The Last Boy and Girl in the World (31 page)

Her mom was yelling, “Where are you two going?” but we didn't answer. We were too busy laughing. Morgan's mom had no idea what was going on, but she saw how joyous we were and joined in on the laughter too.

“I'm scared!” I screamed as Morgan peeled out of the driveway.

“Don't be scared, you dummy! This is it! This is what you've been waiting for!”

We tore across town, sped through the one blinking red light. My house had never felt so far away.

About three blocks before the turn for Hewitt Road, we got stuck at an intersection, forced to watch a lumbering parade of bulldozers being driven into town by men who didn't live here, who were in no hurry. We unrolled the windows and started screaming, “
Move move move! 
” And Morgan laid down on her horn. They thought we were flirting.

“Screw it,” Morgan said, and sped along the shoulder, a streak shooting past them.

We burst into my house, and Morgan followed me up the stairs. With every step, I added something to the mental list of embarrassing things Jesse could have seen in my room. Dirty underwear. A half-empty box of tampons. My teddy bear Rosebud, who since I'd found her in my attic had rejoined me in my bed.

We crashed into the room. Thankfully, it wasn't that messy. And it didn't look like he'd gone through my things.

I lifted the pillow off my bed.

He'd taken the art room supplies and made an old-school-looking valentine heart. It was all red glitter, on the heart and also on my bed. So much glitter that if it hadn't been sparkling, it would have looked like a big bloodstain from a crime scene. White letters on the heart said
WILL YOU GO TO PROM WITH ME?

And stabbed straight through the heart was one of the school clock's golden hands. I recognized it right away.

Morgan's phone rang. It was Elise. I saw her name when Morgan checked the screen. “I'll call her back later,” Morgan said, sliding her phone into her back pocket. Which, if I hadn't already been on top of the world, would definitely have tipped the scales.

Tuesday, May 24

Rain in the morning, heavy at times, 65°F

As of Monday, the cafeteria was permanently closed. A sign covered the window on the door saying that all students, even freshmen, would be allowed off-campus for lunch until the school closed down on Friday. That's why it was weird when I heard laughter coming from inside it as I was on my way to the library.

I lifted up the sign and peered in. The cafeteria had been dismantled. Lunch tables folded down and pushed against the walls, chairs stacked in tall pillars, the cash register stations bare, the chip racks empty, the overhead fluorescent lights off.

Across the room and against the wall, one thing glowed like a night-light. The vending machine was still plugged in, a decent variety of snacks tucked in the metal coils. That's where I saw Jesse and Zito and two other guys on the soccer team going nuts on it, trying to pry the glass door open. Actually, Jesse was the only one doing that. The rest were cheering him on, or handing him things to use as tools. Like Zito. He must have found the metal spoon in the kitchen. Jesse tried using it like a crowbar, but it immediately bent in half, so he flung it over his shoulder and it hit the floor with a clang. Another guy was holding up a phone to record the antics, of course.

“Dude, hold the camera steady,” Jesse said, cracking up as he took a few steps backward. Then he ran toward the vending machine and knocked into it with all his weight. The lights inside it flickered as it lifted onto two of its four legs. All the guys yelled, “Whoa!” and it probably would have fallen completely over if Zito hadn't been poised on the other side to steady it.

“Hey, Keeley!”

I turned and saw Levi hustling toward me from the end of the hallway. He had on dark jeans, a black-and-white-check button-up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his running sneakers. He was still carrying a hall pass even though no one checked them. “Do you not go to class anymore? I've been wandering around the school looking for you since the bell—”

We heard the boys running and knocking into the vending machine, tipping it up and then letting it rock back down. Then uproarious laughter.

I had a
gulp
feeling, as if I'd been caught smoking by my parents. I stepped in front of Levi to block his way into the cafeteria. “Don't look” was all I could think to say. Levi groaned and I tried to pull him down the hallway. “Forget them.”

He gently eased me aside.

The boys didn't hear him come in. It wasn't until Levi flipped on the lights that they looked over. Jesse said, “What's up, Hamrick! You hungry?” And then they went right back to wrestling with the vending machine. Now Zito and another guy were rocking it hard from side to side.

