“We’re just friends. She asked me to the dance.”
“You look like a lot more than friends.”
“I could say the same about you and my tutor.” His eyes avert to rest on the asphalt.
So he was watching. I should feel satisfaction. But the pain between us is too great. I can’t find the words to explain any of this, so I settle on an accusatory statement: “Yeah, well, Peter isn’t Melody Davenport’s sister.”
Gideon takes a breath. “It wasn’t on purpose, becoming friends with Gracie. I just…wanted to see her. To see if she was all right. We started talking, and I felt like I needed to be around her. Like if I couldn’t wind the clock back and save Melody, I could at least make sure Gracie was okay. I never told her about that day, though. I wanted to—want to. Being with her is nice, but you’re right. It hurts.” His eyes shut tightly.
I turn around to vomit again, remembering a moment too late that we had moved away from the bushes. Chunks vaguely resembling noodles splatter over the asphalt. I move farther down the parking lot, taking a seat on what appears to be a spot of clean curbside. Then, having lost all sense of timidity along with my dinner, I blurt, “Why did you kiss me on the log in ninth grade?”
Gideon lets out a faint, bitter laugh. “Come on, Cass. You really want to talk about this now? Things are so messed up. And besides—”
“Yeah, I know,” I cut in. “You don’t want to be with me because of Asher.” I wince as my whiny voice comes to rest on my ears.
“It’s not about that.” He doesn’t elaborate, so my mind is left to wander.
“You like her.” It’s a statement—one he doesn’t correct.
Instead, he scoots toward me again to gently rub my arms, which are plagued with goosebumps and frozen to the touch. “How are you doing?”
“Better than I was, I guess.”
“How many cups of punch did you have, anyway?”
“I don’t know. Five?”
“You could give that girl from The Exorcist a run for her money in a puking contest.” He peers down at me, biting his lip like he’s trying not to laugh.
I give him my best attempt at an irritated glare. “There’s the light at the end of the tunnel.”
He chuckles. “No, but seriously. You look worse than the time we ate that green lunch meat we found in the back of your fridge.”
I punch his arm weakly. “You were the one who said that nasty meat would be fine.”
“Never thought I’d see you at a school dance.”
“That makes two of us.”
He shrugs. “Kinda always figured if you ever went to one, it would be with me.” His eyes are distant now, perched somewhere off in the large trees bordering the school. I feel a pang in my chest. How many other hopes and dreams and firsts will pass us by while we remain stranded on opposite sides of this schism?
He pulls me to my feet and we wander away from the harsh streetlamps. He turns to face me, and in that second, beneath the faint moonlight, his eyes focus on mine the way they did on the log when we were fourteen. “Cass.” His voice is soft and low.
I hold my breath, wishing. “Yeah?”
He smiles. “Stay away from the punch.”
I force a smile in return, but my heart plummets. “I will. Giddy?”
“Yeah?”
“A minute ago, when you said it wasn’t about Asher. What did you mean?”
“Just forget it.”
“I don’t want to forget it. I want…” I step toward him, reaching out to place a hand on his firm jaw.
His eyes shut as my hand moves up his scruffy cheek. “Cass, stop.”
“This can work. I know it can. And I spoke to Asher—”
He pries my hand off and steps back. “Cass, it’s not about Asher! It’s about the fact that I can’t even look at you anymore. I see you in the halls, and I can’t breathe. I see you in English, and I can barely find the strength to write my name on the paper. When I look at you, I go back to the day Melody disappeared and I didn’t help her. After everything that day, the way you kept things from me—from the cops, what you did to Brandon… I love you, Cass. I always will. You have this power over me. My mind isn’t my own.”
I don’t try to contain the tears. My legs feel weak, my head impossibly heavy as Gideon continues. “I used to think that one day we would be together. But now, I know it was all a fantasy. I’m looking at a total stranger.”
My vision blurs and I bend over. My heavy head sways in circles as I rest my hands on my knees. Black tears drip onto my dress. It’s over. Our moment beneath the lights was just that: a moment, ephemeral and fleeting. Our old times have as much chance of returning as Melody Davenport herself. I knew turning Seth in wouldn’t bring her back, but I thought it would bring back Gideon.
He puts his hands on either side of me. “Here, let me walk you inside.”
“Don’t touch me,” I snap. “Wouldn’t want you to fall under my evil spell again.”
“Cass, you can barely walk.”
“I’ll manage. I’m going to have to get used to doing stuff without your help.” I pull my head up, swallowing back the nausea, and whip around. I rush toward the side door of the gymnasium, praying I won’t pass out before I make it inside the restroom.
* * *
Though the queasy feeling subsides, I’m in no shape to remain at the dance. I can’t face anyone in there. After briefly entertaining the idea of walking home, I think better of it, due to the difficulty of the journey and the inability to ever face Peter again if I ditch him.
After cleaning up in the restroom, I head back out to Peter.
He’s no dummy, and immediately takes my hand and leads me to the exit. Judging by the glare he shoots Gideon on our way out, he also guessed who picked up the pieces during my absence. Or left me in pieces.
On the car ride home, I’m quiet. My shame and the ebbing effects of the alcohol push my now-tousled waves back against the headrest. Peter reaches over to smooth a strand of my hair. His fingers remain threaded there, tickling my ear for a moment before moving back to the steering wheel. “What happened back there?”
I shrug. “I drank the punch.”
“Right.” His silence is sharp and telling. I feel the need to explain myself, to try and salvage this relationship that’s about to end before it started. Peter wanted to come here with me, despite the whispers that follow me everywhere. Why did I throw that away for a chance with someone I’d already lost? “I did warn you about that,” he adds, playfully.