CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
❛ insert cliché montage here. ❜

GIVING MY DAMPENED HAIR A SHAKE, I REMOVED the towel from my head and hung it over the side of the bathtub. I felt the warmth of the hair dryer filtering in between my hair, transforming it from a wet mahogany to it's usual, dryer, dark copper tint. Whilst I ran my fingers along my scalp, I didn't hear Sydney come in over the roar of the hair dyer and felt my heart leap when she appeared in the mirror's reflection.

"Sorry," I saw her mouth to me. I switched off the hair dyer and she asked, "Do you still have some of that face cream?"

     "Yeah, sure I do."

     Digging into my bag of toiletries, I grabbed the little bottle and tossed it to her. Sydney caught it with one hand and squeezed a large blob onto the palm of her hand. She began rubbing it into her pores, looking a ghostly white colour at first before she'd massaged it harder in the skin. And then, after a brief moment of contemplation, she took the remaining handful and smoothed it excessively into her thigh zits. "For good luck," she told me.

I'm not going to lie, part of me was beginning to look forward to Homecoming tonight. There was something kind of stimulating about preparing yourself for a night out — I enjoyed the routine of it, washing my hair, eventually doing my makeup and wearing a nice dress. That would all go out of the window when I walked into that overdecorated gymnasium, though... usually with these things, I always made sure my parents were nearby so I could call them as a cop out. But since they were loved up in Saratoga, that option was gone tonight.

     Just relax, I told myself. If anyone knows how to have fun, it's Calvin.

     I carefully weaved the little cylinders intended to give my hair an extra wave into my hair, the result making me look like a flaming-red poodle. Thank fuck this wasn't the final look...

     Sydney handed back the facial cream, sighing as she said, "I hope you're good at make-up 'cause I'm gonna need some help."

"I'm okay, I guess." I shrugged. I was mediocre at best, so I could only hope that what she had envisaged was minimal. "I sometimes put on a little bit for concerts and stuff, so I could do something simple like that?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

I followed Sydney back into her room, where she had laid an array of makeup on her bed. She crawled up onto it and sat next to the small pile, legs crossed and her hands resting in her lap. I perched myself on the edge of the bed too, observing what I had to work with. I picked up a brush and started off with some foundation.

"Make me look fierce. I wanna be drop dead gorgeous." said Sydney jokingly, in a slightly off Brooklyn accent as I finished my work with the foundation.

"Oh, I'll try..." I mimicked the accent and began to dab concealer in crescent moons under her energetic eyes. "It'd help if you gave me something to work with, honey."

She snorted and I cringed at myself. This felt so out-of-character for us: the last two people I could imagine pampering each other up and having girly chats were Sydney and I. But simultaneously, it felt like how we used to be when we were kids. No pretence, no angst (okay, maybe a little angst on her part) and definitely no kinetic powers to worry about... for the time being.

"I'm going with Dina tonight." she announced all of a sudden.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Nodding knowingly, I put the makeup sponge to the side and started applying some blush. Although, it didn't seem like she needed it — a natural rosy glow had already risen to her cheeks, and I knew exactly why. A flood of memories clicked in my head like a film reel, displaying each time I'd seen it. Their adoration for each other. The words that were left unsaid but were known by the other, even if it was just subconsciously.

I had to ask. Especially since we were on better terms and we were alone now, would there be any better time? "It's her... isn't it?" I queried.

No further clarification was needed, as Sydney's eyes met mine in an unusually bashful temperament. It was. It wasn't like it came as a shock, but it was nice to see her admitting that I was right. She looked as though she had been caught off guard, but still not overly shocked. Like she'd expected I would say it eventually. And she seemed comfortable, like she was finally accepting herself for who she was; and whatever came attached to that meaning.

"... Yeah," she finally replied. Her hands fidgeted in her lap as she did. "Um, it's new. But I guess I'm still trying to, y'know, figure it all out."

I simply hummed in agreement and pursed my lips, in the efforts to tone down a grin that threatened to arise. "Close your eyes," I said, and began doing her eye makeup. Holy shit, I'm doing well today, I thought to myself. I didn't know today was national 'Come Out To Hallie' day!

