I’d returned Ezra’s acceptance letter with an apology for the collision first thing that next morning. He took the letter with a shrug and tossed it into the bottom of his school bag, as if he hadn’t even realized he’d lost it. He threw a “see ya” over his shoulder and headed to his first-period class.
The last three weeks of school passed by so quickly it was unsettling. By the time we were done with finals and prom, my head was spinning.
“Jupiter,” I heard softly, someone shaking my shoulder.
I rolled over to see who it was. “Mercury?”
“Get up or you’re gonna be late.”
I took in the morning sun streaming through the round window above my bed and sat up abruptly. “What time is it?” I asked.
“Nine.”
“Nine!” I exclaimed. I glanced at my phone, only to discover I’d forgotten to plug it in the night before. “Oh my God!” I said, my voice rough from disuse and anxiety. “I’m supposed to be there at ten! It takes over half an hour just to drive there, and Frankie will be here in twenty minutes!”
“Damn, and I’ve been up for hours,” she said.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” I squealed.
I stood and ripped back the old vinyl accordion doors of my closet, yanking my robe and shower towel from their hook.
“I didn’t know you weren’t up yet!” she answered defensively. “I would have gotten you up if I’d known.”
I sighed. “Sorry, I’m just pissed. I wanted to do my hair and take my time looking nice.”
“Sorry, man.”
I ran to the bathroom, peed quickly, and hopped into the shower, washing my hair and shaving my legs in less than ten minutes. When I jumped out, I flipped my hair into a towel and cinched it tight, hoping it would leach out as much water as possible while I applied my makeup. I didn’t really have time for anything but simple so I swept on some mascara, eyeliner, blush, and a little lip gloss. When I ran to my room, I tossed my robe onto my bed and started to scramble through my underwear drawer.
“Where’s the underwear I just bought?” I asked myself. I tossed the garments from the drawer around the room but couldn’t find it. I even checked the top of my dresser but it wasn’t there. “I can’t believe this,” I said to no one. I hit the button at the front of my phone to check the time. “Cheese and rice!” I only had seven minutes.
All my stuff was in the wash, so I was forced to wear the only pair I could find. The pair everyone has stuck in the back of their drawers. You know, the pair you never wear because it makes you feel like a beached whale and you only really own because your granny gave you a pack for Christmas and also made you open them in front of all your cousins and aunts and uncles? Yeah, that pair. I grabbed a bra and tossed it on as well. A knock sounded on my door and it opened. I looked over to see Mercury.
“You okay in here?” she asked, glancing at the mess I’d made searching for my new underwear.
“Yeah, fine,” I tossed over my shoulder. Mercury took a seat at the end of my bed, eating a bowl of cereal. I glanced at the corner of my room. “Where is my dress?” I asked her.
“What?” she asked, her mouth full of homemade granola.
“My dress! My dress! It was right here!” I said, pointing at the old chair I kept in the corner of my room where I’d laid out my outfit for graduation.
“I didn’t see any dress there earlier.”
“What?”
“There wasn’t a dress there when I came in this morning.”
“A dress just doesn’t get up and walk away, Mercury!”
We both stared at one another, eyes wide. Mercury set her bowl on my dresser as I put my robe back on.
“Mom!” I yelled, climbing down the metal winding staircase that led to Mercury’s and my rooms. “Mom!”
“What?” she asked, walking into the kitchen from outside. She wiped dirt-smeared hands onto her gardening apron.
“Mom, there was a dress on the chair in my room. I set it out last night,” I said evenly, hoping she didn’t do what Mercury and I were both sure she probably did do.
“Oh that?” she asked, dismissing it with a hand. “It looked like something a lady of the evening would wear, so I donated it to the Salvation Army.”
“Hooker, Mom. You mean hooker,” Mercury chimed in. Mom chided her with an irritated look.
“That was Frankie’s dress!” I yelled, losing control of myself, my arms extended and palms up in exasperation.
“That explains it then,” she added, humming to herself as she washed the dirt off her hands.
I fell into a kitchen chair, my hand going to my head. “Why do you always do this?” I asked her.
“Do what?” she asked, seemingly unaware of what she’d done.
Mercury sighed. “Mom, didn’t you think it kind of a coincidence that Jupiter had a dress laid out on the chair she always lays her clothes out on, the night before graduation?”
Mom looked thoughtful for a moment. “Oh, dear,” she said, realization dawning on her. “I’m so sorry, honey,” she soothed, coming to my side. She leaned down. “Listen, I have this old dress I used to wear back in high school tucked into the back of my closet. It’s amazing. It’s all these shades of brown and the collar turns up—”
“Mom,” I interrupted, “I’m not wearing that.” She stood up, a hurt look on her face. My heart softened. “Mom, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’ll find something else.”
