The Last Dance (11 page)

“He’s a senior at Columbia University in New York. Pre-med. He’s hoping to eventually intern at Johns Hopkins before setting up his residency.”

“And what’s your life plan, Ivy Ly?” One side of Q’s mouth quirked, but I could sense the true curiosity behind the question. “Are you going to go to an Ivy League college and set up your residency somewhere, too?”

I shrugged, wondering why I was telling him all this. “Something like that.” I didn’t tell him that I couldn’t decide between music, medicine or a vapor trail to Paris. I was supposed to have my plan in place by now. “But what about you?” I stared back at him. If he could ask me personal questions, I could ask him, as well. “It can’t be easy to be the star quarterback and keep up good grades. You’re taking advanced classes and almost carrying a 4.0 too.”

He adjusted his hat with his left hand and looked away for a minute. Almost as if he was afraid to admit something. “Yeah. Sometimes it is tough. It’s not like my mom and dad have ever said ‘do this’ or ‘accomplish that’ or we’ll kick you out—” he smiled at me— “but I’ve grown up with this
expectation
. Like everybody expects me to be the star quarterback—to get picked up by the Pac-12,
and
get good grades. To be Kellen Peterson.” His voice held a bitter note. “Whoever that is.” He rubbed his forehead like maybe he had a headache.

“I know exactly what you mean.” And surprisingly, I meant it. The pressure to be Ivy Ly, the symphony showcase, who would be a world-class surgeon one day was ever-present, every day. To always be taking my playing—and my life—to the next level. To
excel.

“The weirdest part?” Kellen’s face looked so honest and open. In that instant I caught a glimpse behind the ‘star quarterback’ curtain that he draped himself in and saw the young man turning the wheel to make himself appear bigger and better than real life. “Now I expect it of myself. Sometimes—” he hesitated and leaned toward me, his voice low enough that only I could hear him— “I’m afraid I’ll fail, Ivy. Fail myself. Everybody.” A shadow crossed his face. “Especially now.”

Something happened to me in that moment. It was a feeling I’d never experienced before in my entire life. It was like my heart zinged. And I’m pretty sure that empty place inside me wasn’t quite as empty any more.

“What are you two whispering about over here?” Mira swung her black sparkly messenger bag off her shoulder and swung it onto her lap as she sat down. Her hair was dyed entirely black today. It was a bit shocking, actually. Even for me, and I was used to her extreme wardrobe.

“Nothing,” I said in my most casual voice, not looking at Q. “Just some homework stuff.”

She was wearing a black and red Michael Jackson Thriller t-shirt where he looked like a zombie in mid-dance step, his hands swung up to the side like claws. She was wearing black pants, white socks and black penny loafers to complete the ensemble. Only Mira could pull it off, but I knew for a fact that she could dance Thriller to perfection, because we played the Wii dance version and she killed it every time.

“Well, I’m here to save you,” she said. “In honor of it being Thriller day—”

“It’s Thriller day?” Q asked with a puzzled look.

“Just in Mira’s world.” I reassured him.

Mira dug through her bag. “Look what I’ve got!” She pulled out an entire box of Twinkies and grinned. “Brain food!”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Kellen

I
was quiet when my mom picked me up after school to take me to physical therapy. God, were emotional info-dumps a symptom of TBI too? I couldn’t believe what I’d revealed to Ivy. Since when did I let
anyone
know I was afraid I might fail? I barely admitted it to myself.

Uncomfortable, I shifted in my seat, but there was no getting away from the truth I’d spilled. It was out there now. I leaned my head back against the head rest and sighed. Hopefully, Ivy would keep it to herself. At least she hadn’t said anything to Mira. In front me, anyway. I sighed again. What a train wreck I’d become.

My teeth pulled at my lower lip as I stared out the window and wondered what Ivy’s home life was really like. I hadn’t had enough time to ask her what she wanted to major in at college. Or where she even wanted to go to college. But I was sure she had her future mapped out as clearly as her brother’s. Surprisingly, I wanted to know the answers.

