The Love Story (The Things We Can't Change Book 4) (27 page)

Evangeline

111

Twinkle lights sparkle far above me. To my left, a freshman couple is dancing, looking blissfully happy in each other’s arms. I wanted Zeke and me to end up like that, for tonight at the very least. But things don’t always turn out the way you want.

Still, as I turn in a slow circle and take in the decorated room, the lights above us and all around, the magic feeling in the air and the couples laughing and smiling and having a good time all around me, I am pleased. I’m pleased by all our hard work and the part I played in it.

For a moment, I relive every bad memory of this place. Every dark look from Tony, every rough touch from him, the slapping outside the building and the attack from him in the bathroom. But then I am back in the present, watching the disco ball above me and seeing Jenny across the room and Koby coming toward me, smiling, and it all feels good and right. A new beginning, something fresh and clean and new to eclipse all the old. This will never be my favorite place, but it no longer fills me with fear and ugliness. It’s been purged and its demons laid to rest.

I wonder, idly, what prom will be like and if anyone on the committee has come up with a theme yet.

As forsworn, Jenny and I met earlier in the morning. We’d gotten coffee and then sped to our appointments for hair, makeup, and nails. I had tried to inject some enthusiasm into everything and I think I succeeded for the most part. I
was
excited for the dance. I was excited to see the fruits of our hard work and I knew Jenny would be at my side all evening. Besides, how can you stay melancholy when people are rubbing your hair and feet and gushing about how beautiful you are?

Jenny had gotten her hair curled and then pulled back into an elegant pony tail-thing high up on the crown of her head. We’d joked endlessly about this being the first time in our lives that her hair was longer than my own. My own hair was still down, curled and volumized into a sassy Shirley-Temple cloud of curls around my head that I could never have achieved when it was long and heavy.

Jenny and I had then carted our dresses to the country club and met everyone else there two hours early for the final preparations before changing in the locker rooms. As we had changed and chatted excitedly with Paula and Allison, I realized that in the course of the past two weeks, I had found more friends. The people on the dance committee didn’t ask me about Tony or Zeke anymore. I realized I actually liked my place there and I knew I would stay in it for the rest of the year.

When we’d left the locker room—Jenny in a gray silk dress that made her eyes look darker and her hair like gold, me in a white and gold fluffy number that made me feel vaguely princess-like—the dance was already starting.

And now here we are, two hours into it, and I’m standing at the edge of the dance floor, watching other people dance. It’s all right, though. I’ve danced at enough weddings and parties in this place to last me for a while and Jenny and I have gone out for a couple faster songs together already. I realize that even though I want Zeke here at my side more than I’ve ever wanted anything else in the world, I am content in this moment. Maybe not blissfully happy, but content. Even without Zeke at my side. I would be happier with him, but I know I can survive without him.

Koby reaches me as the music changes and the big bass speakers come to life with a vengeance. All the people who came stag, mostly groups of girls who are giggling and laughing or boys pretending to be aloof, scurry to the dance floor for the faster song.

“Hey,” he says. It’s the first time we’ve really had a chance to talk about anything that doesn’t involve twinkle lights or tulle or photo backdrops. He won’t come near me if Jenny is at my side. I’m a little disappointed that in all this time together, they still haven’t seemed to patch things up. “This looks really great, Evie. We really pulled it together.”

I grin up at him, because it’s hard not to smile when Koby is around. “We left our mark on things, just like you wanted. A pretty big mark, too. Mr. Riordan says they’re going to hold onto the backdrop and maybe even display it somewhere in the school.”

My smile falters a little bit despite myself. The backdrop makes me think inevitably of Zeke, and no good can come of that. I don’t know what I’ll do on Monday at school.

Deal with it when it happens,
I tell myself.
Regardless of
what
happens, you’ll get through it. You’re strong enough now.

“Hey.” Koby nudges me with an elbow. “Zeke will come around. He’s just a stubborn asshole sometimes. He’s been weird lately. But trust me. Let what you love free and if it’s meant to be it’ll come back and all that. He really will.”

“I hope so,” I say, expelling a heavy breath, trying to pull my mood up before it sinks totally down to the gutter. “And I hope it’s before we all go to college. I need a boyfriend to help me move into my dorm. Aren’t they supposed to be good for all that heavy lifting?”

Koby stares at me for a moment and then he laughs, long and loud. “You know,” he says, shaking his head. “I wish we didn’t go to a school that is totally crazy and insane. And that Tony’s parents had stayed on the East Coast with their Harvard buddies. I have a feeling we all would have been saved a lot of grief if you and Zeke had met and been able to be friends a long time ago. Dominic and I have missed out on all your jokes.”

I snort before I can help it, embarrassed and pleased all at the same time. “We’ll have to do our best to make up for lost time now,” I promise, and he laughs.

I realize, however, I don’t know how I’ll be able to sit at their lunch table now that Zeke and I are… are what? Officially broken up? Even more broken than our first break? I don’t know what we are. But I don’t want this to be the end.

I look up at Koby, ready to ask him the question that I swore I wouldn’t ask: if he’s heard from Zeke at all today. But when I look up at him, I see he’s staring at something across the room. I follow his line of sight and see he’s staring straight at Jenny. She’s on the opposite side of the dance floor from us, talking to Paula.

“And if our school wasn’t crazy and insane and we’d all become friends a long time ago, you and Jenny wouldn’t be pretending the other doesn’t exist, either,” I say slyly.

Koby rips his eyes away from Jenny and looks down at me guiltily, and then with resignation. “That might be true. Or maybe there are certain things that just aren’t meant to be.”

I’ve spent a lot of time with Koby the past few weeks and feel I know him well enough to give him advice. Or to boss him around, which is sometimes the same thing. Impulsively, as the music slows down again and the dance floor thins a little, I say, “You should ask Jenny to dance.”

