You Should See Me in a Crown(69)
“Granny, I—”
“Shhhhhh, don’t worry. I’m not mad. Your mama thought about running her senior year. Had a big plan and campaign slogans and everything. But she decided against it at the last minute.” Granny rubs the back of her neck, and it’s in that motion I realize how tired she is. She looks like she hasn’t slept properly in weeks, and I silently kick myself for not noticing this either. “I’ll admit, me and your grandaddy weren’t the most supportive of the idea.”
I pull at one of the frayed threads of the hole in my jeans.
“It was a different time then. Campbell was a different place, but not that different. Now y’all can date who you want and wear what you want, and people will leave you be. They may think what they wanna think, but they won’t do the kind of stuff they used to do back then.”
I nod. Granny isn’t a naturally verbose woman, and something about hearing a story spill from her lips makes me both incredibly happy and incredibly sad all at once.
“I know I haven’t said anything about all this prom hoopla you got going on, Lizzie. And I’m sorry about that.” Her voice cracks a little. “And I’m sorry I never told you to slow down when I saw how hard you were pushing yourself. I guess I just didn’t want to make the same mistakes I made with your mama.” She reaches over and wipes the tear that escapes with her thumb. “My Lizzie, my little star. I never want to tell you not to burn as fast and as bright as you can.”
Granny is human, and so was my mother, and so am I. We are not above mistakes, not stronger than death, but we sure know how to love. Even if it isn’t always perfect, especially when it’s a little messy, we know how to love one another fiercely. With everything we have.
“I figured that you’re worried about the money. And we don’t have much, that’s to be sure. But me and your grandaddy have a little bit saved. Enough to help you out a little. It won’t cover everything, but it’ll help.” All those overnight shifts. All those weekends when she couldn’t sleep. Granny was worried too. She never left me to fend for myself.
Granny pulls me to her again and speaks impossibly gently into my hair.
“I just want you to know that you can rest, Lizzie, baby.” She kisses the top of my head softly. “I got you when you’re ready to rest.”
The last week before prom is surprisingly calm. The hallways carry the type of buzz that only an event of this magnitude could possibly generate, but things feel less tense somehow. Less scary.
I’m still terrified about not getting the money, of course. But now that the dust has settled and Rachel has been kicked out of the running for prom court, I don’t have to look over my shoulder every ten minutes. The votes were cast this morning during homeroom, so now all that’s left is for us to wait.
“I’m just saying, I think we should throw out the idea of a limo altogether,” Britt says through a mouthful of dessert. Gabi’s mom sent her to lunch with a Tupperware container full of vegan cherry-and-almond brownies that we’re well on our way to completely devouring. It’s the fifth dessert this week. “Let’s just take my Prius to prom! Think about it. We’re down for making statements now that Liz has paved the way. We should be talking about the environment!”
“I feel like we might need more drama than that.” I tap my chin like I’m deep in thought. “Why not ride in on a tank to protest the military-industrial complex?”
“Now you’re onto something!” Britt slaps the table.
We’re all riding together, like we’d always planned, but something feels off. After everything, I’d sort of thought that me and Amanda would make it work and go as a couple. It was a far-fetched idea, I know, considering the rules. But I couldn’t stop myself from hoping.
It will be fine. I’m going to go to prom with my best friends and keep working on this cool new platonic relationship I have going with Amanda. It’s cool. I’m cool with being friends with her. The whole thing is very chill.
Okay, I’m lying. I’m not chill at all.
I can’t stop myself from cutting eyes over to her desk in AP World History, hoping that I can catch her attention so we can share a laugh about our teacher’s habit of wearing pants that ride too low in the back and show off his butt crack. I still spend an obnoxious amount of time waiting for her to text me back or wondering if I should text her first or wanting to ask what she thinks about the newest Kittredge single. I am so freaking gone over this girl I don’t know what to do.
“Whatever we do, I might have to do it in my birthday suit, since somebody”—I toss a grape in Gabi’s direction and laugh as she dodges it—“finished everyone else’s dresses but mine.”
In the whirlwind of everything: me and Gabi fighting and not speaking, me being outed, and Robbie getting sick—Gabi ran out of time to finish the dress she was making for me. Although it was less formal than I would’ve liked, I was okay with wearing the dress she made me for homecoming last year instead. I never got to wear it because I backed out of going to the dance at the last minute. The night of, my anxiety about being seen all dressed up like that just got to be too much. That feels like a lifetime ago now.
The freshmen at the table next to us are whipping out their phones, so I turn my head toward the cafeteria entrance. And when I do, I swear I can feel every hair on my arm stand up. Because Teela Freaking Conrad is playing an acoustic guitar, singing my favorite song, and walking toward me.