One Moment (9 page)

“No one.” I tipped my forehead against my knees and tried to hold back my tears.

“Maggie,” Tanna said, rubbing my back in slow circles. “You have to stop this.”

I choked on a sob, then let it all the way out. Sitting there between them, clutching tight to the edge of my blanket, watching the clock tick me from the-first-Tuesday-without-Joey into the-first-Wednesday-without-Joey, I needed an escape.

So I focused on the calming memories of what had been, scrolling through the years, the stages, the people we once were and had come to be.

But somehow, that made everything feel worse.

“I’m just really tired,” I said. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“Are you sure?” Tanna asked, her hand slipping away from my back.

“Yeah,” I said, the word shaking out into the darkness. “Please.”

I lay back then, closed my eyes, and did the one thing that always helped me when I was feeling alone.

I remembered my favorite night with Joey.

The most important night of all.

The night
we
became
us
.

I’d always loved the sky. The night sky, though, was the best. The purplish-blue blanket that folded itself over my little town, it promised me things. Whispered to me when I was in that hazy state of almost sleep where anything seemed possible.

Like Joey and me.

Together.

After so many years of my secret longing, it was fitting that it all started under the veiled and sparkling shelter only a night sky could offer.

“Favorite midnight snack?” Joey lay next to me in the bed of his new black truck, which was actually used, his shoulder bumping mine as we played Twenty Questions in the middle of an abandoned back field on the outskirts of town.

“Bozie’s Donuts.”

Joey’s head tipped toward me, his hair falling across his forehead. “No way.”

I smiled and bit my lower lip to keep myself from looking as excited as I felt to be so close to him. He smelled good. Like cut grass and honeysuckle. And I wanted to taste him.

“I mean,
seriously
, no way.” As Joey shook his head, his eyes remained plastered to mine. “That’s too creepy.”

“Last time I checked, there’s nothing creepy about Bozie’s Donuts.”

Joey chuckled. “Wait’ll you see this.”

He sat up and slid across the open tailgate of his truck, disappearing in the thick blackness that blanketed the night around us. I readjusted myself on the inflatable camping mattress Joey had unrolled in the truck’s bed and scooted closer to the center, listening to the sound of Joey’s footsteps as they mingled with the crooning chirp of the crickets. He got into the truck, and I heard rustling, then the soft sound of music before the slam of his driver’s side door rippled across the open field. He hopped into the truck’s bed, a white bag swinging in his hand.

“Check it out.” He held the bag in the air.

I laughed, surprised to see the Bozie’s Donuts logo. “That is a little creepy.”

“I thought we’d get hungry while we waited.” Joey opened the bag and took a deep whiff.

“You ever gonna tell me what we’re waiting for?” I raised myself on my elbows, feeling the shiver of my hair against my neck.

“It’s a surprise.” Joey held the bag toward me. “You like devil’s food?”

“Are you kidding?” I sat up and reached into the bag, feeling my way around some frosted donuts and a twisted pretzel donut before finally finding the perfect specimen. “They’re only the best.”

“Creepy.”

I laughed, wishing he would sit right next to me again. That he would lie down, turn to me, and flip this thing between us into full speed.

After taking a few bites of the sweet donut, I looked at Joey. He tipped his head back, staring up at the sky as he wiped crumbs off his hands and swallowed his last bite.

“You have to give me a hint.” I decided to lie down again, hoping the action would lure him closer. “Is everyone meeting us out here? Is that what we’re waiting on?”

“Nope.” Joey slid toward me. “Tonight’s just for you and me.”

I smiled. Then pinched my lips together. Tight. It had been awkward, this thing between us. Whatever
it
was. Joey and I had hung out alone a zillion times. I mean, we’d grown up together, the six of us, and we’d all spent time in small groups or pairs while the others were busy. But when Joey had stopped me after school exactly one week earlier and said he had a surprise planned, that he wanted me to be his first passenger after passing his driving test, he was nervous. And
nothing
made Joey nervous. I knew from the way his voice wavered, how his eyes looked everywhere but right into mine. And that had gotten me excited. I’d never told anyone about my long-standing, secret crush on Joey. Ever. Because I knew what feelings like mine could do to a friendship. And I couldn’t lose him.

“Joey, look!” I flung my hand into the air, pointing at a brilliant trail of light streaking across the sky.

“There we go,” he said, lying down and scooting his body right up against mine.

“Should we make a wish?” I stared at the fading light. “Shooting star, and all?”

Joey’s hand reached out, his fingers twining into mine. “We’re going to have plenty of wishes to make tonight.”

As soon as he spoke, another star flashed across the sky. “Did you see that?”

“It’s a meteor shower,” Joey said. “And the show is just starting.”

“No way!” I wiggled a little with my excitement, causing the truck to sway beneath us. “I’ve never seen a meteor shower. I’ve always wanted to.”

“Same here,” Joey said. “I thought it would be the perfect way to show you … well, how I’m feeling.”

I turned toward him, but not all the way. You never want to go all the way. “How you’re feeling?”

Joey rolled his eyes. “You really gonna make me work for it?”

“I just want to hear you say it.”

“I’m having feelings. Different than normal.” Joey traced his thumb along my lower lip. “For you.”

“Good feelings?” I licked my lips, tasting the sugary coating left over from my donut. The song on the stereo changed, and I recognized the beginning beats of the Dave Matthews Band’s “You and Me.”

Joey leaned forward, his breath a sweet, delicious heat that had me spinning under another leaping star.

“Definitely.” His voice was a whisper, but it washed through me.

And then he kissed me.

