Senior Shut In was a Jane Austen Academy tradition that had begun in the 1960s. The day before graduation, all the seniors were herded into the auditorium dressed in nightgowns, pillows in hand. They’d stay up all night talking, laughing, and singing. When dawn arrived, those who had fallen asleep roused themselves, and everyone sleepily drove to breakfast before preparing for their parents’ arrival and the afternoon graduation ceremony that took place in the quad.
Today’s Senior Shut In was scheduled for the night before prom, since the auditorium would then be prepared for demolition and would be unavailable for use before their official graduation day. The students had been promised the stage and audio system, as well as access to the auditorium-style seats.
Everyone was excited for Senior Shut In. Especially Anne’s friends.
The only problem being… none of them were seniors. Tran and Knight were, though, and had brought Fanny and Emma into the auditorium as their dates, leaving Anne, Lizzie, and Ellie watching from the shrubbery as seniors filtered in through the front door.
“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Ellie asked.
“We’re not the only ones.” Lizzie pointed to another group of girls—sophomores, by the look of them—who were hiding in another clump of bushes. The auditorium had two access points—one from the interior of the school, which they had already noted was heavily guarded by teachers, and one from the exterior of the school by the box office. Apparently anyone with half a brain had decided to target the latter. “Everyone feels robbed that they won’t get a Senior Shut In. I bet the whole school is sneaking in tonight.”
Anne glanced down self-consciously at her pajamas. Emma had insisted that no one was expected to actually show up with pimple cream, messy flyaway ponytails, and sweatpants. She had lent Anne a pink V-neck top to match pink flannel pajama bottoms with feet and a print of neon penguins wearing sunglasses all over them. Emma had dressed Ellie in dolphins and Lizzie in doves.
“We should go now, so we’re first.” Lizzie gestured for them to follow her.
“Shouldn’t we go second, so that if they’re caught, we can sneak in past them?” Ellie asked.
“Too late for that logic,” Lizzie hissed, and took off. Crouching, they ran from the shrubs to the theater box office, then flattened themselves against the wall until they reached the emergency exit. As promised, Emma had propped it open for them with a rock earlier in the evening. Lizzie opened the door and kicked the rock away as they slipped inside.
They could hear muted pop music from their hiding spot in the emergency stairwell. They ran up the short set of metal stairs, which clanged under their weight. When they got to the door at the top, Lizzie twisted the handle, but the door didn’t budge.
Anne tried it. Ellie, too. They all had their turns banging their shoulders into the door.
“Why didn’t she leave this door open, too?” Lizzie pulled her phone from her fuzzy pajama pocket. Before she could dial, the door opened.
Anne backed up against the rail as Headmistress Berg ran a cool gaze over the three of them. Her red hair was twisted into a tight knot that stretched the corners of her eyes back.
“We were just—”
Berg silenced Lizzie with two fingers, pointed upward. “Not now, Miss Egmont.”
“It was my idea,” Lizzie said. “Don’t blame them.”
Ellie and Anne both began to protest, but Lizzie whipped her head around to hush them. Anne knew Lizzie was doing it because she loved them, but Lizzie also loved being a martyr where Headmistress Berg was concerned.
The headmistress was also dressed in her pajamas—white silk long pants and a long-sleeved shirt with tortoiseshell buttons, which, given her usual wardrobe, managed to make her look normal. Her eyebrows pinched together over her stern nose. “I have just one thing to say to you.”
Anne winced, waiting for the inevitable tirade from the headmistress. She cataloged the ways Berg could punish them. Not letting them go to prom? Maybe not letting them walk at graduation?
Headmistress Berg swung the door open all the way. “Have a nice time, ladies.”
“Huh?” Ellie said.
“Don’t question it.” Lizzie grabbed them both by the shoulders and pushed them in front of her. “Thanks, Berg.”
“Don’t mention it,” Headmistress Berg said. “I mean it. Really. Don’t mention it. Ever.”
“You got a deal.”
Anne managed to walk another hundred feet before freaking out. “Did that just happen?”
“You know,” Ellie said speculatively, “Emma always suspected she was really nice.”
“And Emma’s always right,” the three girls parroted.
