Magic Hour, page 11
Not by a long shot.
CHAPTER 16
It may have normally been tradition for the guy to pick up the girl on prom night, but Chloe drove to my house and even arrived an hour early so we could watch the season finale of The Masked Singer. The month of April had come and gone, with only rehearsals for Hairspray and a few overlong glances at Donavin to show for it, and senior prom, which for most of my life always seemed light years away, had finally arrived.
When the episode ended, Chloe and I sneaked a shot of tequila before my mom walked in, a tiny Samsung camera in her hands. “Chloe, wow,” she said.
Chloe wore a tight-fitted gold dress, and her curly ginger hair flowed all the way down her back.
“Wow is right,” I said. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks, Henry.” She smiled and pushed her hands against my chest. For a second I thought she was going to kiss me.
My mom took some pictures of us standing next to each other. We did our best to look like a happy couple. “She’s definitely a lot prettier than your last prom date, Henry.”
My jaw dropped at that one. “Ouch, Mom. Low blow!"
She chuckled and lowered the camera. “You know I’m kidding.” She leaned her head back and shouted, “Wally, get out here!”
I sighed, annoyed. My dad had been typing away in his office all day, already hard at work on his latest manuscript. “No, no, Mom. It’s okay. I’m sure he’s busy. We have to get going, anyway—”
“Wally Crest!” she screamed. “Get out here right now, or you’re in the doghouse for a month, mister!”
That did it. The office door slammed shut, and my dad appeared, his eyes bloodshot, his hair stringy and sticking up toward the ceiling. He wasn’t in his pajamas, thankfully, but as soon as he found the entryway, I was able to smell the sweat emanating from his semi-damp t-shirt.
“Been working hard, Dad?” I asked.
“You have no idea," he said. "Seven thousand words today. Just broke my all-time record.” He blinked, swallowed, then blinked again; he looked high on crack.
“That’s great. Wow.” I glanced at Mom, who was more annoyed than proud about my dad’s hardcore work ethic. “You gonna tell us what the new book’s about? You’ve been so secretive about it.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t really know what it is yet. We’ll see.” He nodded at Chloe and put his arms out to hug her. “Chloe, so nice to see you. It's been a while.”
She smiled politely but jumped back a step; she didn’t want to get anywhere near his sweat. “Nice to see you, too, Mr. Crest.”
“And my boy, look at you.” He put his hand on my shoulder. I let him. “When the hell did you grow up? I still remember when you were five years old running around the house naked except for my cape and top hat. You remember that?”
I tried to ignore Chloe’s unavoidable giggle. “Yeah, Dad, we can keep that memory between us if that's all right.”
He laughed. “If you say so. Have fun tonight, okay?” And with that he headed back to his office. I was enjoying the rare one-on-one with my dad so much I hated that it had to end so soon. I barely had a chance to say goodnight before he turned the corner and shut his office door.
My mom snapped a few more pictures of us, but I was having trouble smiling. “Is he okay, Mom? Just sitting in there all day staring at a computer screen? At his age?”
She set the camera down. “Your father’s been on this writing kick for a while now, but he says he’s going to start slowing down and focus on two books a year instead of his usual ten. He promised me he’ll take a break after his new book is done.”
“Oh. Well, that's good." I crossed my arms and peered down the hall. "He’s so invested in this one. What do you think it’s about?”
She shrugged. “I have no idea. I hope it’s a novel. If I have to look at another how-to magic book, I think I might scream.”
I laughed and guided Chloe to the front door. “All right, we're off. Bye, Mom!”
“Have fun, you two! Love you, Henry!”
“Love you, too, Mom!”
We stepped outside under the early evening stars. I opened the passenger door for Chloe, then hopped into the driver’s seat. I stuck my key in the ignition but didn't start up the car; instead, we sat in silence.
“We can have fun tonight, Henry,” Chloe finally said a moment later. “We can have a good time. If you just forget about Donavin for one night. The same way I’m gonna forget about Maberly.”
