Authors: Mila Gray
go to college. I had a dream to join the marines and I fol-
lowed it. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have a
dream and not be able to pursue it.
‘Well, I plan on having a wild summer and then an
even more wild and crazy four years in college,’ Didi
announces.
‘Where are you going?’ I ask her.
‘USC,’ she answers with a smile before glancing to-
wards Jessa and biting her lip in a grimace.
Jessa gives a tight, bright smile which I don’t buy for a
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second. That’s gotta suck, knowing your best friend is
going to the college you want to go to.
‘What are you girls doing for prom?’ Jo asks.
‘When’s prom?’ I ask, sitting up.
‘Next Saturday,’ Jessa mumbles.
‘Who are you going with?’ Jo asks. ‘You got dates?’
‘No,’ Jessa says quickly. Was that for my benefit?
‘What about Peter?’ Jo asks.
‘Who?’ Didi says.
‘The guy you said you liked,’ Jo answers, giving her a
knowing smile. She then glances my way and I frown at
them both, confused. Who’s Peter?
‘You can’t go to prom on your own,’ Jo says. ‘No one
goes to prom alone. Not even the dorks and the dweebs
go on their own.’
Jessa shrugs.
‘Are you putting us lower down on the social ladder
than dorks and dweebs?’ Didi asks.
Jo laughs. ‘No, but come on, you girls telling me you
can’t find dates? I find that hard to believe.’
‘We go to an all girls’ school,’ Jessa says. I can see she’s
squirming a little at the interrogation, her cheeks going
red. I know it’s not just the fact she goes to an all girls’
school. I bet her father wouldn’t even let her go with a
date. I remember her telling me about her junior prom
disaster.
‘Well I think that’s tragic and we can’t let it happen.
Riley?’
‘Huh?’ Riley says, turning to Jo. He hasn’t been listen-
ing. He’s been watching the volleyball game going on
next to us.
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‘Your sister and her best friend don’t have dates for
prom.’
Riley looks at her blankly, not knowing where she’s
going with this but instinctively aware it’s going some-
where he’s not going to like. Meanwhile I’m totally ahead
of him. I’ve figured out exactly what Jo’s going to say
next and I’m totally down with it. Especially if it means
getting this guy Peter out of the picture.
‘You guys need to take them.’ Jo looks at me as she
says it, nodding encouragingly.
Riley pulls a face. ‘What?’ he asks.
‘Why not?’ Jo says. ‘Girls, what do you think? How
about Riley and Kit take you? They could be your dates.’
‘Seriously?’ asks Didi, glancing at us both. ‘That would
be awesome.’ She elbows Jessa in the ribs. ‘Wouldn’t it?’
Jessa frowns. She looks down at the sand, digging into
it with her heel. ‘Um, I’m not sure my dad will allow it.’
‘Why not?’ Jo asks. ‘He can’t object to Riley taking you
to prom.’
‘Riley?’ she asks, her head flying up.
‘Yeah,’ Jo says. ‘And Kit can take Didi.’ She turns and
winks at me and in that same second I realize with horror
that Jo’s gotten the wrong idea. She thinks I have a thing
for Didi. I’m not sure how she got the idea and I almost
blurt something to set her straight, but before I can, Jessa
speaks up.
‘OK, that could work,’ she says. She looks at me. ‘I
mean, if Kit’s OK with that.’
She gives me a small smile and instantly I see what
she’s doing. This might be the best way of us getting to
prom together.
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‘Sure,’ I say, acting non-committal. ‘I guess.’
Jo claps her hands together in delight, figuring her little
match-making effort has worked perfectly.
The girls all start chatting about dresses and whatever
and I zone out. Somehow I’m taking Jessa to her high
school prom. Sweet.
‘Dude.’
I turn my head. Riley’s leaning over, trying to catch my
attention. ‘Didi?’ he asks, pulling a surprised expression.
‘Isn’t she a little young for you?’
I raise my eyebrows at him. If he thinks Didi is too
young for me, what about his sister? ‘She’s eighteen,’ I
whisper. ‘How’s that too young?’
‘Bro,’ Riley says, his expression darkening. ‘She’s my
sister’s best friend. You are not allowed to go there.’
‘Cut me some slack, OK?’ I answer, riled. I have no
intention of going there but I can’t admit that to Riley or
I’ll blow our cover. But at the same time I’m thinking if
this is how he reacts to the thought of me making a move
on Didi, what the hell would he do if he knew I’d already
made a move on his sister?
‘I mean it,’ Riley says, getting to his feet. He stares
down at me, a hard stare, and he looks like he’s about
to say something else before he thinks twice and stomps
off.I watch him go. Shit. I dig my fingers into the sand.
Maybe I should just back away now, tell Jessa we can’t
see each other any more. But then I glance in her direc-
tion. She’s laughing at something Didi’s saying and then
she looks my way and my breath catches in my chest like
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a fishing hook just snagged in my lungs. Walking away
has always been so easy − I’ve never had to think twice
before. But with Jessa walking away feels impossible.
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Jessa
The warning signs are all there. When I get home from
the beach a heavy silence shrouds the house. The atmos-
phere is so thick with tension that even opening the front
door is like pushing against wet sand. All the happiness
buzzing through me drains the instant I set foot inside the
house. Riley is driving Jo home and I look at the clock in
the hall, praying that he makes it back on time for dinner.
As I tiptoe towards the stairs I realize I’m holding my
breath. I glance at the door to my dad’s study. I don’t
know how I know he’s in there, I just do. If he wasn’t at
home then the house wouldn’t feel this way.
