TWO BRAINS, ONE HEART
BY
BOB WRIGHT
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Initially, I hadn't planned on going any further than the conclusion of First Prize when I finished writing that, but as time has ticked by, the more I've found I've wanted to continue things just a little further. I hope this attempt at an epilogue of sorts is to your liking. If you have not read First Prize before you've decided to read this, it might be helpful to do so, so that you know exactly where everything is coming from with this.
Again, The Breakfast Club and all related characters and indicia are registered trademarks of Universal City Studios and the John Hughes estate. All lyrics are trademarked by their respective copyright holders. And so, forward we go again...
THREE WEEKS LATER...
It wasn't an overly impressive house at first glance. Sure, it was as large as many of the houses he'd seen in pretty much every middle class neighborhood of every suburban Chicago community he'd ever traveled through, but, to be honest, he had almost been expecting something-well, grander. And yet, despite its relatively unassuming appearance from his position in his car, parked now just a little beyond directly out front of it, it still seemed grand to Brian. So grand, in fact, that he felt unworthy to get out of the car and enter, even though he had the invitation to.
He glanced at his watch for what had to be the fifth time in the last seven minutes since he'd pulled up to the house. He was still technically on time, but somehow, something was keeping him glued to the driver's seat, preventing him from going up to the door and ringing the bell. Somehow, no matter how much her face drifted through his mind, he couldn't shake the feeling the whole thing had been an illusion, and he was only setting himself up for a fall if he took the bait.
He closed his eyes, trying to somehow get up the courage. It had seemed like only yesterday the events of the finals of the Simmons Academic Challenge had played themselves out. But of everything that had come out of that night, it was his encounter with Melissa that had most hung with him. Stunningly beautiful Melissa Winters of Lake Forest Central, whom he'd glimpsed in passing every previous year in the tournament, but had never come face to face with until then. All through the match, he'd told himself she wouldn't want anything to do with someone like him, that he stood no chance with her at all. And yet, when he'd awakened in the hospital after having been found just in time before he'd frozen to death on a lonely rooftop, there she'd been, gratefully telling him that if he hadn't been on the stage with her, she would have killed herself after the match, and had shown him the poison she'd brought for the attempt to prove it. And then all his dreams had come true when she'd asked him out to the prom. The kiss she'd given him before she'd left still lingered on his cheek to a degree; he could still feel it somehow. It was like a fairy tale come true for him...so much so that he'd increasingly begun to wonder if it had actually happened, or if so if everything she'd told him was accurate. True, when he'd called her up earlier in the week, she'd been thrilled to hear from him, and had asked him to come over this evening, which by chance happened to be her birthday. But part of him couldn't help wondering with increasing frequency if she'd really meant it that she loved him, as she inferred. After all, his former detention colleagues had admitted they talked to her before he'd come to; he knew there was always the possibility they'd told her to say most of what she'd said to cheer him up. And the unreality factor also weighed on his mind; could she REALLY have fallen in love that quickly, having never spoken to him face to face before that fateful moment? And then there was the simple matter of who he was; the brain simply never had the happy ending, that much he knew from painful personal experience. Thus, as he stared towards the house again, a large part of himself felt that if he walked through that door, his heart would be severely broken in a simple matter of time; it just felt inevitable...
His cell phone rang, interrupting his train of thought. He fumbled with it before he could activate it. "Yes?" he said breathlessly into it.
"So are you there yet?" it was his best friend, sounding as excited as Brian could imagine. "Yes, Matt, I'm right out front now," he told him.
"Well, go on in, then; I'm sure she's eager to..."
"Matt, I don't know how to tell you this, but..."
"Oh come on, don't chicken out now, Brian. She wants you; she told you that outright, remember?"
"Yes, I remember; the point is, how much did she really mean? I know you had a few words with her too, and you've been bent on setting me up with someone, anyone for the prom for at least three months now. If it isn't real deep down, if this was just a setup by you and the others...well, what I'm also saying, you know as well as I do there's a thousand and one ways I could blow this before the night's over and kill anything we could possibly have..."
