Chapter 17 Micah #2
Once again, the lump is back in Micah’s throat.
“You’d better want to wear that jacket,” Stephen tells Beck. “You earned it.”
“You still a size seven in shoes?” Jasmine asks.
She’s dressed in tight black leather pants (she’s leaner than in high school, Micah thinks), a wide-necked fuzzy white sweater and a wicked-cool black coat.
On her feet are black ankle boots fastened by complicated straps and strips of metal.
At Micah’s nod, she says, “Let’s trade. I’ll look edgy and cool and like I’m not trying too hard, which I totally am, and you’ll look a little more fabulous—not that you need help with that.
” Jasmine has always been kind. Micah has almost forgotten that.
“Oh, and here. Wear this lipstick. You’ll look savage in it. ”
Micah obeys dutifully. The lipstick is Christian Dior. Very red.
“And there she is,” Beck says. “The beautiful one.”
“Well, thanks, guys,” she says. “I appreciate you.”
Audrey stands a little apart, gazing across the street at their school.
She looks so young, casually dressed in jeans and a soft gray turtleneck sweater, dangly silver earrings and a long silver necklace.
Funky, expensive and effortless. The years have barely touched her, and the wistfulness on her face is unmistakable.
Micah puts her arm around Audrey’s shoulders. “You ready, Auds?”
“Oh, sure,” she says. “Let’s do this.”
“Hold on, hold on,” Stephen says. “We need to immortalize this moment.” He takes out his phone, and they stand there, arms around each other.
Micah swallows hard, Beck sniffles and Jasmine’s shoulders tremble.
They’re all feeling it, obviously. The sorrow.
The memories. Stephen takes a few photos, then turns the phone and takes some more.
“Beautiful. Go forth and slay, Core Four. I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes. ”
Micah wipes her eyes. “You heard the man,” she says, clearing her throat.
“Time to slay.” And with that, they start across the street, toward the tailgate crowd, toward their classmates and their past. An overwhelming wave of gratitude washes over Micah.
To be with these women she once loved like sisters, to be part of the Core Four again, takes away some of the shame that’s been feeding on her like a parasite for so long. Some, but not all.
“Damn, we are still so fine,” Beck says, and they all laugh.
They make the expected splash. Looks of surprise, double takes—“Oh my God, the Core Four!”—and a lot of whispers in their wake.
Then Beck is swallowed up in a hug by Ché Anderson.
Charlotte Lee, who was such a bitch to Jasmine in school, falls on her, exclaiming over her “look.” She used to make fun of Jasmine for being poor, Micah remembers, and catches Jasmine’s eye.
Jasmine lifts an eyebrow, telling Micah that she remembers, too.
Micah stands protectively next to Audrey—they’ve all agreed to stay close in case they need to cover for her. But so far, so good. People exclaim at how little Audrey’s changed, and she hugs people and gives normal, if somewhat echoing, responses.
“Audrey, you look great!”
“No, you look great!”
“So nice to see you!”
“It’s wonderful to see you!”
Micah sees how she can fool people, how she’s been avoiding detection. The effort it must take, Micah thinks, swallowing. Stephen has joined them, and he slings his arm around Audrey’s shoulder. They’ve always been such a unit, unlike her and Eve.
Hattie Miller comes over to Audrey and Stephen. Didn’t Audrey throat-punch her or something, protecting Stephen? “Well, hello, you two! How are you? Stephen, I hear you’re a doctor now!”
Audrey stares blankly at her, and Jasmine drifts closer, too. Is Audrey having a moment?
“Audrey, you look amazing!” Hattie goes on. “Has it really been twenty-five years? I live in San Francisco now. Tech. It’s so boring, but my God, it pays well!” She fake-laughs.
“I’m sorry,” Audrey says, “do I know you?”
Shit, Micah thinks. Audrey seems to be having a dementia moment.
“Um . . . Hattie?” Hattie says, as if forgetting her is impossible.
“Hattie,” Audrey says slowly.
“Hattie Miller? You don’t remember me?”
The penny is not dropping for Audrey. Well, solidarity in numbers, right? Micah leans in. “Um, . . . hi! I’m Micah, in case you don’t remember me. And sorry, I missed your name.” She gives a fake grimace, as if she can’t quite place her.
“Seriously?” Hattie says. “I just emailed you last week, Micah. About booking a town car from the airport?” Oh, Micah remembers perfectly. As if it’s her job to be Hattie’s personal assistant.
“I mean, your face is familiar, but . . .” Micah says.
“Didn’t you call me the n-word a time or two?” Stephen asks.
“Oh, of course!” Audrey says. “Hattie the racist. Now I remember. I think I beat you up at least once.” She meets Micah’s eyes, and Micah can see that Audrey is completely with it at the moment.
