Friday evening arrived. It was nice of Nate to drive Clint, Clover, and me to school, but it had taken him an hour to pick us up. He was in a sour mood that evening, considering he barely replied to Clover's complaints about him being late.
By the time we arrived at around seven o'clock, the party was full of vigor. The courtyard was amazingly warm and bright. Balloon-shaped lights hung high and low from the tree branches, creating a mesmerizing canopy overhead, while string lights were wrapped around the trees. The seats and tables were covered in white silk, and flower centerpieces decorated the tables. There was a buffet, too.
"Oh my God, whoever did all this had better have been paid. This is magical," Clover gushed. She was wearing a short red dress that matched her lipstick, and her blonde hair was styled in beautiful waves. Clint hadn't taken his eyes off her since we had left home.
"Agreed," he said. His eyes swept over the area before he snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "Everything looks good tonight, but you look so much better."
Clover giggled and hit his shoulder.
"Oh, God," I muttered, turning away from them. Nate made a face and quickly suggested looking for a table.
On the way, I met some of my colleagues from the Westside Chronicle. Manuela Jackson, our sportswriter and a member of the theatre club, and Kahil Murillo, our Editor-in-Chief. They returned a friendly greeting, and I felt like my world had gotten a little bigger.
We found an empty round table on the far side of the courtyard and discussed our summer plans until a loud, peppy voice interrupted us.
"Hey! How's the night so far?"
We all turned our heads toward Rose, who was strutting to our table and waving her hand. There was a collective pause in the group.
"What?" she asked.
"Why the hell are you dressed like that? Whose funeral are you attending?" Nate exclaimed, wildly gesticulating at her getup: a short-sleeved corset, a three-tiered tail skirt, a mini top hat with feathers, lace tights, short boots, and some elaborate accessories. Everything was black.
Rose put her hands on her hips. "Could be yours, Nate, if you kept mocking my dress."
"Yeah. Don't go judging people's outfits when you're dressed exactly like Mr. Bean," Clover said with a snort. Nate threw his hands up in surrender, fed up with her jokes. She had laughed for a full two minutes when she had seen his all-brown outfit for the first time.
"Anyway, why are you guys sitting here? Let's go dance!" Rose made a little shake of her body.
"It's such a drag," Nate replied with an exasperated sigh.
"What's the matter with you? How many bags of salt did you eat tonight?"
"His date bailed on him at the last minute," Clover said.
Nate scowled. "I paid for her ticket, y'know? Only for her to ditch me for her ex."
"I told you she had bad vibes all over her." Rose rolled her eyes and began strutting to the dance area, beckoning us to follow her. "Come on. Let's dance already!"
A wave of discomfort washed over me. I didn't know how to dance at all, but I forced myself to walk with my friends because we might not get another chance to dance together. Oh, how I wished Michael were there.
Clover pulled me to the center of the crowd. Grinning, I bobbed my head to pop music and watched my friends spin, bounce around, and throw their arms in all directions without care.
"Move, Autumn!" Rose took my hand, and she spun me around.
Eventually, I found myself doing crazy movements I never thought I would make. I was absorbing everyone's actions. I was sweating. I was swaying my hands above my head. I was laughing. I was moving freely. And nobody cared how weird I looked. It was awesome.
As the music gradually transitioned into a slow, romantic tune, several people returned to their tables, making the dance area a little more spacious. Clover was about to turn away when Clint pulled her back, and the two began to sway in each other's arms. Her face held a combination of surprise and thrill, and she leaned to kiss him.
I was about to get myself some refreshments from the buffet table when a familiar deep voice filled my ears.
"Marmalade."
My breathing hitched. I whipped around, and my jaw wagged a few times before I managed to croak, "M-Michael?"
He stood in front of me, hands in his pockets. He was dressed in a fitted black button-down shirt, which was tucked into his black pants, and lace-up shoes so shiny they must have taken an hour to polish. His dark hair was brushed away from his forehead, though a few little strands couldn't help but dangle over his brows. He was dressed so simply, yet he looked strong, confident, and overall alluring.
He tilted his head as he studied my slack-jawed expression. "You don't seem happy to see me."
"I thought... I thought you wouldn't come," I said. His eyes were doing a quick assessment of my appearance, and my heart kicked into overdrive. I must have looked like a disaster from all that dancing. I wished I had a minute to at least comb my hair or check my face in the mirror. I smoothed out my pink cocktail dress in an attempt to make myself look presentable.
