Flat-Out Celeste (20 page)

“You never know,” Luka said. “When the clock strikes midnight, your brother may get bitten by the New Year’s bug and make an unexpected move.”

“That would be unlikely behavior from Matthew. He is not known for impulsive gestures.”

“Impulsive is good,” Justin said. “It means you’re speaking from your gut. Or your heart. Or something like that. Some kind of important body part. Not, like, your elbow or something. Of course, we all enjoy our elbows because they’re good for jabbing people who misbehave, but speaking from one’s elbow doesn’t carry the same weight, right, because we don’t have a lot of feeling there? Fine, we have physical feeling, particularly the funny bone, so I suppose you could speak from your elbow if you’re a stand-up comedian. In any case… um…”

“Impulsivity,” Celeste prompted.

“Right! Being impulsive means you’ve let down your guard and are going after what you want.”

Celeste looked at Matt. Her brother could stand to unleash a little impulsivity. Really, if Celeste could brave this new world of dating and socializing, Matthew could take a few risks of his own.

She would have to work on encouraging this. Later.

For now, she had someone to kiss at midnight.

And when the clock sounded and the room cheered and music blared throughout the house—and she and Justin were in a more secluded hallway out of sight of their parents—she got her kiss. And it was somehow even more delicious than all of the others. In fact, every time they kissed, it was better. Not that they’d had anything but a phenomenal base to start from, but now he tasted more like him. Or more like them. Because she knew him on a deeper level, and she felt him in everything he did. Every move of his hand, every touch of his lips to hers, every breath he took as he whispered in her ear.

When they reluctantly eased apart from each other, Justin lifted her hand in his and started slow dancing in the hall, slowing turning them in a circle.

“Why are we dancing?” she asked.

“Why not? It’s an excuse to hold you, how’s that?”

“I like that excuse very much.” She rested her head on his shoulder. She had never danced with anyone before. “Hey, Justin?”

“Hey, Celeste?”

“You are going back to school soon.”

He paused. “I know. Don’t remind me. But we still have a few weeks.”

“What will happen then? I am unfamiliar with how a situation such as ours should be handled.”

“I think it’s up to us.”

“What is your preference?” She felt nearly sick asking this question.

“My preference is to pack you in my suitcase, but those TSA people are so picky, and there’s some kind of stupid regulation about human trafficking and—”

“Justin. This is serious.”

“I know.” He entwined his fingers in her hair. “Blondie, I don’t like that we’re going to be apart, but we don’t have to feel apart. It’s just physical distance.”

She thought immediately of Matt and Julie and how heinously distance had worked out for them, but she pushed that thought away.

“Am I to understand that I am your girlfriend?” She jerked away from him and put a hand over her eyes. “I apologize. Was that a strange question to ask? I am sure there are unspoken rules about things such as this of which I am unaware, and I should not have… Oh God, this is awful…” She peeked out at him from behind her fingers. “Do not look at me like that. Do not be all understanding and patient. It’s extraordinarily weird that I do not know what to do here.”

“No, no,” he said. “It’s good that you asked me that. You don’t play games, Celeste. I love how honest you are, how you say what you think. And you’re not missing anything here. There’s no set rule that we have to follow. We do what we want. This is between us and only us.”

“I am still embarrassed.”

“I can’t have my girlfriend feeling embarrassed. That won’t do at all.”

Celeste dropped her hand and looked at him fully now.
Girlfriend
. “Really?”

“I mean, if you’d like that.”

“I would.” She said. “I think that I would like that quite a bit.”

“Then, my lady, we shall be boyfriend and girlfriend, and we will figure out the long-distance thing as we go.”

And with that, he encircled her waist and dipped her most formally.

TO THE FUTURE

Justin:
I’m going surfing today! I’ve never been, but I feel sure that I am on the edge of a professional boarding career.

Celeste:
The water will allow you to surf without developing hypothermia now? It’s almost March, lest you have forgotten.

Justin:
What? I thought it was August. August of 1975. Wait, what year is it? Where am I?