"Brian, just stop putting yourself down for once in your life," Matt told him emphatically, "The two of you belong together; you earned her love and you know it. There's nothing to be afraid of; just walk up to the door and ring the bell. You're going to have the best evening of your life tonight with her, but only if you stop holding yourself back. Trust me on this, she needs you as much as you need her. Now go on and be happy, and you can tell me all about it in the morning. Have fun."
"Well..." Brian was cut off as Matt hung up. He took a deep breath. Matt was certainly right about one thing; he couldn't sit there in the car all night. Sooner or later, he had to get out and go up to the door; better it be now than later.
With a deep gulp, he picked up the pair of presents he'd wrapped up for her on the passenger seat. He'd thought out what she might want for her birthday carefully, but somehow he couldn't help feeling they still wouldn't be acceptable enough for her. He'd find out one way or another soon enough. He slowly inched step by step up the walkway and onto the porch. His finger trembled as he reached for the bell and pressed down on it. In ten seconds, it cracked open. "Can I help you?" asked a tall slender woman with long black hair and red glasses.
"Um, uh, yeah, I, uh, I'm here for Melissa," he stammered out.
"I'm sorry, she's not in right now," the woman shook her head.
"I, I understand," his heart crashed to his feet; it had been a setup after all, and he'd been left with egg on his face, "Well, thank you anyway; I'll be going then..."
"You must be Brian," she said, making him stop as he'd been walking off the porch, "Melissa went down to the supermarket; she should be back within five minutes. Won't you come in, then?"
She opened the door wide for him. "Oh, uh, thank you," it took him a few seconds to recover, "So she did mention me then, I guess?"
"Mention you? It seems you're all she talks about anymore," the woman smiled, "I'm her mother, as you probably guessed; Ted, Brian's here," she called into the kitchen, which was filled with balloons and several Happy Birthday signs. A heavyset man in a plaid shirt was seated at the table, reading the newspaper. "So you're Brian, then," he too smiled as the boy entered and shook his hand firmly, "I'm so glad to finally meet you face to face."
"Nice to meet you too, Mr. Winters," Brian returned the smile as best he could. Deep inside his stomach was churning; if he blew it with her parents, it could all go out the window before she ever got back from the store. "So, uh, Mr. Winters, what exactly is it you do?" he asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice, "Melissa never did tell me..."
"Surprised she hasn't gotten around to it yet, since I bring her up with pretty much all my customers. I run a hardware store in downtown Lake Forest," Mr. Winters explained, "And if you're looking to earn any extra money while you're in college, I'd be more than happy to have you over the summer as a clerk or any other position you'd want."
"I, uh, appreciate that, sir," he was rocking from side to side, sweating, "I'll, um, give it some thought between now and graduation. Uh, yeah, you should be proud of Melissa, it's, it's clear she's a hard worker and she earned her place on the Simmons team all these years, I must say."
"We've always been proud of her," Mrs. Winters nodded. She sat down at the table and stared right at him, her expression becoming both pained and grateful. "And Ted and I want to tell you while you're here, Brian, thank you for being there that night," she told him, "If it wasn't for you..."
"Well, uh, I don't really think I did anything to be called a hero," Brian confessed, "I, I do believe what she told me about what she was, uh, thinking of doing, but, well, I never intended to...I mean, if I'd known what she was planning, but obviously she didn't tell anyone...what I'm saying is, I guess, I'm no hero, at least not that way; I didn't really do anything..."
"Melissa means the world to us," Mr. Winters put a hand on his shoulder, "Carol and I, we can't imagine..." he started sniffing, "Melissa didn't tell you where she got that poison, did she?"
"Uh, no sir."
