Page 64 of The Boy Who Loved Wicked
“We’ve got time, Mom. Let’s do it.”
She thought about it, tapping the end of the photo against the table. “Okay. Okay let’s do it.” She set everything aside and stood. “I’ll call a travel agent first thing tomorrow. Now, let’s go get you ready for that prom. You can’t go smelling like you’ve been chopping wood in the sun all day, now can you?”
I brought my nose to my armpits then snapped my head back, offended by my own funk. “No, I can’t.” I’d been dressing myself and tying my own bow ties since I was five, but this was Mom telling me that she loved me, and it was enough for me.
Mom took a hundred pictures of us by the pool, on the couch, by the rose bush, and on the driveway standing in front of our waiting limo. The guys wore matching tuxedos and Theory and Jules wore champagne-colored gowns. “Mom, we’ve gotta go,” I said, laughing as we climbed into the limousine. We pulled off and Mom could be seen waving in the street until we rounded the corner.
Conversations spiked, and Theory took charge of pouring sparkling cider into flutes. Danny fidgeted with the music system with Jules’ help, and Mason and Juan discussed chess and mathematics.
“I love you guys,” I said, and all activity ceased. “Danny and Theory, you guys know me like no one ever will, and I couldn’t ask for more loyal friends. You guys got me through.” I choked up as my dad’s letter filled my mind again. “You kept your promise to him. You took care of me.”
“We took care of each other, Pheeny,” Theory said blinking. “And you’re going to make me ruin my makeup.”
I scrolled past Mason, Jules and Juan, who in such a short amount of time had become our missing pieces. I could’ve gone the rest of my life with only Danny and Theory, but me letting new people in was my way of taking care of them in return, my way of allowing them to fly without the guilt of leaving me behind. For some reason these people loved me. Phoenix, the guy who snuck in a few chapters in the middle of a party. It wasn’t my job to work out why people liked me, and it wasn’t anyone else’s job to convince me I was worthy. My only responsibility was to be true to myself and to love like tomorrow wasn’t promised. I held my fist out. “To forever.”
One by one our fists connected, and everyone repeated “forever.”
We’d never drift apart. Not if I had anything to say about it. Because I wasthe glue.
It was the day after graduation, and Mom had orchestrated a pool party at the house. I reclined on a lounge chair in my trunks reading Plato’sRepublic. Laughter and splashing could be heard under the warm afternoon sun, and Danny’s shouted “cannon ball” brought an endearing smile to my face. I hopedthatpart of him never changed.
Mason clung to the edge of the pool, kicking his feet behind him, and when I could no longer ignore his stare from over the ridge of my book, I placed it face down with a sigh, removed my t-shirt, and trudged over to him. He kept his eyes on my chest until I sat near him with my legs in the pool.
“Maybe I can spar with you one day,” he said, resting his chin on his folded arms.
“Whatever you’re doing is working,” I pointed out. Mason had always taken good care of his body.
“Maybe I just want to sweat with you,” he said tongue-in-cheek, and I dropped my chin to my chest. We’d all been accepted to different colleges. Some of us a car ride away, some a plane ride. The closer the year came to an end, signaling the end of what we’d had this year, the bolder Mason got with his flirting. “Sorry.”
“We’ll still be friends, Mason. Out of everyone, you and I will be the closest in terms of actual distance.”
“What about in other terms?”
“Mason…”
“I know, I know.” He plunged under the water, frustrated, and resurfaced seconds later treading back to our corner, clearing his eyes. “You don’t talk about him, but I know. I’ve known since the Winter Formal. The way you looked at him in that bathroom when he said he’d take you home.” He shook his head, clearing the memory. “Only love could make you hate someone that much.”
I kicked my legs under the water, saying nothing.
“What if I had found the courage to talk to you before senior year started? Could you have seen yourself with me?”
“Yes,” I said. “Of course, Mason. Of course.”
“But Clark Kent got to you first,” he joked, his gaze regretful. I had no response for him. “You’re different.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know. Wiser, if that’s at all possible.” He shrugged. “You’re still quiet and pensive, but shy no longer fits your profile. The way you move now is different too. You’re in control of your body and not the other way around. You’re more open. More sure of yourself. You were adorable before, but now you’re fuckinghot, Phoenix.”
I joined in on his laughter, leaning back on my palms. “You’ve changed too. I don’t know if you would’ve told me I was hot when we first met.”
“Yeah well, I’ve learned to not let my fear cost me an opportunity,” he said with intensity. “I paid a hefty price by doing so.”
I squinted from the burning sun and peered over to my book and sunglasses on the lounger.
“What are you reading?” he asked.
“The Republic.”
