The Last Time We Met

16

"I can't believe you passed out while we were kissing," Cedric said as he drove to his house.

I smiled wanly. Head aching, I could only be grateful that I hadn't gotten a bloody nose while I was kissing Cedric and passing out. "I'm just tired, I guess. Midnight is way past my bedtime."

Cedric poked me in the ribs. "We gotta get you up to speed. In college, nobody goes to bed before two a.m."

"Seriously?" I grimaced. "That sounds awful."

"Just make sure you don't sign up for any eight a.m. classes, that's all. That's what Maggie told me. Well, her precise words were, eight a.m. classes are the devil. But you know. Same thing."

I hummed my agreement. I didn't want to think about college. College meant Cedric and I wouldn't see each other every day. I was hoping he'd decide to go to UCLA and I'd get into Otis and we'd at least be in the same city. It was a selfish hope, though, now that I knew about Chris and Brent. Chris was ready to support Brent in anything, and I was wanting Cedric to not get into Berkeley so he could be nearby.

"I can't even deal with the fact that we're graduating in five months," I mumbled. I wasn't lying – I really was sleepy.

"You'll deal with it. Especially when I take you to prom. My promposal is gonna be off the hook."

I opened one eye. "Off the hook?"

"What? I'm allowed to use modern slang."

"Sure..."

At Cedric's house, we both got out and met at the front of the car, between the headlights so that the twin beams of light embraced us. The cool night air buzzed with cicadas, and I shivered. Cedric rubbed my arms, then pulled me to his chest. "I love you," he said.

The words always made me smile. I turned and kissed him. "I love you too."

"Be careful driving home. Text me so I know you're safe."

"Okay, Dad."

"Mmm, I like it when you call me daddy."

I laughed, then kissed him again before driving off.

Despite my sleepiness, I lay awake in the dark thinking about Brent. Brent was definitely sick. I knew it as surely as Chris knew it. I wasn't sure why Chris had been so focused on Brent wearing makeup. In my memories, Brent seemed to have perfect, tanned California skin. Aside from being a little thin, he looked healthy. I rolled over and punched my pillow. I wished I could talk to Cedric about what I remembered. He must have known I'd had a memory, especially after what happened at that tattoo shop in LA. But he'd acted like I had passed out from drinking too much, when I hadn't had a single alcoholic beverage.

I vowed to stop thinking about the lives of these other people. It was a new year, a new start. We were living our story and we didn't need to know what happened to these people. They were all dead. That was it.

***

I managed to keep that vow through most of January, and into February. As a photographer, I was tapped by the yearbook committee to take candids, and I spent a lot more time hanging around basketball games and taking photos of events I didn't care about. I was photographing the winter formal, which was doubling as a fundraiser for the Australian bushfires, when Eli started talking about a plague of locusts.

"Like, a biblical plague?" I asked, half paying attention as I stepped away from the couple I'd just photographed, writing their names in my notebook for the caption.