"Do you think..."

"Think what?"

Sydney sighed, a serious look in her eyes.

"D'you think she might like me?"

I thought for a moment before shrugging. "I think so," I told her. "But don't get your hopes up."

"Oh, I won't," Sydney said as she beamed at me with little restraint. Her eyes darted from the eyeliner to me, before she piped up, "You can put some more on."

Giving her a look through furrowed brows as if to say Really?, I complied. I'd only applied a light layer before, but with the second layer it overshadowed her eyes and made them seem even more electrifyingly blue than usual. It wasn't too dissimilar from the makeup Dina had done her for Ricky Berry's birthday party... wait a minute...

     I pulled away, satisfied that there was no more I could do, only to be met with an expectant-looking Sydney.

     "A little bit more..." she pleaded.

     "Syd, if I put any more on, you're gonna look like a frickin' panda."

     "Touché."

     I finished up with her by adding some lip gloss, and she was done.

     She picked up a makeup brush and poked it in my direction eagerly. "Okay, now your turn—"

     "Uh, no way!" I shuffled backwards. "I don't trust you with anything beyond foundation."

     "Not even the blush?" Sydney asked, disappointed.

     "It'll look like I have a fever!"

     "Is this because of the face paint I had at your birthday party?"

     "Maybe..."

     "That was one time, and I was a child!"

     "And you still are, in more ways than one."

     "Okay," she rolled her eyes so hard I think they hit the back of her skull. I got up off the bed as she interrogated, "So, what about you? Who're you going with tonight?"

     "With Calvin, I told you." I said, wandering over to the ziplock bag my dress was in.

     "What about Stan?"

     I froze for a moment, huffing exasperatedly out my nose. I could picture what he was doing right now: prancing around in his basement, trying to yell lyrics over whatever Bloodwitch track he was playing, dousing himself in cologne to the point of drowning in it...

     "He's going with Mercedes Callahan still," I told her finally. The words were bitter in my mouth. I'd never held a grudge against this girl in my school who I barely knew — that is, until now. I'm fully aware I sound like a bitchy girly-girl when I say this, but the fact that he liked me so much and didn't even have the balls to ask me in the first place, choosing someone random girl instead, was beginning to really irk me. Not even because I would maybe have said yes, but because there wasn't even any logic behind it.

     "What? Even after last night?"

     I hadn't told Sydney about what happened with him and I last night... at least not yet... but of course she had known that I'd been out an unusually long time, and it didn't take her long to figure out that I'd been hanging with the one and only Mr. Stanley Barber.

     "Yeah."

     "That is such bullshit," she retorted, passively-aggressively swinging open her closet door. I winced for a moment as I panicked at the prospect of her powers flaring up again, but it turns out it was only a passionate gesture. She continued to rant as she said, "Trust me, the moment you walk into that gym he'll come running!"

     "I'm not so sure." I shook my head, thinking about the awful way we'd left things. I'd left things.

     Sydney glared at me suspiciously, barely squinting but it was still enough to obscure her vision in a jet black blob of eyeliner. "What happened between you two last night, exactly?"

     "Nothing..." Seeing the knowing look on her face, I changed my answer. "... Something."

     She cocked an eyebrow at me, folding her arms across her chest. God, I hated it when she got smug with me, and it irritated me into spilling the truth.

     "Fine. Lots of things — all age-appropriate, I'll clear that up right away. We just had a really nice time, listened to music, talked..." I paused and brushed my fingertips along the bandage on my hand, remembering the warmth of his fingers looped through my own. I wonder what would have happened if I'd reacted better to his sudden outburst? Would we have become a thing? Hugged? Maybe even... kissed? Yikes. "He gave me this whole confession about how he liked me. He was like, 'It's you. It's always BEEN you.' and stuff."

     "Shit," she sounded impressed. "What did you say?"

     "Nothing. I bailed out and said it was time to go home."

     Sydney no longer looked impressed. She picked up one of her pillows and I braced myself, failing to dodge her throw. Well deserved, probably.

