The song ended. Then started again.
At first I was afraid, I was petrified . . .
“It’s gonna be okay,” I said. It was the first time in a long time that I believed it. “It will.”
“Come on,” she said, and pulled me gently by the hand. “You’re my friend, Colie. Dance with me.”
I didn’t want to do it. But I owed Morgan. So I closed my eyes and let her pull me into the middle of the room, into the music.
I told myself I wouldn’t think about that cafeteria at Central Middle. When I danced—and I did—I thought only of that girl sitting on the back stoop of the Last Chance in her sunglasses and her lip ring. She wouldn’t be afraid to dance, and neither was I.
The song repeated twice more, and we kept going; me and Morgan shimmying together, laughing, and Norman doing some strange pogo, jumping up and down. Everyone looks goofy dancing. I’d just always been so worried about me that I’d never taken the time to look around.
The song had started for the fourth time when Morgan suddenly stopped, her eyes on the door. Norman and I were doing the bump and didn’t notice, until he gave me a good knock and sent me flying across the room to the doorway, where I almost crashed into Isabel.
She was standing there, watching us. Frank was holding her hand.
I wondered what she was feeling. Maybe that same strange sadness that I’d felt watching the two of them all those nights from my roof.
Norman and I kept dancing. Isabel was staring at Morgan, and Morgan stared right back.
“I’m sorry,” Morgan said loudly. Norman and I stopped; I was out of breath. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I never wanted to be right about him,” Isabel said. “I was just . . .”
“I know,” Morgan said. The song stopped for a second. It was suddenly quiet as we all stood there. She stuck out her hand, palm up. “I know.”
Isabel just looked at her, then slid her hand out of Frank’s. The music started again. It was the wild finish, the buildup to the end, and Norman grabbed me and twirled me around just as Isabel put her hand in Morgan’s, leaned her head back to laugh, and closed her eyes.
“What is this?” Frank said behind me, as Isabel and Morgan bumped against each other, both of them laughing like crazy.
“It’s what girls do,” I told him. And then Norman and I moved toward them, forming a wild circle, and we rode out the song together.
Chapter fifteen
At 12:15, we went to find Mira under her moon.
Norman was holding my hand, with Isabel and Morgan bringing up the rear. Frank had gone home; we figured the dancing had kind of thrown him.
“No big deal,” Isabel said. “He was too stuffy anyway.”
“I’m going to have to start over,” Morgan moaned. “God, I’m going to have to date again.”
“You’ll be fine,” Isabel said as we stepped over the hedge. “We’ll go someplace new, where there are new men.”
“Really,” Morgan said. “God, you know, we should. We could go anywhere. And reinvent ourselves, just like in high school.”
“Only if you promise to have the same hair that you had in high school,” Isabel said with a snort. “Then we’d meet all the men.”
“That was a nice cut,” Morgan said defensively. “Well, then you have to wear that stupid necklace you always wore, the one with the frog. And those glasses. And—”
“Okay, okay,” Isabel said. “You win. We go as we are.”
Frog necklace, I was thinking. Where had I seen—
Isabel’s cousin. The dork with the glasses.
I turned back to look at her. She had her arm linked in Morgan’s as they walked, and she was laughing. The blonde hair. The perfect features. The beautiful girl.
So that was how she knew.
Now we were under the clear sky, stars scattered above us. And Mira was making her way across the lawn, face upturned to take in the little bit of moon that was left.
When she got to me, I wanted to say something big, something important to mark this occasion. Because maybe it was her, Isabel, Morgan, and Norman who had finally helped me to become. Or maybe, just maybe, I could have done it all along.
But I didn’t get the chance. Mira spoke for all of us.
“Okay,” she said, tilting her head up to the moon, just a sliver over us. “You can start now.”
And as we stood there, watching it be taken bit by bit, I looked across the faces of all these people who meant so much to me. Two months ago, when the train pulled into Colby, the thought that I would be who I was now seemed impossible. As impossible, in fact, as keeping the moon.
But now, as it disappeared, I felt a breeze blow across me. Norman squeezed my hand, and I could see, as the eclipse reached totality, how he must have been scared all those years ago, wrapped in a sleeping bag in his backyard. Because it is so hard, in any life, to believe in what you can’t fully understand.
So I looked down the line at all my friends, knowing I would always remember this. And then I turned my gaze back up to the sky, and put my faith in that moon and its return.