Celeste:
Very funny. I was simply concerned for your well-being.

Justin:
And I am super touched and all heartmelty.

Celeste:
“Heartmelty” is not a word, I do not believe.

Justin:
I’m a wordsmith, an inventor of words that should be. And “melty” is a word, didya know that, smartie girl? Ergo, “heartmelty” needed to be invented.

Celeste:
If I recall, Webster’s fell to
pressure and only very reluctantly added “melty” to their lexicon. “Didya” and “smartie,” however, are not… Well, never mind.

Justin:
Celeste!

Celeste:
Okay, fine.

Celeste:
Didya think it is smartie to go surfing in the cold weather?

Justin:
Look at you all sexy with the goofy words. And it’s still warm here, so don’t worry about me. This winter has been unusually gorgeous. It’s almost 80 today. Plus, I’ll be wearing some sort of protective bodysuit thing. Whatever it is that surfers wear. I best get the terminology down for my impending high-profile career. #Sharksbetternotbitemybutt

Celeste:
Please report back with your surf tales. I will be eager to hear. And to know that you are in one piece, without half of you making its way through a shark’s digestive tract. I have lunch now, so I must run.

Justin:
I’ll call you tonight! Surf’s up, dude!

Justin:
Did that sound lame? Probably. Let’s pretend I didn’t write that. I will investigate socially awesome surf talk today.

Celeste:
I would not be opposed should you want to text a photograph of yourself.

Justin:
In my sexy bodysuit?

Celeste:
Perhaps. Then we would be even, you know, since you have seen me in a bodysuit.

Justin:
Don’t think I’ve forgotten that. I’ll see what I can do.

Celeste was becoming quite expert at walking and texting, although evidently her ability to attend to the rest of the world fell to the wayside when Justin was involved. Especially when a wet-suited boyfriend picture might be coming her way.

Boyfriend.

What a colossally glorious word. Not because having a boyfriend met some standard of teen life that she had finally attained. Celeste didn’t much care about that. What she did care about—what moved her heart so dramatically—was that she had Justin in her life. He was the first person with whom she could relax fully. And therefore, life was more vibrant.

In her distraction, Celeste bumped into another student. She quickly apologized, embarrassed at being so lost in boyfriend thoughts that she noticed too late the scene ahead of her.

Finding herself in the hallway of her high school with a swarm of screaming students swarming directly toward her triggered a sharp feeling of dread. Now what? Things had been going so well.

She counted her attackers. Perhaps it wasn’t really a swarm. There were five people. Yet it felt like an out-of-control mob. Something had gone terribly wrong. Her few months of happiness were over. And now, on this Friday afternoon during late February, she was about to be flogged or otherwise assaulted by this group, all waving their arms and hollering at her. “Celeste!” She heard Dallas’s voice rise above the others’. “Celeste, come with us!”

Before she could react, Dallas had grabbed her by the arm and was pulling her along with the whooping crowd toward Mr. Gil’s classroom. Classmates were patting her arms and back, chanting her name…. It was all incredibly disconcerting. Panic inducing, really.

“Dallas, I do not have philosophy class now. I have lunch.” Celeste could hear the tremor in her voice. She was going to run out of air any second, she knew it. “I need to go. I must go now.”

“I know, silly!” Dallas swung open the door, and Celeste was moved forward. “We have lunch for you here.”

Celeste looked into the room. Every person whom she had tutored through college applications was here. Jennifer held a cake, and a stack of pizza boxes sat on Mr. Gil’s desk. She inched forward and looked at the cake. Blue lettering spelled out
Thank you!
Confused, she looked at Dallas. “I do not understand.”

Leighann stepped out from behind her. “We’ve been waiting until we all heard, but it’s official. All of us got into college.”

“Even me!” Zeke piped up. “And into Kenyon at that.”

Celeste gasped. “That was your top choice!”

“I know, right? Top choice
and
a reach.” He threw his arms around her. “And financial aid. You made that happen.”

“What?”