"She came into the store after school that day like she always does," her father said solemnly, his head bowing, "When I checked up the inventory before I left, I noticed several packets of rat poison missing from the shelves in the back. I'd thought some kids might have shoplifted; I never would have thought she might have..." he tried to suppress a sob, "If she'd taken that poison...I don't know how I'd be able to live with myself, that I essentially would have provided her with the way to end her life. I couldn't live with that at all. So Brian," the smile returned as he looked up, "Perhaps you didn't really do much outright in the end, but the fact is, my daughter's still alive today because she saw you were going to the same college as her for the same major and realized she wasn't as alone in the world as she'd thought. So in my book, you are a hero, no questions asked."
"Th-thanks, sir," Brian couldn't stop himself from blushing, "Uh, she is doing better, isn't she?"
"I haven't seen her this happy in a long time," her mother admitted, "In fact, before she met you, I can't remember the last time she'd smiled so often. She'd taken to spending long stretches of time in her room after she got back from school. Her father and I assumed she was just studying hard, maybe that she had a little senioritis. Maybe if..." it was her turn to bow her head, "...if we'd looked closer, we'd have seen it was outright depression and done something to help her before it ever got to what it almost got to. Now, she's out and about more often, and she seems to actually be looking forward to..."
The front door could be heard opening. "I'm home, Mom," came Melissa's voice. Every muscle in Brian's body locked up; while he seemed to be doing well so far, he could still blow it face to face with her, he knew with a shiver. Her face, lovelier than a whole field of flowers, lit up, however, when she entered the kitchen, clutching a pair of grocery bags. "Oh Brian, you're here," she exclaimed, a huge smile spreading on her face, "I'm so glad to see you again. Are those for me?" her eyes drifted to the presents he'd brought on the table.
"Uh, uh, yeah, um, hap-happy birthday, Melissa," his hands were shaking as he extended the packages towards her, "I, uh, well, I didn't really know what to get you specifically," he turned away, knowing in the pit of his stomach that any minute now everything was about to come crashing down to reality, and he was going to get the rejection that was inevitable for every brain who dared to dream, "And, well...I, uh, I figured purple was your favorite color, since that's what the dress you wore the night of the competition was, so, I...I hope you're not..."
"Flowers," she sounded choked up; indeed, there were tears of joy in her eyes as she took out the bouquet of a dozen purple irises he'd bought at the greenhouse out on Tottoa Lane, "You actually got me flowers. Oh Brian, what can I say?" she hugged him, "This was so sweet of you; I never thought I'd ever get flowers from anyone. And yes, purple is my favorite color, so you were even right about that. What else do you have here?"
She opened the next package. "A calculator," she hefted the Texas Instruments model inside.
"I, uh...that was the best thing I could think of," he admitted, "You probably have a calculator already, I'm guessing, so it's probably not the best I could have done..."
"It's more than good enough for me. And chocolates," she exclaimed at the sight of the box underneath it, "I never thought I'd see them from someone either. Thank you so much," she hugged him again, "I really, really appreciate this, Brian."
"Glad to have helped, then," the nervousness was starting to subside a little, given that she seemed accepting and grateful of his gifts. "Uh, you ready to go, then? I know we're a little early, but..."
"Then why the rush? Come on," she took his hand, "I have a few things I want you to see first that I don't usually get to show many people."
"Lead on, then," he said, glancing at his watch again. They did admittedly have quite a bit of time to work with, so this wasn't going to be a problem at all. "So, how does it feel to be a champion?" Melissa asked him as she led him upstairs.
"Huh? Oh, oh, the competition, yeah. Actually, yeah, it's been great for my team; we interviewed with the Sun-Times last Thursday..."
"And I cut out the article when they published it," Melissa smiled, "You should be proud of what you did, like my teammates told you in the hospital. No one ever came back against us once they were down that much, and you were the driving force behind the comeback, so you did win the match in a way even if we still won in the end."
"So they said. And it's felt good at school too; for once, we brains were the center of attention from everybody," he smiled at that pleasant thought, "And some of the other schools that were in the tournament contacted us saying we'd given them back hope they could win it some day, so it looks like we did good for the rest of the suburban Chicago school districts too-of course, no disrespect to Lake Forest Central or you, since you clearly earned this and your other wins. But anyway, I never thought I'd say this, but it looks like we achieved as much losing that match as we might have if we'd won."
