CHAPTER 35
November 24. Evening. Ten years ago.
Evening fell over Dumpfield rather quickly.
Rick had already been standing in front of the mirror for a good half hour, unable to decide whether to go downstairs. First he put on a sweater, then a shirt, and then went back to the sweater again. In the end, he simply remained standing in front of the mirror, studying himself and trying to figure out exactly what was making him so nervous.
It wasn't his first time going to a school dance. And it certainly wasn't his first time planning to have sex. So why was his heart pounding as though he were doing it for the first time?
For a split second, his gaze caught on the familiar dark-blue bomber jacket hanging neatly in the closet.
Rick had put it there hoping to return it to Aaron when he got the chance, but for some reason, he kept forgetting.
He took a step toward the closet and slowly reached out. His fingers brushed over the fabric, and before he realized what he was doing, he had already taken the jacket off the hanger. Automatically, he brought it to his face, closed his eyes, and breathed in.
The bomber still smelled the same — green tea, a little citrus, and something fresh.
A strange warmth spread through his chest.
Reluctantly, Rick put it back and reached for his usual gray hoodie. He would be more comfortable in ordinary clothes after all.
He picked up his phone and checked the screen:
7:37 p.m.The closer the appointed time got, the more nervous he became.
It was strange. With Misty, everything seemed straightforward — Rick knew perfectly well what to expect from her. But for some reason, tonight everything felt completely different.
And then there was that note. Why had someone even left it?
He slipped his phone into his pocket and opened the bedside table drawer. A small pack of condoms stared back at him.
Rick took one out and simply held it in his hand for a few seconds. An unpleasant feeling of disappointment pricked somewhere inside him.
He put the condom in his pocket after the phone.
He looked at himself in the mirror one more time and smoothed down his hair, still slightly damp from the shower.
A quiet breath escaped his lips. Turning away from the mirror, Rick left his room and carefully made his way downstairs, trying not to make any noise.
The last thing he wanted was to wake Jimmy, who was asleep on the couch after yet another drinking binge.
He had just reached for the doorknob when his mother's voice suddenly called out:
“Ricky.”
He stopped and turned around.
His mother stood in the kitchen doorway, arms folded across her chest. Her tired gaze slowly moved over Rick from head to toe.
“Are you going to be gone long?”
“I don't know. Probably until late.”
She nodded.
“Don't come home too late.”
Rick grimaced almost imperceptibly.
“Okay.”
Silence hung between them for a few seconds. His mother seemed about to say something else, but instead she looked toward the window.
“Do you even like it here?” she suddenly asked.
Rick frowned.
“Where?”
“In Dumpfield.”
He shrugged.
“It's okay.”
“I see.” His mother gave a humorless little smile. “I hate this town.”
Rick looked at her.
“Why?”
She was silent for a moment.
“Because every day I think about how we're going to leave.”
Rick said nothing.
“I would've taken you away from here a long time ago,” she continued more quietly. “If it were that simple.”
Something unpleasant shifted inside him.
Rick understood perfectly well what she meant. And maybe that was exactly why he didn't ask.
“I wish I could take you back to Santa Cruz,” she continued. “Remember how we used to spend time together when he went away on business trips?”
Rick fell silent for a moment.
Of course he remembered.
Warm evenings, walks along the ocean, his mother's laughter. Those rare days when home was quiet and nobody raised their voice.
But almost immediately, another memory followed — Jimmy, his heavy voice, the sharp movement of his hand, and the pain that had made it impossible for Rick to breathe properly.
Rick looked away.
“Barely. Feels like another life.”
“Yeah…” his mother breathed quietly.
Rick took hold of the doorknob.
“Okay. Bye.”
“Good luck, Ricky.”
He didn't answer.
***
That evening, the school seemed to have transformed.
The hallways, usually smelling of chalk and paper, were now filled with the scents of caramel, spiced punch, and fresh pastries. Garlands of paper maple leaves stretched along the walls, little lights shimmered beneath the ceiling, and orange and burgundy ribbons hung lazily between them.
