Once and for All(14)
“The power of champagne,” he said as the woman turned, bumping her ample rear against the man’s hip. “She’s told me twice tonight she never drinks it, each time with a mostly empty glass in her hand.”
“Weddings are a different world,” I replied, using one of his favorite phrases.
“Indeed they are.” The couple were now outright grinding each other. “And right now, I want to go home.”
“My eyes,” my mother said in a low voice, fake-horrified at the spectacle. “I’m too old for this.”
“They’re senior citizens!” William said, and they both cackled.
“And I was promised an early night off,” I said, looking at my mom. “Can I go?”
“Wait, Louna gets to leave? How is that fair?”
“Because she’s seventeen and paid poorly,” my mom told William. “Her bosses are awful people.”
“I have heard that,” he agreed. He smiled at me. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Whatever I want?”
“Look at our girl, single and ready to mingle at the beach. She’s acting like a real teenager!” He beamed at me, then looked at my mom. “I so hoped this day would come.”
“Stop,” my mom said, pretending to fan her eyes. “I’ll get emotional.”
“Shut up, both of you,” I said, and they laughed again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You are young and so is the night! Carpe diem!” William called out after me as I walked across the patio.
“That means day, William,” my mom said.
“Carpe night, then!” They dissolved into more laughter.
Fine, I thought, as I started across the patio, to the lobby. So what if I did go back to my room and be non-epic, by Jilly’s definition? It had been a long day and weekend, and I was tired. I had all of senior year and college to throw down, if I so chose, and maybe I would. If I didn’t though, it wasn’t my mom and William’s business by any stretch. And really, I was only what they had made me.
As I thought this, the DJ began another song, slower this time. As some couples began to leave the dance floor and others headed in that direction, I stepped out of the way. On the other side of the crowd, my mom and William were still talking, occasionally breaking into bouts of laughter. Finally a path cleared inside to the ballroom, but instead of taking it, I went down the steps to the dark beach below. Later, I’d think of this as the true, real start of that night, where everything began. Maybe that was why halfway down I kicked off my sandals, stepping into the sand with my feet bare.
CHAPTER
4
“I CAN’T believe you waited until now to buy an outfit for graduation,” Jilly said from outside the dressing room. “You don’t leave anything until the last minute. That’s my thing.”
“True,” I told her, pulling my shirt over my head. “But I’ve been busy. And I told you, I didn’t think I needed something new, anyway. My gown will be over whatever I wear.”
“At the ceremony.” Her voice grew closer, along with her feet, toes dark red, in platform espadrilles, now just under the door. “But what about all the parties afterward?”
There was that word again. I made a face in the mirror, hearing it.
“And don’t think you’re getting out of being social this time,” she said, as if she had actually seen this reaction through the door. “We’re Making Memories, remember?”
Now I groaned aloud, and she laughed. A couple of days earlier, we’d stood in line to pick up our yearbooks during lunch period, one of what felt like endless senior year milestones in the days leading up to graduation. The books themselves were heavy and smelled of leather, with this year’s theme embossed in big yellow letters across the cover: MAKING MEMORIES. It was cheesy and ridiculous, which was why Jilly had claimed it as our summer rallying cry, starting, well, now. No longer was it enough to Do Things and Make Stuff Happen. It all had to be memorable, as well.
It was also imperative, apparently, that I have a new dress for graduation, even though because of work I had more than enough options in my closet. So here I was, at one of Jilly’s favorite boutiques, only hours before the ceremony, with her twin eight-year-old sisters, Kaitlyn and Katherine—collectively known at KitKat—hunched over her phone nearby bickering as they played Igloo Melt.
“It’s my turn,” I heard Kitty say. Although they were identical and often dressed alike by choice, their voices were the dead giveaways. Kitty was loud, boisterous, while Kat often didn’t speak above a whisper unless implored to do so. She must have responded, because Kitty said, “Okay, but then I get an extra-long one. And your bonus cubes.”
“Pipe down, loudmouth, we’re in public,” Jilly told her. There was a clank, and another dress appeared over the top of my dressing room door, this one cobalt blue. I pulled the first she’d picked, a bright pink dress with a short skirt, off the hanger and stepped into it, reaching behind me for the zipper. One glance and I knew it wasn’t me, but still, I opened the door.
“Nope,” she announced from the seat she’d taken on a polka-dotted chaise directly across from the dressing rooms. “Too much. I was going for pert and perky, but it’s more like startling.”