You Know Me Well(14)

“How on earth was this not the first thing you told me tonight?”

“Everything was such a blur,” he says. “And, you know, I’ve been kind of preoccupied. But I should text this guy and find out if he really is at a party, because it would suck if we used him as an excuse and it turned out Ryan saw him somewhere else.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Good call.”

Mark sends him the world’s longest text, reintroducing himself, providing some distinguishing characteristics to remind the guy in case he’s taken pictures of quite a few could-be models tonight, saying that the night has stalled out, and asking if there’s anything cool going on.

“If he writes back I’ll just say that we’ll try to make it. And then I can tell him that it didn’t work out.”

“Good plan,” I say, but as I say it I glide over two lanes and slow to take the narrow, curving exit onto Treasure Island.

“Where are we going?” Mark asks me, and the truth is that I don’t know. But it isn’t home. Not yet. As I pull onto the side of the road, the awe is officially back. The city glows so close in front of us. I can almost hear the voices of hundreds of thousands of celebrating people.

“Hand me the phone,” I say.

He doesn’t ask me why; he just does it.

I find his recent calls and tap Home.

“What’s your mom’s name?”

“Becca,” he says. “But, to be honest, I don’t think—”

“Becca!” I say to the voice that answers. “This is Kate Cleary. I’m a senior in Mark’s Calc class, and I also happen to be his chaperone this evening. I’m calling to touch base with you about our plans.”

“Are you the person who is supposed to be driving him home right now?” Becca asks me. Her voice is so familiar even though I’ve never heard it. It’s the stern but kind voice of a TV mom. I don’t yet know her, but I know her. And so I carry on.

“Yes,” I say. “And, in fact, we are in the car now, and we will absolutely keep driving home if that’s what you need. But I have to say that the night is young, Becca, and we are, too.”

“Is this on speaker?”

“Just a second. Now it is.”

“Hey, Mom.”

“Mark?”

“Yeah, Mom.”

“You remember your SAT workshop starts tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“I want you to get the most out of it.”

“Yeah, I will.”

“Kate, how did you do on your SATs?”

“All right.”

“Where are you going for college?”

“UCLA.”

“Oh,” she says. “Wow. And what class are you in with Mark?”

“Calculus. I got into their art program. There was a portfolio review, so the SAT scores matter less. But they were fine; they were decent.”

“Maybe you could help Mark this summer.”

“Mom.”

“Vocabulary drills, maybe?”

“I’d love to,” I say.

“Mom,” Mark says.

Becca sighs.

“So what do you think?” I ask. “We don’t even have any plans. We’re just enjoying the energy. It’s extra celebratory this year. Any chance we could get an extension on the evening? Just a few hours?”

“Normally I would say no to this. It’s already so late and you snuck out, Mark.”

“You snuck out?” I shake my head at him in mock disappointment.

“Sorry,” he says into the phone. “You know. Desperate times? Or something?”

“Wait,” she says. “Where’s Ryan?”

“He, um…” Mark is searching for an answer and I don’t want him to get himself into even more trouble by covering for his sometimes-secret-boyfriend, other times heartbreaker-of-a-best-friend. But it’s his call, not mine.

“He’s asleep in the back,” he finally says. “It’s just Katie and me awake now.”

“Okay. You can have a little more time. But only if you stay together.”

“I’m the ride,” I remind her. “So he’s stuck with me.”

“Two hours from now at the latest. And that is firm.”

Mark’s jaw drops.

“Awesome. Thanks so much, Becca!”

“Okay, Kate. Come around the house soon so we can meet in person. Mark, have fun and be safe. I love you.”

We hang up, and Mark says, “Two hours from now? Are you my fairy godmother? Is this Jeep actually a pumpkin? I didn’t even know my mother was capable of establishing this kind of curfew. I wasn’t sure this hour was a time she knew existed. Like, maybe theoretically she knew, but I certainly didn’t think she would know from experience, like from actually looking at a clock and seeing that it was this late and she was still awake.”

“Don’t underestimate your mother.”

We both look out at the city. All of those lights, all of that darkness. I touch one of the rose’s petals. Violet is out there, somewhere.

“So,” Mark says. “I’m pretty sure you’re babysitting me.”

“Yeah. I wasn’t going to say anything about it, but that’s definitely the impression I got.”