Five Years Ago
Holly was getting ready for the first day of her senior year, trying to tame her blonde curls with a straightening iron in the bathroom she shared with Tameka. It wasn't going well. Not just because her hair was too thick for her to straighten more than a few strands at a time, but also because her hair looked more like she'd starched it than the sleek, straight strands she'd been aiming for. She groaned. It looked like she'd stuck her finger in a power socket and smelled like it too.
"Ooh, girl," Tameka said with a cough, coming into the bathroom toting her makeup bag and trying to wave off the fumes from Holly's hair. "It is time to give up with the straightening iron."
"For once," she replied, coughing, "I thought it would be nice to not to look like a frizzy-haired freak."
Tameka dropped one hip and raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest.
Holly rolled her eyes, "You know what I mean. You never look like a frizzy-haired freak."
Tameka had long ago come to terms with her course, curly hair and rocked it au natural in a short poof that she usually wore with a colorful headband to match her outfit. That morning it was an orange and black bold print to match the orange sleeveless blouse that made her dark skin seem to glow.
"That's because I know how to take care of the curls. How many times have I told you this is the enemy?" She said as she picked up Holly's brush and threw it into the trash can. "Fingers," she said, wiggling hers in demonstration, "or a wide-tooth comb if you absolutely need a plastic helper."
She grabbed her mousse from under the sink and wrenched the iron from Holly's hands. "Can you salvage it?"
"Yes, I can salvage it," she said, her eyes softening. "But you have to promise me that you'll burn the hair straightener."
Holly smiled, "I think that'd be a fire hazard, but I'll lay off it."
"Freaking finally. Jesus." Tameka replied with a smile. Sure enough, she did manage to get Holly's hairstyle looking more like loose beach waves instead of the bride of Frankenstein.
Then she picked her makeup bag back up and started patting, buffing, and contouring her face just like every time she left the house. Tameka's makeup routine always seemed more like a magic trick to Holly, who could barely apply eyeliner that looked even.
"This is going to be our year," Tameka said as she leaned forward and widened her eyes to apply her mascara. Holly didn't feel the need to comment that every year was Tameka's year; top grades, undefeated track record, not to mention a boyfriend that kissed the ground she walked on. "Senior year, Holls. This is big."
Holly rolled her eyes. "I know, T, you've only said it a dozen times in the last three days. I get it. But it's just another year to me."
"It doesn't have to be. You could try putting a different foot forward..."
She gave her friend a sidelong glance. "Why bother turning over a new leaf when nothing in the rest of the town changes?"
Tameka pressed her lips together. "If you hate things so much here, then why don't you just leave?"
Holly rolled her eyes. "I can't do that. My life is all set up if I stay here—free college, my dad's house. Does it matter that much if I hate it if staying will give me a jumpstart on life?"
"I think it does. You're stagnating. Colin was the third guy this month—and you only went on one date with him, just like all the others. I'm worried that this is a downward spiral. There are only so many guys in this town. What'll you do when you run out?"
"Then I start on the next town. What does it matter? I'd rather have someone pay attention to me for a day than not pay attention at all."
"But if you put in the work, you might be able to find someone who would stick around for more than one date."
Holly cleaned up her stuff in the bathroom and said, "I'll be in the car."
It was easy for Tameka to tell her to invest the time in one person—she had a doting boyfriend and parents who'd been happily married for twenty years. But Holly had seen firsthand the devastating loneliness her dad had experienced after investing the time into one person who left. She would rather spend shallow nights with a string of guys who only loved her for a few minutes than be left heartbroken and alone for the rest of her life.
They rolled up to school with a few minutes to spare. Holly stood by her locker, organizing this year's books and binders, clipping up a magnetic pen holder to the side of the gray metal. "Lookin' good, Barnes. Really fillin' out that sweater this year," she heard Sebastian Sinclair's smarmy voice say from behind her.
He sidled up next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Let go of me, Sebastian."
"I'm just trying to figure out when you're finally going to give me that second date. From the sounds of it, I didn't get the full service that usually comes with a date with you."
"That's because I don't like you very much."
Sebastian just laughed—he couldn't fathom that she must have been telling the truth. His family ruled this town—they owned at least part of every business in Freighton, his father was the sheriff, and his mother was the mayor. Sebastian Sinclair thought he was the invincible golden boy of Freighton. And he was right.
"C'mon, Sebastian," Peter said as he walked up, pulling his backpack higher up on his shoulder. "Leave her alone."
"Don't worry, Barnes. I know you'll come around eventually." He turned and sauntered down the hall as the first bell rang.
Peter's eyes followed Sebastian down the hall, his face contorted in animosity. Holly didn't like seeing that dark look in eyes, so she tried to change the subject as they headed to homeroom. "Are you going to go to the Back to School Dance this year?" she asked, certain she already knew what he'd say. He hadn't gone to a school dance since their freshman year.