* * *
The stage was packed from one end to the other. There was barely room to walk because sleeping bags, pillows, and blankets lay side by side with hardly an inch between them. The Shut In rule was that the entire auditorium was only allowed to use one set of speakers, and everyone could request one song off a playlist for the night. If everyone in the Academy had managed to squeeze into the auditorium, they wouldn’t get through a tenth of the songs.
Anne waved at Emma, who had managed to get a primo spot in the center of the chaos. They made their way around their peers, stopping every few feet to chat or hug someone. They turned down invitations to join card games and scary campfire stories told around the fake fireplace setting.
Emma squealed when they joined her, stamping her feet as she hugged her friends. Her pajamas had unicorns, which didn’t surprise Anne one bit. Fanny, somehow, had gotten away with just wearing a tank top and sweatpants. She was sitting between Tran’s bent knees while he massaged her neck.
Anne looked away, a little embarrassed by their intimacy.
“Where’s Dante?” Lizzie asked, craning her neck for any sign of her boyfriend, who was also supposed to sneak in with Ellie’s boyfriend, Edward. Only Kat and Henry were missing out on the night due to some audition that Kat had to fly down to Los Angeles for.
“You beat the guys here,” Emma said. “Good for you.”
They laid down their pillows and piled on top, talking and laughing about Fanny’s red-post.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Fanny said innocently.
“Plausible deniability,” Tran said. “We’re doing you a favor.”
Anne shifted onto her side. Even with the pillows and sleeping bags, the cold stage floor was hard under her shoulder and hipbone.
Dante and Edward arrived, breaking up the group for a moment as the couples paired off and wrapped around each other.
Anne turned and faced the rest of the auditorium, trying to ignore the whispers, giggles, and soft sounds of the sleeping bags behind her. At least Rick wasn’t here. Although that probably meant he was with Lucy.
Which was worse, she didn’t know.
No, she knew. Rick’s being with Lucy was worse than his being here alone. Rick’s being with anyone was worse than anything. Which meant her life would just keep getting worse, because Rick would always be with someone who wasn’t her.
Anne had become accustomed to accepting certain realities about her life. She and her sister were never going to be bosom buddies, no matter how much she wished for a best friend in Mary. She and her mother were never going to have the kind of relationship that people swore was more of a friendship. She was never going to go down in the annals of history with the rest of her Escobar ancestors—but she was going to find a way to be a vet, so that was okay. But somehow, this reality, this acceptance that Rick would love another, hurt her most of all.
She couldn’t let it go. Didn’t care what others said. Comments like “you’ll love again” and “you’re so young” and “nobody marries their first love”—these weren’t realities to be accepted, and part of her hated that others expected her to swallow them down like a pill that would fix what ailed her.
“Looks like you’re in need of a shoulder to lean on.” Josh plopped down next to her in jeans and a gray tee instead of pajamas. He was never one to play to theme. He kissed her on the cheek. His hair tickled her temples, and she smelled alcohol on his breath.
Worried, she whispered, “Have you been drinking?”
“Just a sip to take the edge off.” He winked and rested his arm over her shoulder.
She patiently pulled it off. “Edge off what?”
“Of watching Fanny and Tran make out all night.” He pulled a face. “You won’t leave me, will you?”
“No, of course not.”
“All the way through breakfast? You’ll drive.”
“You’ll be sober by then.”
He glanced back over at Fanny. “Not if I can help it.”
Anne sighed. This time, when Josh slipped his arm around her neck, she let him. There were worse things in life than letting Josh Wickham flirt with her.
* * *
“Psst. Anne.”
Anne lifted her head from the card game she was playing with Josh, which he kept trying, unsuccessfully, to turn into strip Go Fish (although by her count, she would have him down to his underwear by now).
Emma beckoned for Anne to stand up and follow her.
Anne looked to Josh since they were in the middle of a game, but he held up his hands defensively. “Far be it from me to get in the way of something Emma wants.”
Anne set down her cards, uncrossed her legs, and stood. She stretched her hands overhead to ease the cramps from sitting down all night.
“Follow me,” Emma said, putting her finger to her lips.
“Where are we going?”
Emma winked, which to her was probably as much of an answer as Anne needed. They walked over and around the sleeping bags and into the green room, where actors changed into costume between scenes during school plays. Knight was waiting for them, leaning lazily against a wall, knees and arms crossed. Only he could make a pink velvet-footed onesie look cool. Maybe it was the bow tie.