Now he looks at me like I’m crazy. “No way!”

“Yes,” I say firmly. “You really should.”

He’s shaking his head as he looks at the floor. “Really, Evie. No. You don’t know what happened. There’s a lot of water under that bridge.”

“Actually,” I say gently, “I do know what happened, a little bit of it anyway. But you’ll never move on—with her or from her—if you don’t talk about it.” I watch as indecision flits across his face and I lean in closer. “Please, Koby. The two of you are miserable. It’s just… it’s just not so black and white to some of us what’s right or wrong or what we should do. It’s just a talk and a dance.”

I don’t think I can actually convince him to do it, but the next thing I know, Koby is striding across the room toward my friend. The shock on Jenny’s face is clear even from across the room. But she allows Koby to take her hand and lead her out onto the dance floor and then the two of them are dancing together. I wish I could read lips and know what they are saying, but I decide it’s private and I should leave well enough alone.

At least something good happened to one of us tonight.

“Hey, Evie.”

I whip around and am instantly convinced that I’m hallucinating. Or maybe someone spiked the punch. Or maybe… I don’t even know.

Zeke is standing behind me.

He’s actually dressed up. Dressed-for-a-homecoming-dance dressed up. Black slacks, his hair trimmed, black dress shoes and a light blue button-up shirt and a tie with a blue and black pattern. I can’t recall ever having seen him wear blue before and it throws me off completely for a moment. It’s such a soft, calming color and it makes his eyes look more like a pale gray than the deep green that I’m used to.

“So...” Zeke begins uncomfortably, and I realize I’m still staring at him, jaw agape. I can’t think of a single thing to say. “This looks really great, Evie. You guys did a really great job.”

“Thanks,” I say, wondering if I ought to be stiff and impersonal. I did just break up with him, after all. But then I wonder if him being here means what I hope it does and I can’t force myself to just brush him away.

Zeke’s eyes dart around the room and then focus again on me and I realize I can still read them just as clearly as always, which is somehow infinitely comforting in itself. Right now, he’s bracing himself.
All cards on the table, Zeke.

“Look.” He steps closer so he doesn’t have to talk so loud, but his eyes never leave my own. “I wish I could stay here and ask you to dance and give you a senior homecoming experience and everything, but I really just need to talk to you privately and somehow I think you’d rather cut straight to that. So, will you come with me?”

He extends a hand out to me and I stare down at it for a long minute. Of course I would have sprinted to the car right then and there if it was all up to me, but my responsibilities pulled at me. And maybe they masked a tiny bit of fear.

Zeke is here and he wants to talk. That doesn’t mean it will have the outcome that I want, though.

“The-the dance,” I sputter, suddenly aware that my fingers are trembling a little bit. “I have to help clean up after and-”

“We can handle clean up without you.”

I start and look over to see that Koby and Jenny have appeared right next to me, finally united for the first time, well, ever.

Koby gives me a forceful look. I can practically hear him repeating my words to him from earlier, about Jenny. He continues, “We all know you did more than everyone else for prep. You got us the club. Go home.”

“We’re good here,” Jenny adds, and actually gives me a small push toward Zeke. “Go on.”

Zeke doesn’t wait for me to protest or give in. He just takes my hand and begins to lead me from the club. He winds down the hallways with familiar ease, leading me out to the employee lot. It seems some habits die hard. I’d laughed earlier when Koby had parked here too, and he’d given me a smile and shrug and said sometimes routines were ground in too hard to fight.

It isn’t until we’re actually sitting in the car and I’m buckling my seatbelt that I realize
what
car we’re in. I turn to face Zeke, sure my jaw has gone slack again.

“This is your dad’s car.”

“Yeah,” Zeke says, and I feel the familiar urge to smack the side of his head at his nonchalant tone and ambiguous answer. Then he looks over at me and grins and I know he’s baiting me. “We, um, talked. Last night. Good talk. Went and got my stuff from Alex’s house. I’ll tell you about it, just in a bit, okay?”

And then Zeke takes my hand into his and kisses my wrist, staring in my eyes the whole time. With no fear, no balking at the purposefully emotion-filled action. His kiss ignites a fire in me, bolts of heated lightning shooting through my whole body, warming me even though I didn’t realize I was cold. I can’t think of anything to say or do, so I just allow myself the pleasure of holding his hand, of touching him once more, and lean back in my seat for the drive.

To my surprise, we end up at my own house. I give Zeke a questioning look, but he misses it as he gets out of the car and opens my door for me.

“I don’t think I said, but did you know you look amazing tonight?”

“Thank you,” I whisper, a little embarrassed but also pleased.

Then I wonder if there is a concealed ‘but’ in there.
You look amazing, but your hair is still short.
Except… no. I really think he means it. I tell myself to stop looking for hidden meanings in everything he’s saying and doing and allow Zeke to take my hand again to pull me inside the house.

He leads me down to the basement, to the room where I led him this past summer. The canvas in still leaning against the wall, covered by a sheet. I’d completely forgotten it was there after all the drama that had followed. If I’d remembered, I would have come and snuck a peek long ago.

Once he has us positioned just so in the center of the room, Zeke turns to me again at last. He’s as beautiful as ever, so tall and lean, his eyes burning bright in his dark face. Looking at him, at the face that used to scare me, I want him all over again, more than anything else in the world. I’ve always wanted him too badly for my own good.

Strong, Evie. He has to say what you
need
here, not what you want.

“Evangeline Parker,” Zeke says formally. He takes a deep breath and I see the uncertainty in his eyes. The fear. It’s so completely at odds with my confident, fearless Zeke that I fall for him even harder in that instant and I know there will be no getting over him for the rest of my life. It will be Zeke Quain for me or no one at all.