After the practice session, Frankie and I sat at the steps leading to the amphitheater’s stage while she intricately plaited my hair into a Dutch braid, but she pulled at the loops of the braid to give it fullness and a deconstructed feel. She wrapped the braid at the side of my nape and stabbed two chopsticks we found in her glove compartment into it to keep it from falling. When she was done, we went to the bathroom to relieve ourselves and for me to examine her handiwork.
“Damn, Smalls, you did good,” I complimented her, examining my braid-hawk in the bathroom mirror as we washed our hands.
“Thanks, Wendy Peffercorn. You look scorching.”
I dipped my shoulder in feigned sexiness. “Thank you, baby.”
We stepped back and examined ourselves. Bittersweet emotion filled me.
“This day is going to radically change the way we’re used to living.”
Frankie sighed. “I know.”
She held her hand out to me and I took it, squeezing it briefly, before dropping it as we headed toward the parking lot to meet our awaiting classmates. We all watched in anxious anticipation as our friends and family filed in to take their seats, waiting to join us in celebration. At noon, they lined us up as we’d practiced and we proceeded to our awaiting chairs serenaded by the incredibly cheesy, yet incredibly emotional, “Pomp and Circumstance.”
Ezra Brandon walked ahead of me, his intriguing scent of oakmoss, sandalwood, and other spices I couldn’t name, assailed me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, memorizing that smell, knowing even though we were going to the same school I’d probably never see him again. As he walked, his right shoulder dipped slightly from the small limp he’d developed after “the change.”
Junior year was the best of Ezra Brandon’s life. Everyone knew it. Captain of the lacrosse team, homecoming prince, and dating Jessica West, head cheerleader at Endicott. It was nauseatingly cliché. He was the most popular guy of our class and had been that way all his life. He had a myriad of friends but wasn’t a snob by any means. He hung out with everyone. He was a social bridge of sorts, comfortable and accepted in every social group.
But this all changed when he totaled his truck over Christmas break our junior year. Ezra woke from a three-day coma to discover he’d shattered both his legs. Lucky to have even survived, he spent a grueling year rebuilding and working through physical therapy. The hard, painful work made Ezra bitter, and he sank into himself almost immediately.
He wasn’t thankful for being alive because it meant he’d never be able to compete again. In losing his ability to play, he’d lost his identity. Jessica broke up with him because he’d stopped calling her, or so she said. Friends abandoned him because he refused to answer his door or talk to them in class. It was a turning point for Ezra. He’d had previous outspoken plans to attend Syracuse in the fall after his senior year on a lacrosse scholarship, but those dreams were replaced with three hours a day in a therapy pool. He was forced to rethink his life, and his new plans made him bitter and angry and very alone.
But I knew him. He was callused, yes, but I knew deep down he was still the same guy we’d all grown up with.
He was Ezra.
We sat down in our graduation gowns and caps. I smiled to myself. If I look as ridiculous as I feel right now, I must look like an idiot. I kept smiling, though. I didn’t care. I was beginning adulthood. It was scary and it was unknown, but it was the beginning of it all and that was a thrilling prospect. The sky was the limit for me and I relished the possibilities.
“What’s so funny?” a deep, silky voice asked, startling me.
I stole a glimpse of Ezra from the corner of my eye. “Me?” I asked.
He laughed quietly, shocking me. “Yeah, you.”
“Nothing,” I lied.
“Sure,” he replied, not believing me.
He turned his body more toward me and smiled, shaking his head a little.
I swallowed hard. Ezra Brandon thought I was amusing? My heart raced in my chest.
He leaned in. “I liked it better before,” he said softly, bewildering me.
“Huh?”
“Your hair. I liked it better before.”
I gulped, afraid to reply for fear he’d vanish into thin air.
After a few moments, I said, “I looked like a rejected cast member from Hairspray.”
He laughed, genuinely laughed, shocking me further. I stared at him like he was a wild animal about to spook.
“More like Penny Lane from Almost Famous,” he commented. I almost went catatonic.
What a friggin’ compliment. Suddenly I was hyperaware of myself. I self-consciously patted my gown down as if it needed smoothing since it was made of fabric not much stiffer than the linoleum in my mother’s kitchen. I straightened my cap and checked the tassel.
“You’re always fidgeting,” he said, my hand freezing on the tassel.
I brought it to my lap and turned toward him. “I do? I don’t mean to.”
“Nervous?” he asked.
Sweating like a pig, I thought. If Ezra hadn’t been next to me, I probably would have been flapping my arms like a chicken to improve ventilation. “A little,” I lied again.
We stared at one another, stuck in a sort of mesmerized state, and a million thoughts raced through my mind. What are you doing? Are you talking to me because it’s the last day and you’re feeling nostalgic? Is it because of our shared collision? The fact I returned your letter? Why, you unbelievably hunky bastard?