“Uh-oh,” Anne said, eyeing them both. “What are we up to?”
Emma’s green eyes were the picture of wide-eyed innocence. “Why would you think we were up to something?”
Knight grinned and ruffled Anne’s hair. “Give the girl some credit, Emma. She has known you for more than half a second.”
Emma made a sour face. “Oh, all right.” She reached into her pajama pocket and pulled out a red Post-it. “It’s my turn.”
“And you’re stealing me?” Anne suggested with a sly smile. She held out her hand. “Red-post away.”
Emma slapped the Post-it on the back of her hand. “No, but close. We have to hurry.” She walked through the green room.
Anne cast a wary glance at Knight, who shrugged and followed his girlfriend, leaving Anne to bring up the rear. The green room led to a hallway and then the prop room, which was locked. Emma spun around. Her eyes filled with the closest thing to desperation Anne had never seen in her friend.
“I’ve had this dream,” Emma said, “for a while now. It’s senior year. Prom. I’m wearing a white silk asymmetrical dress, Greek style, backless. Maybe a few jeweled—”
“Move the dream along,” Knight urged.
“Anyway.” Emma shot him a look. “It’s midnight and time to announce the prom queen, and someone goes to the mic, and there’s a screech of feedback right before they say Emma Greene.” Emma clapped, as if the memory was real. “Then everyone parts so I can make my way to claim my crown. It’s placed on my head.” Emma touched the crown of her head, her lashes drifting shut. “And then I’m queen.”
“Am I the king in this scenario?” Knight asked.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t know you when I started having this fantasy.”
“And the Academy has never had a prom before,” Anne pointed out.
“I know,” Emma said. “It was always just a dream. A fantasy. But now we’re having a prom, and there’s a crown. And Anne—I want it.”
“Er, but… you’re not a senior.”
“I know.”
“And the crown is behind that locked prop door,” Anne said.
Emma nodded.
“If you want to pick the lock, don’t you need Tran?” Anne asked.
“Why would I pick the lock when you have a perfectly good master key to all the interior rooms?”
Anne hissed in a breath. Knight looked at Emma in surprise. Her master key technically belonged to the Trust and was on loan to her and her mother while they finished marking all the items in the Academy for sale or return. “You want me to just let you in? To steal?”
“Steal?” Emma blanched. “We all know that crown is rightfully mine. You’re going to let a little thing like me being born a year late get in the way of that? Why do you care, anyway? The Academy isn’t yours anymore!”
“Emma!” Knight’s voice fell like an axe.
Anne felt numb, but then something else eased through her. Something buoyant and lovely and so real.
“I didn’t mean it to be hurtful,” Emma said.
“I’m not hurt,” Anne said. She lifted her chin, as if she realized she finally meant it. “I’m not hurt. The Academy isn’t mine. It never was. I never wanted it.” She pulled the key out of her pocket and handed it to Emma. “Go get your crown.”
The seniors were going to flip out when they discovered the crown missing, but for once she wasn’t going to worry about the Academy. She was just going to think about her friend.
Emma hugged her and whispered, “Thank you,” in Anne’s ear before turning, unlocking the door, and running into the room.
Knight sighed and folded his velvet-clad arms. “Something tells me she’s going to wear that crown straight through to graduation.”
“Would that be so bad?”
Knight grinned and shook his head. “I hope she wears it through the summer.”
“Are you spending the summer together?” she asked, surprised.
“Probably. I’m moving to Manhattan. I start NYU in the fall, and Emma’s going back to her parents and starting school there.”
“That’s lucky,” Anne said. “You’ll both be in the same city. You don’t even have to worry about being apart like the rest of them.”
“Luck. Fate.” He shrugged. “It is what it is. And it just happens to be what I need.”
Anne wouldn’t have pegged Knight for the type to believe in fate. Besides, what did that say about Ellie and Edward? Did fate not want them together? Or Fanny and Tran? Or she and Rick?
She didn’t like the idea of fate, she decided. Of some fickle force deciding who was worth it and who wasn’t.
Emma floated out the door, the crown nestled in her curls. “How do I look?” she asked.
Anne smiled at her friend. “Natural as a queen.”