"Yeah, unfortunately. Tammy's making me."
Holly looked out the corner of her eye and caught his gaze. There was a playful smile on his face—using his cousin's least favorite nickname was his only way to get back at her for his forced attendance.
"Did she get you with the 'but I'll be gone next year' guilt trip?"
He nodded, a strand of sandy blonde hair falling out of place. "She get you too?"
"Yeah. Now I'm just trying to figure out who I'm going to ask to go with me. I'll be damned if I look like a third wheel in the group pictures."
Peter cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck as they reached the door to the classroom. He held it open for her and they sat in their usual front-corner seats. "Well, I don't want to go stag either. Maybe we can go together?"
"Wouldn't you rather go with a real date?"
He shrugged. "A friend date could be fun. No pressure, you know."
Holly thought about it, looking at Peter's flushed face even as he looked out the window. "Sure, Peter. That could be fun."
***
Peter arrived promptly at six-thirty, beating Tameka's boyfriend Jake Harper by about ten minutes. Mrs. Lewis took too many pictures of Holly and Peter while they waited, finding it adorable that her nephew and her foster kid were going to the dance together. "You two look so cute," she said, tucking a piece of her blonde bob behind her ear. "I always thought you'd make a great couple."
Holly's face flushed. "It's not like that—we're not a couple. Just going as friends."
Mrs. Lewis shrugged. "The pictures will still turn out great."
After Jake arrived and they took some group shots, they were finally able to crawl into Jake's mom's sedan. Peter opened the door for Holly to crawl into the backseat. They went to dinner at the diner in town square—a popular pre-dance destination.
Holly had a hard time making conversation—Mrs. Lewis' comments were still ringing in her head. They'd come so naturally to her—she wondered if anyone else in town had the same thought. They'd been friends since kindergarten, but that was all—she didn't want more. It had never occurred to her to wonder if Peter wanted something different.
But Peter had put on his good suit and used a little more gel in his hair than usual. He twisted his paper napkin between his hands—ripping it to shreds like he always did when he was nervous. Had she given him the wrong idea about this night?
They parked and walked up to the building, passing no less than three fogged-up cars in the lot. Despite the cheerleading squad's best efforts to cheer up the dismal room with balloons, banners, and streamers, the room still smelled vaguely of sweat and failure. Music was already playing—the grating club music Holly hated because it always reminded her of Derek. Tameka and Jake hurried to join the crowd, while Holly and Peter hung back at the fringes of the room.
A slow song came on. Peter cleared his throat. "Well. It is a dance. Should we...?"
Holly took a deep breath and nodded. Peter put his hands at her waist and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She looked away, biting her lip as she focused on the letter "S" on the banner, unable to look into his eyes. It was weird—he was practically family.
"Mind if I cut in?" Sebastian stood, holding his hand out, expecting Holly to take it.
"She's not your date, man. If you'd wanted to go with her, you should have asked."
"I always ask her—but who would have guessed that V-Card Holly could turn somebody down?"
A muscle in Peter's jaw started to twitch. "Don't call her that."
"But then, I guess I'm not one of the sad virgins she makes it her mission to, uh, help."
"Yeah, because you're too busy being an entitled dickhead," Peter growled at him.
"What'd you call me?"
"I called you a dickhead. If you weren't such a spoiled ass hat, someone would have said it to your face by now."
Holly jumped out of the way as Sebastian's fist went flying into Peter's face. Peter came back with a blow that had Sebastian spitting blood and they went crashing into the punch table, knocking it over and sending broken glass sliding around the floor. She rushed over to get a chaperone to break it up, which became difficult as a large group of students had circled around them, excited to watch the first fight on school grounds in at least ten years.
They let Peter off with a week's worth of detention. Sebastian had gotten a warning, even though all of the witnesses had confirmed he'd started it. Holly sat outside the principal's office with Peter, the pounding music from the gym echoing in the hallway. Peter's mom was already on her way to come get them.
"You shouldn't have done that," she said, kicking a piece of wayward scrap of construction paper on the floor.
"He deserved it."
"You shouldn't be making trouble with him."
Peter sighed, running his hands through his hair. "He shouldn't get to act like he's invincible. Someone needs to put him in his place. He can't talk to you like that and get away with it."
"In this town, he is invincible. Just let it go. I've gotten over it. You should too."
The small plastic chair squeaked as he turned to look at her. The bruise on his face where Sebastian had hit him was already starting to bloom purple. "I can't help it—I hate the things people say about you. And the way that he looks at you—like you belong to him or something—it makes my blood boil."
She leaned over and put her hand on top of his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You're the best friend a girl could have, Peter. And I appreciate the concern. But you're not my personal knight in shining armor—I can take care of myself. You shouldn't be sticking your neck out for me."
He dragged his eyes up to meet hers. "But I like being your knight in shining armor."