see over the top of the stall, the door flew open and Ryder and Josh stumbled out, their clothes in complete disarray, Ryder still doing up his buttons.
"Oh, god," Will said, realisation dawning as he took a step back, not sure whether to be amused or terrified. "Don't mind me, guys. It's only a public area for the whole school. You guys have a room, you know."
"Well, it's technically a public area for only half the school," Josh pointed out, not looking at all abashed at the fact that they had been caught - in a manner of speaking. "At any rate, I don't think girls come in here all that often� unless you count Jake, which I don't."
"I think we're making widdle Willykins uncomfortable," Ryder smirked. "What, William? Never seen people get it on in a bathroom stall before? How green are you, exactly?"
"This coming from a guy who'd been Resident King Homophobe on campus for two years?" Will shot back. "Transitioning a little fast, aren't you?"
Josh burst out laughing at the look on Ryder's face. "He's got a point, you know."
"Whatever," Ryder said, elbowing Will on the way out. Josh followed, tossing Will a semi-apologetic grin over his shoulder.
"Glad to know Ryder hasn't changed in some respects," Will muttered to himself as he watched them leave. "Despite all evidence to the contrary."
When he made his way back out, he found Maria standing by the French doors, nursing a glass of punch. He came up behind her and stole a small kiss on her left cheek. "Penny for your thoughts."
She turned, her eyes snapping into focus as though slipping out of a reverie. "Will," she said.
"That's my name the last time I checked. Hey, do you wanna dance?"
She stole a quick glance at him, chewing on her lower lip. "Um, can we� can we take a walk instead?"
"Sure," he said, mystified, as he followed her out onto the patio and then onto the lawn. The night was warm for this time of year, with only a light breeze sweeping across the grounds. He made a move to take off his jacket for her, but she shook her head at the gesture.
"It's okay," she said, striding a little ahead of him. "I'm not cold."
"Maria," he couldn't help asking as he followed her toward the outer edge of the lawn, where the grounds began a gentle curve down toward the lake. "Is something wrong? You're quiet."
She stopped when they were halfway down the bank, staring out across the water. From this distance he could see the dock illuminated with the semi-submerged lights that the school had installed over the summer. The row of lights cast an ethereal golden net both above and under the water, and there was the indistinct shape of someone sitting on the docks.
"Will," she said and stopped again, looking ill at ease.
"What is it?" he asked, stepping close and placing his hands over her bare arms.
She shivered and shrank away, not looking at him. Stung, he let his hands drop to his side. "What is it, Maria?" he asked. "Is this� are we� is it not what you wanted? I thought�"
"I wanted it," she said, dropping her gaze. "I wanted to be with you."
"Well, now you are," he said, stepping forward again. "Maria� have I done something wrong?"
"No," she said, briefly lifting her eyes to his. "I don't think so."
"You don't think so?"
"I don't know," she said, stepping away from him again. "God, I don't know."
"Maria," he said, following her as she started walking again, heading toward the boathouse. "I'm confused. I don't know what you're saying."
"I don't either," she admitted, finally turning to face him. "I thought this was what I wanted, Will. This is what I came back for, this is what I hung around for. All of last semester I followed you around like a lovesick puppy and you� you never even looked at me and� I had to leave, it was making me crazy�"
"I did like you last semester," he protested. "I just never got a chance to tell you before you left."
"Well, I guess our timing was off," she said, a little sadly. "But I came back. I kept thinking about you, about the opportunity I missed, and I couldn't stay away, so I came back after� after Faye's accident because I had a feeling you needed me�"
"I did need you. You helped me so much over the last few months, I couldn't have�"
"Yeah," she said, with just a touch of bitterness. "Baking cookies, visiting your mother."
"Maria, I thought you did those things because you wanted to help me."
"I did. And I didn't mind," she said, lifting her face. "God, I was just� I was just waiting for something to happen, you know? I just hoped� I just wanted you to see me�"
"I did!" he exclaimed. "I mean, I do see you. It� it just wasn't the right time, you can understand that."
"Of course. I'm the understanding one. I'm always here."
"Maria," he said, desperately. "I don't understand. You never let on that you were unhappy."
She shrugged, looking away. "Maybe I was just hoping you would figure it out for yourself."
"But I did, didn't I?" he demanded, stepping forward again. "I kissed you. I�"
"Yes," she said. "You did."
He stared at her. "And?"
"And I realised something," she said quietly. "All those months of waiting? Hanging around, hoping for a life with you in it the way I wanted? It's already happening, and I didn't need a kiss to prove it. This is who I am when I'm with you, Will. I'm the girl following you around, the one in the background, always so dutiful, always so nice and helpful and� ignored."
"You weren't ignored!" he exclaimed. "I appreciated your help!"
"I'm sure you did," she said. "But that's not the kind of relationship I was looking for. It's not what I imagined when I thought of me and you. I thought it would be different, somehow. But after you kissed me, and tonight, and� god, I can see it so clearly now, I wonder why I never could before. This is how we're always going to be. You running ahead, me following behind, trying to keep up, trying to be a good girlfriend to you, trying to make sense of everything. Well, I've had plenty of practice being the dutiful little woman back in Japan, okay? Why do you think I left in the first place? I want something more, Will. I want something else."
"Are you saying I can't give it to you? Is it my fault?"
"I don't know," she said. "Is it?"
He stared at her. "You know what, I don't want to have this conversation. You are doing my head in and I don't know how to answer these� accusations of yours."
"I'm sure I'm not the only one, Will," she said quietly. "All the other girls you dated, you're saying they didn't say something similar? There always seems to be something else out there for you, Will. You're the lonely poet, the writer out in the woods. You never had girlfriends. You had faithful wives who you could come home to and forget."
