Happenstance 3 (Happenstance #3)(21)
Author: Jamie McGuire

“It’s not supposed to be like this,” I said, my voice small. “You’re not supposed to be miserable. We’re supposed to be making good memories, remember?”

He nodded and then reached for me. I took the few steps and melted into his chest, allowing his arms to encompass me.

“Hey,” I whispered, hoping my voice was comforting. I gripped his maroon graduation robe in my fists, trying to pretend I hadn’t heard every excruciating thought he just confessed.

He buried his face in my neck, his breaths jagged. He was getting more upset, and it was frustrating to know that the more I’d tried to put him at ease, the worse he seemed to feel. I would have to change my strategy.

“Weston,” I snapped, forcing him to look into my eyes, “I’ve been thinking about what we talked about the other day.”

He held his breath, bracing himself.

“You’re wrong. You are all kinds of wrong about everything.”

“That…sucks,” he said. He furrowed his brow.

“I do need you.”

He leaned away from me, searching my eyes for something.

“I know you don’t think I do, and that’s my fault. Maybe I didn’t want to need you. But I needed you to come to the Dairy Queen for an ice cream every day just so I could have that one moment when it was just you and me. I needed you to pull up next to me when I was walking home that night. I needed you to make the overpass the first place I ever felt safe. I needed you to kiss me in front of everyone at the ball field. I needed you to share my first limo ride. I might even need you to be afraid to lose me because I’m terrified of losing you.”

“You don’t…act like it,” he said, the words seeming to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

“I don’t want to talk about how we’re going to make this work after this summer because I don’t want to think about it. I just want it to work. I just want us to figure it out.”

Weston’s eyebrows pulled in. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“No, you are. And so am I. We’re going to say good-bye in a couple of months, but I just concentrate on the fact that it will not be forever. OSU is going to be my second home, and Dallas will be yours. My new friends will be yours, too. And even when we don’t have experiences together, they’ll just be something else we can spend an hour laughing about on the phone. We’re going in different directions, but we can always come back to us. We’re home base.”

He pulled off his silly square hat and cupped my jawline, tilting his head and pressing his lips on mine. He didn’t bother to begin with his mouth closed. He consumed me, his fear and relief evident in every passionate brush of his tongue against mine. He didn’t ask for more promises or for me to change schools. He’d only needed the assurance that I was as scared as he was because love was wonderfully terrifying.

Weston pulled his cap back onto his head and inhaled, deep and slow, as if it were the first time he’d breathed in weeks.

“I’m sorry,” he said to me.

Peter and Veronica walked in, looking relieved to see their son more relaxed.

“I’m sorry,” he said to his parents. “It just hit me this morning before the sun even came up. But it just kept getting darker. The closer it got, the worse I felt.” He touched the silver chain he saw peeking from my gown, and then he pulled the heart-shaped trinket from its hiding place.

“This is the beginning, not the end,” I said.

Veronica held Weston’s tassel, the corners of her mouth cautiously turning upward. I wasn’t sure how much of our conversation she had heard, but she could see Weston was in an exponentially better mood.

“Don’t forget this,” she said, fastening it onto the top button of his cap.

“Everything okay then?” Peter asked. When Weston nodded, Peter jingled his keys. “Let’s roll. The grandparents are waiting.”

Weston rode with his parents to the high school, and I rode with mine. The Gates and the Alderman families met in the parking lot, and Weston and I walked toward the vocal room while our parents met Weston’s grandparents in the auditorium.

Once inside, Weston chatted with his baseball and football buddies, holding my hand, while I listened to the excited banter of everyone else filling the room. Seniors hugged, and some of the girls dabbed their eyes with tissue, careful not to smear their mascara. Everyone was happy, maybe the happiest I’d ever seen them.

Mrs. Pyles approached me with her signature beaming smile and bright blue eyes. “Look at you!” she said. “Are you nervous?”

“Not really,” I said.

“You’re going to be one of the first ones to walk.”

“Oh. Will they say Alderman?”

“I think so.”

I hadn’t thought about that. It might be weird for so many to hear the name Erin Alderman over the PA when the Erin Alderman they knew had passed away.

“Would you rather them say Easter? I can let them know.”

“Maybe you could ask them to say Erin Easter Alderman?” I said, not sure if that was the right thing to do either.

“You bet.” Mrs. Pyles winked. “I’ll just go take care of that now.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

Before she could get too far, I tugged on her cardigan. She turned and then stiffened as I gave her a hug. It was unexpected but not unwelcome.

“For everything. Thank you.”

She hugged me back. “You’re welcome, sweet pea. I’m just so darn happy for you.” After a sweet grin, she spun on her heels and continued to the auditorium.

Brendan, Brady, Micah, and Andrew stood together in the corner of the room. Brady’s eyes were no longer swollen, but the bruising was still obvious with purple splotches that had just begun to turn yellow in a few spots. I figured all traces of his run-in with Weston would vanish within a couple of weeks.

The senior class adviser, Mrs. Hunter, could barely be seen in the crowd, but her voice boomed across the room. “Okay, all! Time to line up!”

Just as we’d practiced on Friday morning, all eighty-four members of our senior class somehow organized themselves into alphabetical order without much confusion. The exciting hum grew louder as we settled into our places. Brady was just five spots away from me, but it was easy to pretend he wasn’t there. With Kiki Abrams on one side of me and Charlena Arnt on the other, I was kept occupied with conversation.

Kiki gingerly patted the corner of her eye. “I can’t believe I’m so emotional. I didn’t think it would bother me, and all I’ve done today is cry.”