Michael flashed a disarming smile. "I was kidding."
"Oh, okay. You got me. Good job." My nervous laughter came out as a giggle, and I almost cringed. I tried to relax my face into a neutral expression. "I'm happy you're here."
"So am I. I would've hated to miss the chance of seeing you bust a move."
"You've been here the whole time?" I asked in shock.
"Not exactly. I just had perfect timing. Are you tired?"
"No, why?"
"Would you like to dance again?" he asked. I thought I misheard him, so I gave him an "excuse me" look. He cleared his throat. "What I mean is, will you do me the honor of dancing with me? Just one dance. That's what I came here for."
A wide grin broke across my face, and I immediately bit my bottom lip to suppress it. "Yes, I'd love to," I answered, trying to keep the eagerness out of my voice and failing ungracefully. "B-but I'm not one for slow dances like this, so..." I chuckled nervously. "Prepare your feet because I'm going to be insanely clumsy."
"You should be fine. I trust your moves more than mine."
He offered his hand, and I took it, forcing myself not to squirm in delight. Our palms were clammy from the nerves. When we entered the moving ring of couples, we turned to face each other. He put one hand on my waist and took my hand with the other. I couldn't look him straight in the eye. There might have been moments when we shared a closeness that made my heart soar, but that moment when we were dancing was on a different level.
There was something about slow dancing with someone. Something about the way the music filled your body and soul, and the way two people moved as one. I breathed in the closeness. The warmth. The comfort.
"You're smooth. Not clumsy at all," he whispered. His chest was so firm against mine.
"I'm taking careful steps," I said.
"Hey, relax. I don't mind you stepping on my feet. We're both learning as we go."
Nodding, I closed my eyes and allowed my mind to think that we were the only ones dancing. After about a minute, I began to feel something strange. I looked around and noticed some girls looking in our direction. Michael followed my gaze.
"They're staring at you," he noted.
"No. They're staring at you," I whispered back.
"I believe it's you. All those girls must be jealous of how you look tonight."
My knees almost buckled with surprise at his compliment.
Someone poked me in the ribs, and I suppressed a yelp. As I turned to see my assailant, she exclaimed, "Oh my gosh, you guys are so cute I can't stand it."
"Clover!" I snapped, and she cackled before running away with Clint.
I bit my lower lip and turned my head back to Michael, doing my best to hide the blush heating my cheeks. But Michael looked as affected as I was, having a hard time suppressing his smile and avoiding eye contact. Without a word, he tightened his arm around my waist, and my body temperature rose to the point where I was about to faint.
The memories of the fall inched their way out of the depths of my mind. The first time I saw him. The first time I talked to him. The first time he texted me. The first time he sang to me. The first time we held hands. I had been so nervous, so confused that sometimes I almost couldn't eat my meal. And now there I was, in his arms, bravely taking steps with him.
I loved him. I was young, and adults would probably look at me funny and would shake their heads, but I was sure that I loved him. Despite all the hurt, I still truly loved him. And I vowed never to forget how he smelled like home that night, and how he held me close, and how my heart felt so full—the vow that I still keep to this day.
It almost felt like a tragedy when the music ended. We pulled away from each other, smiled, and stared for a while. Our fingers were touching, just a faint touch of each other's skin, as if we were both questioning whether we should hold on or let go.
"Thank you for the dance," he said.
"I should be thanking you, Michael," was all I could say back as he walked out of the dance area. He glanced at me over his shoulder, giving me a half-smile.
Someone called my name, and I looked around to see Sunny waving at me to come over.
"Girl, you look stunning in that dress," she said as she made me turn around.
"Thanks. So do you," I replied. She was wearing a white dress made of layer upon layer of fine, translucent, delicate cloth—almost like a tutu. The sequins on the skirt formed cute patterns, creating a beautiful contrast with the fabric. Her hair was coiffed gracefully on her head, and with the right touch of makeup, she appeared like an angel.
"Do you like it?" Sunny asked, twirling the skirt like a kid. "I designed this myself."
"You did?"
"Yep. I sketched the dress a long time ago. My aunt loved the idea, so she helped me pick out the materials and then made the dress for me. Oh, and you see these heels?" She showed her white high-heeled shoes. "I added lace to give them a vintage look."
"Wow. That's creative. It's so well put together."
"Thanks!"
"Did someone ask you to dance?" I asked.
"Lance." She grimaced. "Didn't dance with him, obviously. But that's not important. Let's talk about you and him." She pointed at Michael, who was talking with the other guys at a table.