     "You fucking idiot." she called me.

     Again, I think that title has been earned.

     "I know, I know — put the pillow down! — and I was kicking myself for it," I exclaimed defensively, sighing in relief as Sydney left me alone to fix a stray hair in her neatly combed pixie cut with a blob of gel. "I still am. I-I just freaked out... that's all. But I guess at least I got clarity... whether that was good or bad."

     I was fooling nobody, not even myself, and I knew it. Which is why I don't know why I was so surprised when Syd asked me the following question:

     "Well, do you like him?"

     "W-what?" I stammered.

     "None of that matters if you don't like him back. If Stan's wasting his time on you, then you've gotta let him know."

     "I— that's ridiculous, he's not— I, we—"

     My train of thought began spiralling off the rails, full steam ahead as the sensation of my skin touching his fuelled it. The eagerness I'd always secretly felt when he stopped me to talk on my way past his house. I liked being his centre of attention. The effortless relaxation he could make me feel with just a smile that I never knew I was capable of. The way he listened to me, the way he made me want to listen back.

     I thought of the radio channel analogy I always used to categorise the people I loved and loathed. With him, I felt like his favourite channel that he would look forward to tuning in to. And he'd come back week after week for more, and I always shocked myself at how much more I could learn about myself just by not thinking and throwing logic out of the window when I was with him.

     It occurred to me then, a wild thought but a true one at that: until recently, I'd never felt seduced before. And it certainly wasn't Ryder who was making my heart beat that little bit faster, and not in a clinical way...

     All of this came down to the clear conclusion that it was mutual.

     Sydney vocalised it for me. "You do. You actually like him too—"

     "Alright, no need to rub it in, I get it." I snapped, catching myself off guard. What was I angry about? Shouldn't I have been rejoicing? Running into his arms and confessing too? And yet here I was, pissed off at myself for what I couldn't control.

"Why not? Is it not enough to just say that... y'know... boy likes girl, girl likes boy, and it's as simple as that?" she asked, and I raised my eyebrows slightly; impressed by her words. She was usually never this deep and introspective, and I had a feeling she wouldn't be when her mood dropped again. "This is gonna sound so fuckin' cliché, but... you need to let that —" she thrust her finger towards my chest, presumably my heart, before redirecting it to her head and tapping her temple. "— have a chance against this sometimes."

"Oh wow. That was cliché."

"I know, I think I puked in my mouth a little." she grimaced, shuddering before pulling out her dress from the closet.

My phone buzzed next to me, signalling an incoming call. I took a look at the screen and bit my lip.

Mom.

I peered up from the screen to Sydney, and she nodded violently. "Take it," she whisper-yelled, disappearing into the bathroom with her dress. It wasn't until I heard the click of the door shut that I picked up.

"Hi, Mom."

"Hallie, hi..." she said softly. She paused, and I heard a couple of small, thought-filled grunts on the other end of the line. She was thinking of what to say.

I squirmed awkwardly on the bed. "Umm... hello? Are you there—"

"You know what, I'm just gonna get straight to it 'cause you're probably busy. I said some... things the other day, and I was completely in the wrong about them. I knew that the minute they came out of my mouth. This is no excuse, but it's just I... I-I sometimes forget, y'know? My whole life I've struggled financially, before I met your father, and then a few years back when we had lost all those savings..." I heard her suck in a sharp breath. "It makes you obsessive, stressed... what's the word...?"

"Paranoid." I told her. A feeling I was all too familiar with.

She clicked her fingers like she'd had a Eureka! moment. "Yes, that's it. But then I have to remember who I'm doing this for... my baby girl. And I can't let her... drift away from me. You're not happy, are you?"

I bit my thumbnail, crawling up to the top of the bed and tucking my knees into my chest. "No, I'm not."

"Okay. You know, I remember when you first got into music. In Kindergarten. All the other kids were smashing their instruments with no real purpose, but you... you were glued to that xylophone, and you taught yourself 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star', do you remember that? You took so much care and caution when playing... a-and when Rachel came and smashed her little hands on it you gave her this LOOK like you were all set to murder her!"