I bit down on my bottom lip and took her hand in mine. “I’m going to try. Maybe they won’t come. Maybe they’ll stay home and discuss baby names.”
“Yeah. One can hope.” She turned toward the dashboard and looked out at the setting sun. “You ready?”
“I’m ready.”
I turned on the ignition as Chloe grabbed her mask from the back seat. She placed it over her face and gazed at herself in the rearview mirror. “Under the right light, I could be anybody.”
I flashed my mask across my face. “That’s right. Tonight… we can be anyone we want to be.”
I pulled out of the driveway and headed toward Foster Drive. We were two miles from our senior prom.
Just two short miles from the Magical Masquerade.
#
Last year’s prom was held at the Reno Convention Center in a huge arena-like ballroom, but this year it had been relocated to the relatively small Juniper High gymnasium. It seemed a disappointing step down, but my doubts were erased when I pulled up to the parking lot and saw the impressive gym exterior, with its two spotlights beaming against a long red carpet and a thirty-foot tall mask draped over the entrance.
Chloe grabbed our large masquerade masks, I locked the car, and we walked toward the front of the building. One of the science teachers tore our tickets, and then we headed inside.
The hallway past the entrance was so dark I thought we had stumbled into a haunted house. “Chloe, did we go the right way?”
“Yeah, just follow me!” She was only a few steps ahead of me, but she sounded a mile away.
“Is someone gonna pop out? You know how much I hate horror movies!” I listened for her voice. Nothing. “Chloe, where are you? You better answer me or I’ll—”
“Boo!” Chloe screamed, jumping out at me from the right. I promptly bellowed a scream so wildly high-pitched even I had to laugh a few seconds later. She grabbed my hand and pulled me through the final curtain into the gym.
The size of the crowd wasn’t astonishing, but it was a solid turnout, with most of the students already on the dance floor. I expected more to be on the sidelines trying to summon up courage to take their boy or girl out for a twirl, but then I remembered—the masquerade masks. They gave a cool, macabre vibe to the event, and, more importantly, allowed everyone something to hide behind.
“Do you want to get something to drink?” Chloe asked, keeping her hand clasped onto mine like she didn’t want to let me go for the remainder of the night.
I didn’t answer her right away. I admired her dress again, then looked at her face. It was hard to see her under the mask, a delicate design of red fabric and ant-sized yellow jewels that brought out her green eyes but covered most of her features. I’d gone with something simple—a white mask with heavy black silk around the eye cutouts. Hers was the more memorable, while mine was the more mysterious.
“Do they have an open bar?” I asked with a wink.
“Very funny. I was thinking water, actually.” She finally let go of my hand and stepped away from me. “Do you want me to get you anything?”
“No, I’m good. I’ll… you know… mingle.”
“Yeah, you do that.”
She wandered around the circular tables, pushed through a large group of boys, and disappeared behind the giant music speakers, which were blasting “Blinding Lights” by The Weeknd. I pushed my fingers against the sides of my masquerade mask, made sure it was secure, and started roaming the room. Some of the other masks only covered upper halves of faces, allowing me to recognize Katie, Scott, Will—plus Sam, who was guzzling a huge cup of punch. He said hi to me and gave me a cute little wave. I waved right back.
But I didn’t say hello. Someone else stole my attention like he always did.
I wanted to stay true to Chloe’s wishes. I wanted to forget him. Wanted to forget both of them.
I sighed. “Who am I kidding?”
I hovered back behind one of the tables as Donavin and Maberly walked in my direction, neither one recognizing me. Even though Maberly’s masquerade mask covered her whole face, I knew it was her because of the confident way she carried herself. Donavin’s mask only covered his eyes and forehead, and it made him look ever sexier. It was dark blue, which perfectly complimented his lengthy blond locks. When Maberly stopped to say hi to a friend, he turned toward me, an expression on his face that only could have been described as bored. He didn’t want to be here, at least not with her; I saw it in the way he tapped his fingers against his chest, and the way he licked his full-bodied lips, like it’d been forever since someone had given him a real kiss.