I gave her a weird look. "What's there to talk about?"
Sunny pulled me into a quiet corner and made me sit on a bench with her. "How long have you guys been together? And why didn't you tell me?"
"Wait, no. We're not together like that."
"Seriously? Not yet? But the sparks! They're flying everywhere!"
"Sparks?"
"Oh, you know what I mean. The spark! The electrifying attraction! The chemistry!" She kept flapping her hands like a music conductor. "Everyone saw it. And it's like... he was the prince, and you were the princess. Prince Charming and Cinderella. Ariel and Prince Eric. It's one big fairy—"
"Knock it off," I said with a laugh. Luckily, we were in the shadows, or she would have seen me blushing and my forehead breaking out in a sweat.
The sound of footsteps made us turn. It was a guy a year older than us, and I recognized him as the layout artist in the Chronicle, who kept talking to her about a video game they had been playing. With an anxious smile, he asked Sunny if they could dance. I expected her to turn him down, but she shrugged and said to him, "Sure!" Then to me: "So I'll see you around?"
"Yeah, have fun," I replied, pleasantly surprised.
They joined the crowd. There was a big smile on her face as she danced with him. I wasn't sure she had officially gotten over Finn, but if she was happy, that was all that mattered. Besides, the new guy seemed cute and genuinely into her.
"Oh, Autumn! There you are. Let's go take pictures in the photo booth," Rose shouted at me in the distance.
Taking our group pictures at the photo booth was chaotic. We were laughing so hard while posing because not only was it hard to think of a new pose every five seconds, but also, the six of us barely fit in the camera frame.
After we got our pictures, Nate announced loudly, "I'm hungry."
"You're always hungry," Rose said and waved in the direction of the buffet. "They have catered foods and drinks over there."
"Screw that. It's cafeteria food, and I don't wanna eat cupcakes."
"Same." Clint nodded. "Let's ditch this party and go out for burgers."
"What about the program?" asked Clover. "I heard that the underclassmen were throwing a big surprise for us seniors."
"It's just some long, cheesy speech. We gotta get out of here. Seriously, dances like this bore the hell out of me, I'd rather watch cats sleep." Nate slapped Michael's back and draped an arm over his shoulders. "What do you think, Mikey?"
Michael rubbed the back of his neck. "You guys should go. I think I'm gonna head home."
I was disheartened. His enthusiasm had mysteriously flown out the window.
"What? Nah, man. You're coming. If any of us is missing tonight, this celebration is pointless."
Rose snorted. "Wow. That's cheesy coming from you, Nate. And I thought you hated cheesy speeches."
"If it's cash you're worrying about, I got you," Nate told Michael, hitting his chest with his fist like a superhero.
"Why not just cover the bill for all of us?" Clover suggested, and the rest of us nodded in approval.
"No way! You guys have been roasting me the entire time, so you get nothing from me," Nate barked at us.
"Dude, don't scream in my ears." Michael pushed him away, chuckling. "Anyway, let's go hit the road now. The night doesn't last forever."
──────
We would have stayed at the restaurant if only the tables weren't packed with people, so we ordered takeout. There was a giant bulletin board on the far wall of the establishment, covered with pictures of previous customers. Michael sacrificed his copy of our group's photograph to the bulletin board to immortalize the night. Afterward, Nate drove us to the place where he and his ex-girlfriend had their first date, the speakers of his truck blasting the playlist we often sang to.
We pulled up to St. Paul Tower, a building situated near the seacoast.
"So this is it?" Rose asked, gaping at the giant cross on the roof. "Looks creepy. You sure this is safe?"
"Hundred percent," said Nate. "Lots of folks climb up here to chill or have a picnic."
"Even though it's desolate, I feel like we're trespassing."
"You got that right, Rosie. We're about to trespass into a territory of ghosts."
She gasped. "Ghosts?"
"It's a joke. Calm down. Look, if it scares you, then you can stay here and watch over the truck. Thanks."
Rose looked around and shivered. "Eh... I'd hate to ruin my outfit, but there's no way I'll stay here by myself."
We took careful steps on the stairs until we reached the top. The roof was made of what looked like iron grills that formed a dome, covering the entire floor for safety. The tower wasn't that tall, but it offered a fantastic panoramic view of the city lights and the sea.
We sat on the floor and tilted our heads to the sky. There it was—the naked, uninterrupted, infinite universe. The stars were scattered across the sky, and the bright full moon reflected in the calm waters of the sea. There was an audible sigh, but I didn't check whose it was. One would never get used to the sheer beauty of space.