"That's not fair," he demanded, shaking with anger.
"It's how I feel," she said.
"Well, if it's how you feel, why are you still hanging around me?"
She stared at him. "I don't know."
"I'm sorry I'm such a horrible guy," he spat out, his tone acrid. "I'm sorry my personality is so terrible that you can't bear being with me."
"That wasn't what I was saying."
"It was close enough," he said. "Maria, I can't help who I am. I don't mean to neglect you and I didn't think that I did, but obviously I'm mistaken about the way you feel."
She blinked, looking down. A pause, and she said, "I'm going back to Japan."
He could feel the muscles in his jaw tightening. "Because of me?"
"It's you, it's a lot of things. I need to figure out what I want."
"But at least you figured out what you didn't want? After all this time� as soon as you got me, you finally realised that you didn't really want me?"
She didn't answer. The look in her eyes was response enough.
***
The Docks
Scout sat at the edge of the docks. He had loosened his bowtie, letting it hang half-done around his neck. The lights below the water had cast up a glittering gold halo around him, but the light didn't reach his eyes. He looked out across the dark water, and his eyes were darker still.
Bella emerged from the rippling blue light of the ballroom, slowly making her way over the damp grass. Her dress was a deep purple in the light, the colour gradually shifting to burnt orange as she moved over the bank and onto the pier, as though slowly impressing herself onto this impenetrable golden world.
He didn't look around at the sound of her footfalls on the docks. "Scout," she said, coming closer. "I wanted to check if you're okay."
"I've never gone back there," he said, still staring into the black.
"What do you mean?" she asked, easing herself down next to him.
He nodded in the distance. "There, I mean."
She followed his line of sight to a dark grove of trees halfway around the lake. With a pang she remembered that it was where Faye was buried. "Oh, Scout," she said softly. "No one can blame you for that."
He gave a small chuckle, not so much a laugh as an exhaling of breath. "Yeah?"
"You need time, Scout. We all know this."
"I'm sick of needing time," he said quietly. "I just want it all to be over. But� I can't. I�"
"You can't what, Scout?"
He swallowed and looked down. "She's always here," he whispered. "She's always with me. I can't� I can't let her go, and I can't bear it when she stays."
*M Craft's "Dragonfly" plays*
"Oh, Scout," she said and stopped, and could find nothing else to say.
A moment of silence, he said. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."
"I understand," she said, leaning back. They looked over the dark water: this evening seemed composed solely of this moment, the two of them here, the halo of light and the dark grave beyond, the sound of faint music from the Ballroom.
I can see it all tonight underneath a perfect sky
Where the universe revolves around the pupil of an eye
And infinities stretch out from infinities within
And I'm a part of everything, I'm a part of everything
***
Susan's house
"Did I say thank you?" Jake asked as she rolled out the spare futon.
"For what?" Monica asked from her seat on the bed.
"For being here. Coming to see me."
Monica looked at her, the smooth, elegant lines of her face relaxing into a smile that was caught halfway between sympathy and a vague sense of yearning. "Of course I would. You needed me."
Jake nodded, bringing out an extra pillow from the closet.
"Are you sure you don't want the bed?" Monica asked. "I feel bad imposing on you like this."
"Are you kidding? It's like a sleepover," Jake gave her a tired smile. "I've always wanted a sleepover with you. One of those bonding things. Plus, I actually like the futon."
Monica smiled. "All right."
Jake spread out the blanket and slipped underneath it, chewing her lower lip. It felt like she should say something, but everything had been said already in this day, the day that went by so slowly, dragging its heels. She knew elsewhere in this town people were dancing; somewhere out there choices are still easy, and somewhere out there things still worked out the way they were supposed to be.
Am I falling asleep? Is it all just a dream?
Well, the cars are like water and the road is like a stream
Rolling down through the city, flowing out into the sea
Going nowhere like me, going nowhere like me
***
Rawley Boys' Academy
Will stepped wearily up the stone steps to the dormitory, feeling as though his bones were made of lead. He didn't know how it had all dissipated: the joy earlier today, the sense of finally going somewhere, finally having achieved something that he'd wanted. Where did it all go?
His mind was reeling from Maria's words. Even now he didn't understand them, didn't believe them, and he knew in the back of his mind that much of this was probably because he didn't want to. What did it matter anyway? She was gone, or will be soon enough. She slipped out of his life as easily as she had slipped into it; he blinked, and she was gone. Like Anita before her, Bella before her, and Caroline before that. Somewhere along the way all these women have made a choice: to leave him, to leave behind an existence that they deemed unacceptable. The singular clear memory he had of each was the moment she walked away from him, her long hair stirring in the wind.
He swallowed and turned away: this couldn't bear thinking about. Not yet, anyway.
*Will's voiceover begins*
'When it comes to love, to life� it's often a two-way process and sometimes it's inconceivable that your life can be changed so much, not by your own doing but by the choices that other people make. It's times like this that you feel like your life isn't even yours to create: it hangs in the balance, just waiting. And what are choices made of? A gut instinct, a skewed notion that the grass might be greener on the other side. Sometimes you don't realise that you want something until it's gone; other times, it's only when you finally have it that you realise you didn't really want it in the first place. We're such fickle creatures, and there are too many choices in the world. We're so intent on making our own choices that sometimes we forget how it feels to be on the other side.'
When the morning starts to glow out in the corners of the sky
All the people come and go, and the time just passes by
Then I'm only gonna see it from the corner of my eye
When the planet spins, it sings like the wings of a dragonfly
