Chapter 18 #2
Up ahead was the Magnolia Clubhouse, the campus student center where the dance was being held.
As they got closer, Sophia could hear rowdy voices, but she couldn’t see whom they were coming from because it was getting dark.
When they approached the clubhouse, she saw at least ten brawny boys dressed in Confederate uniforms standing on the lawn.
A few twirled small Confederate flags as they posed for a picture.
At the sight of them, Sophia felt Claude’s arm twitch.
“You all right?” she asked softly.
“Yeah, I just don’t want any trouble.”
Sophia remembered the story that Willa had told her of Claude being pushed around and tormented by the boys on his first day of school.
The trauma of that moment seemed to reactivate inside him, because she could feel his whole body shake as he pulled her along toward the clubhouse.
When they reached the steps, Sophia could hear “Help Me, Rhonda” by the Beach Boys floating from the speakers inside.
She thought about how much better she’d feel when they reached their friends.
“Well, would you look at who we have here,” one of the Confederate-dressed boys said to their backs, but the two kept walking as if they didn’t hear him. “It’s Aunt Jemima and Uncle Ben. Boys, supper is ready. Now we can eat.” He burst out laughing.
“What’s on the menu?” another shouted.
“Chicken and watermelon,” the other said, and cackled as the door to the clubhouse closed behind them.
In the foyer, Sophia turned to Claude, who looked like a cat stuck in a tree. “Don’t pay them any mind.”
“I’m not. I’m cool.” Claude took her hand and led her into the large reception room.
Max, Willa, Louis, and Nancy from physics were sitting at a table next to the refreshments. Sophia could feel all eyes on her and Claude as they entered.
Willa stood and rushed to Sophia. “You look amazing,” she exclaimed. “Come have a cookie.”
Max stood when Sophia got to the table. “Hey, what took you guys so long?” He directed the question to Claude and then looked to Sophia for an answer. He was wearing a dark blue suit, tapered and fitted with a black bow tie. With his sloppy smile on her, Sophia’s knees felt spongy.
“It was my fault,” she said. “What did we miss?”
“Just foolishness,” answered Louis, pointing to the decorations. The inside of the reception room had been made to look like a Southern plantation. The tablecloths were red and blue, with cotton stems arranged in olive buckets as the centerpieces. White stars seemed to be everywhere.
“And did you see the boys in those damn uniforms?” Louis gritted his teeth.
“Come on, guys, let’s turn this party around.” Willa grabbed Max’s hand and led him to the dance floor.
The happy tune made Sophia want to clap her hands and let the nasty comments of the Confederate-dressed boys go.
The teens found a hole in the crowd and shimmied their hips to “Twist and Shout” by the Isley Brothers.
The music slowed with “Baby Love” by the Supremes, and Sophia shrank as Willa fell into Max’s arms.
“I think I’m going to take a break,” she said to Claude.
“Just one more dance? I really like this song,” he pleaded.
Sophia sighed and let him put one hand around her waist and clasp her hand with the other.
As they swayed, she tried not to look at Willa and Max over Claude’s shoulder, but her eyes kept betraying her.
Max had picked his hair out, and she wondered how his shiny curls would feel between her fingers.
Just as the song came to an end, Max turned away from Willa, and his eyes found Sophia.
Their gazes locked, and after staring for what felt like seconds too long, he smiled at her.
She felt herself blush as she dropped her eyes.
They all returned to the table and reached for the paper cups filled with lemonade and the plate of assorted cookies.
Sophia felt a bit sweaty, so she excused herself to the lavatory.
Willa stood to come with her, but then one of her tennis friends pulled her back onto the dance floor.
In the bathroom mirror, Sophia was amazed to see that she looked just as lovely as she had when she left her dorm, except for the perspiration on her brow, which she dabbed with a tissue.
When she came out of the bathroom, her friends were up dancing again, but Sophia’s feet ached.
Air. She could use some air, so she slipped out the back door. Couples were draped on the porch swings and wide comfy chairs. Sophia found an empty bench a few feet away from the building. The view of the parklike campus was stunning. What a turn her life had taken in just a few short months.
“Oh, what a night.” It was Max.
“Hey.” She looked up at him and then behind him for the others, but he stood alone with a paper cup in each hand.
“Would you like one?” he asked.
“As long as you didn’t spike it.”
“I was careful to avoid that punch, God knows what they put in it,” he said, sitting down next to her. “Those kids over there are wasted. Look at how everyone is suddenly all handsy and falling down laughing. Telltale sign.”
