SENIOR YEAR was almost over.
I’d turned eighteen.
I’d graduated from hobbling along on crutches to hobbling along with a cane.
And Nguyen had become an important, almost essential, part of my life. And even though we were just friends, I couldn’t imagine going a day without texting, talking, or skyping, along with all the time we spent together at school.
The week before our dance, the regular formal official school prom was held.
Since I was hoping a lot of the people who attended that one would come to ours as well, I went to go pass out flyers.
It was kind of what I expected. It had been built up in everyone’s minds, for some since freshman year it seemed, that it would be the highlight of their time in high school. But given that, I figured it could only disappoint.
Ours, I was absolutely sure, would be a lot more fun.
A celebration rather than an occasion for formals and stiffly posed photos.
Still, I’m glad I went. Or made an appearance at any rate.
And hopefully I convinced a few of them to come to ours as well.
We had, in fact, sold more tickets than I had originally thought we would. Not by a lot, but even so, enough to guarantee a good crowd. And enough money to cover our costs, with a little help from Ms. Hernandez, who somehow came up with enough to push us over the edge.
At our last meeting of the alliance before the dance, we made sure everything had been taken care of. Decorations and refreshments were on us. Principal Hernandez provided a security guard. Just in case.
And most importantly there would be music. We’d hired the best DJ we could afford—which wasn’t much, but fortunately she gave us a discount because of who we were—because if you don’t have the music, what’s the point of having a dance, know what I’m saying?
That was Thursday. Friday after school we’d start with the decorations. The dance was Saturday night.
I’d spent the day getting everything set up. Making sure everything was done. Nguyen was there to help, of course, as was Rafael. And Laura, of course. And a few others from the alliance. When we were close to getting done, Laura told me, “Collin, you’ve done enough. Go home. Get some rest. Come back tonight and take a good look at all you’ve done.” She gave me a hug and said, “Go.”
So I went home to an empty house, sat down at the dining room table, and thought about stuff.
It wasn’t exactly what I’d hoped the night of the dance would be like. I had, even long after we broke up, imagined that Josh would be taking me to the dance. I’d even imagined him coming down to Houston the night before and spending the night with me in my bed in my own room, but obviously that wasn’t going to happen.
Even now I imagined him surprising me by showing up at my door, looking amazing in his tux, and asking me to go with him.
Obviously not going to happen.
Then I’d planned on Nguyen coming to dinner before we headed out, together, to the dance.
Again, that wasn’t happening either. Rafael was going to pick him up, meet his parents, and then go to the dance. I could imagine the awkward meeting. Maybe a couple of photos of the happy couple taken by Nguyen’s dad.
The two of them walking down the sidewalk to Rafael’s car. Maybe holding hands. Maybe Rafael would open the car door for Nguyen. Maybe as they drove off, Rafael would rest his hand on Nguyen’s leg. I couldn’t imagine Nguyen making the first move. Maybe they’d sneak a fast kiss at a red light.
And I was kind of okay with that. Basically.
I mean, sure it hurt a little. Or even more than a little.
But I liked them both. And if it wasn’t going to be me with Nguyen, I’m glad it was Rafael. They seemed to make each other happy. And if they were happy, I was happy for them.
At least that’s what I kept telling myself. And honestly, I mostly meant it.
Mostly.
I was still at the table, thinking, petting Clark, who had moved underneath the table and between my knees, when Mom and Dad got home.
They had brought pizza. And breadsticks. And cannoli. And gelato.
Three pints.
“Your dad and I thought you might need this tonight,” Mom said.
She was right. I did.
I set the table. Mom and Dad opened a bottle of wine and, in honor of the occasion of the dance, poured me a glass as well.
“We thought you could use this as well,” Mom added.
After that, we ate mostly in silence, with nobody really wanting to address the proverbial elephant in the room.
Finally, I said something.
“Look… I’m fine. It’s cool. I know it’s weird I’m going without a date to the dance that I started and I know you hoped I’d be going with Nguyen, but it’s totally 100 percent okay. Promise. Nguyen is going to have a great time. And I… well, I know that without me, none of this would have happened. I helped make it happen for him and all those other kids. And that makes me very, very happy. Okay?”
And after saying it, I realized it was true. Because of me, a lot of kids would be able to get together and dance with whoever they wanted to dance with for the first time ever.