"See, now you're looking at it better," she told him, "In the meantime, they've been up in arms at LFC; the faculty's trying to figure out what went wrong that we almost lost the match after we seemed to have it in hand. But enough about that; welcome to my humble abode."
She gestured him inside her room. The first thing Brian couldn't help noticing, apart from the myriad awards from almost every single grade on the wall and her three previous Simmons trophies on the shelf, was the large star chart of the Northern Hemisphere on the ceiling over Melissa's bed, with the constellations and planets thoroughly mapped out. "So I see you're really into astronomy," he remarked.
"I have been since I was five," Melissa told him, leaning over a telescope in fact set up at the window to turn on her desk lamp, "My father got me a telescope for Christmas that year. We'd spend nights out on the roof just staring up at the stars and planets, and it wasn't long before I was completely hooked. For a while I even wanted to be an astronaut, but after realizing the rigors the job would probably entail, I figured I'd be better off behind the scenes, and designing rockets became what I really wanted to do most. Here, let me show you what I've been working on lately."
She eagerly pulled open her desk drawer and pulled out several drawings. "I've been trying to calculate how much thrust it would take to get us to Mars," she explained to him, pointing to the topmost drawing, "Maybe by the time we graduate from college, they'll be accepting applications for designs for a Martian project. I'm thinking a five stage rocket, with the first stage to get us out of the Earth's atmosphere, two to get us to Mars itself, and two to get us back, would probably work the best. Now part of this is predicated on whether or not algae becomes common as a green fuel; if it does, and it proves effective, I think it should provide a pretty good boost in the solid boosters here."
"Hmm, that's an interesting thought," Brian mused, intrigued, "Of course, you do know they'll probably have to do some tests to make sure algae fuel works in a vacuum. But I do think you're off to a good start here, and they should probably give it a look. Maybe if one of our professors in college has some connections..."
"That would be great," Melissa nodded as she put the drawings back in the drawer, "So," she turned to him, "You do have the dinner place locked up?"
"Yeah, I did make the arrangements; my friends are going to be there too, so you'll get to meet them more formally," the mention of the Club triggered the internal fear that they'd arranged the evening in conjunction with her again. He had to get the question out of the way once and for all now, he reasoned; better to get burned now than later. "Melissa," he spoke up haltingly, "I, uh, I have to ask...I'm, I'm glad you appreciate the birthday gifts I brought, but...I...I have to ask...is it really love you feel for me?"
"Why?" she frowned, "Why do you have to ask that, Brian? I thought you knew it by now..."
"I hope I know it," he confessed, "But...I can't help...it's just...what we've had before this, it's not usually how a relationship comes together. You didn't even know me before that night, and, well, everything you heard about me came from second hand sources-my friends, I know they feel sorry I was the only one who didn't find love in detention with them; they'd do anything to set me up with someone, anyone. In fact, there's a lot you don't know about me," he bowed his head, knowing he had to get what he was going to say next out if there was any chance of having a perfect relationship with her, "There was someone else, for just one night, up in Niagara Falls...I thought it was going to be the only chance I'd ever get, and to be honest, it wasn't satisfying at all. I'm sorry if this makes you think any less of me; I couldn't blame you if it did..."
"Brian," she put a hand on his shoulder, "Why can't you just give yourself a chance with me? Matt told me when I spoke with him in the hospital you might be hard on yourself; I never thought you'd be this hard. Listen, Brian, we all make mistakes from time to time. And you should know I appreciate that you're willing to be honest with me about it. If it makes you feel any better, and I sincerely hope it does, I've done things I'm not proud of too."
"Well, nothing as bad as what I just said or bringing a gun to school, I'm sure..."
