While most of the seniors we knew had planned expensive dinners at fancy restaurants on their parents’ dime, we opted for a pizza joint near Cloud Lake High, and I was willing to bet we had more fun than any of them. We spent dinner telling stories about old times. About who we were and who we hoped to become. About the time Dustin had tripped and fallen onstage while accepting an award for perfect attendance. About the time in tenth grade Lua had played Robin Hood in Cloud Lake High’s production of Robin Hood, and had slipped on an ill-placed plant during a fight scene and given himself a concussion, but had still managed to finish the show. Even though his memory of that night remained hazy, I remembered every detail for him.
I wondered if these last four years really had been the best of my life. It wasn’t fair Tommy wasn’t with us, able to share his own stories, or that I’d only gotten to know Calvin over these last few months. None of it seemed fair, and I couldn’t guess what life would throw at me after graduation. The universe was shrinking so quickly, I didn’t know if we’d make it through the end of the year, and I was equally terrified and relieved. Terrified for obvious reasons, but relieved because if the universe collapsed completely I would never have to know whether the choices I’d made had been the wrong ones.
I pushed my plate away and said, “I want you all to know that I’m really glad we’re friends. I wouldn’t have survived high school without you.”
Lua stuck his finger in his mouth and mimed puking.
“When’d you get all sentimental, Pinks?” Dustin said.
“I didn’t. I just love you guys, all right? Is that okay?”
Dustin shrugged. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere.”
“Lua is,” I said. “Tour starts at the end of the summer.”
Lua frowned. “I wouldn’t really call it a tour. Sure, the band’s booked at just about every club and bar in Cloud Lake, but that’s not saying much.”
I knew if I checked my phone, I’d see that the world had shrunk to the size of Cloud Lake, but I left my phone in my pocket, because knowing wouldn’t make any difference. I couldn’t change it. I’d spent months trying to figure out the whys and hows of the universe shrinking, and had absolutely nothing to show for it. Maybe it’d never been in my power to find Tommy and stop the universe from collapsing. Maybe all I could do was enjoy the time I had left.
“Too bad Calvin isn’t here,” Dustin said.
Lua kicked him under the table. “Topics of conversation explicitly excluded tonight are: Calvin Frye, Trent Williams, Jaime Trevino, and graduation. Tonight is all about the dancing. Right?”
“It’s cool,” I said. “I wish Calvin were here too, but I’m not going to spend the night crying into my cummerbund.”
Dustin, who’d managed to put away an entire pizza on his own, stifled a burp behind his napkin. “The cops finally charged Coach Reevey.”
“About time,” Lua said. “I hope they lock him up and some prison dude makes Reevey his bitch.” When I glared at Lua, he said, “What?”
“Prison rape: not funny.”
Dustin wasn’t usually the sort to gossip, but I think he jumped in to keep me and Lua from brawling. “I heard police raided his house and found pictures on his computer of some of the boys. I heard they also found pills. Lots of them. Valium, Rohypnol, MDMA.”
Lua lowered his eyes. “Trent told me.”
“I thought we weren’t talking about Trent tonight,” I said.
“We’re not,” Lua said. “But he did tell me a little of what Reevey did to him, and if you knew what he’d told me, prison rape is the nicest thing you’d wish on that asshole.”
Calvin may not have divulged the specifics, but I’d seen their effect on him. Reevey had stolen his life. I doubted Calvin would look back on high school as the best years of his life. I still believed the things that had happened to me since Tommy had vanished weren’t coincidences, but now that thought made me sick to my stomach. No message could’ve been important enough to kill a plane full of people. Nothing in the whole universe was so crucial for me to know that it necessitated ruining Calvin’s life. In the end Calvin was probably right to hate me, even if he didn’t know the real reasons he should.
“Now that we’re all depressed,” I said, “who’s ready to dance?”
? ? ?
The prom committee had spent the first half of the year locked in a contentious debate about whether to hold the dance at the school and spring for a band or to hold it at a fancy hotel and hire a cheap DJ. When they’d decided to go with a live band, few believed any decorations could transform the dank building into something other than a gym. I’d counted myself among the nonbelievers, and it was nice to be proven wrong.
“A Night to Remember” was still stupid, but after I’d been patted down by Mr. Purdue—an ancient math teacher whose eyesight was so bad, he called everyone “son” regardless of gender—because I’d set off the metal detector, passed my breathalyzer test, and walked into the gym, I couldn’t believe it was the same place I’d been forced to play basketball and dodgeball and volleyball in. They’d even managed to mostly eliminate the scent of accumulated sweat and humiliation.
Violet and silver balloons crowded the ceiling, and gauzy fabric decorated with lilies hung from the walls. The lights were dim and atmospheric, and the committee had set up tables draped with violet tablecloths. The centerpieces were plastic bouquets that held various pictures of our class taken throughout the year. A stage had been erected where one of the basketball hoops once stood—though I had no idea how they’d managed to remove it—and the band played a cover of an eighties song I only recognized because Lua had forced me to listen to it on repeat over the summer between eighth and ninth grade, when she’d gone through her emo eighties phase.
“D’Arcy’s still a narcissistic sociopath,” Lua said. “But she throws a mean prom.”
I couldn’t disagree with either statement. But what amazed me more than the gym’s conversion was that D’Arcy and her friends cared so much about prom that they’d expended the effort required to transform it so completely. If I’d been in charge of decorations, I might have hung a couple of banners, hooked up Lua’s phone to a speaker, and called it a night. Which was probably why no one had asked me to help.
The moment we got inside the gym, Priya found us and dragged Dustin toward the dance floor. We’d arrived respectfully late, partly because Dinah had held us up with pictures, but also because we hadn’t wanted to be the first to arrive.
“Sit?” I said. Lua nodded. I took one step toward an empty table before Lua took a detour to where Jaime and Birdie were hanging out with a couple of their friends. Lua didn’t even ask if we could sit with them before plopping down in a chair.
“What’s up?” I said to Jaime, and he held out his fist for me to bump.
“Band’s kind of lame.” Jaime’s voice trembled slightly, and Birdie scooted her chair closer to his.
“They’re not bad,” Lua grudgingly admitted.
“You should go up there,” Jaime said. “Show ’em how it’s done.”
Lua nodded, but his hand operation wasn’t for two more days, and even then it would take a few weeks of physical therapy before he could play. He glanced at Birdie, who was wearing a low-cut, skin-tight black dress, her hair piled atop of her head in crispy curls. “You look really beautiful, Birdie.”
Birdie pursed her lips. “What’re you playing at?”