Ripple (20 page)

The only jewelry I’m wearing is the blue and teal bracelet, which strangely, seems more green when matched with the dress, and a simple pear of pearl earrings my grandmother loaned me. She was so excited about me going to homecoming, I think she wanted to give me every piece of jewelry she owned.

“Do I look okay?”

I grin. “You look hot as hell, and you know it. Patrick won’t know what hit him.”

She smiles back at me. “You look perfect.”

“Thanks.” I look down at my dress, smoothing out wrinkles that aren’t there. Tonight is about reclaiming what I lost, and I hope I can pull it off.

I slip on a pair of white strappy heels, unconcerned with their height. Erik is so much taller than me, it doesn’t matter how many inches they are. Sienna and I make our way to the front door, our high heels clicking on the hardwood floors.

“We have to pick up Nikki on the way,” Sienna says.

I nod, try not to wonder who she’s going to homecoming with.

When we step into the cool October air, Erik and Patrick are climbing out of the limo. Erik looks like something on the posters outside the Tux Shop. His shoulders, chest, and arms perfectly fill out a jacket that would look loose and bulky on anyone else. Down to the shiny black shoes, he looks every inch the gentleman.

I find myself beaming as I walk up to him. He fits right into my fantasies. In his hands is a clear plastic box, and inside is a white iris surrounded by baby’s breath. He’s beaming, and any trace of butterflies disappears as I smile back.

It might be supernatural, this connection we have, but it’s still real. He knows me in a way no one else ever has.

He pops the box open and retrieves the corsage. He secures it on my wrist, his fingers skimming along my skin. A different kind of butterflies spring forth. “You look stunning,” he says.

“Thanks.”

He leans down, tipping my chin back with his finger, and places a quick kiss on my lips. My jawline tingles where his fingers touched me. I’m smiling again. This can’t be real. It’s a fairy tale, something I thought I’d never have. But just like all the other fantasies—regular dates, visits to the lighthouse—it’s real, something Erik has given me.

We climb into the limo, and I slide over to let Erik sit next to me. He puts a hand on my knee, and I can feel the heat of it through the satin skirt.

“Thanks for coming,” I say.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He gives my knee a little squeeze.

Nikki’s house isn’t far from Sienna’s; it’s just down on River Walk Loop, a slightly less expensive version of Sienna’s street.

I’m spacing out a little bit—marveling at the way my life has changed in just a month—when the limo pulls to a stop. I look out at the couple standing just beyond the expansive tinted windows—I can see them, but they can’t see me—and what I see makes my blood run cold.

Nikki’s date.

It’s Cole. No. She can’t do that to me.

He
wouldn’t do that to me.

But he did. He’s standing right there with her.

Erik’s grip on my knee tightens just a little. He’s steady as a rock, next to me, as if he knows my insides are swirling painfully.

It’s stifling in the limo as Cole swings the door open, and the two of them climb in, Cole’s lanky frame bent over in the confines of the vehicle. He slides in next to Sienna, across from Erik and me. I avoid his eyes, but he keeps staring, as if he wants me to meet his look. As if he wants to see the hurt he’s caused.

This is his revenge. I rubbed Erik in his face, and now he has Nikki to get me right back.

Nikki ignores me, putting her hand on Cole’s thigh. “Thanks so much for my corsage. It’s beautiful.”

It’s also a white iris, same as mine. My matching corsage burns on my wrist. There are only a few florists in town, but somehow I feel pathetic, wearing the same corsage as her. I want to yank it off my wrist and fling it across the limo.

Instead I sit quietly, my fingernails digging into my palm. Nikki seems to have finally picked up on the same unfortunate coincidence, because she’s staring at her corsage, her eyes flickering over to me. I shift in the seat, glad that the high school is so close. I don’t think I can handle being in this enclosed space for much longer. It’s far too hot in here.

The second we arrive in the school lot, I nearly fall out of the car in a desperate attempt to get away from Cole and Nikki. Erik swoops in just in time to grab my arm and right me before I land on my knees.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs under his breath, close to my ear. His eyes dart back to Cole as if to tell me what he’s
really
asking. I nod and let him maneuver his arm so he’s escorting me instead of holding me up. It’s a little cool for a short, flimsy gown like this, but it feels good after the claustrophobic heat of the limo.

