Chapter 80

The parking lot of the rink is packedwith cars, and I'm surprised there aren't any kids loitering around like there are on Sundays. Bass vibrates against the glass door as I push it open, my friends only a step behind. We stop just inside, our arms linked as we take stock of the place. It's changed. A lot. There are only a few themed events the rink does a year, and this is the main one. The overhead lights are dimmed, replaced with colored spotlights and one massive disco ball above the makeshift dance floor. "Is that a mechanical bull?" Sammy squeals.

"They really went all out," I say over the music.

"Harlow!"

My eyes whip to Amber, running toward me with her Anna from Frozen doll. I drop low, ready for her spear tackle of a hug. It's the same way she greets me whenever she pops into the rink with her parents. After a tight embrace, she backs up in my arms. "Look, it's you," she says, showing me her doll. "I named her Harlow."

"I heard," I say. "It's such an honor."

"Can I see your doll?" Jeannie asks, bending down beside us.

"She's so pretty," Sammy coos, switching her attention from the doll to Amber. "And you are adorable."

Amber giggles at that. "You look like a princess too."

She steps out of my arms, and we all stand while she looks over us, one by one. "You all look like princesses!"

Admittedly, my friends and I may have taken the whole getting ready together thing a little too far. What started as a simple plan turned into a trip to Odessa to buy gowns and get our hair done.

"Amber!" Connie yells. "Don't run away like that again!" She approaches us, her brow furrowed until she realizes who Amber is talking to. Her smile lights up her eyes. "Aww, you girls look fantastic!"

"We went a tad overboard," I admit. "But since the school doesn't do any dances, we thought, why not go all out?"

"I love it!" she beams.

I gesture to my friends. "This is Jeannie and Sammy. Guys, this little one is Jonah's sister, Amber, and his mom, Connie."

"It's nice to meet you," Jeannie says, and Sammy…

Sammy curtsies. "Pleasure, ma'am."

Jeannie and I stifle our laughs.

"You girls have a lovely night!" Connie says. "I'm sure we'll see you later."

We wait until she leaves with Amber in tow, and I turn to Sammy, shaking my head. "You're down bad for Jonah."

She grimaces. "I know. I hate it."

We start for the dance floor, getting stopped every few steps, mainly by little kids who've had parties here. They call me Miss Harlow, and my friends think it's the cutest thing. "Oh, you're popular," Jeannie notes.

I spot Lana serving drinks at a table and tell my friends, "I'll be right back." Then I approach carefully and gear up for something I should have done days ago. "Lana," I say to her back.

She turns, her smile slipping just a tad. "Hi, Harlow."

"I wanted to apologize to you—for taking off the way I did and not giving you as much notice as I should've. I wanted to speak to you on Thursday, but you weren't here, and I should've called, but I didn't, and I'm sorry."

"So you're not quitting?"

"What? No!"

"Oh, thank God!" She gives me a one-armed hug around the neck, and a giggle pours out of me. "I thought that's why you came over here."

I shake my head. "No, I love my job. I don't want to lose it."

"Good," she says. "Because you, my girl, are the sole reason we've had triple the kids' party bookings we've had compared to last year."

"Really?"

"Yes," she says, then motions to the dance floor. "Now go have fun with your friends."

"Okay, thank you!" I start to leave, but she calls my name, stopping me.

"You look amazing!"

By the time I get back to my friends, Jonah has joined them. Dressed in dark denim held up by a thick leather belt, a plain white tee, and a cowboy hat, he really took the theme of the night seriously. And Sammy… Sammy is eating it up. Though he might not know that going by her feigned show of disinterest.

"You look so good," I tell Jonah, coming up behind him.

His immediate reaction is to hug me around the waist, lifting me off my feet and spinning me in a circle. After setting me back on my feet, he tips his hat, putting on a thick accent as he says, "It's a good ol' Texas hoedown, ladies."

"Who you calling a hoe?" Sammy jokes.

He winks at her. "You, later."

Sammy's mouth opens, shuts, again and again, and I give Jonah this: no one, and I mean, no one, has ever rendered Sammy speechless before.

"I need a picture of you girls," Jonah says, taking out his phone.

We line up, arms around each other, as Jonah gets in position. Then he says, his eyes trailing over us, "You guys look ridiculous in this setting. You know that, right?"

We laugh, loud and free, because we do know, and that's what makes it perfect.

I stare at the picture Jonah just sent through of Harlow and her friends dressed in gowns, arms around each other, standing in front of the rink. Her dress is ruby-red, matching the class ring on her thumb and the necklace I gave her. I assume she got the ring recently, but the necklace she's worn ever since I gave it to her. She's never taken it off, even after we broke up. I zoom in on Harlow, on her face, her smile, as her head throws back with laughter.

Before Harlow and I got together, I'd only ever see her smile like that around her friends or around Jonah, and I wanted so badly to be the cause of her smile, that one day, I woke up and set out to do exactly that. She always seemed sad around me, though. At least in the beginning. Then things changed, and it felt like every smile, every bit of laughter that came out of her was for me. Like I'd put in the work and earned every single one of them.

"Something wrong, son?"

I pull out of my daze and pocket my phone, then look up at the man sitting opposite me. He's already watching me, his eyebrows drawn, but eyes clear for the first time in years.

I smile, for him. Because he's earned it. "Everything's good, Grandpa," I say, switching my focus to the chessboard between us. "Who's turn is it?"

"Yours."