“Brandon!” Justin said from behind us, like he’d been trying to get his attention for a while. “You’re up, dude,” he explained when we both turned toward him.
“Sorry,” Ezra rushed out as he stood.
We both sprinted to join the rest of the line from our row. As we edged up the amphitheater stairs Frankie had done my hair on, I felt a little nauseated. I hated it when people stared at me, and this was an entire amphitheater getting ready to watch my clumsy ass flit across the stage. Stop it, Jupiter. Stop. You’ll psych yourself out.
“Ezra Julian Brandon,” Principal Harris announced. A corner in the back of the amphitheater burst into applause. His family, I thought. He took the diploma that wasn’t really his diploma since they always use decoys, shook the principal’s hand, and walked across the stage flawlessly.
See? Not so bad. Now, just duplicate that, Jupiter.
“Jupiter Willow Corey.”
I took careful steps, wincing a little at my ridiculous name. I made it halfway across, shook the principal’s hand, and took my fake diploma.
Hooey! I got this. I got this. This stage is my biatch! I was confident. Too confident. I turned to wink at Frankie. She started to smile but then her eyes blew wide and I knew it was over. I knew I was in for it. I turned in time to see a large electrical wire catch the tip of my heel. I pitched forward, closing my eyes and bracing myself to toss forward on my face, but instead of the concrete stage, I was met by warm arms. I looked up to see Ezra’s face and blushed in equal parts mortification and relief. He set me right then helped me down the steps as the audience burst into applause. I could feel the burn of hundreds of eyes, and it brought the embarrassment up a notch.
“You okay?” he asked, his eyes imploring mine.
“Yeah. Thank you so much for catching me,” I whispered.
“No problem,” he said, the corner of his mouth ticking up charmingly.
He released the arm he’d been holding and I looked down at the white imprints his fingers had left, watching them fade as the color returned to my skin. All evidence of his touch vanished save for the feverish current that had taken residence in my belly when he’d rescued me on stage and had yet to leave.
His brows creased. “Your middle name is Willow?”
My face heated once more. “Uh, yeah,” I answered.
He nodded, an inscrutable look on his face.
I thought it was an odd question, but I didn’t get a chance to ask him why he wanted to know because he turned without another word and went back to his seat. I followed suit, feeling a little dizzy by the strangeness of the day.
Ezra didn’t say anything the rest of the ceremony, not because he was avoiding me, at least I didn’t think that was why. Instead, he seemed distracted by his own thoughts, retreating into himself in that usual way Ezra did, which curiously relieved a bit of anxiety I’d felt. He’d been acting so unpredictably it’d thrown me off.
It was quite incredible, that day. I’ll remember the smells of the youth surrounding me, i.e. the cologne baths, the smiles, and the unbridled potential. The valedictorian gave a rousing speech encouraging us all with the same eternal optimism that each and every one of us possessed, if for no other reason than because we were, each of us, packed full with dreams. Those dreams were bursting at the seams, ready to unfold, to uncurl in glory in the what-ifs. The sky was the literal limit.
We all rose at the end. Ezra turned toward me, a small lopsided smile upon his lips. “Congratulations,” he whispered.
“Congratulations,” I told him, my heart pounding with his soothing inflection.
Then we tossed our caps into the air with the rest of our class. I closed my eyes for a moment as they rained back down to the earth, a sea of onyx seeking their owners. I opened them again to see Ezra’s and my caps tumbling through the air, spinning and carefree, briefly tangling with one another before wresting free from each other, and falling with finality in the row ahead of us.
I leaned forward to retrieve mine but Ezra stopped me with a hand on my forearm. He bent at the waist and scooped them both up, glancing down at them, then handed one over to me.
“Here you are,” he said, looking down at me.
He was at least a foot taller than I was, and I strained to peer into his face. My hands gripped the edges of my cap as I held it against my stomach.
“Well, I guess this is goodbye,” he said.
“I guess so,” I practically whispered with a wobbly smile.
To me it was goodbye. Even though I knew we were both going to the same schools, I also knew the likelihood of running into him there was pretty slim.
“Goodbye, Jupiter Willow Corey,” he said with finality, pitching toward me, his voice going deeper at my name.
“Goodbye, Ezra Julian Brandon.”
He turned away, his cap in hand, and headed straight toward the parking lot in the direction of his car, not bothering to say goodbye to any of the kids we’d grown up with our entire lives. I watched until he was no longer visible.
“He’s a strange cat,” Frankie said beside me.
I gasped at her unexpected presence. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” I said in my best Irish accent, which was terrible.
“Come on, doofus,” she said, dragging me by the arm toward the parking lot.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “Aren’t we going to stop and say goodbye to everyone?”
“What are you talking about? We’ll see everyone tonight at the bonfire.”
“Yeah, but everyone’s in their caps and gowns now. It’s different.”
“Stop being stupid, Jupiter. We have to catch Ezra before he drives off.”