We make our way across the concrete and through the glass double doors, our stiff formal shoes filling the air. Although I don’t know for sure, I imagine Cole and Nikki boring holes into the back of my head with their eyes. They must have bonded over their equal hatred of me.

When we enter the already crowded school gym, I nod at Sienna even as I flee for safety within the crowd. My movements are erratic, but Erik never lets go of my arm.

He knows why I’m freaking out, and I feel terrible, putting him in this position. He knows he was the consolation prize, and I must be hurting him right now with my reaction. I try to get a hold of myself, but I just can’t quite do it.

Even though
I
dumped
Cole,
somehow I never thought I’d have to see him with someone else. Sure, he was at the carnival, but I’d convinced myself they were there as friends. Somehow, I pictured him pining over me forever, as stupid as that sounds.

I wonder if he’ll pick up his old girl-a-week habit because of me. If he’ll go back to using girls the way he did before Steven died.

No, that’s giving me too much credit, and him not enough.

When we reach the center of the throng, Erik spins me around, stopping me mid-yank. He pulls my arms up to rest on his shoulders as he tugs me close, his hands on my lower back. I let him get as close as he wants. I close my eyes and lean my face against Erik’s wide chest. He smells like the ocean, fresh and a little briny. He must have left the windows open again in his house to smell so strongly like the sea.

I begin to unwind, as Erik and I sway to the music. Our motions are much slower than those of the couples around us. An electric, calming current seems to run between us.

“I know who he is to you,” Erik finally murmurs.

“He’s no one,” I say, my voice barely audible above the music. It cracks. He knows the truth, so there’s no use hiding it.

Erik softly squeezes. “I’m sorry it has to be like this.”

“Me too.”

We sway for a few moments in silence. “I fell in love once,” he says.

I pull just far enough back to look up at Erik. His blue eyes have darkened like a storm, and he’s looking at nothing in particular, lost in a memory.

“Her name was Kate. She was beautiful.”

“What happened?”

Erik blinks and looks down at me, frowning. It doesn’t look quite right on him—I’ve grown used to that smile of his. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

He shakes his head, then pulls me closer again, until his chin rests on the top of my head. “How could it? I knew I’d only have to leave her, hurt her. I had to find
you.
”

I swallow. “Oh.”

“I’m almost certain she felt the same way for me, but I’ll never know because I never let myself talk to her. It would have only taken one conversation, I’m sure of it, before I wouldn’t have been able to leave her side.”

“So you just watched her from afar? You don’t think she was worth . . . trying?”

I feel him shake his head, give me a squeeze. “It gets easier, making the right choices. It just takes a little time. This will be worth it, I promise.”

He pulls back enough that I can look up, see the sincere, adoring look in his eyes.

I thought I was over Cole. Everything with Erik has been going so well. I shouldn’t be freaking out like this ... Erik isn’t such a bad consolation prize, is he? I could fall for him, if I’d just stop thinking of Cole long enough to do it.

He pulls me close as one song melts into the next. I rest my cheek against the lapel of his tuxedo. His arms tighten around my waist, and we turn a little bit, giving me a clear view of the one person I wanted to avoid: Cole.

I feel a painful stab to the chest as I watch him dance with Nikki. His back is to me, but I’d recognize his hair anywhere. They aren’t dancing as closely as Erik and I are, but Nikki’s arms are draped loosely over his shoulders. As they turn, I take in the way his hands rest on her hips. A weird, possessive fire takes root. I want to walk over and shove him off her.

Erik picks up on the change and leans down to murmur in my ear. “Do you want to go get our pictures taken?”

“Sure.” I let his arms slide away from my waist, and we link hands, heading to the opposite side of the cafeteria. A short line has formed at the photo booth. It must be some kind of travel-theworld theme because one backdrop has Big Ben on it and another has the Eiffel tower.

We stand quietly, our fingers intertwined, waiting patiently for our turn. I look up at Erik and find myself smiling, despite it all.

