Chapter 26
Proposal
I didn’t cry. Lying in bed, I kept expecting myself to lose it. I was too frightened. I think the fear in my mind had tricked my body into believing that I was battling some life-threatening situation so it was conserving my water.
I kept checking the conversations I’d had with Tristan and found this explanation worked with every single one. Then I checked it with what Dr. Robert’s mother-in-law had told me. Where was it that Tristan wanted me to end up? Happy and in heaven. Why wouldn’t he be able to go with me? Because he didn’t think he could. It’s why she said he was pointing to where I was supposed to go. But she was right, I didn’t go. I kept asking for more time—straying off the path to heaven and into the woods. She had said that by keeping his secret he’d force me to stay on that path. And if I hadn’t discovered that my lifespan was so short then she’d have been right. I’d have just dropped dead and Tristan would have what he wanted, but that was so cold…too dishonest. You couldn’t possibly do that to someone you loved. Unless you were desperate.
There were no cracks with which to give myself reasonable doubt, so I eventually decided— to prevent myself from having a genuine anxiety attack— to wait until I could confront Tristan about it. At least that gave me something to hold on to and I felt a little better. That and the fact that I wouldn’t be seventeen for another fourteen months—heaven forbid I should die on my birthday.
Helena brought me the phone, informing me that Taylor was on the line, and then disappeared back into the hall, clearly preoccupied with tonight’s party.
“Hey Taylor,” I said, doing my best to keep the emotion out of my voice.
“Hey! I just called to see if you still wanted a ride to the game.
Relief swept cross my face. Thank goodness, a distraction.
Taylor could not believe that she still wasn’t allowed to pull up to my house, and most of the ride to the school was spent massaging her feelings. Seeing that she still felt like she wasn’t good enough, just because her parents weren’t filthy rich, made me especially glad I came. I complemented her on everything possible—to the point I thought it was obvious what I was doing—but if she realized it, she never said anything. Nor did she ask why I had missed school again.
Heathwood’s stadium was over the top. Big surprise there. It made Pelion’s high school stadium look like a practice field. There were elevators to take you up to your seats, padded cushions in the stands, and at least seven screens to watch the game if your eyes were too lazy to follow the action on the field. We had seen the fireworks as we pulled up. Plus, every person who walked through the gates was given a “Go Stingers!” poster and a program—we would have had to pay for both at my old school.
Taylor went right up to the fence that prevented the fans from running out onto the field and conversed with some of the players. She seemed to know them all, and explained that they referred to her as “Kryptonite” because although Chris was the best receiver on the team, he couldn’t catch a cold if she gave him a kiss before practice. She assured them that she hadn’t touched him at any point during the day.
Once we got to our seats, Taylor pointed out Darren. He was standing next to the coach and looked enormous compared to most of the players on the team. He wore a yellow number twelve on his black jersey and even his ruffled blonde hair seemed to match.
It was impossible not to catch some of Taylor’s enthusiasm once the game began. She was up on her feet for every play, never remaining seated for any ten consecutive seconds at any point during the first half. When she wasn’t shouting at the team to “make a play,” she was leaning over to explain something to me. I was having particular difficulty with why we were so excited to move the ball all of six inches. She shook her head and laughed that we had gotten a “first down.” Whatever that meant.
It wasn’t until the game broke for halftime that I saw the fruit of my running out of the pep rally yesterday. A group of girls beside the concession stand was making no efforts to conceal the fact that they were laughing at my expense. Taylor said to ignore them but it was difficult to keep my cool when I kept hearing “hit and run victim” being whispered every time we passed a large group of students. I realized now what had been made of my disappearing act. They thought Darren had used me for easy sex and then disowned me. Of course they did. This was high school.
Feeling down, I followed Taylor around like a lost puppy. Apparently, my missing days had given her the initiative to go out and make some more friends. And although she insisted that I was still her “bestie,” it was clear her outgoing personality had won over a great many people in my absence. We could hardly take a step without someone shouting “Tay!” or “Hey Taylor!” or “Kryptonizzle!” It was seriously hard to believe that this was the same girl in the cowboy hat at the beginning of the week.