I stopped in my tracks but my arm went with Frankie. I winced at the pain and pulled my wrist away, using my other hand to rub away the sting.
“I’m not doing that,” I said, meaning it.
“That’s okay, you don’t have to. I will,” she said, continuing her pursuit of Ezra.
“Stop! Are you trying to embarrass me, you brat?”
She laughed at that. “I’m always trying to embarrass you, idiot.”
“Yeah, but this will mortify me, even worse than my almost crash and burn on stage just now.”
She laughed again. “That was epic. Really epic, actually. But the crash and burn isn’t what made it epic,” she said, rounding a huge SUV. “What made it epic was the palpable freaking tension between you and that boy right there,” she said, pointing at Ezra as he got into his GTO. “You don’t have enough brass to ask him for the ride, but I do.”
“Please, Frankie. Seriously, Frankie. Don’t. You’ll seriously embarrass me.”
She slowed but didn’t stop. “Then you better get your behind over there and start asking before I do.”
I caught up with her, a little out of breath, and stared at her as we drew closer to Ezra’s GTO.
“Don’t make me do this, yo.”
She smiled. “Dude, bite the bullet.”
“I can’t,” I whined.
“You can,” she mocked.
“I don’t want to.”
Frankie stopped and pointed her finger toward Ezra’s car. “Do it or God as my witness, I will do it for you, and you won’t like how I’ll do it.”
I crossed my arms, my lips pursed, feeling pissed. Ezra started to back out of his space and Frankie made a move like she was going to go after him.
I jumped in surprise. “Fine! Fine!” I huffed, and she stopped where she stood.
“You’re the meanest person I’ve ever met, Frankie Zajkowski!” I called out.
“You’ll thank me later, idiot! Now go!”
I reluctantly ran toward Ezra’s car and came upon him just as he’d cleared his space. He’d started to hit the gas to drive forward but stopped when he saw me running toward him, a look of pure confusion crossed his face and stayed there.
“Ezra,” I said, out of breath from the brisk walk but also from the nerves.
“What are you doing here?” he asked over his rolled-down window.
“Sorry, but, uh, I wanted to ask for a favor.”
“Okay?” he asked, puzzle apparent in his tone, making me exceedingly anxious.
I took a deep breath and ordered myself to act cool. “It’s kind of a big favor, but, well, as it turns out, we’re both going to the University of Washington,” I began.
Ezra looked baffled. “Why didn’t you say something before?” he asked.
“Well, ’cause, well, I didn’t think we’d actually see one another or anything. It didn’t even cross my mind that you’d, ya know, care that I was going to the same school or whatever.”
“Why wouldn’t I care?” he asked, surprising me.
“Uh,” I stuttered, “I don’t know.” I shook my head to gain control of myself. “Anyway, uh, well, I have no way to get to school. My parents aren’t exactly thrilled that I’m leaving or whatever. So basically, I need a ride.”
“Oh,” he said, obviously astonished at my request.
“Listen, it’s okay if you’re, like, not comfortable or anything.” I laughed nervously. “I mean, I get it. Honestly. It’s a huge favor, so don’t worry about saying no, ’cause it’s a lot to ask.”
He studied me with an inexplicable look I would have given anything to decipher. I’d rested a hand on his door but let it drop when he didn’t answer immediately. I looked down at my shoes so I didn’t have to look at him any longer. My neck felt hot and I contemplated turning tail. I took a deep breath to compose myself and met his gaze.
“Okay, so I guess—” I began, but he interrupted, my head whipping up.
“You can ride with me,” he said. “My cousin Kai was coming down from Chicago to help me with the drive. You okay with that?”
“Uh, sure,” I said, almost in disbelief he’d agreed to let me tag along.
“I promised my mom that I’d spend a few days in Chicago to break the drive up, but also to see my aunt and uncle. Are you cool with that, too?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
He leaned over and picked up his phone. “What’s your number?” he asked, my adrenaline kicking into high gear.
“Three-zero-five. Five-five-five. Seven, four, nine, three.” I just gave Ezra Brandon my number. He punched in the numbers as I’d rattled them off then looked up at me, another unreadable look on his face. “I’ll text you the day before we leave to get your address.”
“Okay,” I said, numb with the coursing blood running through my hyperaware body.
Ezra put his black GTO into drive. “Oh, and Jupiter?” he asked, the vibrations from the engine thrumming through my stomach, heart, and head.
“Yes, Ezra?”
“Travel light,” he said with a smile that could only be interpreted as mischievous. “It’ll be a tight fit.” He looked ahead then pressed the gas.
“Well, well, well,” Frankie said at my right, slinging an arm around my shoulder, “I do believe we have ourselves a solution to your previous problem.”
I took a deep, shaky breath. “Yeah, I have a ride now,” I commented.
Frankie laughed. “That wasn’t the problem I was referring to.”