I couldn't help but laugh, but I also crossed my legs as I was reminded of how much I missed having a close female friend... or at least that wasn't a blood relative. Maybe it was time to reach back out to Rachel again.

"But... if quitting is really what you want, then I support you. We both do, endlessly. We'll look at other colleges if needs be. It's not the end of the world. I get it: you change, we all change. I'm so sorry."

"Mom," I sighed. "I don't wanna quit. I just... wanted to see what you'd do. I didn't know what I was thinking. It's just that we never talk about things at home, and we used to before I first got sick. I really could have done with that this past year, and this silence hasn't helped me at all. I just miss when home felt like... home. You know?"

"... Yeah."

"Mrs. Foster let me have a hiatus for a while, actually. Said it'd be good for me to focus on my mental health for a while, and get my life back on track."

"Oh! That's... what a nice surprise!"

"Uh huh!"

I conveniently forgot to mention the part where I'd suggest perhaps helping cash in for a new cello, but since they'd be back from Saratoga soon enough, I thought it would be better for them to see Tony's trashed carcass as a warm welcome back to Uniontown.

"It's Homecoming tonight, isn't it?" she asked. I could hear a hint of a smile in her voice.

"Yeah."

"I remember it well... it's so weird that you'll be going to it at the same school I did!"

"I know!" I nodded, even if she couldn't see it. Maybe a part of the reason why Mom made me attend Brownsville school was because she'd gone there herself — she didn't talk much about it ever, so this was a golden opportunity.

"I remember the Homecoming King that year was such a dick. Remember, those school titles don't give you any more self-worth! I wasn't popular in school, but I've still managed to seize success. Don't forget that, honey."

"I won't."

"Got your dress?"

"Yep, it's right here," I placed a hand on the bag, feeling the slight poof of the skirt levitate like a cloud inside. "I was just about to put it on actually."

"I'll let you get to it then," Mom laughed heartily.

"Okay, bye then..." my thumb was heading for the End Call button when I heard her protest.

"Sweetie, wait!"

"Yeah?"

"... I love you. So much."

It's amazing how three little words can elate you and hold so much meaning. Because for me, I felt those three words from the tip of my head to the nails on my toes. I pulled my phone closer to my face, savouring this sweet moment of mother and daughter bonding that I rarely had. Please don't let this stop when she comes home, I begged to no one in particular.

"I love you too, Mom. I'm gonna go now."

"Alright, bub-bye!"

She hung up first, and I tossed my phone onto the duvet. Sprinting up off the bed, I unzipped the bag and pulled out my dress, just I heard the door open behind me. I turned around to see Sydney in her outfit — it was a light, pale blue-grey dress with spaghetti straps, which she kept adjusting self-consciously as they slid across her exposed, pale shoulders. It was clean-cut at the bottom, and soon drew my attention to the Doc Martens that she'd paired with charcoal grey socks bundled messily at the tops.

Noticing where my eyes were cast, she glared at me. "Comfort before style." she grumbled defensively.

"Hey, I didn't say there was anything wrong with them!" I countered, holding up my best pair of white Converses by their laces. I'd saved them especially for tonight, knowing they would have to be in pristine condition. There was no way in hell that I was wearing uncomfortable heels or sandals to an event that I hadn't even signed up to willingly.

     "So, how'd it go?"

     "We're all good." I said.

     "Seriously?"

     "Uh huh."

     "Well, today is just one fucking amazing day," Sydney switched on her phone and began scrolling through a playlist. "So we need some music to celebrate."

     She didn't have any speakers to plug in her phone, but the song itself made up for the quality. There She Goes by The La's began to fill the room, and we pranced around goofily mouthing the lyrics as they crooned around us.

     There she goes, there she goes again, racin' through my brain...

     I held my dress up against my chest and examined it in the mirror. It was one that I'd worn to my second cousin's wedding last summer, and it still fit pretty well. The periwinkle dress was floatier than Sydney's and more modest, with short silky sleeves and the bottom skirt floating down halfway down my shins. If I gave a twirl, it would most definitely follow with me in a light purple spiral.