"In sophomore year, I shoplifted a twelve hundred dollar diamond necklace from a downtown jewelry store," she confessed, her face heavy with guilt. Brian nearly fell over in shock. "Yeah," she nodded solemnly, "All the girls were getting ones like it for the Valentine's Day formal. I so wanted to fit in and thought I might have a chance to be noticed by some of the more popular boys if I had it, so I swiped it when no one was looking in the store and buried it in my book bag. There were no metal detectors, so they never knew who took it, and besides, who would suspect a perennial honor student of outright theft? But it didn't work out the way I'd hoped even though I'd gotten away with it; even though I wore it at the dance, none of the boys paid attention to me anyway. And I just felt horrible afterwards about having stolen it, just horrible, and I was too scared to tell anyone, afraid everyone would turn on me for good. So one night, I slipped out after my parents were asleep, rushed back to the store, and slipped it back through the night deposit box. Apparently they just took it with no questions asked, given they could easily have traced it back to me with my fingerprints all over it. Maybe they did a background check and decided I was too clean to bother with, even though I deserved to be punished for it..."
She sighed deeply and put her hands over her face. "Why do people think we have so much easier lives because we're smarter?" she lamented to him, "Especially as I've gotten older, I've just felt more and more...just..."
"Trapped," Brian nodded; he knew the feeling all too well, "You feel you have to keep delivering each and every time, and that no one will care about you if you don't have a perfect score; that's how I thought my parents would react for years. That's what drove me to run out after the match the night we met; I thought no one wanted anything to do with me anymore after losing the match for our side. There's just pressure everywhere, from everyone, even ourselves, and you feel you'd give anything just to be normal, to just be able to live without worrying about getting every answer on every test right. So, if I'm not getting too personal for you," he looked her in the eye, "I guess it wasn't just the fear of college and the real world that made you decide to poison yourself, right?"
Melissa nodded softly. "There've been times I've just hated everything about myself, that I've just felt cursed with who I am," she told him, grimacing, "That if I was just average like it seems everyone else is, I'd be happier. The only time I did try and ask a boy out in freshman year, he glared at me and told me point blank, 'What makes you think I'd want anything to do with a nerd like you?' I cried pretty much the rest of the day, and apart from the dance I mentioned before, I've spent every one since at home feeling completely alone. Whenever I'd go to the Homecoming games and watched the queen roll by in the car with the king, I'd want to give anything to switch places with her and be someone special that all the boys would want to go out with. But none of them see me apart from the report cards. None of them try. And that's where you're so wonderfully different, Brian."
She took his hand. "I meant what I told you in the hospital; you are the first boy who ever told me face to face that I'm beautiful," she told him, her smile returning, "And how could I not appreciate someone who'd give me flowers and candy out of the sheer goodness of his heart?" she held them up again, "You're so wonderfully sweet; I don't know why you can't accept that."
"So, then, you really do like me, and you would like me even if everyone else hadn't told you I was a great person and all that?" he had to know for sure.
"To be honest, Brian, there was just something about you on that stage that attracted me besides the fact we're going to the same college to the same major," she told him, "All through the match, you gave the air of someone who's...well, someone who's a lot like me, and that let me emotionally invest in you to the point where you running off to kill yourself after the match meant something to me, because it showed me how me doing the same would have affected everyone I know. To tell you the truth, I get scared stiff before each match too; even winning it every year, I've gotten scared each time I take the stage; heck, for me the pressure was a lot worse than it was for you. After being as successful as we have over the last decade, the LFC staff wouldn't take a loss well at all, and I spent every match during all four years in terror that I was going to screw it up and lose the teachers' respect. So I guess seeing you nervous also made me feel better in that regard too. So don't worry, you won me over long ago. Everything your friends told me was icing on the cake. And like I said, you did save my life-I meant every word I said about that too-and I'll always be grateful to you for that. Plus," she looked straight at him, "You actually are rather handsome..."
"You're just saying that..."
"And are you saying that because you're still convinced no girl could say it to you?"
"Well..."
