Chapter Twenty-Five #2
We dance through several songs, alternating between slow romantic ones and upbeat tracks that require more energy but less coordination.
Derek turns out to be a better dancer than he gives himself credit for, and I find myself genuinely enjoying the experience instead of just enduring it for the sake of tradition.
During a particularly energetic song, Maya appears beside us on the dance floor, moving with the kind of enthusiasm that suggests she’s in her element.
“Having fun?” she shouts over the music.
“The best time!” I shout back.
“Good! Because they’re about to announce winter formal court!”
The music fades as Principal Watson takes the microphone, looking slightly uncomfortable in his formal attire but smiling gamely at the crowd of dressed-up teenagers.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to announce this year’s winter formal court!”
A drumroll plays from the DJ booth as he opens an envelope with exaggerated ceremony.
“Your winter formal queen is… Maya Carlson!”
The crowd erupts in cheers and applause as Maya’s face transforms from surprise to pure joy. She deserves this recognition; she’s been involved in every school event since freshman year, always volunteering to help with planning and organization.
“And your winter formal king is… Tyler Rodriguez!”
More cheers as Tyler, Maya’s date, looks equally shocked and pleased. They’re escorted to the front of the room for the traditional crowning ceremony, both of them beaming as they accept their plastic tiaras and scepters.
“That’s perfect,” Derek says in my ear as we applaud. “Maya planned the perfect formal, and now she gets to be recognized for it.”
“She’s going to remember this night forever.”
After the crowning ceremony and the traditional king and queen dance, the DJ returns to the regular playlist. Derek and I claim a small table near the edge of the dance floor, taking a break to hydrate and people-watch.
“Can I tell you something?” Derek says, leaning closer so I can hear him over the music.
“Always.”
“Six months ago, if someone had told me I’d be at winter formal with you, having this much fun, I would have thought they were crazy.”
“Why?”
“Because six months ago, you were dealing with family secrets and heart conditions and all kinds of stress. You seemed…untouchable, I guess. Like you had so much going on that there wasn’t room for anything else.”
“And now?”
“Now you seem like yourself. Happy, settled, confident. Like you know who you are and what you want.”
His observation touches something deep in my chest. He’s right; I do feel more like myself than I have in years.
Not just the version of myself that exists in response to other people’s needs or expectations, but the person I am when I’m not worried about managing other people’s emotions or filling in missing pieces of my identity.
“I think meeting Jeremy and Emma helped with that,” I say. “Finally having answers to questions I’d been carrying around my whole life.”
“And your mom stopping her pattern of keeping secrets.”
“That too. But also just…growing up, I guess. Learning that I can handle complicated situations without falling apart.”
Derek reaches across the small table and takes my hand. “I love watching you figure yourself out. It’s like seeing someone become who they were always meant to be.”
Before I can respond to that incredibly sweet observation, my phone buzzes in my small purse. I almost ignore it; this is formal, after all, and I should be present for the experience. But something makes me check the screen.
Jeremy’s name appears with an incoming call.
“I should take this,” I tell Derek. “Jeremy doesn’t usually call unless it’s important.”
I step outside into the cool December air, grateful for the relative quiet of the parking lot compared to the music inside.
“Hi, Jeremy. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s great,” he says, and I can hear excitement in his voice. “I’m calling with good news. Emma’s early admission went through even faster than we expected. She can start at your school in January instead of February.”
“January? As in, three weeks from now?”
“Three weeks from now. If she wants to make the move, if your family is still okay with the arrangement, she can be there for the start of the spring semester.”
I lean against Derek’s car, processing this information. Emma will be here in three weeks. Not February, not spring break, but January. She’ll be living in our house, going to my school, building a life in California while I’m finishing my senior year.
“How does Emma feel about the timeline moving up?”
“She’s thrilled. A little nervous about the logistics, but excited to get started. She’s already talking about which classes she wants to take, what clubs she might join.”
“And the legal stuff? Custody arrangements?”
“All worked out. Lilly’s not happy about the timeline, but she’s not fighting it legally. Emma will live with you and your family during the school year, spend summers in Michigan with me and extended visits with her mother.”
“This is really happening.”