     And I just can't contain this feeling that remains...

     The dress actually went pretty well with my Converses which, unlike my cousin, I'd presented more neatly. I'd tied the laces in a clean bow, and my white socks were rolled down sensibly and the tops folded over so they matched. I took out my curlers and have my hair a little shake. It had definitely done the trick, not too obvious but there was a subtle bounciness about it that set it aside from my everyday style.

     She calls my name, pulls my train, no one else could feel my pain...

     There was a small knock on the door, and Aunt Maggie stepped in quietly. Her eyes twinkle when she laid her eyes on us.

     "Ah, don't you two look lovely?" she cooed, her lips sealed but the corners curled up in a smile. Sydney's eyes had been drawn to something in her hands, so I followed her gaze. And that's when I saw them: the dog tags, cradled between Maggie's fingers like a lifeline, the metal glinting in the dim light of the bedroom.

     My Uncle's.

     "I'm gonna go downstairs." I announced, gently brushing past my Aunt and shutting the door behind me. I figured this was a moment for the two of them, and after their argument the other day I think it was well needed.

    When I got downstairs Liam was dressed in his robe, the bruise on his eye having turned a darker purple now. He perked up when he saw me.

     "Hi Hallie," he chirped. "You look very nice."

     "Gee, thanks Liam."

     "Do you have a date tonight?"

     I gave him a thumbs up, actually focusing more on the prospect of having fun with Calvin than confronting Stanley. "My friend is taking me. I wasn't gonna go at first but I'm escorting him to make him look cool."

     "Aw, that sounds nice," he nodded sincerely, before waving my DS in my face. "I paid off your loan in Animal Crossing, by the way."

     "Really? Wow, thanks."

     "No worries. I had nothing better to do, so..."

     A sudden burst of generosity came over me, and I couldn't push it back down. It was far too spontaneous for my liking, but for people like Liam, I could easily make an exception.

     "You know what? You keep it."

     His jaw dropped for a second, as he glanced from my DS to me. "What? Y-you mean the Nintendo?"

     "Let's face it, you get way more out of it than I do these days."

     "Hallie, I can't accept, it's way too big of a—"

     "How about you agree before I change my mind, hm?" I stared at him, looking too intense at first, so I softened my gaze and gave him a small, cheeky grin. He returned it in awe.

     "Okay... thanks." Liam stroked the top of the Nintendo, blinking in surprise.

     Ding dong!

     The doorbell rang, and I meandered my way past the coffee table and into the hallway. I peered out of the peephole, seeing a magnified picture of what can only be described as a very snazzy looking Calvin. I opened the door, taking in his appearance as he did a small jazz hands: he'd gelled his hair into a weird quiff and he smelt like roses. And his suit... he was rocking it... and the colour?

     "Salmon pink..." I shook my head, feeling my eyes narrow at the sheer strength of my smile.

     "Salmon pink." Calvin repeated proudly. I'd doubted his fashion choice at first, but honestly it really suited him. He looked me up and down, and took a step back in mock bewilderment. "Hey, you look really pretty!"

     "Oh, psshh."

     "I mean it! You really do!"

     I let him in, shutting the door behind him. He was looking around the hallway, since he'd obviously never been to Syd's house before. "So this is your cuz's pad?"

     "Yep."

     "Nice."

     "D'you want anything?" I offered. "A soda, or...?"

     He politely declined. "Nah thanks. If we're raiding the buffet together, then we might as well save some space for it."

     "Hi there." Liam tuned in, and Calvin swivelled around to face him, chortling in shock when he saw the bruise.

     "Whoa!" he held his belly as he laughed. "What happened there, little man?"

     "It's a long story..." the boy winked coyly.

     "Calvin, this is Liam, my youngest cousin."

     I watched like an embarrassed bystander, as Calvin extended his hand out grandly to Liam, who took it cautiously and shook it. "I'm Calvin," he introduced himself. "As in, Calvin Klein."

     "Oh..." Liam peered at me doubtfully, laughing nervously before adding, "Hi, Calvin K."