"Well you are handsome, and I hope some day you can realize it. So if you need to hear it explicitly to believe it, I'll tell it to you explicitly," she looked him right in the eye, her smile growing wide, "I love you, Brian Johnson. I love you with every ounce of my being. You're a wonderful person, and any girl would be lucky to have you. And so I feel so lucky you love me. You do, don't you?"
She looked at him imploringly. "Do I? More than you can imagine," he started smiling himself now, "You're special yourself, Melissa, and it makes me feel like I'm on cloud nine for you to say that."
"See?" she hugged him again, looking moved to have been called special, "OK, now that we've gotten that out of the way, I'll just get a few things together and we can go on my leg of our night."
"And what's that surprise thing we're going to do, then?" Brian had to ask as he walked out into the hall to wait.
"Well it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, would it?" she said teasingly, "I won't be more than a minute."
"Take your time," he said, sliding out of the doorway in case she was going to change. He exhaled; so far it was going a lot better than he'd hoped. Of course, that could still mean things could still go downhill eventually. In the meantime, though, he realized he understood exactly where Melissa was coming from; he'd long found himself staring forlornly at the pretty and popular girls in classes, wishing they'd show any attention in him other than to beg for help for their math and science homework. It felt abysmal to be marginalized to that degree, and he hadn't been lying when he'd said he'd thought about wishing he could just be normal sometimes, just like she did. At least being normal, maybe he would have had an outside shot at Homecoming king; watching the football team's quarterback ride around in that car wearing the crown had also made...
His mind came to a halt. A smile slowly spread across his face. He knew exactly how to make the night perfect for Melissa later on. And luckily, there was a person ready to help a phone call away who had the information he needed to bring what he had in mind together (if it could be; it was a complicated matter, he knew, and it was quite possible they wouldn't allow it). He slipped into the bathroom, closed the door, and dialed a now familiar number. The phone rang two and half times before it was picked up. "Hello?" came the now familiar voice on the other end.
"Allison, it's me," he said softly.
"Well, if it isn't the stud?" she said teasingly, "How's it going with the birthday girl so far?"
"Uh, so far so good; something tells me it can't last, though..."
"You worry about this way too much, Brian; just relax and let it play out."
"I can't help it; it's in my nature to worry too much about these things," he countered, "Listen, for later, I just came up with something that should make her quite happy. You said you know Club 85's owner pretty well?"
"Well, reasonably, since I'm in there at least once a week anyway..."
"And you said he's with that theater troupe in Winnetka that's doing The Prince and the Pauper for Saturday kids matinees right now?"
"Uh, yeah. Why?"
"OK, here's what I'm thinking of doing when I bring Melissa there later," he dropped his voice even lower in case she might be listening in outside, "Don't worry, you have at least an hour and a half to call him and set this up; she's taking me somewhere else first, although she won't say what..."
"Ice skating?" he frowned a short time later. Melissa had directed him to an outdoor rink on the edge of the park near downtown Lake Forest.
"I actually find it rather relaxing," Melissa informed him, seated on a nearby bench and lacing up a set of skates, "Whenever I need to unwind and get all my worries out of my mind, at least for a little while, I come down here and skate around for an hour or so. Or, if it's cold enough, I go on that pond over there," she pointed to it across the way.
"Uh, I hate to break it to you, Melissa, but I'm not really a pro at this," he admitted, lacing up his own skates, which were barely his size in the first place but were all the rink owner had left in stock, this being the last weekend it was to be open for the season.
"Well, even smart people like ourselves can learn something new every day," she took his hand and gently led him towards the door to the ice, "I'll be right here alongside you if you need a hand."
"I'd really appreciate...THAAAAAATT!" Brian abruptly slipped and fell the moment he stepped onto the ice. Laughing, Melissa helped him up. "Slow learner?" she teased him.
"Very funny," he stumbled around, his arms flailing wildly, "If only it was forty below out here; then the ice wouldn't be slippery at all and we'd be...WHOOOOOOAAAA!"