Rick stopped in the middle of the hallway and took a deeper breath.
Dressed-up students moved around him: someone adjusting a collar, someone hiding an embarrassed smile, someone else hurrying toward the auditorium with a laugh. Music poured through the open doors — loud and rhythmic, with bass that made the floor vibrate slightly.
Tables with punch and sweets were already being set up somewhere in the gym. The smell of cinnamon and hot chocolate drifted from there.
Rick slipped a hand into his pocket and felt the note folded in half.
His finger brushed over the corner before he pulled his hand away and stepped into the auditorium.
Autumn leaves swayed above the dancers in the light of the disco ball, while people laughed and took pictures of one another on their phones, and some were already dancing without paying any attention to anyone else.
Rick stopped near the entrance, lingering off to the side for a moment. The music was almost painfully loud.
He scanned the room, looking for familiar faces. A few seconds later, he caught himself looking for only one person among them.
Rick frowned and immediately looked away, as though he'd caught himself doing something he hadn't meant to do.
Instead, he looked back at the crowd. Finally, he spotted a familiar guy standing against the far wall.
Tom was alone, leaning against a pillar. He looked slightly tense, repeatedly glancing toward the dancers. Then he pulled a flask from his inner pocket and took a couple of swallows.
“Hey, Barkley!” Rick called as he walked closer.
“Oh, Parker!” Tom immediately perked up. “Want some?” He held the flask out to him.
“No, thanks.” Rick raised a hand. “I'm sitting this one out tonight.”
“Suit yourself,” Tom snorted, putting the flask away. “At least there's some action going on.”
Rick looked around the room. Girls in bright dresses, guys in shirts, someone already dancing near the stage. There were unexpectedly a lot of people.
“I never even realized there were this many people at our school.”
“Yeah,” Tom said with a grin.
“You never said the fall dance was this fancy.”
“That's not fancy.”
Rick raised an eyebrow.
“The principal just goes all out in the fall,” Tom continued. “He's obsessed with all this ‘school spirit’ stuff. Same thing every year: leaves, ribbons, music. If he could, he'd probably drag actual wolverines in here too.”
Rick laughed, relaxing a little.
“At my old school, everything was way more low-key,” he said. “A couple of posters, a punch table—that was it. Most people didn't even show up.”
“Yeah, but you guys had beach parties,” Tom said, narrowing his eyes as he took another sip. “Bonfire, guitar, the whole thing.”
“Yeah. But it's still different here. It feels warmer somehow.”
Tom nodded, looking somewhere over Rick's shoulder.
“Enjoy it while you can. In an hour everyone'll be drunk, and somebody's bound to do something stupid.”
“Classic.”
Rick snorted, but almost immediately remembered the note. His fingers instinctively touched his pocket.
“We'll see how the night goes,” he muttered.
He looked around the room again.
“Hey, have you seen Misty?”
Tom thought for a second.
“Saw her half an hour ago with Cooper.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere in the hall,” he said, scanning the crowd. “You're definitely not going to miss her tonight.”
“Why?”
Tom looked at him with mild confusion.
“She’s wearing heels.”
“And?”
“What do you mean, ‘and’?” he snorted. “She's already as tall as you without them. With heels, she's probably the tallest girl here.”
Rick couldn't help smiling.
Apparently, Misty really was serious about their evening.
“Very useful information.”
“Anytime.”
Tom looked toward the stage again, and his eyes immediately lit up.
“All right, I think I'll go.”
Rick followed his gaze.
Emma was standing near the stage in a blue dress. She looked around the room a little uncertainly, holding a glass of lemonade in her hands. The string lights played softly through her red hair.
“To Emma?” he asked.
“Yep. Before somebody else beats me to it.”
Tom straightened his jacket and automatically smoothed down his short hair.
“How do I look?” he asked a little more quietly. “I'm kind of nervous.”
Rick gave him an appraising look.
“Good.”
Tom's smile widened.