     What insane person have I befriended? I thought jokingly, pinching the bridge of my nose. The doorbell rang again, but this time Liam rushed to get it himself. I heard him greet someone, and in walked Dina. She was wearing a lemonade pink dress, embroidered with rouge sequins that caught what little light was in the room like a disco ball. She had minimal make-up herself, but she had gone the extra mile to have a shimmering coat of what looked like glitter on her eyelids and on her cheeks. With her brown complexion it looked stunning — she almost looked like a fairy.

     Dina walked carefully in her heels to a chair which Liam had offered to her, and drummed her glossy, manicured fingernails on the table.

     "Hey Dina!" Calvin greeted her warmly, and I gave her a tiny wave. She returned the smile and waved back.

     "Can I get you something?" Liam asked. "Some tea, some coffee? It's French roast."

     She didn't respond, for her eyes were glued uncomfortably to his face. The bruise. Liam noticed this and nodded smugly.

     "Checkin' out my face, huh, D?" he said, and I cringed lightheartedly at the nickname. "Pretty cool, right? You should see the other guy."

     Calvin snorted next to me, and leaned in to whisper something in my ear.

     "Why is this kid cooler than I am in my Senior year of freakin' High School?" he asked, as if he was actually concerned of his reputation as coolest kid in Brownsville (at least in my book) being tarnished. I just shrugged.

     We heard footsteps, and our attention was drawn to Sydney walking down the stairs. She looked the same as before, except the dog tags were now dangling from her neck — she wore them like they were medals, as she should. Stopping halfway down the stairs, she practically glowed as she looked longingly at Dina, her fingers dancing up and down the banister hesitantly. As I looked to her date, I was touched by how genuinely wonderstruck she looked by her. Her chestnut brown eyes were wide and full, her lips parted in a half-smile as she was rendered speechless. It was heartwarming to see someone look at Sydney like she was their whole world.

     For a minute I got unusually sentimental and wished someone could look at me like that, but then I remembered... potentially... that I already knew someone who did.

     And that's the story of how I made myself turn beet red.

     "Syd, you..." Dina trailed off, shaking her head in disbelief.

     "I brought it, right?" Sydney hopped to the bottom of the stairs, cosying up closer to her more-than-friend.

     "Yeah," she said, breathless. "Big time."

     In my peripheral I spotted Calvin lean in again, his teeth gritted as he whispered like a ventriloquist through them, "Gay..."

     "Oh, speak for yourself..." I whispered back, nudging him in the rib.

     "All right you four," Liam sat himself down on the couch, propping his elbows on his knees very officially. "Remember: no smoking, no drinking, be home by eight o'clock."

     Sydney chuckled. "It's 7:45."

     "And most importantly, Syd..."

     "Yeah?"

     Liam stared at her for a few moments, and there was something so mature and wise about it that made my skin tingle with a sense of family. He loved her so much, he really did. Something that I'd most definitely learned spending time with the Novaks was that family tops everything. They are your flesh and blood and you should be there for them. Always. It made me step back and look at my own family life... and maybe that's why I'd grilled Mom the other day. It had stirred something inside me.

     His eyes smiled sweetly with his lips as he told her:

     "Have fun."

     And we did, for the most part.

     But looking back after experiencing future events, I can only feel dread for how little he — or any of us — knew that life as we knew it was hours away from being drastically altered.

________________________

A/N:

WE'RE ALMOST AT THE END AHHH

next chapter is gonna be... 🤯 (in more ways than one)

it's safe to say the news has been pretty gruelling and upsetting recently. i hope this chapter was able to distract you for a bit, because it's definitely healthy to switch off from current events and just have an escape.

but don't forget to keep doing your bit!

supporting the blm movement and being an ally is a LONG-TERM commitment — not just a bandwagon you jump on when #blacklivesmatter was trending. think of ways you can keep this up. read more literature by black authors! support your local black-owned businesses! there are so many things you can do in your everyday life to be an ally.

song of the chapter: 'there she goes' - the la's
(sydney and hallie get dressed for homecoming)

published: 3rd june, 2020