Mercury and I trudged back up the stairs and she helped me fish a few pieces out of my closet that were somewhat decent enough for a graduation ceremony.
“I guess I’m going eclectic,” I said, staring down at the hodgepodge worth of pieces on my bed.
“Yeah, that’s what this is. Eclectic.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Thank God for the graduation gown.”
I threw on a bright blue floral-print pencil skirt that had hints of hot pink in it, tossed on a nude spaghetti strap camisole and a sheer pink blouse over that, and tucked both into the long band of the skirt.
“Here,” Mercury said, rummaging through the hooks over my bed that held all my jewelry. She unhooked a large, chunky gold necklace and placed it around my neck. I sat at the edge of my bed and put my heels on. Mercury tore the towel off my head, her mouth screwed into disapproval.
“What?”
“You look like a drowned cat,” she said.
“Oh nice! Thank you for that.”
She laughed. “I’m sorry but it’s true.”
The doorbell rang and I stood, resigned to my fate. I teetered down the metal staircase in my heels with my graduation gown and cap in hand and answered it.
“Ready to—” Frankie began but stopped when I opened the door. “What the hell, Jupiter? What are you wearing? Why is your hair wet? What happened to all our careful planning?”
“I forgot to charge my phone last night and woke late.”
“But where’s the dress?”
“My mom. I owe you one dress.”
Frankie nodded her head in her usual resignation when it came to my mom. “I see. Come on then,” she said, walking toward her jeep.
I swept the door closed with a kiss on Mercury’s cheek and a promise to see her at the ceremony later.
“Does it really look that bad?” I asked.
“The outfit’s cool, like Gwen meets Marilyn, but your hair, dude,” she said, rummaging through her hobo bag. Her own long blonde hair fell across her shoulders as she dug deeper. “Where is it?” she asked absently. She pulled a brush out and tossed it onto my lap. “Clean ya’self up.”
I started at the ends to get the tangles out. “What’s the point anyway? It’s just going to get all messed up on the drive.”
“I got you.” Frankie laughed. “Sorry, didn’t have time to put the top up.” She pulled a scarf out of her bag and handed it to me. She pulled one out for herself and tied it around her head to protect her hair.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll let it dry in the wind.”
“S’your funeral,” she said, backing out of my driveway like it was turning to quicksand.
“Jesus, Frankie! You drive like you’re on fire!”
“Didn’t you know?” she asked, throwing the jeep into drive. “I am on fi-ya!”
She peeled out on my street, our laughter singing in the wind behind us as we headed out toward Overseas Highway.
Endicott Academy was only about twenty minutes away from my neighborhood in Key Largo, but the graduation ceremony was being held at the small convention center on Thatch Island, which had the most incredible natural beaches, a rarity near the Keys. As Frankie’s jeep crested the edge of the island, I was struck with a sense of finality. The reflection shimmered off the surface of the crystal clear water and white sand beaches.
“I can’t believe I’m moving to Washington,” I said quietly.
Frankie peered my direction before placing her hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Jup. You’ll be back for the summer next year before you know it.”
I smiled at her. “And until then, we’ll live it up.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
We pulled in to Leighton Amphitheater, our car stalled behind a line of our fellow classmates. Several boys had gotten out of their cars to peruse the passengers behind them, including a very tasty-looking Jason Packard.
“Oh ma gawd, look at Jason,” Frankie whispered. She leaned out of her door and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Jason Packard, get back in your vehicle! You are hindering the line’s progress. I repeat, return to your vehicle!” Frankie yelled in monotone.
Jason, of course, turned around and sauntered our direction.
“That boy is too fine for his own good,” Frankie said under her breath to me as she checked her lipstick and removed her headscarf, making me laugh.
“Well, hello there, Frank’n’beans. Looking good,” he said, his eyes crawling the length of her legs.
“Check your hormones, meathead,” she said, making Jason guffaw. Actually guffaw, which I didn’t really believe could happen in real life, despite all the times I’d read books that used the insipid word. There’s another word that doesn’t belong in a book. Insipid. So ersatz. Okay, I’ll stop now.
“You like my hormones,” Jason teased, edging closer to Frank’s face. She swallowed. “A lot,” he continued. “I’d say you’d do anything for my hormones.”
I fought a smile, biting my lip, and looked out the windshield. My mouth opened in disbelief. Ezra Brandon was two car lengths ahead of us, his ’65 black GTO turned perpendicular with ours as he was following the line into the parking lot, and he was looking directly at me. Nay, he was staring directly at me. He’d noticed I saw him, yet he didn’t look away. His penetrating stare did things to my insides, heating me up all over, and making me feel like I was tumbling over and over myself, spinning out of control. Blood rushed to my head and I felt dizzy for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest. I looked away quickly, my hands smoothing my skirt as I attempted to gain control of my breathing. His stare still laid heavily on my face and shoulders and chest. I glanced back up. He was still gazing at me, his eyes squinted almost imperceptibly but I noticed, and I wondered what he was thinking, wondered why he was taking me in, wondered what he was memorizing so acutely.