Levi folded his arms across his chest. He wanted to stop them, but he didn't have any authority.

I think Jesse probably realized that too, because he didn't seem to care. After a few more aggressive shakes, he ran off and came back with one of the cafeteria chairs. It was a plastic shell with four metal legs. He pushed the guys out of the way. “Here, we can use this to pry it open.” He looked up at Levi and grinned. “No use letting these snacks go to waste.”

I couldn't breathe. I stayed in the hallway, peeking just around the doorframe to watch but not be seen. With equal parts of my heart, I wished Jesse would stop, and I wished Levi would walk away.

Neither happened.

The door of the vending machine suddenly popped open, and you could tell by the sound that something inside it had broken. And the glass was now completely spiderwebbed with cracks. The guys really thought that was hilarious.

Jesse reached in, pulled out a handful of packets of Pop-Tarts from the coils, and flipped through them like a pack of cards. “Strawberry, strawberry, blueberry,” he rattled off, tossing the ones he didn't want over his shoulder and onto the floor. “Oh yeah! Brown Sugar Cinnamon!” He tore into the wrapper with his teeth and spit the paper out. The rest of the boys grabbed for their own snacks.

I think Jesse was confused as to why Levi was still standing there, silently watching. “Sorry, man. I'm definitely calling dibs on Brown Sugar Cinnamon. But you can have any of the strawberry ones.”

“I don't get it,” Levi finally said. “You're out there marching on City Hall because you supposedly love this town so much, and today, you're breaking school property for laughs.”

Jesse's smile faded. He cocked his head to the side. “Come on, dude. We're just fooling around.”

I wanted to explain what I knew Jesse wouldn't. Or maybe even couldn't. That it was easier to shoot a stupid video, or plan a secret prom, than it was to think about what was really happening around us. I'm not saying what Jesse was doing was right. But I understood it.

Jesse saw me standing by the door. He seemed a little surprised, maybe because I hadn't made myself known. “Keeley! What do you want? Granola bar? Pretzel bites?”

Levi turned around. He wanted to see what I would say.

I tried to lighten the mood. “I can't even remember how many times this stupid thing cheated me over the years. I bet it seriously owes me thirty bucks' worth of snacks.” I put my hand on Levi's back as I walked past him. “Go ahead. Have a Pop-Tart. It's on me.” And then, to Jesse, I said, “You are crazy. Frosted Strawberry Pop-Tarts are the best Pop-Tarts.” I leaned over and started picking them up off the floor. Along with the other wrappers and things that the guys had left there.

Jesse came over and grabbed me around the waist, lifting me up in his arms. “That's insane. Brown Sugar Cinnamon is like a cousin of Cinnabon. Frosted Strawberry is . . . practically healthy.”

As Jesse and I continued to debate Pop-Tart flavors, Levi turned and walked out.

I ran to him, though I had to wriggle out of Jesse's arms to do it. “Hey. Wait. You never told me why were you looking for me.” And then I whispered, “And I'll make them clean up. Don't worry.”

Levi turned around. “It's not about that.” He shrugged. “I wanted to give you the heads-up that the governor came into town this morning. He's making a big speech about the dam at the old mill building.”

“What?” I whipped around. Jesse must have heard the shift in my voice, because he dropped what he was doing and hustled over. “When?”

Levi glanced at the clock behind me. “Now, probably. Like I said, I've been looking for you everywhere.” It was that annoyed big brother tone he sometimes used with me.

Jesse had his car keys already out. “Come on. Let's go.”

“Great. Now you two are cutting class?”

Jesse groaned, “Grow a pair, dude.”

•  •  •

I tried calling my dad the entire drive over, but his phone went straight to voice mail. “Maybe this is a good announcement. Like, they're calling off the whole dam.” Even as I said it, I knew how crazy it sounded.

Jesse leaned forward and looked at the sky though his windshield. “Maybe Ward gets struck by lightning. How awesome would that be?”

He was trying to make it better, I knew it. So I forced myself to laugh, even though I felt like I could puke.