Homecoming. Two years too late for Steven, but it finally arrived. It’s so much like what they show in the movies . . . and yet so different, too. So vibrant and alive. I feel as if I’m watching it through goggles, through a viewfinder, as if I’ll be able to rewind it and see it again and again.

Erik tugs my hand, and I follow him to the first available photo station, one with a giant Pyramid. We step up onto a white felt carpet. The photographer directs us so that Erik is standing behind me, his arms around my waist. My shoulders press back into his chest. I smile for the camera, a wide genuine smile, and the bright flash momentarily blinds me.

“Thank you. Your photographs will be ready on Monday at the main office.” He hands me a slip with a number on it. I hand it to Erik, and he tucks it into the pocket of his slacks.

Erik pulls back the sleeve on his suit jacket. “I think we were going to dinner at eight,” he says. “Should we find the others?”

“Sure. I’m starving,” I say. “I didn’t even catch where we were going, did you?”

“Barini’s? Barelli’s? Something like that.”

I freeze.

His eyes narrow. “What? Is it no good?”

I shake my head, try to get rid of the pressure in my chest. “It’s not the food. It’s . . . it’s on the waterfront.”

I’m not tempted to pull Erik into the water, but I still swim and sing every night, and I don’t know if I can handle sitting at a table with Cole and Patrick. And I don’t want to find out.

His lips part, and he stands there for a second, as thrown off balance as I am. And then, “I’ll take care of it.”

“How?”

He leans in close, his gaze piercing mine. “Just give me ten minutes. Meet me at the door where we came in, okay?”

I nod, and then he gives my hand a squeeze before pushing his way through the crowd.

 

I’m standing in the entry to the cafeteria, arms crossed at my chest, when Sienna walks up. “Can you believe that?”

“Uh, no? What?” I glance at Erik, who trails behind her. He gives me a “just go along with it” sort of look.

“I made those reservations
three weeks
ago. How can they just give away our table like that?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. That sucks.”

Sienna turns to look at Erik. “What made you think to call and check?”

He juts a thumb over his shoulder. “I heard a group of people talking about it when we were in line for pictures. Apparently, they overbooked the dining room. There was a big rehearsal dinner or something.”

Sienna harrumphs. “I should call them, demand that they accommodate us.”

Kristi shrugs. She has on a pretty, powder blue strapless dress. When she crosses her arms, it pushes her almost-there chest up. “I don’t know . . . I told you I don’t like seafood, but I was overruled. I think this is a sign you should have listened.” She gives Sienna a pointed look. She loves that we can’t go to Barelli’s.

Nikki steps up, Cole beside her. Is his hand on her waist? I can’t tell, without leaning over and being super obvious. “Where are we going to go then?”

Patrick nudges Sienna with his shoulder. “How about that fifties diner on Alder street?”

Sienna scoffs. “It’s a
breakfast
diner. We’d have to eat pancakes.” She pauses and motions to her attire. “And we’re obscenely overdressed.”

“I don’t know. That sounds kind of funny,” Erik says. “Way more memorable than a fancy restaurant.
Everyone
goes somewhere fancy for homecoming.”

Kristi grins. “Pancakes sound awesome right about now.”

Sienna raises a brow and gives us all a skeptical look. As annoyed as she is over the circumstances, I can tell she loves that she’s in charge. “Seriously? I guess it does sound kind of fun. Everyone will stare, of course, because who eats pancakes in tuxedoes?” She purses her lips. The idea is growing on her. “What do you think?”

She’s looking at me. I grin, relief flooding through me. “I’m in.”

“Okay, the diner on Alder it is,” she says. “I can’t believe we’re having pancakes for homecoming dinner.”

She turns around and leads the way out of the dance, a queen with her head held high. Erik joins me at the back of the group. The sound of the music disappears behind us as we leave the dance.

“
Thank you,
” I mouth.

“
You’re welcome,
” he whispers, squeezing my hand.

 

We end up at an enormous U-shaped table, the biggest booth at the diner. Sienna was right, of course; the other patrons keep shooting us looks, trying to figure out what a bunch of kids in tuxedoes and ball gowns are doing at a diner where the priciest meal costs $8.99.