That’s the end of it.
For Nick maybe. But he didn’t see the man in the truck. He didn’t keep that from the police. He’s not the one who biked away, leaving Sam all by himself.
A breeze starts up, and leaves blow across the parking lot, making a papery scraping sound along the concrete.
“You’re gonna stay till we finish the float aren’t you?” Nick says.
“Yeah, I’ll stay.” I’m sure Nick wants to be here so he can flirt with Sarah. He hasn’t done any actual work all night.
From the direction of the gym, I hear a few people laughing, everyone excited and delirious from the long week. For a brief moment I try to picture Sam with us. In a flash, I think of a different world where Sam never went away, where nothing happened to him, and he’s with us now, he’s in there, helping build the falcon. He’s laughing, maybe even flirting with the girl who’s his homecoming date. Yeah, I can almost see him. But I don’t see myself. Where would I be?
“Let’s go,” Nick says.
As we walk toward the gym, the image of Sam fades away. When we enter the chaos inside, I head back to the float and grab some tissue paper and carry on.
===
The next night, Mom drives me to pick up Madison for the homecoming game. She only lives a few streets over. Sometimes I see her run by our house on one of her jogs. She always looks up at my window.
“You look so handsome,” Mom says.
I hate when she does that—tells me I’m handsome or smart or special, like she thinks I need a boost of confidence. I’m dressed up in a blazer and a tie. I hold a corsage for Madison in a plastic case on my lap.
I want this night to be over with. Two weeks ago it seemed like the biggest event in my life. Now, I just think it’s dumb.
Madison’s parents answer the door and greet me, and then Madison steps outside and hugs me. She’s in a sleeveless baby blue dress, and she has a pink shawl. Her parents come out, too, waving to Mom in the car. She gets out to join the festivities.
I hand the corsage to Madison.
“How sweet,” she says, hugging me again. Thank God Mrs. Jones takes the corsage and helps me pin it on.
Mom and Mr. and Mrs. Jones all smile and make small talk while Madison forces us to pose for a few selfies. “Don’t we look cute?” she says, showing me one, and I’m so glad she didn’t throw the word couple in there. And no, we don’t look cute. Or I don’t. I actually look kind of tired. I haven’t really been sleeping all that well, to be honest.
Mom drives us to the stadium, both of us sitting in the backseat, like we’re being chauffeured. Madison talks and talks and I sit there and try and pay attention, but for some reason I feel—well, anxious.
“Josh?” Mom says from the front seat.
“Huh?”
“Madison asked you a question.”
“Oh, sorry.”
She smiles at me, though I can tell she feels sort of deflated. Most guys would be hanging on every word she said. “I asked if you thought we’d win the game? The Bobcats are undefeated. Aren’t we supposed to play bad teams at homecoming? It’s so annoying.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m sure we’ll win.” I smile at her, trying to make an effort.
Traffic is heavy near the stadium, but Mom insists on getting us as close as possible. I get out and walk around the car and open the door for Madison, like a gentleman. Mom unrolls her window. “You guys have fun. I’ll pick you up at eleven thirty.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Keller!”
Up ahead, I see Nick and Sarah. They’re holding hands, so as we walk toward them I grab Madison’s, even if my heart’s not in it.
We all bunch up at the side of the entrance, the crowds swirling around us. A few more guys show up with their dates—Max and Hilary, Raj and Madison Hinkle, Ty and Aisha—and then we all go in together, heading toward the stands. The bright green of the football field seems to shine under the heavy lights. The band members are all gathered in the end zone for now, before they take their spot in the stands. Blaring horns and trumpets and drums, loud and sort of obnoxious, trying to get the crowd jazzed up. But the crowd doesn’t seem to need the band to get excited—there’s already a charge in the air. I try to let the energy boost me. But I still feel weird. Not myself.
I follow along, Madison clutching my sweaty hand. We have to sit in the upper rows, the unofficial designated spot for freshmen, and when we start to climb the stands to our seats, I look to my right. In the very first row I see them—Mr. and Mrs. Manderson, and in between the two of them, Sam.
I almost don’t recognize him. He could be any of my classmates. He should be my classmate. He’s just sitting there, wearing jeans and a red jacket that seems too small on him, hands at his side, watching the cheerleaders, or staring at something on the field. What is he doing here?
Madison keeps walking and my hand slips from hers. She looks back and I say, “Hold on.” Then I step toward Mr. Manderson, sitting at the aisle seat. “Hello,” I say.
It’s Mrs. Manderson who recognizes me. “Oh, Josh. Hello!” She stands and moves in to hug me. “Look at you, all grown up and handsome.” She sounds so happy and excited and it’s weird because I remember she always seemed grumpy. “Say hi to Sam,” she says, stepping aside and motioning to him.
“Hi,” I say. My heart pounds. It’s like the noisy crowd around me has gone silent and they’re all watching this reunion unfold.
“Hey, Josh,” Sam says after what seems like minutes but was really just a second or two. He smiles at me in a weird way—like he’s truly happy to see me. Fuck you—the last two words I spoke to him. I feel shy all of a sudden and have to look away. But I force myself to look back and he’s still smiling at me, almost eagerly now. “It’s good to see you,” I say, knowing that sounds stupid.
He nods quickly, nervously. “You too.”
Right then there is a burst of applause as the football players storm the field, crashing through one of those paper banners that the cheerleaders have decorated. We all look to the field and start clapping and cheering, grateful for the interruption.
I can sense Madison waiting impatiently a few steps up. Above all the yells, I say, “Well, I better go find my seat.”
“Okay, sweetie. Enjoy the game,” Mrs. Manderson says.
I look at Sam. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t.
Madison grabs my hand and practically yanks me up the stairs, where we squeeze our way down an upper row, to sit by Nick and Sarah. Max and Hilary are farther down, and Raj and Madison H. and Ty and Aisha are one row up, right behind us. It’s packed and everyone’s standing and hollering.
Nick says, “What are they doing here?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did you say to him?” Nick says. I see him gaze toward where Sam sits.
“Just hi.”
“Remember what a jerk he was to you in school?” Nick says.