FORTY
T he lighting is low, and glittering dots of yellow swirl around the dance floor.
It’s like wading through a starry galaxy as I pass through the crowd, the rhythm of the music thrumming in my ears. You know it’s the end of the night when the girls’ hair is plastered to their foreheads with sweat, and guys’ dress shirts are wrinkled and partially unbuttoned. It’s nearing eleven o’clock, but everyone is holding strong on the dance floor. These are the last precious moments of high school.
As I round the refreshment table, I spot a tall figure chatting with the DJ. I know it’s Renner. No one else has that self-assured stance. He beams when he spots me, handsome face backlit by the blue lights near the stage. Human sunshine.
When our eyes meet, the crowd seems to part, opening a direct path to him. There’s a knowing look in his eyes. A look of realization, fear, adoration, all wrapped into one. Without even saying a word, I know he’s experienced it too. I know it deep in my soul.
It’s only when my feet start to ache that I realize we’re walking toward the middle of the star-filled dance floor.
We stop and he holds his hand out. “Dance with me?”
“I’m scared you might drop me,” I say.
A smile dances across his lips. “Touché. No fancy lifts this time. I promise.”
I pretend to look around. “But what about your date?”
He smiles ruefully. “She’s over there ... making out with Cliff.”
I crane my neck. Andie and Cliff Johnson are making out against the bleachers. “Oh? I didn’t know they were a thing.” In fact, I’m fairly certain Cliff had a date from another school at the beginning of the night.
He shrugs. “Guess they are now.”
My eyes flare. “But I thought ...”
“Andie and I went to prom as friends.”
“It didn’t look like you were just friends. Andie likes you.”
“She does.” Renner’s Adam’s apple dips. “And I told her I wanted to stay friends.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. I told her I had feelings for someone else. And have for a long time. I told Andie I wasn’t sure if this girl felt the same way, but I had to see. That I’d regret it if I didn’t.” He makes a come-hither motion with his hand. “Now come here before our song ends.”
My stomach loosens and I finally feel like I can breathe. “You requested it?”
He dips his chin and nods.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I ask. “Why didn’t you tell me it happened to you too?”
He smirks. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“I thought you’d think I’d lost my mind,” I say, peering up at him.
“We both have. Clearly. And you seemed too angry when we woke up in the gym ... I thought there was no way.”
I blink, confused. “I could say the same to you. I mean, you did tell me I looked like shit.”
He gives me a sheepish smile. “I’m a dumbass. What can I say? I don’t think that’s ever gonna change. Even when we’re thirty.”
“Fair.”
“How did you know for sure?” he asks.
“Kassie. She told me the truth about homecoming. You?”
“I kinda put the pieces together when you jumped me on the roof. And you said that thing about my sister and taking the burden for my parents and I just ... I hadn’t told anybody that before.”
“I can’t believe this. It’s so weird.”
He nods. “It would be slightly less weird if you’d dance with me.” He extends his hand again and I take it. He gently pulls me into him, one hand splayed on my waist, while the other tucks a ringlet behind my ear and then wraps around my lower back. “I like your hair.”
“Ugh. Don’t lie. It looks awful.”
He chuckles as he twirls me. “Any style would suit you. I promise.”
“Good, ’cause I was thinking of getting an angled mom-bob.”
He cringes. “How do we even begin to explain this to our grandchildren?”
“Wow. Now we’re having grandchildren? We haven’t even broached the topic of kids yet.”
“Hey, you’re the one that went there, talking about mom hairstyles.”
“Was it ... real?” I ask, burrowing my head into his neck.
“I don’t know. It felt real. Everything I said to you was real. To me. And those feelings haven’t stopped since we’ve come back. And I can’t just continue pretending it never happened because real life doesn’t feel real without you. I can’t pretend I don’t love you.”
I’m filled with a warmth I’ll never forget, like a soft, fizzy drink. I tilt my eyes to his. “You love me? Are you sure?” I ask, leaning closer to confirm I’ve heard him correctly.
His thumb sweeps along my jaw in a gentle rhythm. “Surer than I’ve ever been.”
“I love you too,” I shout over the music, though it comes out more like iloveyou!
His shoulders sag in what looks like relief. “I didn’t know if you were gonna admit that.”
I relish the low vibration of his voice. “I had to. We only have one week left,” I remind him, unable to hide my disappointment.