He fell again. "I just hope the learning curve with this is quick," he grumbled, sliding to his knees before reaching out for Melissa's hand.
"You'll adopt quickly," she encouraged him, "Although, maybe it would be better you held on to me for a while."
"Absolutely," he agreed, keeping a grip on her hand as she started skating forward across the otherwise deserted rink-all the better for the moment, as at least his embarrassment was then private. The temperature was going down quickly now that the sun was starting to set, glowing brightly on the western end of the rink. He shielded his eyes as they turned in that direction, slipping briefly, but managing to stay upright this time. "Not so bad once you get started, huh?" Melissa asked him.
"Sort of," Brian was trying to concentrate on keeping his balance above all else. Nonetheless, he did feel a slight flying sensation as they slid up the ice towards the far end, and it did feel exhilarating. It was easy to see why Melissa liked doing this. "So, how long have you been coming here?" he asked her, gripping her hand tighter as they made a wide turn, making him wobble a little.
"Ever since I was eight," she told him, "Weather permitting, of course. You know, for a time I thought I might have a second career as an Olympic skater, but once it became clear the standards to get on any Olympic team would be really, really tough, I realized I was much better staying as an amateur. I can still pop a good move every now and then, though. Let's see what we've got tonight."
She let go of his hand. Brian wobbled and flailed his arms, but managed to keep his balance this time. He watched Melissa start skating forward rather quickly and leap into the air, twisting impressively in a circle three times, but she apparently misjudged the landing and stumbled, almost toppling over herself. "Well, guess I'm a bit rusty," she confessed, pushing her long golden hair out of her face, "Haven't really tried anything spectacular out here in about two months. Well, back to the old slow and steady again, then."
She took Brian's hand again, the two of them returned to a more leisurely cruise down the ice. "You come here alone, or...?" was his next question.
"Sometimes I do, sometimes I bring company; most of my friends don't skate, but those that do come are happy to wait for me over in the stands; if nothing else, it gives them time to finish their homework without it interfering in their evening plans," she came to a stop again and dug out her wallet, producing a photo from inside it, showing her with a pair of other girls. "If you've been wondering, Beth and Vicki are my best friends, they're pretty smart in their own right, and I appreciate even more how glad I am that they've been friends with me since you showed me how much I still have to live for. It's too bad you haven't met them yet; they're out of town tonight for college visitation-Beth's going to Wisconsin-Stevens Point, Vicki's going to Michigan. I'm really going to miss them; like I said the night we met, not too many people in my class seem to want to stay around here once we graduate, and that's part of what got me terminally depressed."
"Well, if you need any help adjusting once we check in, I'm always open to meeting on campus any time, anywhere," Brian assured her softly, "It's going to be a hard transition for me too; I'm little better off than you in that category, but there's still only about one or two people in my class going to Northwestern."
"I see," she mused. The two of them were quiet for a few minutes, before she asked, "Have you decided what you'll do after graduation yet?"
"Uh,...no, actually," Brian confessed, nervousness returning, "Ironic, huh; like you said, they think we brains instantly have all the answers, and here I am, staring into as much of a void as you are. I guess I've been so bent on getting straight A report cards the last thirteen years that I haven't really considered what else I might do in life besides that. And to be honest," he shivered, and not just from the chill of the ice, "Now that I think of it, I'm not really that talented in that much else. And I couldn't bear the thought of being a wash-up; that would be humiliating beyond words, having done so well in school, and then to end up in a McJob for the rest of my life, or worse..."
"You'll be fine, trust me, you will be," Melissa patted him encouragingly on the shoulder with her free hand, "You'll find something you can do good at. And if nothing else, if I am picked up by NASA or a private space contractor, well, I'd be glad to have a partner. While I enjoy working on my designs, it would be so much more fulfilling for me if I had someone to share it with."
"Well I'd love to be your partner if nothing else came up for me," he smiled at her. "I suppose I could work as a teacher too; it seems to be a thankless job, particularly among the rest of my class, but at least I'd still be in a school environment..."