Taylor spent the remainder of halftime teaching me everything she knew about football. I had a sneaking suspicion that my constant questions might be ruining her fun. So, as I watched the second half with a fairly basic understanding of football— I still had no I idea what half the penalties meant— I came to understand that Darren was amazing. Taylor had said that they would probably throw the ball more, since they were losing, and boy could he throw it. He could get the ball past the two and three guys smothering Chris on almost every play, and by the time the game clock showed five seconds left, we had come back to within four points of the other team. Unfortunately, they were a long way from the end zone.
I leaned over to Taylor. “Can Darren throw that far?”
“Oh yeah, he has an NFL arm. He’s already got a letter from the University of Texas and like twelve other schools wanting him to go there. We’re doing an interview after the game to ask him about it. It’ll air during first period on Monday. It’ll be an amazing story if we could win this game somehow.”
However, she didn’t look confident. Neither did anyone else. It was silent in the stadium as they lined up. Then, Darren was running around with the ball as the other team tried to tackle him. He was doing well until one really big guy blasted him from behind. Luckily, he was able to throw the ball first, and it seemed to stay in the air forever. I saw Chris and three of the opposite team’s players jump for it in the end zone and come down in a pile. Two referees ran over to the fallen players. Taylor closed her eyes and said, “Oh gosh Christopher, please tell me you caught that…”
The referees held up their hands. The people in the stands went crazy. I would have too, if Taylor hadn’t immediately turned around and said, “I could literally die right now!” That brought me right back to that cabin, and suddenly I felt sick.
I kept telling myself that it was far off still. Fourteen months, probably longer. And there was always the chance that Tristan could deny it, that there was some other explanation that fit perfectly too. It seemed like a long shot even for my mustard seeds of hope.
Darren’s blaring voice came booming across the loud speaker. Kevin from my literature class was holding up a microphone.
“Yeah, it was a great win. It wasn’t our best performance by any stretch, but we played as a team and that’s what made the difference. But I don’t wanna hog up the microphone, all these guys deserve a chance to speak. Before I go though, I wanna dedicate that last throw to my favorite girl in the world, Anastasia Adams. Goodnight everybody.”
I swear it was a full minute before I could breathe again.
Taylor insisted I join the other girlfriends in the tunnel leading back to the locker rooms. It was hard not to smile when I saw some of those same girls from before stare at me opened mouthed. Chris came out first and Taylor ran over and jumped into his arms, pulling his head forward into a long, passionate kiss. They had certainly come a long way in a short period of time.
Darren had come out last and flush
ed red when he saw me. I just kind of stood there.
“I’m sorry about what I said,” he started. “I just didn’t like some of the rumors that were going around. I thought it might make things easier for you. Not too mad are you?”
“No, not at all. I figured that’s what you were doing. Thanks.” I was certainly getting better at lying to him. At least the part about not being angry had been honest.
“Oh, well thank goodness,” he grinned. “I thought you were about to lay into me just now.”
I found myself smiling. “Yeah, because we both know I could beat you in a fight.”
“Well, if you fight as good as you break hearts…”
That hurt. “Darren… that’s not fair.”
He smiled. “All’s fair in love and war.”
He had a point.
“Hello, fellow lovebirds,” said a feverishly love-drunk Taylor pulling Chris behind her. “We’re going to celebrate with some of the guys at Applebee’s, you coming?”
“Oh no, can’t, we signed up for community service tonight,” Darren said quickly.
I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I totally forgot until he just reminded me.”
“How ‘bout you, Chris?” Darren asked. “Didn’t you sign up too?”
Chris still seemed to be suffering from that delirious high that comes from being in love, so he couldn’t keep up a straight face when he attempted to keep the lie going. Taylor began to look suspicious. Finally, he was able to manage, “Nah, think I’m skipping community service this time.” He mouthed a “sorry” to me behind Taylor’s back.
Taylor wasn’t buying it; luckily, her hormones had her mind pointed in another direction. “Community service, huh? Well, make sure you use protection while you’re servicing your community!” A car full of screaming students came by shouting “Go Stingers!” and Taylor and Chris went running after them.
“Guess you need a ride to the party,” Darren said.
