Ashes to Ashes

“DO YOU THINK WE MADE THE RIGHT CALL WITH this font?” I ask. I’m at Alex’s, mounting on an easel the picture of Rennie we had blown up. I picked up the picture of Rennie from the copy shop and brought it right over so we could see how it looked. It’s her senior photo, and at the top it reads Rennie Holtz, Prom Queen In Memoriam in a scripty Edwardian font. “Should we have gone super clean, like, minimalist?”

Alex looks up from untangling twinkle lights. His mom had a bunch left over from his uncle Tim’s wedding, and the guys on prom committee are going to string them up all over the backyard tomorrow morning. “Nah. Rennie’s always liked bling. The fancy font was the right choice.”

“I hope so,” I say. Prom queen was Rennie’s dream. I want it to be just right. After all, homecoming should have been hers.

“Don’t worry, it looks great,” Alex tells me. “It’s exactly what she would have wanted.” Like always, his words have a way of setting me at ease. Which is a feat these days. I hate being at school, seeing Reeve fall apart. I have such crazy anxiety that he’s going to say or do something he won’t be able to take back. Make some kind of scene, like he did at the sports banquet.

Lately it’s been good between us. Almost like old times. I know I don’t have to say anything, but I blurt out, “This year’s been crazy, but the one thing I’m grateful for is that you and I can be friends again. I really missed you, Lindy.” Alex looks taken aback. Before he can say anything, I say, “Wait. I know I haven’t been a good friend to you. I took your friendship for granted, and I led you on because I liked the way you made me feel. You made me feel—so special . . . and I didn’t want that to end. But it was wrong. And I’m sorry, Alex. I’m so sorry.” I hold my breath, waiting for him to answer.

“It means a lot that you’d say that.”

“I mean it.”

“So, then, apology accepted.”

I stare at him. “Just like that?”

“Yeah. We’re cool, Lil. I mean, we’ve been friends for a long time. That counts for something. It does to me, anyway.”

“To me, too.” I lean over and give him the biggest hug I can. Then Alex goes back to the twinkle lights and I say suddenly, “Hey, what do you think about us going to prom together? I don’t have a date, and you don’t have a date, and you know our moms are going to be all about us getting pictures together either way. You don’t even have to buy me a corsage!” Alex takes so long to answer that I add, “As friends, of course.”

At last Alex says, “As friends. Sure. But don’t worry, I’ll still get you a corsage.”

I beam. I feel lighter already. “Then I’ll get you a boutonniere.”