Sophia could feel the heat radiating off Max as he sat next to her. He smelled of cedar and spice, and she inhaled him slowly. Down the hill but in eyesight, a small crowd of students had started to gather. It looked like they were building a bonfire.
“Are they allowed to do that?”
“From what I’ve seen, the wealthy kids make the rules around here. Administration doesn’t want to rock the boat because those families are their bread and butter. They get away with all types of crap.”
They watched as a boy threw a big piece of firewood onto the growing pile.
“I see that you girls are having a pretty good season so far,” Max said.
Sophia punched his arm lightly. “Are you making fun of me? We’ve won one game.”
“That’s a good start for Forest. It’s only the second year the girls have had a team. Last year they went oh and eight.”
“Meanwhile, you guys have won four straight.”
“Well, what do you expect with me as the point guard.” He chuckled.
“Okay, Mr. Conceited.”
“Not conceited, just confident.”
A small flame caught on the wood, but then it quickly sputtered out.
Sophia turned to Max. “So, you mentioned that you grew up in Germany?”
“I never really talk about this,” he confessed. “My parents have done their best, smothering me with love, which I appreciate, but… it feels like they want me to forget.”
“Forget what?”
“That I was adopted,” he whispered. “No one at Forest knows this. I can’t believe I’m telling you.”
“It’s okay, you’re safe with me,” she said.
Max looked off into the distance, contemplating for a long while, before he opened his mouth. “I lived in an orphanage in Germany before I came to America.”
Sophia felt uneasiness come over her. “What do you remember?”
“A lot of things. I remember the women in charge wore black habits. Catholic nuns, I think.”
“Those black robes with their hair covered?”
He nodded, and his eyes looked like he was traveling back to that place far away. “There was a play area. A patch of dirt, really, under the shade of a tree where the grass just didn’t grow. I used to ride a tricycle, and there was a rope swing that I pushed my friend on.”
As he described the swing, Sophia could feel her stomach drop, the feeling of going up and down and flying through the air. Silence passed between them as they watched the teenagers light the bonfire. A big flame went up into the sky.
“That looks so dangerous.”
“I hate fire,” he confessed.
“Me too.” Then Sophia turned to him. “Why do you hate it?”
“I was caught in a fire once. When I still lived in the orphanage. Have you ever seen that dark mark on my arm?”
“No.”
Max removed his suit jacket and started rolling up his sleeve. There was a dark mark just above his forearm, blistered over. Sophia didn’t know what came over her, but she reached out and touched it. A spark surged from her finger to her elbow.
“Go on, finish the story,” she pushed.
Max described the kitchen fire. Sophia closed her eyes, and as he spoke, her recurring nightmare flashed through her mind. She could feel the heat of the fire shooting up her arms. And then she remembered. Black skirts. There were black skirts in the dream but no faces.
“I have a burn mark too.” She turned to him. “It happened when I was little, but it’s on the back of my thigh.”
“How’d your burn happen?” he asked.
Ma Deary had told her that she’d gotten too close to the fireplace and the logs had crackled and spat fire at her. She couldn’t remember it and had always wondered if Ma was leaving something out.
“Here’s mine.” She turned to Max and lifted the skirt of her dress. Max pushed his finger in her burn mark. Sophia closed her eyes against his touch. She saw herself walking to a door in a dark room. She reached for the door and pulled it open. “Auf Wiedersehen,” she said softly.
“Goodbye? Have you been practicing German too? Your accent is perfect.”
The words were just there and then oozing from her mouth. She couldn’t hear the teens down by the fire or the music streaming from the dance. Just their breathing. Rhythmic. It seemed like Max was feeling something too.
“There you two are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” Willa stood holding a plate.
Sophia dropped her skirt back over her legs, hoping that Willa hadn’t noticed.
“I figured you’d want something sweet.” Willa handed the pie to Max.
“Thank you,” Max said, and Sophia watched him slip away from her and back to Willa.
“Now, what were you two talking about so intently?” Willa put her hands on her hips as Claude came up beside her.
“Basketball,” Sophia replied.
“It’s all this dude thinks about.” Claude pointed at Max.
“Ladies, please say good night.” Sophia turned to see Ms. Meacham, her physics teacher and the girls’ dorm mother, clapping her hands and calling out, “It’s time to return.”
Willa reached her hand in Max’s direction; he took her hand and kissed it.
Sophia realized she was supposed to do the same thing to Claude and acquiesced.
His kiss was wet, and she desperately wanted to wipe her hand on her dress but resisted the urge.
As she walked to meet the other girls in line, she stole a look back at Max, and to her delight, he smiled and mouthed, Auf Wiedersehen.