“Yeah,” I agreed, blushing as hard as I could ever remember blushing in my entire life. I was thankful he had decided not to address the “going to have sex” assumption Taylor made.
Just as we got into his BMW, Darren’s grandmother called his cell phone. I watched him talking and found myself thinking more and more about what Taylor had suggested. Immediately, images of Tristan stormed into my mind, battling the impulse I felt to act. Surprisingly, those thoughts brought up anger. “He was going to let me just drop dead?” I thought. “Just so I wouldn’t be able to do the spell again? Damn him.” Already weakened by my own hormones, those thoughts sent whatever loyalties I felt to Tristan whimpering away. I had turned away a boy who had done nothing but want me, protect me, and help me. For him. I was furious now. What he tried to do was unforgivable. If I only had months to live, then I would make the most of them.
When he hung up the phone, I went for it.
I slid quickly over to his side, and sat on his legs, facing him. If he had looked surprised to see me outside the locker room, it was nothing to the shock on his face now. I pressed my lips onto his and he didn’t fight me. He wrapped his arms around me and I felt like my body was on fire. I was still fairly new to kissing, especially this kind, so I let him begin to kiss me instead. I could feel his enthusiasm through his kiss and it was like a match to my own. I let my hands slip under his shirt and explore his chest.
As amazing as it felt, I knew it was only the first step. It began to fully dawn on me what I was about to do. Doubt sprang up inside me. Was I ready for this? Just as I began to pull away, a voice spoke inside my head. “What are you saving it for? You’ve only got months to live, so live.”
I stopped kissing him and let my hands drop to his belt. I had barely touched the buckle before he had seized my arms.
“What are you doing? I thought you just wanted to make out? We are not doing that.”
My passion melted back into anger. “Darren, don’t you dare reject me right now. I want this and I want this with you.”
“Ana, no. Not with you. Not like this.”
Not with me? That had hurt more than anything he had said to me. “What’s wrong with me? I mean, you could have sex with all of those other girls, but not with me? I thought you wanted me—you said you did. You don’t have to put on an act for me anymore. I want you just as much as you want me, so it’s okay.”
I stared into his eyes and could see the anger building. He opened the car door and pulled himself from under me. He walked to the end of the parking lot, kicking whatever was in his path; meanwhile, I sat in the front seat of his car, wondering if I’d just ruined our friendship. I’d calmed down enough to think with a level head now and could hardly believe the last few minutes had actually happened. When he came back, he still looked angry but he spoke in a quiet voice.
“Ana, I understand why you were so uncomfortable around me before. If you thought that all of this was just some act, then I don’t blame you for wanting to stop things. But it’s not Ana.” He sat down in the car again and all traces of his anger disappeared. “Let me explain. You weren’t here then, but my grandpa was a man everyone respected. He was the guy people turned to when something happened. I used to look up to him so much. But I was always such a disappointment to him. I used to feel like deep down he was ashamed of me, and he had a right to be. All I cared about was getting in girl’s pants, showing off how rich I was to everyone who wasn’t, and being the cool guy everybody wanted to hang with. When he died, I kept waiting to just wake up one day and be the man that he was, like it was some overnight thing. After a while I realized that I had to make a change. I tried a couple times, but it never lasted.
“When I met you, you were so different and I found myself liking you. Not the way you looked in a pair of skinny jeans, and not because I knew you would give it up if I took you out a couple of times. You made me laugh, you called me on my bullshit—you reminded me of him. I decided that here’s this wicked cool girl that I have to be right for, I have to be a man for, because you are worthy of that. And that’s why I’ve been working so hard to change, Ana. I do want you, but not like this. You deserve better and I’m gonna make sure you have it.”
He dropped down to one knee, pulled out a Heathwood Academy Stinger Sticker, and folded it into a ring. “Will you, Anastasia Adams, give me another shot with you?” He was giving me that easy smile of his.
For the first time in my life, I understood how those girls on television could be so speechless when a guy proposed to them. I’d always thought I was too cool for that, that I would just give a casual nod and say “sure, why not?” but as I looked at him (and this was no marriage proposal) I could only nod and wipe my eyes—the words wouldn’t come.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I’d be dead soon.