The Serpent King(70)

“Sweetie? Is everything okay here?” Dr. Blankenship said, coming to the door. “Dill?”

Lydia broke the hug and exhaled quickly, fanning herself with her hand while she composed herself. “Yes, everything’s fine. Dad, I think we’ll be pulling an all-nighter. Dill is going to college, and because his decision is coming a bit late in the game, we’re in a hurry.”

“You’ll need coffee. The primo stuff. And lots of it,” Dr. Blankenship said, starting for the kitchen.

“And Pizza Garden. With bacon and jalape?o cream cheese. Stat!”

“You hate Pizza Garden.”

“I don’t love Pizza Garden. There’s a difference.”

“What about Dill’s mom? She probably frowns on all-nighters at girls’ houses,” Dr. Blankenship said.

“Correct,” Dill said.

“And we can’t mention college to her,” Lydia said. “We need a solid lie.”

“I’m officially required to tell you that I don’t approve of lying to parents,” Dr. Blankenship said.

“I’m officially required to tell you who cares and let’s get cracking on that Pizza Garden,” Lydia said.

“Touché.”

“Okay. Lies,” Lydia said. “You’re not feeling well and you’re going to sleep on our couch?”

“Not even close,” Dill said. “We need to go full Bible…I’m reading the New Testament out loud and witnessing for Jesus to your whole family, and everyone is caught up in the Spirit, and you all keep demanding to hear more and more.”

“She’ll buy that?” Lydia asked, awestruck.

“Wanting to believe something is powerful.” Dill smiled. A genuine one. The first Lydia had seen from him in weeks. Since before. They texted Dill’s mom with the story. She was pleased. Besides the Jesus angle, she was probably happy to believe that Dill was excited about something again.

They spread out over Lydia’s room. They kept her printer hot with college, student loan, and financial aid applications. Dill, fortunately and unfortunately, knew all of his family’s relevant financial information, down to his mom’s social security number.

“Dad?” Lydia called down at one point.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Start writing Dill a letter of recommendation for college.”

“Coming right up.”

They worked through the night. They quickly determined that Dill would apply to Middle Tennessee State University, the University of Tennessee at Knoxville, and the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. Middle Tennessee State was Dill’s first choice, because of their music recording programs and Lydia’s sense of where Dill might thrive. She Googled it and discovered that seventy percent of the MTSU student body were first-generation college students.

By dawn, Dill was ready to apply for college, complete with admission essay and financial aid documents. He and Lydia lay on her bed, side by side, staring at the ceiling, exhausted, quiet. Like marathoners who had just crossed the finish line.

“Dill?” A long pause. “Can I ask you something?”

Another prolonged silence. “Yes.”

“How close did you come?”

He drew a deep breath and held it before releasing it. “Really, really close.”

“What stopped you?”

“My promise. And remembering the talent competition.”

She turned to him, lying on her right side, and put her hand on his cheek. “Thank you for keeping your promise. A world without you would break my heart.”

He put his hand over hers and held it there for a while. Then he began slowly stroking her hand, running his fingers along hers.





He thought he could hear her heartbeat. Or maybe it was his own, thrumming in his ears. Are you still afraid? Even now? Even as you listen to your own heart beating in death’s shadow? His hand moved more insistently on hers. She didn’t move her hand from his face. He slowly slid his fingers between her long and delicate fingers. The way he’d wanted to for a very long time. His heartbeat grew louder in his ears.





Every part of her felt warm and liquid and flushed as Dill’s guitar-callused fingertips stroked the webs of her fingers. She spread them to let his in between hers. Whatever this is, I like it. However reckless, however unwise this is, I don’t care. I’d rather lose him this way than any other way. This was the most coherent translation of her incoherent thoughts. The wild delirium she felt might have been lack of sleep combined with too much coffee. But she didn’t think so. She’d been sleep-deprived and overcaffeinated before, and it didn’t make her desire her best friend’s hands doing all over her body what they were currently doing to her hand.





Their fingers intertwined and they clinched hands. And here you thought that just deciding to keep living was the bravest thing you’d do this week. He went to the secret vault where he kept his talent show feeling. He opened it for the second time in twenty-four hours. He hoped it would sustain him one more time.

With a quick motion, Dill turned onto his side and raised himself up on his left elbow, his face about a foot from Lydia’s. They looked each other in the eyes. He could hear her breathe and then stop. For a second Dill feared she would start laughing. But she didn’t. Instead, she parted her lips as if about to say something. But she didn’t. He thought the most alive he could feel was in the moment after he’d done something incredibly brave. Turned out, he also felt pretty damn alive in the moment just before.