“Great. Wish me luck, Parker.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks. If everything goes well, I'll officially become the happiest idiot in this school tonight.”
He slapped Rick on the back and headed toward Emma.
Rick watched him go. Tom quickly crossed the room, stopped in front of Emma, and said something. She clearly hadn't expected to see him — she froze in surprise for a second, then smiled.
Rick smiled involuntarily and leaned his shoulder against the pillar again.
Suddenly, someone's hand gently settled on his shoulder. The cloyingly sweet scent of strawberry filled the air, and right beside his ear came the quiet click of a lollipop against teeth.
“Hi, handsome,” Misty drawled.
“Hi…” Rick turned toward the voice and immediately stopped. “Oh… wow.”
Misty really did look incredible tonight. Her long black hair was tied in a low ponytail, with a few strands falling carelessly against her face. Her fitted black dress emphasized her figure, and the heels really did make her noticeably taller.
“You look amazing,” Rick said.
She smiled with satisfaction and turned slightly, as if giving him a better look at the dress.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“And I thought you wouldn't even notice.”
“How could I not?”
She laughed softly, biting down on her lollipop again.
“So the evening's already a success.”
Rick couldn't help letting his gaze linger on her.
“Do you like the dance?” Misty asked, looking around the room.
“It's okay. There are just too many people.”
“But that's what makes it fun.”
She looked at him again.
“Especially if you know who to spend the evening with.”
Rick gave a slight smile.
Misty fell silent, then tilted her head slightly.
“You are coming tonight, right?”
Rick automatically touched his pocket, feeling the folded note beneath his fingers.
“So it really is from her…”He didn't understand why that thought made him feel slightly uneasy. Maybe because until the very last moment, he'd been hoping the note was from someone else.
“Yeah,” he answered after a slight hesitation. “I'll come.”
Misty gave a satisfied little hum and met his gaze.
Rick looked into her eyes and lingered there for a second. Blue.
“Don't keep me waiting,” she drawled.
He tensed almost imperceptibly.
“I won't.”
“Where the hell did you run off to?” a rough voice suddenly complained beside them. “I've been looking for you all over the school for twenty minutes! Hey, Parker.”
Rick let out another small, relieved breath.
“Hey, Cooper,” he said with a nod.
“I got bored, so I decided to take a walk,” Misty said with a lazy shrug.
Mark looked at Rick.
“I see. But let's hurry up. I'm fucking tired of waiting.”
Misty rolled her eyes in annoyance.
“Ugh, you're so impatient.”
She slipped a hand into her small clutch. First she took out her phone and held it out to Rick.
“Hold this for a second.”
Rick took the phone. Misty rummaged through her purse a little longer, then pulled out something small and white, something that looked like a pill.
“Want to try it?” she asked, looking at him.
She rolled it between her fingers.
“The sensations will be more intense. No consequences.”
Rick froze.
His gaze automatically dropped to her palm. The pill was tiny, almost harmless-looking, but something inside him pricked unpleasantly.
“Probably not, thanks,” he replied, looking back at Misty. “I'm having fun as it is.”
He gave her a slight smile and handed her phone back.
“Suit yourself,” she drawled, passing the pill to Mark.
He only snorted, took it, and swallowed it immediately.
Rick turned his head, lazily scanning the passing faces. But for some reason, his gaze caught on Lucas.
He stood a little apart, almost in the shadows, his hood pulled low over his forehead, staring unblinkingly at something beyond the crowd.
Frowning, Rick followed his gaze — and froze. His heart skipped a beat.
Right in the middle of the dance floor, among everyone else, two people were dancing.
Aaron and Katie.
She was laughing brightly and easily, tilting her head back slightly, while he… wasn't pulling away. More than that — he was holding her hands.
And smiling.
Something inside Rick suddenly snapped.
His gaze jerked away.
Anger was rising from somewhere deep inside him. At first slow, almost sluggish, but with every second it grew stronger.
Rick looked at Aaron again.
