Grand March Chloe
Grand March
Chloe
Twenty Years Ago
“Eden, would you please get out of the bathroom? I need to curl my hair, it’s getting late.”
It was Grand March night, and Chloe was a bundle of nerves.
It didn’t help that Eden had been sniping at her all afternoon.
Chloe was the only sophomore who was going to prom, and the only Barrow attending, too.
No one asked Eden to prom. Oh, she pretended she doesn’t care, pretended there was no way she would go to such a “ridiculous event.” But Chloe knew deep down, Eden would pretty much kill to be in Grand March.
Which was probably why her sister was being such a bitch. She’d been locked in the bathroom for the past hour, holding the curling iron hostage. She’d also removed the key that lived above the doorframe, so Chloe couldn’t get in at all.
Chloe banged on the door again. “Come on, Eden. This isn’t funny. Please open the door.”
Tonight was a big deal. A tradition in their little town, Grand March saw the high school prom-goers from all the schools—there were two, one public and one private Catholic—assemble for a red-carpet event.
The parade of self-conscious teens in tuxedos and gowns were professionally photographed, received cheers and adulation from the entire town, and then headed off to their respective prom nights.
Chloe was trying to play it cool, but she was an absolute wreck.
It was almost three now. Andrew was supposed to pick her up at four, drive them in his dad’s silver BMW downtown, and escort her through the Grand March.
Her long, flowy dress was the palest pink with a princess neckline, and she was wearing a pair of pale-pink Chucks—there was no way she could manage heels all night. Most of the girls wore sneakers anyway.
She heard a click and lunged for the doorknob.
She saw a flash of her sister’s normally ratty ponytail now smooth and bouncy as she flounced into her bedroom.
“Finally,” Chloe said. “Jerk.” She found the key and put it back above the doorframe, then set to work on her hair, ignoring the music now blasting through the door from Eden’s lair––“Mr. Brightside,” on repeat.
Chloe couldn’t help but think Eden was sending her a message.
She knew her sister was jealous of her relationship with Andrew. Half the town was, too.
“Tough shit,” Chloe whispered, twirling the iron through one last section of hair. “He’s mine.”
Her mom appeared in the doorway just as she was giving herself a once-over. “Oh, honey. Adorable! You are just as cute as a button. Wait until your dad sees.”
“Mom. Cute is horrible. I need elegant. Spectacular. Woman of mystery.”
“Women of mystery do not wear pink.” This from Eden, who was now skulking in the hall. The derision in her tone made Chloe’s blood pressure rise.
“Why do you have to be so mean?” She was shocked by the plea. She could usually ignore her sister’s barbs, but for some reason, tonight she was feeling extra sensitive.
“I’m just telling the truth,” Eden said lightly. “The asshole is here, by the way.”
“Oh, shoot, I’m not ready! Mom, help. I need to get my hair off my left shoulder.”
Ignoring the scoffing laugh from Eden, Chloe set to work with a comb and a rhinestone barrette, and her mom held the hair back so she could get it positioned perfectly.
When she was satisfied, when the rest of her hair cascaded in blond ringlets down the right side of her neck and over her shoulder, she sighed with happiness.
“Okay. Now I’m ready.”
Eden had disappeared, thank God. Her sister was miserable on the best of days. Grand March? No way she wasn’t a little humiliated not to be a part of things.
Chloe’s room was at the top of the stairs.
There was a landing halfway down, so she knew that if Andrew was watching, he’d only see her feet and the bottom of her dress until she hit the landing and turned to face him.
Very dramatic. She was so nervous. The whole town was going to see her on his arm.
His parents, her parents, their teachers.
It wasn’t like everyone didn’t know they were dating; she was at his parents’ open house over the holidays—their official coming out—but this was an even bigger deal.
He was definitely going to be prom king.
He got a scholarship to Tennessee to play football, and Knoxville felt so far away; though it was only a three-hour drive, it might as well have been on another continent.
After tonight, everything would change. In a few weeks, he would graduate.
Move on. Leave this small mountain town to become a star. Leave her behind.
But tonight, he was hers.
She would do anything to keep him. Anything he wanted. Anything.
At the landing, she heard a gasp of delight. His smile could light the whole town.
She bit her lip and descended the rest of the way.
Her dad was filming, his phone up, a grin on his face, maybe a tear in his eye, too.
Her mom stood next to him, and they both looked so pleased.
Eden was watching from the dining room, a calculating glare, but honestly, Chloe couldn’t care less.
The way Andrew was looking at her, the light behind his honeyed eyes, made her feel special in ways she couldn’t begin to explain.
He made her cool. He made her popular. He made her, period. Chloe Barrow would forevermore be Andrew Locke’s prom date. No matter where they went from here, she had that.
“Hi,” Andrew said when she reached the bottom. “You look amazing.” His tie and cummerbund were pink to match her dress, and he had a corsage of pink roses in a clear plastic box. He looked bigger than usual in the unfamiliar tux.
He put the corsage around her wrist awkwardly, those hands so agile with a football—and other things—now clumsy with nerves. The pressure they were under, both of them, was showing, little cracks in the painting of their young lives.
They posed for a few more pictures, then Andrew asked solemnly, “Are you ready to go?”
Chloe nodded. She hadn’t spoken more than a few words since she came downstairs; everyone was cooing and positioning and yelling “Say cheese!” and she was more than ready to abscond. A few minutes of quiet would be wonderful.
The second they got into the car, he kissed her deeply, told her how beautiful she looked. How special tonight would be. All of her earlier worries disappeared as they drove to the town center, both of them grinning with joy.
The Grand March went extremely well. She didn’t trip or stumble; her hair stayed in place; she kept her shoulders back and smiled radiantly for the pictures.
That’s what was so wild about the whole event: When they looked back on the photos, how her nerves were buried, how thrilled and happy she seemed.
They danced. Andrew was voted prom king. The night was perfect.
Later, in the darkened back of his truck, under blankets and soft things, he confessed his dreams. Things he’d never told anyone.
That the surface of everything she knew about him was a lie.
His parents were forcing him into a life he didn’t want.
They made him apply to the Air Force Academy; they wanted him to be an airman like his father.
They had a football team. He could play for them and learn to wing it through the clear blue skies.
His parents refused to let him do anything but this. The scholarships, the attention of all the scouts, none of it mattered to them. He would be a cadet, learn to fly, and be a credit to the family name.
And because he had no choice, not really, he had planned it all out for Chloe, too, if she’d go along with him.
He laid out his plan for life together. There were great schools nearby, like Colorado College or the University of Colorado Colorado Springs, places she could be close to him.
And when the time was right, they could get married.
She said yes. Of course she did. Chloe would follow Andrew to the moon if it meant having him. A life with him. That’s what he was talking about. Not just dating. Not just prom. But a life.
They made promises to each other, deep, meaningful promises that would shape their futures forever. They sealed this vow the only way two teenagers with hopes and dreams could, bodily, fusing together under the stars.
None of it happened the way they wanted. Of course it didn’t. They were two romantic kids who thought they had control of their lives, and they didn’t understand that you control nothing in this world except the love you have to give others, and even that is tested time and again.
But for the moment, they took their joy under the stars and made a pact to stay together forever.
That was the night everything changed.
That was the night Eden died.