“My application was really strong. They complimented me on my essay. The one you made me redo forty-seven times. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Then she was getting hugs and handshakes and listening to college acceptance stories from everyone there. It was overwhelming.

“Speech!” Mr. Gil broke through the crowd. “Speech, Miss Watkins!”

Soda was poured into red cups, and Celeste did what she could to gather her thoughts. Someone handed her a drink and the room grew silent. She looked to Mr. Gil. He smiled kindly and gave her a supportive nod.

Celeste touched a hand to her heart, trying to compose herself.

“I… I do not know what to say…” She cleared her throat. “This is an honor. I am so very happy for all of you. Tremendously proud. All I did was to help you channel skills that you already had within you.” She paused, suddenly quite emotional. “I do believe that you did the same for me. Thank you for giving me that chance.” It was all that she could bring herself to say. It hit her that all of these new friends, her new level of social comfort, was going to come to an abrupt end upon graduation, less than four months away. She turned to Dallas, who knew—as a friend does—to rescue her.

Dallas raised her cup high. “To Celeste.”

“To Celeste!” the room cheered.

When pizza had been eaten, more thanks offered, and the celebration had started to wind down, Celeste found herself alone with Dallas and Mr. Gil, a few chair-desks pushed together. Her philosophy teacher nibbled on crust. “So, Dallas, where are you going to end up?”

“Yes, where will you study next year? I did not get to hear during the earlier chaos,” Celeste said.

Dallas tried to suppress a smile, but gave up and flashed a full-on beam. “USC. Film school.”

“Oh, Dallas, you did it.” Celeste practically jumped out of her seat. “I am unequivocally thrilled for you. I do think that you will take Los Angeles by the proverbial storm.”

Dallas blushed. “I’m really happy. Really. And you helped me pull together exactly what I needed for the application. I can’t believe it. What about you? Have you decided?”

She fidgeted with a napkin. “I am unsure which to accept.”

Mr. Gil reached for another slice. “Where have you gotten in?”

“Harvard, Wesleyan, Yale, Columbia, Princeton. Um… I can’t recall where else at the moment.”

“Don’t be modest. You got in everywhere you applied, right?” Dallas raised her eyebrows. “Right? C’mon, brag a little.”

The napkin was now shredded. “I did.” She forced a happy tone in her voice. “I don’t know how to pick. This is a hard choice.”

“You’ll figure it out. All good options,” Dallas said.

“Did any California schools make it onto your list?” Mr. Gil asked way too casually.

“What? Cambridge’s own Harvard isn’t good enough for her?” Dallas said, laughing.

He waved his hand. “No, no, it’s not that. I was just curious.”

“I am not one for flying,” Celeste confessed. She did not want him to think her ungrateful, as she knew he was the one who had spoken to Barton about her. “But I appreciate the interest that I’ve had from west coast schools.”

“Ah, well, not wanting to fly could be a problem. In any case, I’m very happy for you both, and I’ll miss you next year.” He stood. “I’m going to get a head start on grading some essays, but the room is yours as long as you like it. And these are for you.” He slapped two small papers onto the desk. “A couple of passes to keep you free for another period. Benefits of being my favorite students. It’s a half day today anyhow. Enjoy it.”

“Yes!” Dallas clapped her hands in the air. “Best. Day. Ever.”

Even Celeste, who was not one to be in favor of skipping classes, felt that she would not mind missing a class today. Just for once.

“You girls have fun. And congratulations to both of you.” Mr. Gil grabbed yet another slice of pizza and made his way out.

Dallas leaned in. “Okay, now that the teacher is gone, tell me what’s up with you and Justin?”

“Our relationship is…” Celeste didn’t know how to explain how perfect it felt without sounding trite. How she missed him every second of the day, but how they stayed in touch so much that she felt as if he were here. She sighed, more dreamily than she would have liked. “He’s just stupendous. He is not only a suitable first boyfriend, but a rather ideal one at that. Our phone conversations are quite wonderful, his emails detailed and engaging, and every morning he sends me a coffee picture.”

“He sends you a picture of his coffee?”