There’s only one week left to walk these halls, see these familiar faces, lament the torturously long distance between Class A and Class B. Only one week left to fight to the death, Hunger Games –style, for a coveted table in the cafeteria. Just one single week.
It’s strange to think that all of high school is a way of preparing to leave it all behind. You work so hard to establish yourself. Grades. Friends. A reputation. These four years feel like they’ll never end—until they do. It’s like I’ve channeled the great Usain Bolt, full-on sprinting my way to the finish line. But instead of finishing victoriously, I come to a dead stop, only inches before crossing it. It’s not just because of Renner that I don’t want to cross it. It’s everything. I’m going to miss it all. All the little things, even struggling with my combination lock between every period. Suddenly, one week doesn’t feel like enough. Not nearly.
“One week, huh?” Renner cups my chin and tilts my head up again, eyes blazing. “Then we better make the most of it.”
How is it fair that of the 720 days of high school, Renner and I get five? Five. Life is cruel. Then again, five days is better than zero.
“What does that entail?” I ask, letting the fantasy take over.
He bounces his brows suggestively, tightening his grip on my waist. “What do you want it to entail?”
I bite my lip, scared to admit the truth, that I want it to entail everything. “You tell me.”
“Unlimited access to your pencils.”
“So long as you don’t wait four years to return them.”
He gives me that cheeky grin, and his eyes search mine. “In all seriousness, I think it entails holding hands, definitely.”
“Holding hands? Like in public?” I mock.
“Oh yeah. In the hallway. Walking to class. In the library. Until your hand gets tired, loses all circulation, and falls off.” Morbid visual aside, I let myself imagine what it would be like to walk down the hall in front of everyone, hand in hand with Renner. Finally.
Everything in me wants to leap into the air and let out a giddy screech. But for the sake of playing it cool, I just smile up at him coyly. “Yeah? Where else would you hold my hand?”
He reaches for my hand on his shoulder and squeezes for added effect. “Graduation. Grad party. When I pick you up after work at Two Cows. When I visit you at the lake house. Every day. All summer.”
I see all of it so clearly in my mind. Because I already know how it feels to ride in the passenger seat of his van. To have him smile at me. Hold me in his arms.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I rest my head against his chest and squeeze him tight, as though he’s going to disappear again. “I just ... I’m scared. To lose you. Already.”
He pulls me closer, placing a soft kiss on top of my head, then pulls back slightly. He places both hands on either side of my cheeks, and specks of light dance across his face. “Look, I don’t know what’s going to happen in the next thirteen years. I don’t even know what’s going to happen tomorrow. But what I do know is, right now, all I want is to be with you, Char. And that’s all I’ve wanted since I saw you on the first day of school. So please stop planning ahead for five seconds and just be with me in this moment.”
“I can do that.” Happy tears fill my eyes when I realize maybe this is what it’s all about. Maybe this is true happiness. Being in Renner’s arms, surrounded by our closest friends.
I take it all in. The lights, transforming the gym into the magical place it is. Kassie and Ollie dancing and laughing a couple feet over. Nori in conversation with Tayshia near the door, head back midlaugh.
Sure, I may have seen all our potential futures. I may know exactly how it’s going to unfold. And yet, here, right now, I’m present. In this moment, this is the youngest I’ll ever be. While I can’t control what will happen or who I’ll lose in my life, I know I can make the most of right now.
And I want to live in this moment.
Letter to myself at thirty—by Charlotte Wu
For the MHS 2024 Time Capsule, to be buried after graduation
Dear thirty-year-old Charlotte,
I’m writing to you moments after crossing the stage at graduation. I’ll make this quick because Mom, Dad, and Renner are waiting to take cap and gown pictures.
Let’s be honest, you’re still a goal-chaser. There’s no way to stop that. And that’s okay. Goals are good. Goals propel us forward.
But I hope that with every milestone you achieve, you take the time to appreciate it. Don’t let future goals get in the way of enjoying present happiness. Teenage Charlotte spent too many days dwelling over things she couldn’t control. Don’t let the stress of college exams, jobs, or relationships ruin your ability to experience life to the fullest. Hold on to every moment. Be present. Take it all in, second by second, untainted by plans and logistics. Treasure the now forever, because in the blink of an eye, it’ll be gone. And on that same note, don’t let the past dampen your present. Don’t let fear or anger stop you from what you truly want.
Let go of the past and stop waiting for the future.
Love,
Teenage Charlotte