Sweeping my gaze over the pieces, I ask, "And remind me again, the horse?—"

"Knight."

"Right. The knight. L shape?"

"You got it," he beams, and my smile only widens.

I move my piece without really looking and then watch my grandpa's reaction. His eyes shift, taking in the entire board, thinking. My grandpa didn't do a lot of thinking when he was drunk, but he does it now, when he's sober.

He's been at the rehab center for a while now—ever since Judge Wallace dropped the charges and released him to the care of the facility. There's still a lot more work he needs to do and a lot more testing to come, but for now, it's working. I didn't know if it would or if it would only make things worse. For years, I thought I could handle it all. That I could take anything my grandpa would throw at me. And that I could do all of it alone.

Turns out, I was wrong.

And I couldn't quite convince myself of that.

It wasn't until I went to dinner at Jonah's house that I truly confronted the absolute truth of the situation I was in: that the decisions put on me to make were like weights strapped to my ankles while submerged under water, dragging me down until I was drowning under the pressure.

The uncertainty.

I didn't want to leave my grandpa alone.

Since the night of his arrest, I'd hear his voice in my head, calling for me, begging for me when the cops tried to take him down. He didn't know what was happening then. I'm not sure if he knows what's happening now. Even sober.

The judge picked up on that too.

That's why she suggested what she did.

"There's something wrong with your grandpa," she'd told me when she called.

"I know," I'd whispered back. And I'm not sure if it was relief I felt at that moment. Relief or fear. But at least someone else picked up on it, because the many doctors I'd taken him to prior blamed it all on the alcohol.

"There's something wrong with him," I'd tell them, but it always fell on deaf ears.

"Checkmate," Grandpa says now, pulling me from my thoughts.

"What?" I look from the chessboard to him. To his smile, as pure as the ones in the framed photographs he'd kept in the display cabinet. "You got me good, Grandpa."

Swear, my friends deserve a medal for their patience with me, because I cannot line dance for shit, though my stepping the wrong way and accidentally slamming into them makes for excellent entertainment. And laughter, apparently, because it's all we've been doing all night. We've all had turns on the mechanical bull, and surprisingly, Jeannie is the one who lasts the longest. "Weird, because she's never ridden dick in her life," Sammy quips.

"Oh my god, I love this song!" Sammy shouts, and before I know it, I'm being dragged back on the dance floor by my arm. I grab Jeannie on the way, but she'd been drinking water, and the paper cup flies in the air, spilling all over the front of her gown. She busts out a laugh before I can even say sorry, and then we're back where we've spent the majority of the night—right in front of the DJ booth so Sammy can show off to Jonah, though she'd never admit it. "A Bar Song (Tipsy)" by Shaboozey blasts through the speakers, and of course, Sammy has the moves down, and I do a horrible job of trying to keep up with her. At one point, I spin the wrong way, slamming my face directly into Jeannie's elbow, and it's pure chaos as I cover my eye, laughing uncontrollably, and Jeannie's trying to remove my hand so she can see the damage, and Sammy's yelling at us, asking what happened, and I can't stop laughing, and my laughter transfers to Jeannie because she knows it's not that deep, but Sammy's close to losing it, and then the music fades mid-song, and Jonah announces, "Y'all, we're in the presence of greatness right now!" I settle my laughter to a giggle and look around. "Jace Rivera's in the building!"

Everyone cheers, and my heart skips a beat as I search the crowd, find him standing by the counter. He raises his hand in a small wave, forcing the softest of smiles. His eyes find mine from across the room, and I give him a short wave in response. His smile widens, just the tiniest bit, and Jonah turns the music back up.

"Let's try this again," Sammy says, getting back into position. She glares at her cousin. "Maybe leave your MMA skills at home, okay?"

Jeannie laughs, moving to the other side of Sammy so there are no more mishaps, and I keep my head down, watching Sammy's feet and trying to echo her movements.

Not much has changed in the hours we've been here.

I still can't line dance for shit.

The song ends, and Jonah announces, "If you're single, move to the side! This next one is for couples. Couples only. That means you, Mom and Dad, get your beeeehinds over here. It's slow dancin' time!"

"I'd Love You All Over Again" by Alan Jackson begins to play, and we move to the side, leaning against the barrier while the floor fills with couples of all ages. Even Amber is dancing with a little boy I threw a party for a few months ago. Of course, Doll Harlow is with them too. Jonah's parents are dancing, doing the classic side-to-side, sway and spin slow dance. Catching my breath, I smile as I watch them and wipe the sweat off my brow. Then Jonah appears out of nowhere, his hand out in front of Sammy. "Don't make me beg," he tells her, and I nudge her side.

She turns to me, the usual confidence wiped completely. It's obvious she's scared. Of love. And if I've learned anything over the past few months, it's that love is beautiful. No matter how short-lived it is. I cover my brother's ring with my fingers. "Faith over fear," I encourage. "Go!"

She takes Jonah's hand, and he leads her a few steps away. Hands on her hips, he pulls her closer. It takes a moment for Sammy to give in to her stubbornness, give up on her fears, and she settles her cheek on his chest, and beside me, Jeannie sighs. "Finally."

"Right?" I turn to Jeannie, hold out my hand between us. Then I smile, repeat Jonah's words, "Don't make me beg…"

She takes my hand, leading me to our friends. I glance back at the counter, where Jace had been, and my chest twists, the pain almost excruciating. He's is no longer there, and I fear that, soon enough, he won't be anywhere.