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Alex actually laughs, but she waves Sara off. “I’m not trying on dresses.”
“Why not?”
“She claims she’s not going to prom,” I say.
Sara stops admiring herself and turns to glare at Alex. “Don’t even tell me it’s because of Jack Effing Fisher.”
“Not entirely,” Alex says. “I just don’t want to go.”
Sara crosses her arms, and I’m very glad I’m still half-hidden behind a pile of dresses in my arms. “Because of Jack Effing Fisher.”
“I—”
“Listen.” Sara comes down the three steps from the elevated mirror to stand in front of Alex, skirt swishing as she walks. “Last year when Alice told me I was just her experiment before she left for college, I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Like, totally and actually die. But did I do that?”
Alex looks her up and down slowly. “Apparently not.”
“I didn’t want to go to school because she’d be there. I didn’t want to go to practice because she’d be there. I didn’t want to be a camp counselor, because she’d be there, too. So I had a choice: I could either not do anything for the rest of my life, or I could suck it up and act like it didn’t bother me. And you know what? If you pretend long enough that it doesn’t bother you, pretty soon it actually doesn’t.”
“She’s right,” I say, craning my neck over the pile of silk and satin in my arms. “Remember how I was about Adam?”
“Yeah,” Sara agrees, hands on her hips. “Pathetic.”
“Thanks a lot,” I shoot back.
Sara reaches over blindly and pulls a dress out of my arms, the flamingo-pink one with slashes in the torso. “So you’re going to put on a dress, Alex Craft, and on Monday you’re going to buy a prom ticket.”
“I don’t think that’s my color,” Alex says.
“Then pick your own damn dress,” Sara says, and punches her in the arm.
Alex punches her back, and I bet anything they’re both going to have bruises, but it doesn’t matter because Alex is going through the racks, sliding hangers aside to give each dress a once-over before moving on.
“Thanks,” I say to Sara.
“For what?”
“I’ve been racking my brains trying to think of a way to talk her into going to prom. I never considered just yelling and punching her till she caved.”
“Well, if nothing else works, we’ll just leave a trail of cheeseburgers up to the country club,” Sara says.
“I heard that,” Alex’s voice soars out from the racks.
“Don’t tell me it wouldn’t work,” Sara calls back.
Alex emerges with a few choices and we riffle through them, Sara sending her into the dressing room with firm instructions to make sure we see all of them, no cheating. I lean back in my chair while Sara tells me about the girl she’s bringing from Waterloo, and I’m not thinking about Adam or Park or anything.
And it’s really, really nice.
52. JACK
Shit. Shower. Shave. This is how a guy gets ready for prom.
Branley has been getting ready for two days. Yesterday was phase one, which involved a very long salon appointment that she informed me consisted mostly of waxing, and made a big deal out of telling me they had to order more wax ahead of time because she was very thorough. Today is phase two. Phase two is pedicure, manicure, hair, and makeup. She fills me in on the brand of makeup that, again, the salon had to order because the one place in town that will do facials doesn’t carry the high-end stuff. And I couldn’t give less of a fuck, but senior prom is going to be her crowning achievement, and there’s a part I’m supposed to play.
I know I’ll end up in bed with her. Tonight I’m going to get drunk, probably be an asshole to a few people, and then I’m going to screw Branley because she wants me to. And if I’m being honest, the bottom half of me is into it, even if the top—where my brain and my heart are—knows that it’s all wrong and I shouldn’t go to the lodge that a whole bunch of us went in on together for after prom.
I shouldn’t go because if I do I’m the same Jack Fisher who started senior year, the guy who was led around by his dick and drank too much. The guy who hadn’t ever been in love or had his heart broken. A guy who never knew Alex Craft. But that guy was also happier in a lot of ways. He didn’t know things that I know.