* * *
Even though they’d promised to stay awake all night, shortly after two in the morning they began to nod off one by one. The music had been turned off at midnight. A few hushed whispers and giggles echoed off the corners of the theater stage, but for the most part, there was soft snoring and the rustle of sleeping bags.
Anne had drifted off and awakened to discover Josh’s arm belted around her waist. He wore cologne, something aquatic and fresh. Even asleep, his breath, which blew across her neck in even whiffs, smelled like minty toothpaste. She glanced down at his face resting against her shoulder. At his cut jawbone, his perfectly pouty lips.
How much easier they could have made their lives by liking each other. Emma had even tried to set them up. If she could just get over Rick and he could just get over Fanny… and why couldn’t they? They were reasonable people. Logical people.
Anne herself had never been one to be ruled by her emotions, like Emma or Kat.
Unable to sleep, she pushed Josh’s arm until he flipped over onto his back. Then she stood up and stretched her legs. She was sore after lying on the hard floor for so long, and needed a walk.
Tiptoeing around the other sleepers, she made her way outside. The air was crisp and cool. She worried for a moment about getting the bottom of Emma’s footie pajamas dirty, but it felt too good not to walk around.
She wandered to the courtyard, to the apple tree, and was surprised to see a figure beneath it.
“Rick?” She bent her head and squinted. His face came into view as she got closer. He was leaning at the foot of the tree. “What are you doing? Why aren’t you at the Shut In?”
He studied her in silence, and she felt his gaze raking over her. Then he said, “You were all asleep by the time I got there.”
“You could have woken us up. We were trying to stay awake.”
“You weren’t trying that hard. Besides,” he went on before she could defend herself, even though she didn’t know why she should have to, “you guys are always hogging the tree. I thought I’d get my turn.”
She hugged her arms around her waist and shivered.
“Want to get warm?” He crooked his finger.
Anne felt nearly immobile but found herself walking to him, sliding against the bark of the tree, and coming to a stop sitting next to him. He scooted over so their legs touched. With a quick move, he shrugged out of half his jacket and wrapped it around her so that they shared it, like one body.
She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to breathe, in case the moment rippled away like a dream and she awoke to find herself on a cold, hard theater floor. Anne couldn’t stop herself from being greedy. She snuggled closer to him and brought up her knees so her thighs rested on top of his.
The jacket slipped off her shoulder, and he ran his arm across her back to pull it up. He left his arm there, warm and heavy around her. She dug her head against his shoulder. Her breath was coming in short, shallow gasps. She gripped the front of his shirt in one fist. She didn’t look up at him because she worried that if she did, his face would be completely impassive stone, even with them like this.
“Are you comfortable?” she asked.
She could feel the plump curve of his lower lip against the whorl of her ear as he said, “Mmhmm.”
She wanted closer, she wanted more, and it took everything in her to remain still. After a thick moment when she thought she’d go crazy, she gained control of her breath and the thoughts in her head. It was then she finally heard his heartbeat.
It wasn’t steady or serene. It was a firecracker of uneven bursts.
She glanced up at him in surprise, and he seemed just as surprised at her movement when their eyes met. Her lips fell open, and his gaze dipped there and back up.
“Do you need to go?” he asked.
She shook her head. Her whole world was shifting around her, as if the only universe that existed was a snow globe containing the two of them and the tree that some god had whirled upside down with a flick of his wrist.
“Do you want to go?” he asked.
“No.”
The arm around her waist tightened, and his other hand, resting on her knees, did the same. She waited for him to close the small gap between their lips, but instead he watched her face, carefully.
“Oh,” she said, remembering with a shake of her head. “I do have to drive to breakfast. I promised Josh.”
He disentangled from her in a flash and got to his feet.
“But that’s not until morning.”
“I should go anyway,” he said.
“Maybe you can come to breakfast?”
“I have to check on something.”
Anne scrambled up. “Lucy?”
His brow furrowed a moment. “She’s fine. You… you made her fine. God, Anne, you were amazing with her.”
“She can come to breakfast too,” Anne said, desperate to offer anything for even a glimpse back at that moment.
“She can if she wants. I don’t think I’ll be hungry.”
It wasn’t until he’d walked away that she realized he’d left his jacket.