Page 62 of Strange Love

The stars twinkled above us, casting a soft glow over our secluded spot. Everything feels perfect and right with the world.

“I can feel how happy you are,” she teases, her voice light and playful. “Which reminds me,” she says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “We haven’t had the sex talk.”

“What do you want to talk about?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I’d like to have sex with you,” she blurts out. “I’m ready, and I want to. But I feel like you want to hold off,” she responds.

A pang of guilt shoots through me. She is partly right. I want her more than anything, but knowing I’m leaving makes it more complicated.

“That’s not it at all,” I assure her. “I just want the timing to be right.”

She looks at me intently, her expression unreadable for a moment.

“I know,” she says, “But you’re gonna have to give it up soon,” she says with a sly smile, pulling me in for a deep kiss.

At that moment, I realized I want nothing more than to make her happy. Then, a thought enters my mind, and I can’t help but bring it up.

“Have you thought more about what you will do after graduation?” I ask tentatively.

Her lips pause against mine before pulling away slightly. For a moment, I think she might open up and share her thoughts with me, but instead, she replies with a nonchalant, “Nope, not too much,” before kissing me again, signaling that she still doesn’t want to talk about this subject.

Chapter 36

“Waiting for a Star to Fall”

Ivy - Age 18, 1989

My sister’s voice rings out excitedly as I try on another dress, the sixth one today. I turn to her, questioning the fit.

“Do you think it looks good? Maybe it’s a little too fluffy around the hips?”

She practically screams with delight, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“Not even!” she exclaims. “I can’t wait until I get to go to prom,” she says wistfully, lost in her dreams of the perfect night.

Mom joins in, adding her approval. “It’s very flattering, Sweetheart.”

I turn to face myself in the full-length mirror, studying my reflection. The royal blue satin strapless dress hugs my curves and ruffles delicately at the hips, falling just above my knees. It’s cute, but I’m not sure if it’s me. Then again, I’ve never worn formal wear before, so who am I to know what suits me best?

Nat chimes in, saying that this color is perfect for me and will be easy for Corey to match with his tie and cumberbund. I hear the curtain slide from the changing room next door as Sascha emerges in her signature color, black, but with a unique twist. Her spaghetti strap satin dress is adorned with a layer of beautiful purple lace, adding a delicate touch to her usual bold style.

And then there’s Kerri, stepping out in a bright yellow dress that matches the vibrancy of her personality. But it doesn’t quite fit against her pale skin and reddish hair. We all agree that the green dress she had on earlier suited her better, and she nods in agreement.

I’m surprised Kerri decided to go to the dance with Landry, but she made it clear they were going as friends. Sascha reluctantly agreed to attend solely because Sarah would be there, providing her with a buffer from Taz. It’s funny how living together hasn’t softened their relationship; if anything, it has only heightened their tension.

We’re excited about the big night despite any lingering doubts or anxieties. We have plans to dress up, ride in a lavish limousine (courtesy of Corey’s stepfather), have dinner at a fancy restaurant, and then attend the dance. Kerri’s family generously offered their barn as a location for an after-party, where we will spend the night. Of course, her grandparents will be checking in on us periodically, reminding us that this is our first taste of adulthood.

After picking out our dresses, we go to the florist to order boutonnieres for the boys. My mom also insists on getting one for Taz so he “doesn’t feel left out.” I can’t imagine Taz feeling left out, but it’s a kind gesture nonetheless.

We continue browsing the mall for the perfect accessories and jewelry to complete our looks. Eventually, we end up at the tuxedo shop, where the guys try different styles. Corey and Landry confirm what color dresses Kerri and I are wearing as we peruse the shop. They’ve finalized their rental choices by the time we catch up with them at the cash register. They carefully choose colors and patterns that coordinate with our dresses, except for Taz, who boldly opted for a purple crushed velvet tuxedo that somehow matches Sascha’s dress, despite him not knowing what she’d be wearing. The irony isn’t lost on us, especially Sascha, who storms out of the tuxedo shop muttering under her breath.

Before heading home for the day, we grab some food from the bustling food court.

“Prom is one week away,” Kerri exclaims. “I can’t believe how quickly this year has passed.”

“You’ve barely been here for a few months, and yet it feels like you’ve been with us all along,” Taz jokes.

“But she’s right,” I chime in. “A few months ago, I was standing in front of the school with my cherry Pop-Tart, trying to be invisible and blend into the background.” Corey squeezes my hand under the table.