Better (Too Good series)

Mark sat in his car staring through the windshield. Any minute now, Cadence, dressed in graduation robe and cap, would round the corner with her brother and Fanny. All he wanted was to see her smile.

 

He knew her parents didn’t show up. They made their intentions clear three nights ago when Cadence called home to speak to her mother. After she hung up, she told Mark she didn’t care that they refused to attend, but he awoke later that night to the sounds of her soft cries. She was curled up lying close to the edge of the bed, far away from him. He reached out to touch her, then stopped. Something told him not to, that it’d be disastrous if he tried to comfort her. So he left her alone. The next morning she was bright and cheery and as fake as he’d ever seen her.

 

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Please smile. Please smile. Please smile.”

 

He thought back to the first time he saw her really smile. She grinned at him on the side of Highway 28, but it wasn’t until she sat on a metal bench in the bus parking lot on the first day of school that he saw a real smile. She giggled about the names she’d been calling him, revealing pretty teeth with one imperfection. She had a calcium deposit on her eye tooth. Yeah, he’d noticed. And he recalled feeling like a total creep for liking it so much.

 

He stopped drumming his fingers when he saw her. She was flanked by her brother and Fanny, and she was laughing. Thank God! The relief was instantaneous, the coiled tension wrapped around his heart falling away. He could breathe again.

 

Cadence opened the passenger door and climbed in.

 

“It was hot as hell out there!” she said, leaning over to kiss Mark on his cheek.

 

“I thought the graduation was held in the gym,” he replied, turning the key in the ignition.

 

“Not enough room. They changed it last minute,” she said. She pointed to her face. “Am I disgusting, or what?”

 

He looked her over, the beads of sweat that glistened on her hairline. The slight smudge of black liner under her blue eyes. Her once-straight hair was curled into frizzy waves because of the humidity. And she’d spent so much time ironing her hair, he thought with a smirk. She was the prettiest mess he’d ever seen.

 

“You’re beautiful, Cadence,” he whispered.

 

“Gross,” Oliver muttered from the backseat.

 

Mark chuckled. He’d forgotten about the passengers in the back.

 

“Well, besides the heat, not so bad?” he asked, pulling onto the street.

 

“It was lovely,” Fanny replied. “The ceremony was lovely. Cadence was lovely.”

 

Mark glimpsed Cadence. She grinned and hung her head, letting her hair fall forward to shield her face.

 

“I didn’t throw my hat up,” she said, fingering the tassel. “I wanted to keep it.”

 

Mark smiled.

 

“Like a trophy,” she went on. And then she whispered to herself, “I made it.”

 

He reached out and took her hand, placing it on the stick shift.

 

“What are you doing?” she asked.

 

“Holding your hand,” he explained, shifting to fourth gear. “While I drive.”

 

Cadence grinned and turned her head. She caught sight of Oliver rolling his eyes.

 

“And Kim and I are annoying?” he asked. “Please.”

 

Fanny laughed.

 

“Did you talk to Avery?” Mark asked Cadence.

 

Three weeks. Three weeks since Avery yelled at her that Monday morning in the hallway at school. She’d tried repeatedly ever since to talk to her, but Avery ignored her. Avoided her. Was downright cruel to her.

 

Mark felt Cadence’s arm tense. She shook her head. Oliver bristled.

 

“Avery’s a bitch,” he spat.

 

“Ollie!” Cadence cried. “Don’t say that.”

 

“Well, she is,” he went on. “It’s been three weeks. She needs to get over it.”

 

Fanny nodded but said nothing.

 

“She’s hurt, Ollie,” Cadence explained. “I ruined her life.”

 

“No, you didn’t,” Oliver argued. “She ruined her life. Why can’t people just take responsibility for the crap they do?”

 

“Because it’s easier to lay blame,” Fanny pointed out.

 

“But I am partly to blame!” Cadence said. “I messed up in the theatre.”

 

“I messed up in the theatre. It didn’t have anything to do with you,” Mark chimed in.

 

“Yeah, dude. You did,” Oliver agreed.

 

“It doesn’t matter who messed up,” Fanny interjected. “The point is that you were wrong, Cadence. Avery was wrong. Mark was wrong . . .” She glanced at Oliver. “I’m sure you were wrong, too.”

 

“Hey! This has nothing to do with me!” Oliver cried. “I was all kinds of in the right! I rescued my sister!”

 

“You got me punched in the eye,” Cadence said flatly.

 

“Yeah, and then I rescued you,” Oliver replied. “Gimme a break. Jeez.”

 

Cadence cracked a smile.

 

“You’re a good friend, honey,” Fanny said, touching Cadence’s shoulder. “Remember that when Avery comes around to apologize. Be quick to forgive. Slow to anger.”

 

Suddenly, Cadence was uncomfortable. She didn’t want to think of that awkward conversation, if it even happened at all.

 

“Can we talk about something else?” she asked.

 

“I think that’s a good idea,” Mark replied, pulling into his usual space in front of the apartment. He asked Cadence to hang back while the others went inside.