I hold my breath to see if Tommy’s going to call my bluff. The lock slides back, the handle turns. Tommy walks out of the fitting room. He’s wearing a midnight-blue tux with a traditional black bow tie. My mouth falls open.
“Forget it,” Tommy says. “This is silly.”
“You look . . . wow.”
Tommy steps toward me. “For real?” He plucks at the shawl collar and examines himself in the mirror.
I nod because I’m tongue-tied. I can’t imagine how anyone—how Tommy—could look at himself and not see how beautiful he is. I drag him to the floor-length mirrors and stand beside him. Thankfully, the salesperson has the decency to give us some space.
“You know what I see when I look at you?” I ask.
“A goof in a suit he can’t afford?”
“The most handsome man in the universe, who also happens to be the guy I love.” I lean into him. “And next year, when we go to prom and you’re wearing this tux, I’ll know everyone hates me because you’re mine.”
Tommy stares at our reflections for a while. Then he says, “Are you really set on doing this prom thing?”
“Don’t you want to go?”
“Maybe.” Tommy pulls away from me. “I thought you hated all that school shit.”
“I do, I guess, but it’s prom. We’ve been talking about going together since freshman year.”
“That’s the thing,” he says. “Haven’t you ever thought of going with anyone else?”
“Another guy?” The salesperson is watching us, and I suspect he knows I lied about the fundraiser, but I don’t care.
“Not necessarily. We could go with Lua and Jaime, and Dustin and whoever he takes. It’s just, we’re always Ozzie and Tommy. I don’t know how to be anything else.” Tommy looks at his shoes before he heads back into the fitting room.
I change into my regular clothes and we leave the shop. I’m afraid to speak, too afraid to ask him to explain what he meant earlier. Whatever is going on with him is bigger than his father. I’m not sure I want to know anymore.
“Is it so bad being Ozzie and Tommy?” I ask.
“You know I love you, right, Ozzie?”
“But?”
Tommy shakes his head and takes my hand. “No but. Just: I love you.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “I love you, too.”
3.12 MI
AFTER PROM THE LIMO DRIVER dropped us off at Lua’s house so I could get my car, and then I drove us all to Trent’s. Most everyone who’d gone to the dance, it seemed, showed up at the party. Trent’s parents were home, but they stayed in their bedroom and let us drink and dance and generally raise hell.
I hadn’t wanted to ask Lua about Trent with Dustin in the backseat, but he’d run off the moment we got to the party, so, after I made the rounds, I found Lua alone in the front yard. He’d shed his jacket and was staring at the sky, which was only partially visible through the trees, but so dark and empty without the stars that it was difficult to tell the difference.
“So,” I said. “You and Trent?”
“Shut up about it or I’ll break your nose, Ozzie.” Lua stood rigid and proud. “There’s no me and Trent. He wanted a dance, so I gave him a pity dance.”
I held up my hands. “I’m not judging. I have an imaginary boyfriend, after all.”
Lua relaxed slightly. “Is Tommy really imaginary?”
I looked around for somewhere to sit, and ended up settling for the ground, which was covered with pine needles. Trent lived out west, with dirt roads and almost as many horses as people.
“Have you ever had one of those dreams that seemed so real you had trouble realizing it wasn’t when you woke up?”
Lua sat beside me. “Yeah.”
“Tommy’s kind of like that. Only, he’s not a dream. No one remembers him, but he’s real to me. I have these memories; an entire history of him and me. Of all of us.” A smile touched my lips. “Like this one time the three of us went skinny-dipping at the beach last year, and some dickhead stole our clothes. We couldn’t go home naked, so we drove to Walmart because it was the only thing open at two in the morning. All I had in my car was one of those crinkly silver blankets in my emergency kit. Tommy wrapped it around himself like a toga, went inside, and bought us stuff to wear. You got pissed because he’d picked out a One Direction shirt for you, and you tried to refuse it, but it was too small to fit me or Tommy.”
I couldn’t help laughing at the memory, but Lua didn’t laugh or smile. “I don’t remember that.”
“I do,” I said. “Maybe that’s what matters.”
“No, this is what matters. You and me, Oz.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right.”
“But listen, if you need to find Tommy, I’ll help you.”
“Why now?” I asked.
Lua sighed. “You’re not the center of the universe, Ozzie—you’re not even the center of my universe—but Tommy is clearly the center of yours, and even though you can be such a selfish asshole sometimes—”
“Christ, Lua, tell me how you really feel.”
“I’m trying,” he said, and waited to see if I was going to interrupt him again. “Even though you can be a self-centered prick, I want you to be happy.”
My anger slipped away. “What if I never find him, Lu?”
Lua was quiet for a moment. Then he poked me in the ribs and said, “Maybe something better will find you.”
He pointed across the car-littered front lawn to a shadow walking toward us. I didn’t understand until the shadow peeled away from the darkness. Calvin had shown up after all. He approached slowly, his hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
Lua hopped up. “I think I’ll leave you boys alone.”
I wanted to stop Lua from leaving, but I didn’t. I stood and brushed the dirt and pine needles off my butt.
“You look handsome in your tux,” Calvin said. His eyes were bloodshot and bruised. “How was prom?”
I shrugged. “Lame. You didn’t miss anything except Trent and Lua dancing.”
Calvin wore his surprise openly. “Trent? And Lua?”
“Yep. Lua says nothing’s going on, but stranger things have happened.”
“Wow.” Calvin stalled a couple of feet away, and I felt more uncomfortable than when I’d caught him cutting himself in the restroom at school.
“Listen,” I said. “I’m really sorry I told my therapist. I didn’t know she’d call the cops, not that that’s a good excuse. I shouldn’t have told anyone. And while I’m being honest, I also told Lua. She didn’t tell anyone, but you deserve to know.”
Calvin bobbed his head like he was floating in water, everything below his chin submerged. “It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You’re right,” Calvin said. “It’s not. But I forgive you. I’ve been talking to my own therapist. My dad forced me to go after he found out about Reevey and the cutting, and it was either that or a forced stay at a psychiatric hospital.”
“Who is it?” I asked. “I’ve been to a lot of therapists.”
“Dr. Sayegh? Makali Sayegh.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I know her. She’s not terrible.”
Calvin shrugged. “She told me it was a good thing it all came out. That keeping the secret might have killed me.”
“I’m glad it didn’t.”