36. Alexis
I stare into the dusty mirror on my closet door, running a hand down the length of my dress. The soft organza sways with every movement, giving the illusion that I’m floating, and the flowers match my nails perfectly.
My fingers stray to the healing cuts and bruises on my skin, the visual reminders that what happened that night was one hundred percent real. I could call Alissa into the room, have her cover them up with makeup, but I don’t want to. I shouldn’t have to hide what happened to me to make someone else feel more comfortable. And I won't.
I refuse to be ashamed of my injuries. It’s simply not my shame to carry. Hudson is the one who should feel it, though I know he won’t. If he was capable of feeling shame, he would have felt it a long time ago.
My spite and anger don’t mean I’m unaffected, though. There are still nights where I’m afraid to close my eyes and I wake up screaming from nightmares that never seem to end. But Blake’s arms are always there to comfort me, and the reassuring beating of his heart lulls me right back to sleep.
Whether it be my parents, siblings, Blake, or even one of the hockey guys offering to go for a walk with me, I never have to face the world alone. Classmates I have never directly spoken to are updating me with recordings of the classes I'm missing so I don’t fall too far behind. Neighbors are sliding get well soon cards under the door. Levi and Alissa’s friends stop by to bring groceries and pre-cooked meals, with those from home checking in via text. I'm not sure what it implies, exactly, but I think it means I am loved more widely and deeply than I thought. That maybe I'd written off the world, but the world has yet to do the same to me.
Tonight, the rankings from the Cute Couples Contest will be made public for the first time. Going off everything I learned from reality TV, the amount of camera time we've gotten seems to indicate a high score. But after everything that happened in the past few weeks I have no idea if we're even still in the running. Do our peers believe the article outing us as fakes, or has Hudson inadvertently brought us the crown by giving me the sympathy vote?
Either way, I’ll be glad to be rid of those pesky cameras and added pressure.
I don’t know why I agreed to go tonight. Whenever I go out, it feels like people gawk at me as I pass, trying to get a glimpse of the poor girl who got attacked. But Blake deserves a night out, to drink and dance and laugh away all the crap we’ve been through. And maybe…maybe I do, too.
Maybe a night under the stars with my love is just what I need to feel like myself again, even if it is only for a minute.
And thanks to Blake’s gift of my dress, I am well on my way.
Blake knocks on the door at seven sharp, looking handsome in a light gray plaid suit. He takes his sweet time looking me up and down, taking in the way the dress hugs my body, the makeup that compliments my dress and brings out my eyes, and the hair Alissa spent way too much time on.
Mom rushes towards us, her phone held straight in front of her as she instructs us to scoot closer together. The whole thing is giving me flashbacks to prom night.
“Not too late to change your mind, you know,” Blake whispers into my ear, as to keep from being overheard. The rest of my family is gathered on the couch, all dressed up and fancy. They insisted on coming tonight, saying they want to watch my face when we win. Really, though, I think they want to make sure I feel protected. Hudson might be gone, but that doesn’t stop my brain from expecting him to pop up wherever I go. The nightmare is over, but the ghost lingers. “I will happily whisk you away to my place and watch your historically inaccurate shows until we’re both snoring.”
“Tempting,” I say, and rise onto my toes to press a kiss to his jaw. A smidge of pink lipstick sticks to his skin, just like it did the night of Miller’s party. The night he told me to leave it so everyone would know he’s mine. “But I heard they have free food and live music, and I want to dance with my handsome boyfriend.”
The band they hired, some sort of 70’s cover band, isn’t half bad.
I press my ear against Blake’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as we slow dance to a Bruce Springsteen song I don’t recognize. His hands are on my hips, his chin resting on the top of my head while we sway.
It’s a little awkward, this whole thing. The cameras are still here, trained on us at all times. We are by far the best-dressed couple, bordering on overdressed. Our competitors aren’t sure how to act, so they don’t look at us at all—a welcome change, really—and my parents and siblings sit at a table right next to the dance floor, their gazes fixed on us. I try my best to ignore them; I deserve to enjoy this moment without worrying about what they might think.
“I don’t think I ever thanked you for agreeing to this whole thing—for sticking by me even when things got rough. I know you had your reasons, but most others would have chosen to walk away. So thank you. For everything.”
“I never considered walking away from this, Alexis. Not once.” Blake steps back with a smile. “This was my one shot at being wholly and exclusively yours. No chance in hell I’d walk away from that. I’m just grateful that you decided to like me back.”
I shake my head, barely suppressing a smile. “You’re such a weirdo. I can’t believe I’m in love with you.”
“Say that again?” Blake’s eyes widen, that goofy smile ever growing.
The sight of him like this, this…hopeful, awe-stricken, makes my heart glow. “I love you, Blake.”
His fingers rise to comb through my hair, cradling my head as he leans down to kiss me. I close my eyes, letting the rest of the world wash away as I focus on his lips on mine.
When we come up for air, the song has changed to some Elton John tune serenading his lover.
“You can have all the guys you want, you know,” Blake says almost shyly. “Why settle for me?”
I lay my hand on his cheek, treasuring the warmth of his skin. “Because it’s not settling if it’s you. You saw me when I thought I was invisible, saw everything I was trying to hide and loved me anyway. Why would I ever want anyone else when I have the perfect man right in front of me?”
He shakes his head in disbelief, his voice barely louder than a whisper as he says, “I love you.”
I bring him down for another kiss, and this time, it takes a lot more than the need for air to tear us apart. The band stops their playing and microphone feedback rings through the room, the high pitch forcing me to break away and cover my ears.
The overly chipper Media I’m in Blake’s arms, still dancing even without music, his body solid and steady against mine. My family’s close by to love me, support me. And that’s all I need.
There will be a tough time ahead, but I know I don’t have to face it alone. With some careful planning and strict rules I know I could pay off a theoretical loan from Blake in no time at all, and thanks to my classmates I haven’t fallen too far behind on coursework. I even have an army of bodyguards willing to drop everything for me if I say the word. Win or lose, I’ll be okay.
Blake must notice I’m not paying attention as he leans down, his breath tickling my ear when he whispers, “Here we go.”
A large screen is lowered from the ceiling as the lights dim, leaving barely enough light to see anything. For a moment, there is nothing but a heavy silence in the dark, a kind of tension that takes your breath away. Then the projector purrs to life above our heads and Blake’s smitten smile fills the screen, the camera panning to reveal he’s looking at me.
It’s us.
We’ve won.
I can’t move, can hardly breathe as my eyes stay locked on that screen, watching the footage of us play out in dramatic slow motion.
How Blake looked at me when I wasn’t paying attention. The way he threw me over his shoulder in that dance class, and me squeezing his ass in retaliation. Me studying his face when he looked away, and staring at his arms during that cooking class. The whispers and small touches, the stolen glances. There is no sound bite from the camping trip—thank god—but even without it, it’s clear that neither of us is anything but smitten. The final shot is of us tangled up on that picnic blanket, slowly zooming out before the screen turns black.
I turn to Blake, wide eyes meeting mine, and without warning he spins me mid-air. The cameras are on us now, I know it, but I don’t care. I take his face into my palms and kiss him.
No more pressure to perform, no more stress about tuition. From this day onward, Blake and I can just be .
He sets me down far too soon for my liking, but I know the others must be getting antsy. Paris motions for us to climb the stage as my family goes wild behind us, filming and cheering and whistling, but all I can see is Blake’s dazzling smile as he reaches out his hand for me to take.
“One more time for the cameras, Sunshine?”
THE END