It was insistent from the beginning. That kiss, there was nothing soft about it. Like he’d been waiting his whole life to finally make it happen. And it swept me away, carried me further than anything ever had. I rode the wave as long as I could, feeling his fingers twisting through my hair, the way his body pressed against mine, how his eyelashes brushed against the upper part of my cheek. I’m not sure how long it lasted, our first kiss. All I know is that it was long enough to flip the earth inside out. To turn everything around forever. I no longer cared about the beauty of the plunging stars. All I wanted was to kiss him again. And again. And again.

Joey stopped before I was even close to ready. All kinds of things raced through my mind—
Did the kiss not measure up? Did his feelings vanish as quickly as they had appeared?
—until he smiled, his fingers stroking my chin, trailing slowly down my neck, lighting my entire body on fire.

“That was nice,” he said.

I nodded, unable to find my voice.

“I want to gulp you down.”

I loved the smoky sound of his voice as he whispered to me.

“But I have to take sips. Or else this thing could be dangerous.”

I took a deep breath. And I finally understood. He felt the same way I did. And everything was going to be fine. Slow. But good. I could handle that.

After bumping his nose against mine and giving me one last small kiss, he looked up. I tipped my forehead against his and stared at the dancing sky.

I wanted the night to last forever. It killed me, knowing that each moment ticked me closer to the time we would have to part from the magic of the field. I looked at Joey, traced the dip of his nose with my eyes. And I got an idea.

“You have to be quiet,” I said as I pulled my phone from my pocket.

“Why?” Joey looked at me with curious eyes.

I had already punched in the number and was listening to the third ring. “Shh.”

“Honey, what is it? Are you okay?” My mom’s voice was heavy, and I knew that I’d woken her. I wondered if she was in bed or still on the couch with the quilt draped over her legs while late night television flickered light across the living room.

“I’m fine, Mom,” I said with a yawn. “Just tired. Is it okay if I sleep over at Tanna’s tonight?”

My mom caught my yawn. “That’s fine,” she said. “Just call me in the morning.”

“Okay.” I grinned at Joey. “’Night.”

When I closed my phone and slid it back into my pocket, Joey turned to his side, propping himself on an elbow. “You,” he said, “are trouble.”

I laughed, the sound of my voice skipping across the empty field. “You gonna call home, too?” My heart was beating fast, in time with the rapid melody of the crickets that surrounded us. I wasn’t sure what Joey would think about what I’d just done. I knew that call had been the final step, crossing a line that meant our friendship was now something much more complicated. And I was excited to see what lay ahead. “Or do I have to spend a night in this field
alone
?”

Joey leaned forward, his lips brushing mine, lingering, his breath an intoxicating sugary mist. “You think I’d miss out on this opportunity?” Joey asked, shaking his head. “Not. On. Your. Life.”

7

Crashing Onto Me

I held my breath because of the smell. It was stale, and musty, and wrong.

My feet stepped slowly, skidding every so often on the thick carpet, a deep maroon pool that sucked me under with its circular pattern, pulling me forward to the last place I ever wanted to be. The last place I ever thought I would be.

“There she is,” someone just ahead of me whispered.

I did not look up.

“Do you think it’s true?” another voice asked.

Shannon’s grasp on my hand tightened. “Ignore them.”

“You got this,” Tanna said. I wasn’t sure if she was speaking to herself or to me.

The dark box was just ahead, its shiny surface glinting, even in the dim lighting of the room. One glance and I squeezed my eyes so tight I saw starbursts. I wished I could squeeze so hard I’d pass out and miss this entire thing.

The faint sound of “You and Me” by the Dave Matthews Band caught in my ears. At first, I thought I had imagined it. But then I remembered the CDs Pete, Tanna, Shannon, and I had made. I could hardly recall sitting on my front lawn as we made the playlists on Pete’s iPod, or going inside to burn the songs to disks. What I remembered most was all of us wondering why Adam had refused to join, worrying about why he was pulling away, and hoping that we would get him back.

When I opened my eyes, I saw it again. The long box. But I saw something else, too. Joey’s profile peeking just above the side. It looked like he was sleeping.

Those long-ago memories rushed me again. Joey in health class. Joey lying under the shooting stars. Joey—just sleeping.

But then my eyes skittered around the room, and all illusion vanished.

The terrible sadness that had overtaken me, the truth of Joey’s death, shadowed everyone in darkness. I looked at the crowd of varsity cheerleaders, sports lovers, drama clubbers, and overall party freaks hovering around the pocket of easels on the right side of the church, their backs facing the hundreds of pictures we’d taped to the poster boards. It felt as if each person in the room was staring directly at me. Then my eyes jumped left, found Joey’s baseball team clamoring around a seating area, all in white Oxford shirts and black ties, their faces so melted by sadness I could hardly recognize them as they waited for me to break open.

I bobbed through the center aisle of the church, Tanna and Shannon at my sides, focusing on one thing: Joey’s mother’s shoes. They were tan, flat, and ugly.
Joey would be so embarrassed,
I thought, then scolded myself. The poor woman had just lost her son. It was a wonder she had found the sanity to put on any shoes at all.

Five steps later, I was in front of her, standing on two shaky legs. I put my hand on her shoulder and kissed her soppy cheek, trying to keep my eyes from darting to the body lying next to her husband. As I moved away from Mrs. Walther, Joey’s father reached out and folded me against him. He whispered something across the top of my head, but all I caught was the vibration coming from his chest. I wanted to stop time, to stay there in his arms forever, because his shirt smelled like Joey. And he was the last stop before my final good-bye.

Mr. Walther pulled away from me, holding me at arm’s length as his eyes wandered the planes of my face. “Doesn’t he look peaceful?” Mr. Walther asked, tilting his head.

And I turned.

Faced him for the last time.

My Joey.