After a short speech, the vice principal called each honor roll student to the stage to shake hands and get a photograph taken.
"Lake Kaplan," he announced. She stood, her strappy, loose dress flowing around her legs as she walked by me. She had red marks on her knees and thighs where she'd crossed her legs. I was tempted to reach out and smooth away that redness until it was white again. To tuck the strands of her hair that'd come loose back where they were supposed to go. She climbed the steps at one side of the stage and uncurled her fists to accept a certificate. Behind the podium, a row of students had formed.
All at once, I felt Tiffany's glare. "Do you always look at seventeen-year-old girls that way?" she asked.
She'd said it softly, but not so softly that her parents might not hear. I leaned into her and whispered, "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"You're practically drooling."
"Don't be ridiculous. She's your sister."
Tiffany narrowed her eyes. "I wasn't talking about Lake."
I swallowed down my irritation. It wouldn't do an ounce of good to make a scene here. Fact was, Lake was the most conservatively dressed of all the girls, and if I hadn't been so distracted, I probably would've looked at them. Thin and beautiful, they stood in a row as the vice principal spoke about their accomplishments, California beach girls with tans, mile-long legs, and golden hair, even though we were still a couple months from summer.
Why had it been Lake who'd captured my attention that day on the site and hadn't let it go since? I was grateful I didn't see these other girls and feel stirred the way I did for Lake, but at that moment, I wished it was anyone but her. I wished I'd never fucking met her.
I just didn't wish it enough to walk away for good.
After the ceremony, in the parking lot, Charles announced, "We're going to dinner to celebrate."
Even Cathy looked surprised. "We are?"
"Manning and I have plans," Tiffany said, even though we didn't.
"Cancel them. This is important."
"Oh, let them go," Cathy said. "Lake makes honor roll and student of the month every year. It's not as if it's her first time."
"I made reservations at the Ritz-Carlton in Dana Point," Charles said.
The girls gasped. "Really?" Tiffany asked. "It's so fancy."
"I'm aware." He smiled a little. "Lake's worked hard this year. I just want us all to take a night to recognize that."
"We recognize it every day," Tiffany said, but when her mom eyed her, she added, "but I guess tonight's a big deal."
"How come I didn't know about this?" Cathy asked.
"It was last minute. The hotel manager is an old friend and squeezed us in." He put his arm around Lake and nodded at me. "You two'll meet us there? Tiffany knows the way."
As we got in the car, Tiffany sighed. "I don't want to go."
"We have to," I said as I pulled onto Highway One.
I expected a rebuttal but got silence instead, which meant she was genuinely upset. I kept my left hand on the wheel and massaged her neck with my right. Touching her was becoming normal, automatic. I wasn't all that affectionate by nature, but Tiffany loved when I was. When she wasn't feeling well, a small touch went a long way. "Why don't you want to go?"
"I'm tired. It was a long day at work. I just want to go home and be with you."
"All right." I slowed for a stoplight. "What's the real reason?"
She looked over at me a few moments, then curled into the seat to face me, nuzzling my hand. "It's just like a constant barrage."
"What is?"
"All of it. I never made the regular honor roll, forget the principal one. Never had the grades to even apply to USC. Every time my parents make a huge deal of Lake's success, it just feels like they're pointing out everything I didn't do."
"You know they're not," I said. "They're just proud of Lake and they aren't thinking about how it might make you feel."
"That's almost worse," she said. "It's like I'm not even there."
The light changed. I squeezed her shoulder and took my hand back to steer. "They're just caught up in the moment. Your dad's wanted this for so long."
"Another assistant manager position opened up this week," she admitted. "I wasn't going to say anything, but . . ."
"Why not?"
"I didn't want you to be disappointed if I didn't get it."
"I wouldn't be disappointed as long as you tried. I bet there are a lot of people at the store who don't even have the guts to do that."
"Well, I might be one of them." She sat up straighter. "I mean, why should I bother? They didn't give it to me before, even though I'm one of the top salespeople in my department. They want to promote people who're more qualified on paper so they can keep moving them up into corporate positions. It's bullshit."