Chapter 12 #2

“You should have heard my brothers.” He opened the car door for me.

As I climbed in, I looked up at my sister’s bedroom window, and my mom and sister threw themselves back onto the ground.

The ballroom was stunning. Twinkly lights were scattered across the ceiling, illuminating the entire space. Massive flower centerpieces overflowed every round table, dangling over the edges.

Rory held his arm out for me as we entered the room, and I was surprised to feel his bicep beneath his suit. Rory was still lean, towering over me now, and his fitted suit hid nothing. He was beautiful.

When he was introducing me to people, he would say, “This is Ellie. We grew up together.” It was true.

It was also the same thing I had said to Matt to ensure he was okay with me being another guy’s prom date.

There were about three or four people who recognized my name, saying, “Oh, Ellie! Wait, do you mean Cainey?” Or “So this is Ellie!” They held their opinions to themselves in those moments of recognition, so I never knew if I had made a good impression through Rory’s stories or a bad one.

Keane’s “Somewhere Only We Know” started playing, and one guy came up to us at our table and said, “I heard this is Juniper-Ellie. I can’t believe I’m meeting you.”

I noticed Rory shift his body uncomfortably.

“Hey, Alex, you know what, don’t sit. We were about to dance.” Rory grabbed my hand, which felt like it was on fire.

But Alex continued, “Man, the things Rory used to say about you . . .”

I saw Rory’s back stiffen, and he pulled me onto the dance floor.

Rory whipped me around, and our bodies collided.

He held my right hand to his chest and wrapped his other arm around my waist. He was holding on to me tightly, as if I had only ever belonged to him.

I did the same, and he dropped his forehead onto my shoulder.

I was transported in time and sent back two years.

Suddenly, we were on my couch, and I could feel us kissing all over again.

It was as if we hadn’t moved from the last time we held each other in this exact way, with his forehead on my shoulder.

Eventually, I asked, “What did you used to say about me?”

Rory let out a deep exhale. His breath coated my collarbone, wrapping me in warmth. He lifted his head and smiled. Our faces were so close. They had only been this close one other time.

He ignored my question and asked one in return. “Why’d you have to look so pretty?”

“I’m sorry.” I scrunched my nose. “Do you want me to go . . . fuck up my face?”

Rory laughed through his nose, and his dimple finally made an appearance. He tilted his forehead down to place it on mine, closed his eyes, and sighed just as the song changed to “Drop It Like It’s Hot” by Snoop Dogg. I snorted, unable to hold back my amusement at the ill-timed song.

“Brutal . . .” Rory chuckled. “We’re pretty good at having terrible timing.”

I tipped my head back, pulled out my dance face, and started popping my neck and shoulders to the beat of the song.

Rory mirrored my expression and bobbed his head.

He subtly bounced his body, and I let out a loud laugh.

We slowed our silliness after only a few seconds, until we were swaying once more.

“Come on.” Rory pulled on my hand to take me away from the ballroom. We went up to the hotel’s roof, where there were already about thirty people from the prom hanging out. He gave me his jacket, and we lay out on the prickly roof. We looked up at the sky, and he finally asked about Matt.

“So, how long have you been with your boyfriend?” Rory stretched his arm back and bent his elbow, creating a pillow for himself.

“Almost a year,” I answered carefully.

“Oh, wow . . . Is he going to LA with you?”

“Ha!” My laugh slipped out involuntarily. Rory turned his head to see what was so funny. “Sorry. That was a strange reaction. I’m going to UBC. I’ll figure it out from there.”

Rory turned his head back toward the sky, his mouth downturned. He nodded slightly. “Have you applied for any schools down there? UCLA? Or have you auditioned for anything?”

“No,” I sighed.

“Not yet.”

I smiled, keeping my eyes locked on a cloud that was shape-shifting overhead.

I had been working as a host at a restaurant, and I was getting ready to attend the University of British Columbia, because that’s where my sister had gone.

My last audition was five months ago. Whenever someone asked about my acting, I tried to swallow my feelings of ridiculousness wrapped in a healthy dose of anxiety.

After a moment of silence, Rory said, “You’re a bird, Cains. You’ll fly away eventually.”

“You know ostriches don’t fly, right?” I turned my head toward Rory, recalling the accidental insult he’d thrown at me a long time ago.

Rory’s laugh was so loud that his body twisted. He propped himself up on his elbows, and his eyes ignited. “You know you called me a sheep, right?” He smiled.

I pressed my hand over my eyes, horrified.

“That haunts me.” Rory laughed again. “I can’t even tell you how many people I’ve asked if they thought I was a sheep.”

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