The smell of roast chicken wafts from the kitchen but
the radio is off, another sure sign. My mom always likes
to listen to the radio while she’s cooking, except on the
days when my dad is in one of his moods. It’s the signal
flare I’ve come to watch for. Since Riley has been gone
things have been calmer and there have been fewer epi-
sodes. My mom and I are both naturally quieter, more
used to reading my dad’s moods and tailoring our own to
his. Riley, being louder and less aware, seems to trigger
my dad more often. One time it was for playing his music
too loud, another time for bouncing a ball against the side
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of the house, stupid things, little things, things that any
normal human being would not freak out about.
My mom comes out of the kitchen when I’m halfway
up the stairs. I see her before she notices me, noticing at
once how pale she looks and how on edge. Her move-
ments are fluttery as she tidies her hair and straightens
her apron, her eyes flickering the whole time to the study
door. She catches sight of me and jumps, her hand flying
to her mouth.
‘Oh, Jessa,’ she whispers, ‘you scared me.’
‘Sorry,’ I whisper back.
She glances at the study door again and then at me, her
gaze dropping to my sandy shorts and wet hair, a frown
creasing her forehead.
‘Go and get changed. Hurry. Dinner’s on the table at
five.’
I nod and run up the stairs, my heart beating so loudly
I worry he can hear it. God, why does it always have to
be this way? I ease open my bedroom door and take care
to close it silently, but obviously not quietly enough
because my dad immediately starts shouting.
I head into the bathroom and turn the shower on
fully, hoping to drown him out along with the somehow
more stressful sound of my mom’s murmured attempts to
placate him.
Under the waterfall of water I close my eyes and sum-
mon up the memory of Kit’s hands running over my
back, his fingers gripping me by the waist as though
fighting the desire to pull me backwards into his arms.
A tingling, warm sensation moves through my body, a
surge of heat that travels like lightning from my core and
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settles as an ache between my legs. My eyes flash open.
Breathing hard, I rest my head against the shower tiles as
I imagine Kit in the shower with me, standing behind me,
pulling me back against him, his rock-hard abs, the
strength of his arms.
The front door slamming jolts me out of my fantasy.
It’s Riley. As usual a little slow to read the situation, he’s
burst right into a flammable environment waving a lit
match. My dad starts shouting at him. Through the
thunder of the shower I hear Riley reply and I wince,
anticipating the full-blown shouting match that’s about to
kick off. Riley’s tone, however, is quiet and respectful –
the tone we’ve both learned to adopt in order to defuse
the situation – and after a beat I hear my dad’s study door
shut. It worked. There’s no more shouting. I step out the
shower and grab a towel. My hands are shaking. I can’t
work out whether it’s from nerves or from thinking about
Kit.
‘Pass the potatoes, please.’
My father is the only person who’s so far said a word
all dinner. We eat in silence, the three of us anticipating
the fall of the knife and praying none of us are beneath it
when it happens. I can barely eat. Riley keeps his head
down, shovelling his food up in silence, though at one
point he looks up and winks at me. We just have to get
through this hour and then we’re free, is the message he’s
giving me. no, I think to myself,
you’re
free, you get to go
around to Jo’s. I have to stay home. I wish I could just
leave too, drive around to Kit’s house or to Didi’s. It’s so
unfair. I don’t even have my licence yet. My dad refused
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to pay for lessons and wouldn’t let my mom buy me a car
for my birthday. Just another way he sees fit to control my
life. I spear a carrot and try not to think about how I have
to live this way for another four years, but it’s too late −
tears burn my eyes and I have to blink them away. Crying
is another sure fire way to send my dad over the edge.
‘So, Jessa.’ I look up. My mom gives me a nervous
smile, which flutters at the edges of her mouth. ‘Are you
excited about prom?’
I stare at her, confused. Why is she bringing this up
now? ‘Um, I guess,’ I say, glancing at my dad, who
thankfully doesn’t seem to be listening.
‘Are you and Didi going together?’
‘Yes,’ I answer, my throat getting tighter and drier.
‘Kit and I are taking them,’ Riley says.
I shoot him a look. What is he doing? Automatically I
brace myself, hands flat on the table as though readying
myself for a blast. I glance at my dad again.
He’s looking at me, his fork half-raised to his mouth. I
swallow. He puts his fork back down. Bad sign.
‘Kit?’ he says, his voice a bullet.
Riley shrugs and keeps eating. ‘Don’t worry,’ he says.
‘He’s taking Didi. I’m Jessa’s date.’
‘Oh, isn’t that lovely,’ my mom bursts out in a fake,
breezy voice that fails to hide the note of fear. She looks at
me. ‘We’ll have to go shopping for a new dress.’
‘Does Didi know what kind of trouble her date is?’ my
dad asks.
Heat rises up my throat, floods across my face as my
blood boils beneath my skin. Before I can stop myself I’m
on my feet. ‘What have you got against Kit?’ I yell.
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As soon as the words have left my mouth my legs start
to shake and I collapse back down into my seat. My dad
blinks at me in shock. I’m even more shocked than he is. I
can’t believe I just did that. I’ve never, ever had an out-
burst before, let alone at the dining table. A mortuary-like
silence swirls around us, so thick and solid you could cut
it with a blunt knife.
Out the corner of my eye I see my brother staring at me
open-mouthed.
‘You’re always so mean about him,’ I say in a quieter
voice, trying not to let it shake. ‘And I don’t understand
why. What’s Kit ever done to you?’
A muscle twitches at the side of my dad’s eye. His
mouth forms a ruler line. My insides turn liquid. Where