“It was a locker slam,” Stephen says, tightening his arm around Audrey’s shoulders. “Very impressive.”
Hattie, her face mottled with red, turns and walks away. She passes Beck, who’s coming their way. “Hey, Hattie,” Beck says. “Still a bigot?”
Hattie gives a little screech.
“No wonder I worshipped you four,” Stephen says. “Hey, James! How are you, brother?”
“Stephen! Wicked awesome to see you, man.” They do the guy-hug and shake hands. James leans in and kisses Micah on the cheek. “Jason B. is on the grill. Wow, babe, you look great! Did you go shopping?”
“Shush,” she says, squeezing his hand, still embarrassed at needing to borrow her friends’ clothes.
“Great to see all four of you,” James says, hugging Beck and Jasmine. “How’s it going, Audrey?”
“Hello,” she says, smiling blankly. Does she not recognize him? He is, if nothing else, her mechanic.
“I think it’s really nice you two are still together,” Jasmine says.
“Yeah, well, a baby will do that for you,” James says. “Plus, she’s the love of my life. Want to see a picture of our son? He’s twenty-four now, can you believe it?”
Micah tenses, watching her friends coo over pictures of Logan. Please don’t see it. Please.
“He’s really cute,” Beck says. “Looks like you, Micah.”
“Lucky for him,” James says. His phone buzzes. “Shoot,” he says. “Gotta go fix the sound system, which just went down, apparently. See you later, girls!”
“Thanks, honey,” Micah calls, and he glances back at her and smiles. God, she loves him.
“Nice to see you,” Audrey says.
“Well, if it isn’t the legendary Core Four! Mind if I join you?” comes a voice.
Micah jolts. “Eve! What are you doing here?”
Her sister wears a knit dress the color of red wine, high brown leather boots and a brocade bolero jacket from Ecuador. Micah knows it’s from Ecuador because Eve posted a picture of it this morning. Not a line on her face, her dark-brown hair streaked from the sun. Perfect makeup.
“All friends again, I take it?” Eve asks. Her eyes scan Micah, her mouth tightening a little bit, perhaps irritated that Micah looks better than usual.
“Hi, Eve,” Beck says. “How are you?”
“I’m great,” she oozes. “So happy I could pop back into town and see Mom. I totally forgot it was homecoming.”
Uh-huh.
“And our twenty-fifth reunion,” Jasmine says.
“Obviously, we couldn’t miss it. So what have you been doing since high school, Eve?
” Jasmine has already admitted she follows Eve on social media, but hopefully Eve isn’t aware.
“You were studying to be an . . . accountant, was it?” Micah bites down on a smile.
Her sister did indeed take accounting classes at the community college. Flunked out of them, too.
“I’m a travel influencer,” Eve says, her resting bitch face back on. “Eve’s Suitcase? I’ve been featured in Condé Nast, O, Elle, a bunch of other places. The Travel Network is in talks with my agent.”
“What exactly is an influencer?” Audrey asks.
Eve gives her a disbelieving look. “I, um, influence people? To visit the places I post about?”
“And people actually pay attention to that?” Audrey asks, her face innocent. Is she having a checkout moment, or is she throwing shade?
“Um . . . yeah. They literally do.” For a forty-five-year-old woman, Eve talks like she’s Gen Z.
“Go figure,” Audrey says. “I kind of hate social media. So fake, you know?”
Micah smiles. Audrey is totally throwing shade.
“Yeah, I agree,” Beck says. “I don’t have any accounts. It’s such a time suck. What do they call it? Brain rot?”
“Well, what do you do, Beck?” Eve asks. “Coach basketball or something?”
“I’m a casting director,” she says, smiling calmly.
Take that, Eve, Micah thinks.
“You know that show about the restaurant?” Jasmine says. “The one that always sweeps the Emmys? Beck cast that. By the way, is Jeremy as cute in real life? My daughters are in love with him.”
“He’s great,” Beck says. “I’ll see if he can FaceTime them.”
“Oh my God, they would love you forever,” Jasmine says, as if they’re all still close.
“Well, we’re going to get some food and find our seats,” Beck says. “Have fun with your mom, Eve!”
The knot in Micah’s chest loosens. The Core Four still has her back.
From their old spot in the tenth row of the bleachers, they watch as Ché Anderson makes his cameo, running a few plays with both teams, throwing what has to be a sixty-yard pass caught by Jace Smockmore, the Bobcats’ best player, who runs it into the end zone.
The crowd goes wild, including the four of them.
When the show is done, Ché says some encouraging words to the kids and gets a standing ovation as he goes back to the Stafford side to watch the game, doing elaborate handshakes with the other six football players who’ve come back to the reunion (probably just to see Ché and score Super Bowl tickets, Micah thinks).