“This is really happening. Emma’s going to call you tomorrow to talk about the details, but I wanted to give you a heads up tonight.”
After we hang up, I stand in the parking lot for a moment, letting the news settle. Emma will be here in three weeks. My sister, my actual, biological half sister, will be living in my house, sharing my daily life, becoming part of the family Mom and Robert and I have built together.
Derek appears beside me, his jacket draped over his arm. “Everything okay? You’ve been out here for a while.”
“Emma can start school in January instead of February. She’ll be here in three weeks.”
His eyebrows rise. “That’s…soon.”
“Very soon. I’m excited, but also kind of overwhelmed by how fast everything is moving.”
“How are you feeling about it?”
I consider the question, testing my emotional response to the news. “Ready, I think. Like, we’ve been building up to this for months, and now it’s actually happening. It feels right.”
“Even with the timeline being accelerated?”
“Especially with the timeline being accelerated. Why wait when we’re all ready for the next step?”
Derek nods, slipping his jacket around my shoulders as the December air raises goosebumps on my bare arms. “Want to go back inside? Maya’s probably wondering where we disappeared to.”
“In a minute.” I turn to face him, studying his face in the parking lot lighting. “Derek, can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
“Are you worried about how much my life is going to change with Emma here? About how that might affect us?”
He’s quiet for a moment, considering the question with the kind of thoughtfulness I’ve come to appreciate about him.
“I think change is inevitable whether Emma moves here or not. We’re both going to college in the fall, you’re building relationships with your biological family, I’m figuring out what I want to study and where I want to live.
” He pauses. “What matters to me is that we’re both growing in directions that make us happy, and we’re communicating about how those changes affect us as a couple. ”
“Very mature answer.”
“I have my moments.”
“I love that about you. That you’re not threatened by the other important relationships in my life, that you want me to be happy even if it makes things more complicated.”
“The people we love should make our lives richer, not simpler. Complicated can be good.”
I kiss him then, standing in the parking lot in my formal dress with his jacket around my shoulders, and it tastes like possibility and promises and the kind of future that includes multiple types of love coexisting beautifully.
“Ready to go back to our first formal?” Derek asks when we separate.
“Ready.”
We walk back into the transformed gymnasium hand in hand, rejoining our friends and the celebration that marks not just the halfway point of our senior year, but the beginning of what feels like the most important chapter of our lives so far.
Maya spots us immediately, her queen’s tiara slightly askew but her smile radiant. “There you are! We’re about to do the final group dance. Everyone has to participate; it’s tradition.”
“What kind of group dance?” I ask suspiciously.
“The kind where everyone holds hands and moves in a circle while the DJ plays something appropriately cheesy and memorable.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“It sounds perfect,” Derek corrects, already reaching for my hand. “When else are we going to get to do a cheesy group dance with our entire senior class?”
As the DJ announces the final dance and everyone gathers in a large circle around the gymnasium, I look around at my classmates—Maya beaming in her queen’s crown, Sophie and Jessica laughing at something Tyler said, Derek squeezing my hand as we join the circle.
These are the people I’ve grown up with, the ones who’ve been part of my daily life for years and who will scatter to different colleges and different futures in just a few months.
The music starts, something appropriately sentimental about friendship and memories, and we all move together in a slow circle, singing along badly and laughing at our own ridiculousness. It’s exactly the kind of moment that seems silly while it’s happening but will feel precious in retrospect.
As we circle and sing and laugh together, I think about Emma, who will be here in three weeks to experience the second half of senior year with me.
I think about Derek, who will be two hours away at UC San Diego but committed to making our relationship work.
I think about Jeremy, who went from being a mystery to being someone I talk to several times a week.
I think about Mom and Robert, who have expanded their definition of family to include people they never expected to love.
And I think about myself, no longer the girl who was missing half her identity, but someone who has built a life rich enough to include biological family and chosen family, old friends and new relationships, past questions and future possibilities.
The song ends, the circle breaks apart, and formal is officially over.
But as we gather our things and prepare to head to the after-party, I know that tonight has been about more than just dancing and fancy dresses.
It’s been about celebrating how far we’ve all come and acknowledging the best parts are still ahead of us.