Was I melting? My face got all hot, and I suddenly needed water like Chloe. As Donavin moved around the tables, not having a clue he was within five yards of me, I wanted to throw myself at him. I would have if he had been closer. I no longer cared about the consequences.
I took a step forward. Then another. He didn’t budge. He was looking in my direction, but he didn’t see me yet—at least, I didn’t think he did. He took his phone out of his pocket and started texting somebody. I waited for my phone to light up, but it didn’t. Maberly was still turned around, chatting up a friend.
I took one more step and shoved my hands into my pockets. I tried not to look creepy and stalker-ish standing in the dark all by myself.
“Hi, Donavin,” I finally said.
He stopped in mid-text and looked up from his phone. He squinted his eyes as he surveyed the tables in front of him. “Who said that?”
“It’s me. It’s—”
“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” Chloe’s voice caught me off guard from my right. Could her timing have been any worse? I was relieved I had the mask on, or she might have seen my scowl. "Where the hell have you been?"
I stepped away from Donavin and said to her, quietly, “Just... you know... wandering. Where have you been?”
“I got you some punch, duh. Here.”
She didn’t so much hand it over as let it go and hope I would catch it. If the cup had been half full, there might not have been a problem. But as soon as it touched my hand, a sip-full of the blood-colored punch swirled out of the cup and splashed against the top of my tux.
“What! Chloe!” It all happened so fast, with no warning.
“What’d you do?” she asked.
“What’d I do?” I found a napkin on the nearest table and blotted it against my suit. “Did you have to the fill it to the very top? Like, was that absolutely necessary?”
She got closer and analyzed my stain. “Henry, it’s fine. It’s so dark in here you can’t even see it.” She took a gulp from her cup, which contained water, not the goopy punch.
I took a sip of the mystery drink, with hesitation—it smelled like rotten cherries and tasted like expired wine. Donavin was out on the dance floor with Maberly now, John Legend’s “Conversations in the Dark” blasting overhead. She had her arms around his waist, her head resting against his shoulder. He kept his hands on her hips, like the two of them were back in seventh grade and didn’t know where to put what. I looked away. I wanted to be Maberly, just for that one song. Just for one, magical minute.
“You okay?” Chloe asked after she caught me staring at Donavin.
“I’m fine.”
More silence. Then: “Do you want to dance?”
The song was still going, and Donavin was still swaying back and forth on the dance floor, flashing his sweet smile, living his lie.
I couldn’t do it anymore.
I rubbed my hand against the stain on my tuxedo again and said, “Sorry, I gotta do something about this, or it's gonna ruin my night. I’ll be right back, okay?”
I set the cup on the table and headed down the left side of the gym. I heard Chloe say, “Henry, it’s fine, nobody’ll notice,” but her voice dissolved into the hundred voices surrounding me. I looked back one more time at the dance floor. Donavin was facing me. All he had to do was look up.
But he didn’t glance in my direction; instead, he kept his gaze on his luminous bride-to-be.
I stumbled to the back of the gym, searching not so much for a bathroom but for a way out; the place seemed so claustrophobic without doors, without windows. I finally found a curtain, which led into the school’s east hallway. A few scattered couples were standing around talking, but it was relatively empty. I hadn’t had a class on that side of the building since I was a sophomore, so I was disoriented for a second until I remembered the semi-hidden bathroom next to the administrative office.
I kicked open the door and peered inside; it was pitch black. Where did they want us to go to the bathroom? On the dance floor? Was there a Port-a-Potty by the punch bowl I didn’t know about? It took me a few seconds, but I found the light switch and headed inside.
I stepped in front of the nearest mirror and inspected my tuxedo stain. It was worse than I thought. Chloe was wrong in thinking it was nothing to worry about—the stain ran from my shoulder all the way down to my elbow. I grabbed five paper towels, ran some warm water underneath, and patted them against the stain. I grabbed three more and repeated, this time without the water. It wasn’t helping. It seemed to be making the problem worse.