My brows furrowed, my mouth opened slightly in confusion, and in question, but he didn’t answer. He had nothing to say. Instead, he shifted in his seat to face the lot again.
I breathed deeply, caught off guard by his gaze, but also because his stare felt sharp, intruding, and I wanted to know what it meant, why he did it, but mostly I needed to forget how it’d made me feel, how it seemingly altered me from the inside, raising the temperature of not just my body but also scorched my heart, because it felt as if he’d branded me with that stare, and I belonged to no one but myself.
I looked out onto the amphitheater, anxious to get inside and leave behind my strange moment with Ezra Brandon, when I caught a glimpse of myself in the side-view mirror.
“Frankie!” I gasped, startling both her and Jason.
“What?” they yelled.
My eyes began to sting. “My hair,” I whined.
The wind had indeed dried my hair, but it had also twined it in that unforgiving manner wind seemed to bestow on God’s most awkward creatures, namely me. You see, if Frankie had let the wind blow through her hair, she would have defined the phrase “windswept,” but not me. No, not me. The wind offered me no such favor.
“I look like I stuck my finger in a light socket!” I complained, a few tears sprang free of their own volition.
“It’s okay,” Frankie assuaged, trying to smooth down the sides, but her face betrayed her words. Her hands lifted from my hair. “It keeps springing back up,” she said, fascinated by the mechanics of my insane hair.
“Now I know why he was staring,” I mentioned absently. “I look like eighties Sarah Jessica Parker!”
“Who was staring?” she asked.
“No one,” I answered and sighed.
Frankie pulled into a parking spot and we hopped out of the car. There was nothing I could do. It was sort of my luck that on the last day I would see all my classmates I resembled Cousin Itt.
“I can braid it,” Frankie offered, gathering all my hair that fell at my waist and twisting it around her palm.
“It’s too late now. We’re needed at the practice. Maybe after that but before the ceremony?”
“Sure, babe,” she said.
After we parked, we all congregated at the front of the amphitheater waiting for the principal to call us up in sections according to the first letter of our last names.
“You’re lucky you’re in the C’s,” Frankie observed. “Such a pain in the ass that my last name is Zajkowski. Now I’m going to have to stand in these horrendous heels for half an hour while they get everyone situated.”
“Sorry, Frankenstein,” I said, bumping my hip with hers.
“It’s okay,” she answered, smiling, and bumping me back.
Good ol’ Frankie. She was never bummed for long.
“Okay, B’s and C’s!” the principal called out.
“Bye, buttercup.”
“Bye, jelly bean.”
“Yo, Jupiter, what’s up with your hair, man?” Jose Vasquez commented.
I shot him a dirty look. “Oh yeah? Well… What’s… What’s up with your face, Vasquez?”
“You got that?” he teased.
He and a few other boys started snickering, painting my face red. Kill me now.
“Mister Brandon?” I heard the principal call out.
“Here,” Ezra answered quietly.
“Take a seat here, son.”
Ezra did as he was told and sat. He glanced around him and his gaze fell on me, an emotion flitted across his face, but it was gone before I could decipher it. He looked away and then my stomach clenched. Uh-oh. Uh-oh. My last name was Corey. Okay, so it was Brandon and then Carrington. Wait, Molly Carrington moved away last year.
Oh.
Shit.
“Miss Corey?” the principal asked.
My hand self-consciously went to my hair. I kept pulling the length through my hands over and over. “Yes, sir,” I croaked, before clearing my throat. “Yes, sir,” I said clearly.
“Sex with Ezra, please.”
My head whipped up. “What?” I asked, appalled.
“Next to Ezra, please.”
I giggled nervously, earning me a strange look from Principal Harris. “Yes, sir.”
I started walking toward the seat next to Ezra’s but made the mistake of looking over at Frankie. My face flashed a million shades of red as she opened her mouth, her tongue sticking out at the corner, her brows close, her nose scrunched, all in an annoying attempt to tease me. I waved at her to stop, but it only spurred her on more as she started to spank the air in front of her like an imbecile. I’m going to kill you, Frank. I peered over at Ezra but his head was down, his hair falling forward over his face.
I sat down next to him, wrapping my arms around myself and shoving my knees away from him as far as I could get them in an attempt to make myself smaller. My hands went to my blonde, frizzy hair and I started to attempt to smooth it down over and over again, running my fingers throughout in a futile attempt to tame it.
Ezra’s head lifted abruptly and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but he refused to look at me, facing the front of the amphitheater instead. Yes, kill me now.