The roads around the mill were blocked off to traffic. We ended up ditching Jesse's hatchback and running a few blocks to get there.

There, in the parking lot where we'd had the Slip 'N Slide party a little more than a week ago, stood Governor Ward. A low stage had been set up, with a podium and a microphone and a mound of ceremonial dirt. Someone to Ward's left passed him a fancy shovel with a beautifully oiled wooden handle and a brass blade that was as shiny as a trumpet horn. There weren't many people out here to see him besides a few who looked like they worked for the state in some capacity, drab suits, skirts and blazers, sensible shoes. Them and the press.

In the distance, I heard chanting. It had to be Dad.

As I followed their voices, I passed the reporter Shawn Wilcox. He was speaking into the camera. “We're coming to you live from Aberdeen, where we are awaiting a speech from Governor Ward regarding the Aberdeen Dam Project.”

There was a little applause as the governor stepped forward. “Today, I am proud to announce that we are officially breaking ground on what will be the future home of Lake Aberdeen. In a matter of weeks, we've rewritten an environmental disaster into a story of conservation and preservation. Aided by our government, we signed very generous relocation deals with Aberdeen residents every single day. And, most importantly, we've begun taking the necessary steps to ensure that our river will safely flow through this commonwealth for many more generations to come.” More applause. He lifted up his shovel.

Shawn Wilcox raised his microphone and shouted, “What do you say to the Reservoir Resistance protesters currently blocking the dump trucks from reaching the river? Do you feel you've provided them the answers they've asked for?”

Governor Ward paused. Then he waved a hand dismissively. “Of course, there are always people out there who want to exploit progress, capitalize on others' misfortune, turn a profit from a tragedy. Let me be clear to the remaining landowners who are holding out. I cannot allow your greed to put any citizens at risk for their lives and well-being. Part of why we must begin construction now is because the river typically reaches its lowest levels during the summer months, and that will provide us with the safest conditions for our workers. So we will continue in good faith, until we reach a point where stronger measures will have to be taken.” He lifted his shovel again, scooped up a little dirt, and then let it slide off his shovel back onto the pile.

I spun around to look for Jesse. I'd lost sight of him in the crowd. But then I heard him scream out at the top of his lungs, “That's a fake hole! He's digging a fake hole, everyone!”

A few of the reporters chuckled. Governor Ward turned beet red.

I raced over to Jesse and pointed toward the driveway leading into the mill parking lot. The bulldozers I'd seen last night with Morgan were parked in a very long line along the road. Each one had a bored-looking driver inside, waiting, their diesel engines idling. Several other police officers were standing around, watching. And blocking them from entering was a human barrier, three or four people wide, several people deep, arms linked.

As we got closer, the chanting got louder.

“Damn the dam! Damn the dam! Damn the dam!”

It wasn't nearly as many people as had been at the rally, but I had to figure that was the point of Governor Ward calling his press conference out of the blue. He was hoping to catch my dad and his supporters flat-footed. Thank God he hadn't. Dad stood in the very front line of defense, my mom with him.

The sky was darkening. Though the wind was picking up, the sight warmed my heart.

“Dad!”

“Kee!” He hugged me. “How'd you find out?”

“A friend in school.”

“Good. Word is spreading. Hopefully more people will make their way down. We've got Charlie and Sy over there making calls, telling folks to be here as quick as possible.”

I turned to Jesse. “Is your mom around? Do you think she could come down?”

I saw him bite the inside of his cheek. “Um, I'm pretty sure she's working.”

Dad was overjoyed. “They tried to pull a fast one on us, but Ward wasn't fast enough!”

“How did you find out, Dad?”

“Me,” said Mrs. Dorsey, stepping forward. “One of my clients said she saw something going on down by the mills. I called your dad, told him he might want to check it out.” I grabbed Mrs. Dorsey around the middle and hugged her tight.

Mom came over. “Keeley, why aren't you at school?”

“Because I want to be here supporting Dad.”

She wasn't happy with that answer.

Shawn Wilcox, the reporter, came toward us. “Jim, this is terrific. Let me get you on camera answering a few questions, and then I'll take some video of you all standing here, okay?”