Anything but Ordinary(50)

“Who knew the future could be so sexy?” Carter muttered, smiling.

Bryce laughed and sat back in her seat. A comfortable silence settled between them. Bryce’s thoughts drifted elsewhere as Carter turned up the Beatles singing “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” on the radio. She would find something she loved to study, like Carter had, and she would walk the steps every day to Vanderbilt’s red brick buildings and listen to lectures. She would pore over books while she ate, and study all night for tests.

Bryce glanced over at Carter and unbuttoned the top button of his Oxford shirt. There was something else that came next, too. The more time she and Carter spent together, the more she thought about having sex with him. Or at least what she imagined sex would be like. She and Greg had never gotten that far. Another milestone Bryce had missed.

Carter glanced back at her and turned the music down, as if he wanted to say something.

“Yes?” Bryce said.

“I was just thinking…” Carter began, pondering. “The Jetsons.”

“What?”

“The clothes they wear in The Jetsons. That’s also kind of a sexy version of the future.”

Bryce narrowed her eyes at Carter over a half smile. “Seriously?”

“What?” he said, shrugging. “Don’t judge me. That was what I was thinking about. What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Bryce sighed, smiling broadly out the window. “Nothing at all.”





ryce turned the camera on her parents. She selected the black-and-white feature from the photo options and told them to put their arms around each other. They rolled their eyes like two teenagers, but fell comfortably against one another, her father already in his gray sweatpanted pajamas, her mother still in jeans and a camel-hair blazer.

“No, like the picture!” Bryce said. “The one that used to be on the mantel.”

“What was it—” Bryce’s father adjusted his arm.

“We hold hands,” her mom reminded.

They found the pose from their prom picture: the two of them in profile, facing each other, their hands awkwardly entwined in front of them. Elizabeth Gergich and Mike Graham had been high school sweethearts in their small town. She was a shy church girl. He was a star swimmer. They both grew up on farms. Bryce snapped the photo.

“Did you get it?” Bryce’s mom left the pose to see the picture. She found the display. “Bryce, honey! You didn’t have to do black-and-white. They had color photography back then.”

“You guys look great,” Bryce said, admiring her handiwork.

Her mother muttered, “My hair could use some volume, but that’ll do. We don’t need another one. What do you think, Mike?”

“You’re the boss,” he said.

“Bryce’s turn again.” Her mom hustled Bryce against the dark wooden door.

“No,” Bryce said, adjusting her wrist corsage. “Wait for Carter.”

Senior prom was the final item on her list because Carter had told her to save it for last.

“Get a dress and a corsage, leave the rest to me,” he had said.

So there she was on a Saturday night, draped in a long, gold dress, her hair in a French twist, waiting for him like Christmas morning. Her parents had played their parts nicely. Her mom worried about the lily on her wrist matching Carter’s tie, and asked for his phone number so she could know exactly where they were going and when they were getting home. Her dad tried to hide his wet eyes under the guise of “allergies” when he saw her come into the hall for the first time.

Finally, a knock sounded on the door.

Carter stood in her doorway in a fitted black suit with a thin black tie. He had combed a part in his dark hair. When he saw Bryce, he took a sharp breath through his nose.

“You are breathtaking,” he said.

“So are you,” Bryce said. “You look like a secret agent.” It was true: he reminded her of a 1960s James Bond. Nothing got Bryce like men from old action movies. She bit her lip.

“Let him in, baby!” She heard her mother’s voice behind her.

Bryce opened the door farther and Carter stepped in. Snap! The pictures began. He took his place next to her, putting an arm around her silky waist. Snap. Bryce took his boutonniere from the mantel and attached the lily to his lapel with its pearl-topped pin. Snap. Bryce had to stop herself from snatching the camera from her mother, but she supposed if she wanted this to be a real senior prom, then having her mom take way too many pictures was entirely necessary.

After what seemed like a lifetime of frozen smiles, Carter said, “Well, we should take our leave.”

Bryce’s mother put down the camera. “One. One a.m. sharp.” She set her pale pink lips in a thin line. “I’m serious.”

“Mom—”

“No, I’m trying to get better at this. I need to practice.”

“Yes, Mother,” Bryce said with mock obedience.

“That’s better.” She took Bryce and Carter in her arms. With Bryce in heels, her mother only came up to their shoulders. “Have a good time.”

Bryce breathed a sigh of relief as they left the house, her heels clicking down the sidewalk. She took in the smooth night air and shivered with excitement. Carter’s tiny old Honda hummed at the curb.