Dad cleared his throat and gave Mom a look.
“You know we both love you, and we’ve respected your privacy and never pressed you about that night. But I’d like to get this out for me, to share with you and your mom what that night was like for me.
“For us.
“And to let you know how much you mean to us.
“Your mom and I were both asleep when Kristen called in hysterics. ‘You’ve got to get here… there’s been….’
“She stopped. Then Ziggy, I guess it was, got on the phone. He told me that something had happened, something bad… and then another long pause.
“He finally told us that you and Nate had been at a club, and there had been a shooting. And that I needed to get to City Hospital fast.
“Collin, I honestly don’t remember driving there. Next thing I knew your mom and I were at the desk. The nurses told us you’d lost a lot of blood… a lot of blood… but that the prognosis was good and we should go ahead and take a seat and wait.
“And wait and wait.
“You can’t imagine what it was like.”
He was right. I can’t.
“I remember me and your mom sitting there in silence, holding hands. Just waiting.
“As we sat there, the waiting room filled up with other parents, boyfriends and girlfriends… all of them with the same stunned scared look on their faces as your mom and I must have had on ours.
“I remember they had to bring in more chairs. And still some people had to stand.
“Nobody said a word. That was the eerie thing, nobody said a word. Everyone there was in their own world of shock and grief.”
I sat silently, kicking myself for not even beginning to imagine what that must have been like for them.
I don’t think I’d ever loved them so much.
“Periodically, doctors would emerge from those swinging doors they hide behind to tell someone the good news or the bad.
“Finally it was our turn. You were out of surgery and a full recovery was expected.
“Your mom cried. I did my best not to.
“I told her she should go home and walk Clark and get some rest. I stayed with you. No point in both your mom and I being exhausted.
“When I went in to see you, I had to brace myself to keep from crumbling. You were attached to so many machines, and you looked so young, so pale. I did the only thing I could think to do. I held your hand and told you how much I loved you and held your hand until you woke up.”
At first I didn’t know what to say. But then I did.
“Dad… I… thank you. Thank you for staying with me. And thank you for being there when I woke up. I’m… I’m glad yours was the first face I saw.”
Mom took a deep breath. “Since it seems to be this kind of evening, and I don’t get to talk to you about… well, about the things that matter all that often….”
“Oh, Mom….”
“Collin—be quiet and listen.
“I don’t think you know how proud I am of you. How proud your dad and I both are…. We’ve never talked about what happened that night, and I think I understand why you haven’t wanted to—to us, anyway—and… I’m not sure if I really want to either. I can imagine what it must have been like, but hearing you tell me about it would, well, I don’t think I could stand it.”
I saw her struggling not to cry, so I looked away.
“I will say this, though… the way you came out of it and then out of that dark space you were in for so long after it happened… your father and I both know now that you can handle pretty much anything life chooses to throw at you.
“If I’d gone through anything like you’ve gone through at your age, I would have been broken. But you, you’re stronger than ever. Don’t ever forget that, Collin. You’re far stronger than I think you realize. And that’s your gift, and one that will get you through almost anything.”
I started to say “Oh, Mom” again but didn’t. I’d let her have that moment. And besides, I liked what she said.
It was time for me to get ready, and as I got up to head upstairs, I told them this:
“I know I’ve been difficult… that everything has been difficult… that I’ve been difficult and haven’t tried to make it easier. I’m sorry. And I love you both.”
Then headed up before they had a chance to say anything.
Putting on my tux and getting ready for the night was kind of sad. I never thought I’d be doing it alone.
Time for a brief pity party in my honor, especially because I couldn’t figure out how to tie my tie.
But then there was a knock on my door. Dad came in, and without saying a word, came over and helped me with the bow tie I had been struggling with, said, “There you go,” and left.
It was just what I needed.
One more quick glimpse of myself in the mirror—okay, two—and I was ready to go.
Mom and Dad were, of course, waiting at the bottom of the stairs, ready for some serious picture taking. Me alone. Me and Mom. Me and Dad.
Dad drove me to school; I’d uber or get a ride home with someone there. When we pulled into the parking lot, there was a group of what looked like protestors near the entrance. “Want me to come with you?” Dad asked.
“Nope, I’ve got this,” I replied, got out of the car, and with help of my cane, slowly made my way toward the entrance.