Everything That Makes You(19)

The doorbell rang before she could mess it all up.

"David's here." Her mother came in, all smiles.

Here's where the mother gets teary-eyed and says "Oh, you've grown into such a young lady!"

"You both look lovely," her mom said, looking from Gwen to Fiona.

Fiona muttered thanks. "Isn't her hair pretty?" Gwen said, gesturing to Fiona.

Her mom nodded. "It is."

Her eyes are glistening.

"Let's get this over with," Fiona said, clomping down the stairs in as unladylike a manner as possible.

It felt silly, how Ryan, David, and her father beamed up at her and Gwen  as they came downstairs. Mr. Doyle kissed her head, his eyes  glistening, too.

"You look really pretty," David said.

Fiona picked at her dress. "You don't have to say-Ow!"

Lucy stood beside her, pinching her arm. "Just say thank you," she hissed.

"Thank you," Fiona mumbled.

Five painful minutes later, Fiona, David, Ryan, and Gwen left the house,  blinking from the camera flashes. Fiona and David slid in the backseat,  Ryan and Gwen up front. Her brother couldn't keep his eyes off Gwen-or  wipe that stupid grin off his face.

"I like your dress," David said.

Fiona frowned down at herself. "It's not too much?"

He wrapped his hand in hers. "No. It's nice."

Prom was at The Peabody, a fancy old hotel downtown-grand piano,  enormous lobby fountain, gilded ceiling, the works. In the ballroom,  Fiona and David caught up with friends, and she couldn't help herself  from taking part in the ritual she had dreaded. Yes, I love your dress.  Your hair looks great like that. Your earrings are awesome. When David  wanted to get pictures, she didn't argue, just let him drag her around.  When she wanted to dance, he did the same.

Halfway in, when David pleaded for a break, they wandered to the  refreshment table. David got her a drink and excused himself for the  bathroom. Fiona waited for him, and someone tapped her on the shoulder.

"Looking good, partner."

Oh, how easily the traitorous flutters returned. Trying to keep her  cool, she gestured to Trent's tux. "You too. Who knew a gentleman was  hiding under that lacrosse uniform?"

Trent laughed. "Don't tell anybody."

"Secret's safe with me," she said. Where had she kept this easygoing banter hidden all these years? It could have come in handy.

He took a sip of punch. "Heard you're going to Northwestern."

His eyes should be illegal. She nodded. "You?"

"Ole Miss. Not the greatest lacrosse team, but they gave me money, and it's only an hour away."

And full of girls who will admire you from afar. "That's cool," she said.

"I should get back. Just wanted to say hey."

"Hey." She put forth her best smile.

"Hey," he repeated, smiling back. "By the way, your hair looks good like that."

Okay, Gwen is forgiven. David walked up, and Trent gave him a friendly  nod. "Don't lose touch with the soil, Doyle," he said and walked away.

"What did he want?" David asked.

"To say hey," Fiona answered. She cast a last look in Trent's direction  before finishing her drink and dragging David-your boyfriend, she  reminded herself-back onto the dance floor.

Juniors and seniors crammed the dance floor until the band left the  stage. By the end of the night, nearly every one of them was a sweaty  mess.

When it was time to go, Ryan smirked at her. "Well, look who had fun."

She shoved him. "It wasn't terrible."

David's arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. "What wasn't terrible?"

"I'll get Gwen," Ryan said. "Meet you at the car in ten minutes."

"What wasn't terrible?" David repeated, spinning her around to face him.

"Nothing. Brother-sister thing."

David eyed her for a moment before leaning in to kiss her.                       
       
           



       

Fiona wasn't an advocate of public kissing-unlike Ryan and Gwen-but  she'd already thrown all her other rules out the window. So she wrapped  her arms around David's neck and kissed him back.





FI


Ryan eyed his watch. "Fi, I gotta get Gwen."

Fi clenched her jaw and glared at the clock on the mantel. They'd  planned this for a month. Prom would be huge and public, and it took  Marcus weeks to convince his parents. After all that, he just forgot?  "Where the hell is he?" she said.

