Love Letters to the Dead(20)

“You should.”

“Why?”

“Just ’cause. What if it does actually turn out like it’s supposed to? You know, like Christmas when you were little and it didn’t make you sad.”

Sky laughed a little and said, “You think a lot about that, don’t you? How it’s supposed to be.”

Before I could answer, Sky was at the front of the line. He ordered his pizza, which came in a tinfoil triangle. When it was my turn, Sky looked like he didn’t know if he should wait for me or carry his shiny pizza away. I looked at him as the lunch lady tapped her fingers impatiently on the counter. I was holding up the line. I knew there was something to say. But he just smiled, a smile that seemed to understand, before he walked away.

Yours,

Laurel




Dear Kurt,

The night of the dance, I ate cold potato pancakes with Dad. That sounds sort of depressing, but I didn’t mind really. The only thing is I didn’t have a dress. I tried on a few old ones, but they were all stupid and frilly and didn’t fit right anymore. I wanted to look pretty, in case Sky came and saw me. So I went into May’s room. I opened the closet, which has her cut-off-at-the-neck sweaters folded on the shelves with the arms behind them and her stuffed animals stuffed into the back, and I found the dress, the red silk one. I tried it on. It fit almost right. It was longer on me, and the open top hung lower on my chest (because I don’t have that much of one), but I felt almost beautiful. The hem was cut in flowy spikes with sequins on them. I turned around and around until I was dizzy, in a good way. I put on eye shadow until my eyes seemed to smolder.

The bad part was I had to ask Dad to drive me. I think he thought I was lying when I said my date was waiting for me at the dance. I think he felt sorry for me, because he thought I was going alone. I told him that I’d get a ride home later, since I know he likes to go to bed early, but he made sure to say that I could call him if I needed to be picked up. Then he said, “Sweetie, you look beautiful,” the way a dad does. I wondered if he remembered it was May’s dress.

When I got there, I stood in front of the double doors of the gym, waiting for Evan. He’d texted me that we were supposed to meet at eight thirty. It was 8:43 when he finally came up behind me and grabbed my sides. I let out a little yelp, pretending to be surprised. He was wearing a black shirt and a purple tie.

“Hey. Did I scare you?” he asked. His eyes were red, like he was stoned. I realized that our clothes didn’t match at all.

“Yeah. A little.”

He looked like he already regretted asking me to the dance, but he tried to cover for it. “Are you ready?” He linked his arm in mine and we walked in. I felt bad for him, having to go with someone who is so not good at this stuff, and I thought I’d try to make the best of it for us both. But I just couldn’t make myself say the right things. When he said, “You look pretty,” I mumbled, “No, I don’t.” What I meant, I guess, was that he didn’t understand. It was my sister’s dress.

We got inside and I wasn’t sure exactly what to do. Finally Evan asked if I wanted some punch.

“Sure,” I said. He said he’d get some and left me standing alone in the middle of the bright room with the entryway and the picture booth.

I am usually good at finding things to look busy with, but there was nothing. I unstuck a bobby pin from my hair and stuck it back. I could hear a muffled version of “Bad Romance” coming from inside the gym.

Finally, I saw Natalie walk in with this boy Brian, who sits alone at the double lab table in Bio and raises his hand all the time. She had on a floor-length black dress that fit perfectly on her body. Her skin was smooth like usual, with no makeup. Brian trailed behind, wearing a bow tie and too much hair gel. She looked as relieved to see me as I was to see her, and we rushed over to each other.

“Why do people do this?” I asked.

Natalie laughed. “No idea. But I guess we’re as stupid as the rest.” She pulled out a little flask from her purse and handed it to me. “Schnapps?”

I took a swig. And another. Natalie loved May’s dress, and I spun in it for her, and spun again and again. I spun until I was almost happy.

Natalie did a bang-up job of more or less ignoring Brian until Hannah came in. She was wearing satin like most of the girls there, but it looked beautiful on her. Her pale freckled shoulders stood out against the straps of the midnight blue dress. She was holding on to Kasey’s arm. It was the first time I’d seen him. He’s short, and even without heels on, Hannah must be taller than him. But he’s made of big stocky muscles, the kind that you only get if you work really hard on them. As she maneuvered him over to say hi to us, all of a sudden Natalie pulled Brian closer. Clearly Hannah didn’t feel the way we did about the dance, or she didn’t let it show, or her pi?a coladas weren’t virgin, or all of the above. Because she was a perfect girl on a college boy’s arm, chatting and giggling at a private triumph, and finally dragging Kasey off to the photo booth.

When Evan finally returned and handed me a half-drunk glass of punch, I didn’t ask what had taken so long. He shifted from foot to foot, looking unhappy about the company. Finally he said, “We’re here to dance, yeah?” Then he reached his hand out to me. “Shall we?” I tried to be a good date and followed him into the gym. I was high enough on the swigs of Schnapps that I had stopped caring that this was not the way my first dance was supposed to be. They were playing a Jay-Z song. Evan was mouthing along, except he sang the real “Can I get a f*ck-you” lyrics over the bleeped-out “Can I get a what-what” version they had on. He thrust around from foot to foot and put his hands halfway into his pants.