He had told himself so many times that the rumors about him were bullshit. That Aaron wasn't like that. Couldn't be like the way people said he was. Too much had happened between them lately for Rick to simply believe someone else's words.
He had caught Aaron looking at him more than once. He had allowed himself to think that there was something else behind that restraint. That Aaron looked at him differently than he looked at everyone else.
And now he was standing in the middle of the dance floor, smiling at Katie.
Completely at ease. As though he really enjoyed holding her hands.
Zack's words surfaced unpleasantly in his mind.
“Wouldn't surprise me if he's making out with some girl right now, too.”Rick clenched his jaw.
Maybe Zack had been right after all?
The thought felt like something inside him had snapped. The anger flared hotter, almost to the point of trembling.
At Aaron. At Katie. At Zack for putting those thoughts in his head in the first place.
And most of all — at himself.
Because he'd been the one to let himself believe otherwise.
He'd spent the entire day looking for Aaron in the crowd. He'd taken out Aaron's bomber before leaving for no reason at all and breathed in its scent. He'd been waiting to see him tonight.
And now he had.
Rick turned away, his fingers curling into fists.
“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Misty's voice seemed to reach him from somewhere far away.
“Of course. Everything's ready,” Mark's reply sounded distant too. “Our little surprise is going to go down in history.”
Rick wanted to hit something. A wall, a pillar, his own locker—anything, just to stop feeling this dull, burning pain inside him for even a second.
“Katie's going to freak out,” Misty giggled. “She's scared of her own shadow. Can you imagine how loud she'll scream?”
Rick turned toward them.
“What surprise?” he asked, a little sharply.
Misty gave him a sly look.
“A little action won't hurt our horror nights, don't you think?”
She reached for the end of the drawstring on his hoodie and playfully wound it around her finger.
The gesture did nothing but irritate him even more. Yet for some reason, Rick didn't move away.
“Maybe,” was all he said.
“I think so too,” she replied lightly. “But our success doesn't depend on me.”
Her gaze slid toward Mark.
“Yeah, I got it,” he hissed, folding his arms across his chest. “Don't worry. I'll call her, and she'll come.”
Misty raised a thin eyebrow.
“What, you'll just call and she'll obediently come running? Katie told me you two aren't that close anymore.”
Mark clenched his teeth in irritation.
“Can you trust me? Huh?” he muttered more quietly. “I said I'd handle it. She'll be there.”
Misty smiled with satisfaction.
“All right.”
“I hope everyone gets scared shitless,” Mark continued. “Especially Katie. She screams funny.”
Scared shitless…The words echoed unpleasantly inside him. Rick frowned, not understanding why.
Katie herself had said she was scared of all this. He probably should have asked what exactly they were planning to do, but at that exact moment, he heard her laugh.
He turned toward them and saw Katie reach for Aaron, wrapping her arms around his neck. He leaned toward her and put an arm around her too.
The pain in Rick's chest became so intense that it felt as though the air had stopped reaching his lungs.
Rick turned away sharply.
“Fuck it. Do whatever you want! Scare her, laugh, I don't give a shit!”It wasn't his business.
He wasn't going to save anyone.
With one sharp movement, Rick pulled his hood up, turned, and headed for the exit.
“Where are you going?” Misty asked in surprise.
“Get some air,” he tossed back without turning around.
The music remained behind him, but the noise still rang inside his head.
He didn't remember how he ended up in the back courtyard. And he certainly didn't remember when the small trash can had ended up overturned.
He came back to himself only when a sharp jolt of pain shot through the bone of his shin from the force of his kick.
The skin where he'd hit it throbbed painfully.
Rick braced his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. The first frost of the year stung his face, hot vapor spilling from his lips. Everything inside him was still boiling.
For several seconds he simply stood there, staring at the ground. The cold slowly seeped through his clothes, his breathing gradually steadied. Somewhere beyond the school walls, the music was still pounding, but here it sounded distant and alien.
The anger hadn't gone anywhere. It was just finally something he could endure.
He pulled his phone from his back pocket.
9:02 p.m.