"Language, Fi." Her mom sat beside her, realigning the pleats on her dress. "Are you sure he knew the right time?"

Fi held up her phone, showing her mother the string of Prom Planning texts.

From two days ago:

Fi: Be here at six and the three of us will get Gwen.

Marcus: K

Fi: I plan on looking awesome.

Marcus: I too shall look awesome.

From yesterday:

Marcus: Mom says I'm supposed to know the color of your dress?

Fi: Pink, but not pink-pink, more like melon.

Marcus: Cantaloupe?

Fi: Is that the pink kind?

Marcus: And the delicious kind.

Fi: You can eat cantaloupe?

Marcus: Can and do. See you tomorrow at six.

From today:

Fi: I was right. I look awesome.

Fi: Forgot to tell you-there's a party after. Think you can go?

Fi: This isn't like a wedding. We're allowed to talk.

Fi: Where are you?

In addition to the texts, she'd called him five times. She never got an answer.

Shaking his head, Ryan grabbed the keys from the table. "Sorry, Fi-I need to go."

"Go on. Have fun," their dad said.

Fi got up and paced the length of the living room, saying "Where is he?" over and over.

"It's certainly not like him," said her mom. "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation."

Fi was about to say someone better have died when her phone rang.  Glimpsing Marcus's name on caller ID, she lunged for it. "Where are  you?"

"It's Jackson."

"Jackson," she snapped, furious. "This is my prom. Do you have to mess with it?"

"Marcus asked me to call. He's in the hospital." He named the hospital  and room number. "Visiting hours end in forty-five minutes, so if you  want to see him, you better get down here."

He hung up. She stared blankly at her phone before relaying Jackson's  message to her parents. They assaulted her with questions-Why? What  happened? Is he okay?

Fi had no answers, so the three of them drove to the hospital to get some.

Once at the hospital, her mom took over, and Fi said a rare prayer of  thanks for her mother's bossy streak. After getting directions to the  room and leading the way, she paused in front of Marcus's door and  pointed to a seating area down the hall. "We'll be down there," her mom  said. "Take your time."

Numbly, Fi pushed open the heavy wooden door, behind which a paler than  normal Marcus lay on the bed. Tubes snaked between him and the three  beeping machines at his side. He smiled sadly. "So that's what a  cantaloupe dress looks like."

She looked down at herself. She totally forgot she was dressed for prom.

"I'm so sorry I messed up tonight." He gestured for her to come closer. "You look beautiful."

A stupid dance was the least of her worries. "What's going on? Why are you in here?"

"It's not a big deal. They just want to run some tests. I'd hoped to  push it off. I mean, it's your senior prom." He groaned this last bit,  talking more to the ceiling than her. Then he frowned at his tubes. "I  was overruled."

"Did you eat something you're not supposed to?"

"Uh, not exactly," he muttered.

Okay, somewhere, she'd missed a critical piece of information. "Why do you need tests?"

Just then, the door swung open, and Jackson walked in. He gave the  briefest of nods in her direction before turning to Marcus. "Results  won't come till Monday. You have to stay."

Marcus groaned. "That's two nights. Seriously?"

"Well, maybe it wouldn't be two nights," Jackson barked, "if you mentioned feeling like crap a little earlier."

Marcus held up a hand to interrupt him, then winced.

Fi jumped. "Are you okay?"

Marcus held out both hands, slowly, as if to say Stay calm. "I'm fine. It's just the IV. It tugged on my skin."

Fi tracked the line of the tube dangling from his skin to the clear  plastic bag suspended over his head. "Why do you have an IV?"

"Standard procedure, I think."                       
       
           



       

It was like she'd walked out of a movie and come back ten minutes after  the good guy figured out who the bad guy was. "Standard procedure for  what?"

"For heart failure," Jackson answered.

She shrieked "What?" as Marcus snapped, "Leave it alone, Jackson."

Jackson ignored his brother and spoke directly to Fi. "There's this little thing Marcus hasn't told you. He's dying."