Authors: Ted Michael
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Epilogue
We shall find peace. We shall hear angels, we shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds.
—
Anton Chekhov
In the end, Tommy got his article and the Diamonds got their due. After Mr. Townsen and Principal Newman read the exposé, Clarissa, Lili, and Priya were given a two-week suspension that went on their permanent records.
1
The Diamonds were removed from the mock trial team, and Lili was impeached from student government. Jed was given back his old position in a unanimous vote by the executive board. As it turned out, Mr. Townsen was the faculty member who had nominated me for Snow Court. Apparently, our little after-school chat
had
left an impression on him.
That night, at the dance, Jenny was elected queen and Anderson was elected king. (I later discovered that according to the actual votes, Clarissa should have won. There happened to be some pesky little rule about the Ice Queen having to
not
be suspended, however, and Jenny was the first runner-up.) When Jenny's name was called, she rejected the crown, saying that she would never want to share recognition with such a pig. Then she pointed at Anderson and laughed.
For better or for worse, Bennington went without an official Snow Queen. And much to everyone's surprise, no one died or anything.
A few days after the pep rally, Darcy and Jed were an official “couple.” I was happy for them. Really.
Monique bleached her mustache and started dating a sophomore named Terry, who was really into computers. Turbo still went by Turbo and skated in the student parking lot after school, but now, whenever I saw him, I would stop to chat about pending college acceptances and wheelies. We still skate together at least once a week.
Boyd was cast as a lead in Bennington's spring musical,
West Side Story
, and I was thrilled for him.
Tommy continued as editor-in-chief of the
Bennington Press
but reverted to once-a-month issues, leaving him time to, you know, have a life. We eat lunch together every day.
As for me, well, there were best friends lost and gained, lessons about the Constitution learned, tyranny, betrayal, heartbreak, a student revolution, and last but not least, fleeting moments of true love.
Just before vacation I got my art project back. I'd spent hours agonizing over the drawing and the (imperfect) way I had sketched Anderson's features. (Donaldson apparently realized I had no place in an AP Visual Art class and gave me a C+, which I totally deserved.)
I thought about ripping it into a million pieces or feeding it to my father's paper shredder, but ultimately I sat down, drawing in hand, and went back to work. Sometimes you simply need a little perspective to make things shine. And while the original portrait might have been incredibly mediocre, now, with the additions of my past few months at Bennington, of mock trial and the Diamonds and the Stonecutters, I've turned my assignment into a true work of art.
•
EXHIBIT R
•
I remember a conversation I had with Anderson just before Christmas. After the pep rally, we basically stopped talking. There was no huge fight. No big scene. One day we were together, and the next we were not.
I'd switched my seat in art class and perfected a routine of avoiding him at school, but one day over winter break—it was a Tuesday, and I was wearing a thick scarf and a leather jacket—we were alone together in the parking lot of Dunkin’ Donuts. This was the second time such a moment had existed in the universe.
I had blindly parked my car next to his. As I went to open the door, keys and coffee in hand, he was suddenly only inches away.
“Hey,” he said. Already his voice was foreign to me. “How are you?”
“Fine.” The air nipped my cheeks, and my ears burned from the cold. I didn't return the question.
Anderson looked better than ever. I'd heard he was still with Clarissa, but I didn't know for sure. He'd also been accepted early decision to Wesleyan. Despite numerous attempts by the Stonecutters, he was never formally punished by the Bennington administration.
Anderson flipped up the sheepskin collar of his jacket. Behind him, twinkling holiday lights of red, green, and white were strewn across the storefronts. “You know, Marni, I'm really sorry about how things worked out. It probably doesn't seem that way, but I am.”
I had envisioned this conversation a million different times in a thousand different ways, and suddenly, now that we were having it, all I wanted was for it to be over. What can you possibly say to the person who opened your heart to feelings you never knew existed, only to take them all away?
I still had no idea why Anderson had betrayed me and gone back to Clarissa, why he'd betrayed the Stonecutters and (potentially) ruined our chances for success when he'd seemingly believed our cause was just. Had it all been a game?
“Marni? Did you hear me? I said I was sorry.”
“Yeah, well, I'm sorry, too.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I don't know what I did wrong, Anderson, but obviously I was never good enough for you.”
“That's not true.”
“I thought we had something incredible,” I said.
“We did.”
“I thought we were meant for each other.”
No response.
“Why couldn't you have just told me you were unhappy?”
Anderson's face was blank except for his eyes, which were an icy blue. “I tried.”
“When? When did you try?”
“That night. In your backyard. It wasn't you, Marni, it was just… everything. That's when I started seeing Clarissa again. I wanted my life to go back to the way it was.”
“But why did you have to lie?” I asked. “Why did you have to go behind my back?”
“I was scared, I guess. I never meant to hurt you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to cry. I had all my answers, so why didn't I feel any better? “You hurt me more than anyone in my entire life ever has.”
He winced. “Do you think you'll ever forgive me?”
I wanted to punch him.
I wanted to kiss him.
I couldn't do either.
I lifted the tiny plastic lid on my coffee, steam rising from the cup like a phoenix. I took one last look at him. “Goodbye, Anderson.”
Here's what I know: people enter your life for a reason. Sometimes they stay forever, I guess, but in my experience they come and go. Quickly. It's what they leave behind that counts, what stays with you once they're gone. Those are the important things.
I will never regret being friends with Clarissa and the Diamonds, because they taught me what to look for in
real
friends, like the Stonecutters; I will never regret dating Jed, because he led me to Anderson; and I will never regret my relationship with Anderson, because he showed me what it felt like to love, and be loved, and what it felt like—the raw intensity, the tears, the heartache—to be hurt. Those are things I will keep with me as I move forward to wherever it is I will go in life. Those are all treasures I will cherish and curse and ultimately, I believe, be thankful for.
This is how my story ends: Anderson left. My phone buzzed. I dug it out from my pocket. It was Tommy, wondering what was taking me so long. I smiled and clutched the phone in my hand as the noise from the parking lot sang all around me and it began to snow.
1
Lili was deferred from Yalea, while Clarissa was admitted early decision to the University of Pennsylvania.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you
Nadia Cornier, for taking such good care of me; Stephanie Lane Elliott, for making me a better writer and loving musicals as much as I do; Beverly Horowitz, Vikki Sheatsley, Jennifer Black, and the entire team at Delacorte Press for making a dream come true.
Julia Alexander, Blair Bodine, Nic Cory, Alan Honigman, Dan Kessler, Jordy Lievers, Anna Posner, Brett Schrier, Michael Stearns, Amy Shebar, and Paul Wright for their encouragement and support.
Elly Daugherty, for believing in me, and the many fantastic educators I've had the privilege of learning from.
Kate Berthold, for bringing my characters to life and never letting me go hungry.
Peter Lerman, for giving Anderson a voice and for his friendship, which taught me many things. To hear Peter's music, please visit him at
www.peterlerman.com
.
Finally, my grandparents, Arnold and Eileen Honigman, and my entire family—especially my parents, without whom life would be meaningless.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ted Michael was born in 1984 and grew up in Roslyn Heights, New York. He is a graduate of Columbia University and the Juilliard School and is a Presidential Scholar in the Arts. This is his first novel.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2009 by Ted Michael
Illustrations copyright © 2009 by Kate Berthold
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children's Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.
“Into Your Eyes” by Peter Lerman. Copyright © 2009 by Peter Lerman. All Rights Reserved. Used by Permission.
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