competed, they’d have a pep rally, to sort of get people excited about it.” I pictured the school gym as one of those long jousting arenas like they had in movies, the cheerleaders like ladies of court, waving ribbons instead of pompoms. “The band would be there, playing the school fight song, and people cheer—they scream stuff like, ‘Let’s go, Spartans!’”
“And you were on the team.”
She seemed impressed. I nodded.
“That must have made you feel like a hero.”
“It did.” It almost was like being a knight, the deafening applause as I ran into the school gym, Tyler behind me. I remembered smiling so much my face hurt. Where had it gone? What had it come to, if you could just be there one day and gone the next. It all seemed like a wasted effort.
I changed the subject. “Sometimes, they have a school play or a dance. They put up posters for those too.”
“A dance! At your school? How fun that must be!”
“It wasn’t that big a deal. They were mostly . . .” I stopped. I’d been about to say the dances were lame. I’d never gone. I didn’t even know anyone who went, except to prom. But I realized that would sound ungrateful to say that to someone like her, like complaining about the food in front of a starving man. “I mean, they were fun. They’d usually have some kind of theme, like . . .” I reached back into my mind, trying to visualize the posters. “Under the Sea, or Western, or Winter Wonderland.”
“Winter Wonderland?”
“I think . . .” I pictured the posters. “They decorated everything blue and white, and the girls wore white dresses too.”
She gestured to her own dress, which was white and lacy. “Like this one?”
“Exactly. If I’d taken you to that dance, you could have worn that.”
In fact, that dance had been last winter, a few weeks after the New Year’s Eve when Nikki and I had kissed. I had thought about asking her, even though she’d said no to me before. But I’d chickened out. I couldn’t tell if it was better that I hadn’t asked her. Would it have changed anything if I had? Would it have been like one of those time-travel movies, where every different decision upset the space-time continuum, changed the future just a little bit? Would Nikki be alive today if I’d gone?
I couldn’t think about it. I said, “I’d pick you up at your door, and I’d want to say, ‘You look so beautiful,’ but I wouldn’t say it.”
“Why not?”
“I’d be scared silent, in awe of you, that you would even go out with me. It would make me shy.”
She nodded. “That answer is acceptable.”
“But I’d help you on with your coat. My mom would tell me to. We’d walk out to the car together.”
“Would you hold my hand?”
“Of course.” I took hers now. “I’d use the ice as an excuse, to keep you from slipping as I walked you to your car.”
“You wouldn’t need an excuse.” She squeezed mine.
“I know.” She was so sweet, and I wanted to make her happy. She’d had so little happiness. I realized now that my life—all of it, even the bad things—was a gift. It hadn’t been perfect, but it was my life. Mine, and I’d lived it.
Bolder now, I said, “We’d go inside, and everyone would stare at me, at us, wondering how I got you to agree to go with me when you’re so beautiful.”
She smiled. “How did you?”
“I asked. None of the other guys did. They were intimidated, afraid to. But me, I was just so stupid. I just asked you, and you figured it was better to go with me than to sit home and cry from loneliness.”
I gave her a goofy look, and she giggled. “Oh, I am sure I found you attractive—in a funny sort of way.”
“So before you could realize your mistake and dance with someone else, I’d lead you onto the dance floor. The band would be playing . . .” I realized I had my phone. I scrolled through the play-lists. The first slow one I saw was “I Will Follow You into the Dark,” which was a guy saying he’d go with his girlfriend if she died. Morbid, much? I wished I had some classic songs like “Unchained Melody” or “When a Man Loves a Woman,” but I didn’t have those. I’d never been the kind of guy to download songs girls liked. Finally, I found “The Only