“Everything okay, honey?” My mom’s question broke up my thoughts.

“Yeah. It’s fine. I was just thinking about something Ivy said.”

“Ivy’s your tutor?”

“Yep.” I looked at the window again. We were passing the little league fields where I’d grown up playing baseball. I wondered where Ivy marked the years of her childhood. I’d heard she was a tennis player. Was it tennis courts or libraries or performing arts centers?

“Kellen, did you hear me?” My mom poked me in the arm.

I jerked my head around to look at my mom. “Huh?”

“What do you think?” We were stopped at a red light and she was giving me an expectant look.

“About what?”

“About asking Ivy over for dinner as a thank you for all her help.” The light changed and we moved forward. “It’s a tremendous sacrifice on her part to try to go to your classes and keep up with her own.”

I thought about that idea for about two seconds. Today was the first real conversation we’d had since she’d started tutoring me. “Nah, I don’t think so, Mom. We’re not exactly friends.” I readjusted my hat and looked out the window. “Yet,” I whispered to my reflection.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ivy

I
n the end, Mira decided it was too soon to ask Q to Sadie Hawkins. I had gently tried to point out that since the guy had trouble walking, I doubted he wanted to try to dance with a stranger. In combat boots. So, she asked Tank Bergstrom instead, who seemed very happy to say yes.

I asked Brandon, Shelby asked Glen Hawkins and Lily asked Ryan Larsen. We decided to all go together, which was going to be interesting. Tank was a metal head, totally into his music, Brandon was an orchestra geek, Glen was a baseball player and friends with Q, and Ryan was a granola boy but I secretly thought he was a closet pothead. I hadn’t mentioned that to Lily though. But we’d all known each other for the last four years, some of us longer, so I figured it would be fine.

The theme for Sadie Hawkin’s was “Celebrity Night.” Brandon and I decided to go as Pierce Brosnan and Renee Russo from The Thomas Crowne Affair. That way he could wear his orchestra tux and I could take another stab at wearing a fancy dress. I was pretty sure no one would recognize which celebrities we were, but it would still be fun to pretend we were
ber-rich. And Mira had a short red wig I could borrow and a ton of costume jewelry. Hopefully, no one would puke on me.

The four of us planned to get ready at The Mansion. I was the first to arrive and ran up the grand staircase to Mira’s room. She was going as Lady Gaga and Tank was going to be her lead guitarist. Hardly a stretch for either of them. Mira was sitting in front of her big white vanity, the one from Pottery Barn, putting on some outrageous makeup when I got there.

“Nice boots.” I motioned to her hot pink combat boots. She was wearing a super short dress that revealed a lot of leg. “What are you going to wear with them?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Mira said, not even pausing in her application of fake eyelashes. A hot pink lightning bolt colored one whole side of her face.

“Lucky thing you have good legs,” I said. “Tank’s going to like that outfit.”

Mira grinned at me over her shoulder. “Too bad Q’s not going to see me.”

I laughed. “Probably better he’s not. You’d probably give him a heart attack.”

Mira stuck her finger in her mouth then touched it to her hip. ‘Siiizzzzzz. Too hot to handle.”

I rolled my eyes and snorted. “Whatever.”

She shooed me with her hand. “Get your dress on. Shelby and Lily are going to be here any minute.”

I pulled my dress from the garment bag.

“Ohhhh, that’s pretty,” Mira said.

It was a dress I had worn for a few piano showcases. Black and glittering, it was tight enough to show off my slim figure, and hit me just above the knees. Plus, I had a great pair of black heels that went with it. Elegant but sexy, sort of like one of the dresses Renee Russo had worn in the movie – this one just wasn’t see-through like hers had been. Thankfully.

Shelby and Lily arrived a few moments later. Glen was going as Edgar Martinez, a retired Mariners baseball player (big surprise) so Shelby decided to dress up as a cheerleader. Somehow she’d found a real cheerleader outfit on Ebay that actually fit.