“Shit,” I said. I threw the paper towels in the nearest trashcan. My love, my infatuation, my desire for Donavin—it was all-encompassing. My wrists touched the sink, and so did my forehead. I hunched over in silence and fought back my tears.
When the bathroom door flew open so loud and unexpectedly, I nearly struck my head against the towel dispenser. I turned on the faucet to pretend like I was doing something, trying to appear nonchalant, like I wasn’t on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I grabbed one more paper towel, wiped my hands, and turned to leave.
But then I stopped. For a few seconds I forgot to breathe.
Donavin entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him.
CHAPTER 17
Donavin pulled down his zipper.
I tried not to let my imagination run wild, but it did; I’d imagined a situation just like this since the first day I laid eyes on him, even when he was a total dork back in the ninth grade.
Unfortunately, it appeared he hadn’t followed me in. He just needed to pee.
When he finished, he turned to the sink, then flashed me his famous grin. “Oh, hey,” he said. “I didn't recognize you.” He ran his hands under the faucet. When I didn’t respond right away, he added, “You know… with the mask.”
I grabbed another dry paper towel—I had used up an entire roll by that point—and wiped it against my embarrassing stain. “Uhh, yeah. Exactly. You can’t recognize anybody tonight.” I tried to act casual, tried to seem like I wasn't so desperately pining after him behind my dopey smile. “Chloe spilled punch all over my tuxedo. I’ve been trying to get the stain out.”
He glanced at my suit. “I’m sorry. Any luck?”
“None.”
“Here, let me see.” He stepped toward me and moved his face really close to mine—and I hadn't even asked him to. “Where’s the stain?”
I opened my mouth and tried to formulate words. I was too stunned to think. Finally: “It’s, uhh… on my right shoulder.”
“Okay, I see it.” He pulled a paper towel from the dispenser, wet it down, and dropped a small glob of pink soap on it. He ran his fingers along the paper, making for a creamy white foam, and started blotting it against my stain.
I did my best not to look him in the eye. He hovered so close to me I was able to take a sensational whiff of his minty breath.
“Let’s just apply that for a sec,” he said, bringing his eyes and lips closer to mine. His left hand stayed firm against my shoulder, but his right hand, which had been shoved into his back pocket, noticeably made its way to my chest.
I was naïve in thinking Donavin only wanted to make my wardrobe stain free, and as soon as his forehead touched mine, I knew there was something else going on. I didn’t know whether to cry in shame or smile in victory.
It was here. It was happening.
“What are you doing?” I asked. I noticed when I brought my hands to his sides that he was the one shaking.
“I’ve…” He hesitated for what felt like a full minute. “I’ve missed you, Henry.”
I wanted to go with it, not think or contemplate; I wanted to enjoy the moment for what it was.
But I couldn’t. As his lips brushed against mine, I moved away from him and pushed my back against the wall.
“What is it?” Donavin said.
“What is it? Are you serious?” I turned to my left and leaned against the only window in the room. “You should get back to Maberly.”
He stayed silent for a moment. Then: “I… I don’t understand you, Henry. Every time I pass you in the hall, every time I look at you, you’re staring at me. You like me. Why are you sending me all these mixed messages—”
I spun back around. “You are getting married, Donavin!” I screamed it, so loud he took a step back. “You’re getting married to Maberly!”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“And she’s pregnant! This isn’t how you treat the woman you’re about to marry. Even if you’re still confused about what you want. Even if I still love you.” It just came out, I couldn’t help it.
Donavin sighed and stepped closer to me. Peered into my eyes deeply. I would've paid thousands of dollars to know exactly what he was thinking. “I knew it,” he said so matter-of-factly. “You love me.”
“No… I mean…” I didn’t know what he was going to do. Hit me, ravish me, storm out of the bathroom in a huff. “I loved the idea of you. Before everything changed. We had that night in L.A. and that was amazing, but—”