It was a cold night, but none of us seemed to mind as we munched on burgers and sipped our drinks. Clover took off her heels, stretched her leg out, and wriggled her toes.
"Isn't it nice when all of us are watching the same thing?" she said. "It's giving me a sense of unity."
"I think so, too." Rose nodded. "Hey, isn't this like straight out of a book? Think about it. The six of us going out late at night, driving to a strange place, watching the stars while eating takeout food..."
"I've always wanted to do something like this," I said, looking at the city lights.
Nate grinned smugly and tipped his invisible hat. "You're welcome, ladies and gents. If you need adventure and a relaxing getaway, just call me, your friendly neighborhood driver."
"The gas is completely free, too. Respect." Clint gave him a salute. We laughed.
"You know, guys, moments like this make me wish I could stop time," Clover said. Clint's arm encircled her waist, pulling her against his body, and she rested her head on his shoulder.
Rose glanced at her. "Don't we all?"
"Yeah... because you don't have to worry about anything. You just enjoy it."
We were quiet for a moment, each busy with our own thoughts, until Michael broke the silence. "No use wishing for things that can't happen," he said. "Time continues to move forward. We have to do the same."
Sometimes, the words that came out of his mouth sounded like he was saying goodbye.
Clint hummed in agreement.
"You have a point. It's just that we're like in a hurry, and it sucks, but you have to keep running so you won't get left behind," Clover spoke my thoughts out loud.
"Well, it can't be helped," Nate said with an easy-going shrug. "Final exams and graduation are just right around the corner. We gotta do the stupid stuff while we're still together coz who knows? This might be the last time we ever get to do something like this."
"Sounds depressing as hell," Clint murmured.
"Hey, the stupid stuff can wait till summer. We should concentrate on our exams first because that's our final stretch to the finish line," Rose lectured.
"But we don't know what summer will bring! Right, Michael? You're a Summer, right? What will you bring?" Nate let out a loud chuckle.
The rest of us exchanged baffled looks.
"Was that a joke?" Clover asked.
"That was so stupid," said Rose.
Michael looked at Nate pitifully. "Let's all pretend you didn't say that."
And then we laughed and laughed and talked some more, loudly and silently, until we could no longer form words because our sides hurt and we had trouble catching our breath and tears filled our eyes. At some point, I almost actually sobbed because I was terrified of the possibility that I might never feel something like that again.
The tips of my fingers brushed Michael's skin, and my pulse jumped when he placed his hand on top of mine. No one knew about it except us. It was one of those nights when I was wide-awake, but feeling like I was in a dream.
Soon, we found ourselves yawning too much to talk, so we all agreed to go home. It was almost midnight, and we were driving down the dark highway, the biting wind cutting through the fabric of our clothes. That night, I had never prayed so hard for more time with my friends.
But then again, nothing lasts forever.
My sister and I were the first to be dropped off. We crept around the house, not saying much but smiling. The soles of my feet hurt and my body was beyond tired, but I didn't want to sleep yet. I thought about my first dance, our first dance, and I could still feel everything. The warmth of his hand. The closeness. The comfort.
I would give anything to experience it again.
After a while, my phone buzzed on the study table. I groggily rose to pick it up.
It was a call. From Michael.
"Hello?" I whispered.
"Hey. Uh, sorry for calling you this late. I didn't expect you to pick up, actually, but I'm glad you're still awake." He sounded like he was struggling to speak. Almost like he was shy. "I was, um... I was wondering..."
"Yes?"
"Would you like to hang out this Sunday?"
If I were eating something, I would have choked on it. "Oh... for what?" I had to ask to make sure I wasn't setting my expectations too high.
"There's something I want to say to you."
My heart drummed. "Can't you say it right here?"
"I'd rather talk about it in person. Are you okay with meeting me at four? By the fountain at the park."
I drew in a calming breath. "Wait. This isn't some sneaky evil plot, is it? Like you'll knock me out, drag me into the woods, and abandon me? Is this a prank? Because sometimes, it's hard for me to tell whether you're joking, Michael."
He laughed. "No. We'll talk, simple as that. No pranks whatsoever. And I'm not going to leave you alone, I promise."
"Okay. I will hold you to that," I said, half-sternly and half-laughingly, ever the naïve girl.
"Fine. I'll see you soon, Marmalade."
***
chapter edited as of 12/2025