Ryan was going as John Lennon so Lily opted for Yoko, which was a little bit funny as I was the only Asian in the crowd, but she found a wig and some big glasses and the most God-awful bell bottoms.

Glen picked us up in his mom’s huge SUV so all eight of us could fit in the car.

“Scoot over,” I giggled as Lily half-sat on me and wapped me in the face with her Yoko Ono hair.

“Mira’s shoving me!” Lily laughed, her big white glasses sliding down her nose while she tried to shove back as we crammed into the far back seat. “Don’t step on my toes with those boots!”

Shelby got to ride shotgun because Glen was her date. Brandon, Ryan and Tank somehow got stuck sitting together but they managed to squeeze into the middle seat with less drama than the three of us in the back. After about ten minutes of squirming and adjusting we finally headed to the school. As we were driving out of Springwood, Glen tooted his horn at somebody on the sidewalk. I peered out the window, squinting to see through the settling dark as we drove past. I froze as I recognized broad shoulders. Was that Q?

The guy raised his left hand at Glen. It looked like he was holding a football. Did Q live around here? For a second, I thought he saw me through the glass. His head swiveled to follow the car’s passage and he seemed to be looking right at my window.

Giggles and laughter filled the car around me, for but for a second it was like I was standing alone on that corner watching the car full of laughing kids drive by. I leaned forward and pressed my nose against the glass, watching him until we turned the corner and he was out of sight.

“Ivy, what are you doing?” Mira asked.

I jerked my head back, suddenly aware of how I must look. “Nothing. I thought I saw something… weird out there.”

“Weird, like in what? A ghost?” Brandon asked.

His comment was oddly appropriate. It was like Q was a ghost of himself anymore.

But that was all it took to get the car laughing again. By the time we got to the school, I’d forgotten all about Q.

Almost.

THE NIGHT WAS nearly over and the band was taking their last break, so for the moment we could actually hear ourselves. We sat around a big circular table talking and drinking the lame lemonadey kind of punch stuff they had.

Two tables over Laurel Simmons was all over Josh Hendershot. Her hair was messed up, her lipstick was smeared and it was only by a miracle that any part of her boobs were still covered by the low cut top she kept pushing in Josh’s face. I was pretty sure they’d had more than lemons in their lemonade.

“Who do you suppose they are,” Mira whispered in my ear as she nodded in their direction. “Courtney Love and her dealer?”

I laughed under my breath. “Mrrreoww. Vicious when you want to be, aren’t you?”

“It’s not like she doesn’t deserve it.”

“Hey, did you hear about Paris?” Brandon asked, nudging me with his elbow. He really looked cute tonight, in his tux and with his hair all fashionably spiked. He had such a friendly face and easy smile. He never made me nervous.

“No.” My curiosity bubbled over. “Paris who?”

“What’s this about Paris?” Mira leaned closer. She was as Paris-crazy as I was. We daydreamed about living there one day and talked about how when we fell in love we’d put a padlock on one of the bridges as a sign of our undying love.

“Oh, that’s right,” he said, looking at me, “you weren’t there. You were gone tutoring.” There was no inflection in his words. In fact, he didn’t seem bothered by my tutoring Kellen Peterson at all. “Mr. Flynn announced on Friday that Heritage Festivals is putting on an international orchestra competition in Paris over spring break. If they can get enough kids to commit, he’ll chaperone a group of us there to compete.”

My mouth dropped open. Paris in the spring. It would be my dream come true.

WE DROPPED LILY and Ryan off first. When Glen dropped me off, Brandon got out of the car and gallantly walked me to the front porch.

“Thanks for asking me, Ivy,” he said, his arm on my elbow. “That was really fun tonight.”

“Yeah, thanks for coming.” I turned to face him. “I had a blast.” And it was true. I’d had a great time. We’d laughed all evening and even though we were all so different, the dance had been a lot of fun.

Brandon stepped onto the porch step next to me and moved closer. My heart started racing. We were standing directly under the porch light and part of my brain wondered if he was going to kiss me while the other half wondered if Mira and the guys were watching from the car.