"And you'll be helping make people's lives better," she added for him, "Yeah, people don't seem to give teachers enough respect these days," she remarked, "They can take a bad rap as the authority figures, but that doesn't make them evil, especially since they work hard too. I've had nothing but respect for most of my teachers, because I understand in my heart they all wanted to make sure we had successful lives. Of course, there's always one or two bad apples every now and then-I always found my junior high music teacher creepy, and they did fire him two years ago for...well, doing things teachers should never do. And have they done anything about the one that yelled at you at the competition?" she asked him, "That was kind of cruel of him, to be honest..."
"Funny you should ask that now, because word just came out today, they removed Mr. Vernon from his post," Brian told her, "But actually," he looked conflicted, "I do feel sort of sorry for him. Not for what he did to me-that was out of line like you said, and I'm glad he got punished for that-but he's been teaching so long, it's sad his career has to end like this. And he's not really that bad a man deep down, I don't think; he's just got a terrible temper and he refuses to accept responsibility for any mistakes he makes, like the one you saw him commit. And on top of..."
He lost his balance and fell again, this time taking Melissa down with him. Laughing, she leaped to her feet and helped him up yet again. "You really need a lot of practice with this, I see," she said with a chuckle.
"I guess so," he shrugged, "Maybe on the weekends starting in November or so, we can come down from Evanston to here and you can give me some more in-depth lessons." He exhaled as they started skating again. "Well, the one good thing about going off to college, at least I can get Mary off my back," he said, a glower starting to form on his face, "Now that she'll have my parents' attention all to herself, maybe she'll stop being a backstabber."
"So your sister's been jealous of you for a while?" Melissa raised a knowing eyebrow.
"Jealous? She wrote the dictionary definition on jealous. I hate to speak ill of family, I really do, but the truth is Mary can be a complete jerk with me at times," he grumbled, "Always yelling that I steal all the attention; if my parents knew some of the things she's said to me when they weren't around, she'd be grounded for at least three months. The one time, she accidentally broke the TV and tried to pin it on me. They found out the truth in the end, but that was emotionally traumatizing to be yelled down by them for something I knew nothing about. If she had any clue how much pressure I'm under just to maintain the grades I keep most of the time, maybe she'd be willing to see everything in a different light, but frankly, I doubt it. So be very glad you're an only child, Melissa."
"Sometimes I am," she said, sending up a small spray of ice as they maneuvered the near turn of the rink, "On the other hand, though, sometimes I wonder if another sibling might be helpful; although my parents mean well, sometimes I feels like they give me too much attention. I'm glad they love me so much, but that's more pressure on me to deliver for them as their perfect daughter, on top of the pressure I've felt for years with my mom being a teacher."
"Oh? She didn't say that when I met her. What grade?"
"Eighth grade math. How about your parents? I only met them in passing at the hospital; what do they do?"
"Well," he began, "My dad works in the city in the marketing department at ShirleyCorp-to tell you the truth, it seems to me like half the parents of everyone I know at Shermer High works at ShirleyCorp; my dad partners with Mr. Bueller a lot, and I know his son pretty well. My mom owns a bookstore out on Northbrook Drive; it's been squeezed a bit by the national chains and the online businesses the last few years, but she's managed to keep it up and running smooth so far. She'll keep it in business; she's a fighter, always has been. I think growing up in a really large family made her determined to stand out."
"I see," she nodded, "I'd like to meet them more closely some day; they do seem like reasonable people apart from having unknowingly put so much pressure on you to succeed. Well, think you can go on your own now?"
"I could give it a try," he took a deep, worried breath. Once Melissa released his hand, however, he found himself still upright with only the slightest of wobbles. He dared to skate forward on his own, and found he still had control. "Hey, maybe I do have it," he exclaimed, increasing his speed, "Yeah, I think I've got it." He gave himself a powerful push forward and spread his arms wide. "I'm king of the world!" he cried out.
"I'd say you are," Melissa was laughing, rushing to keep up with him, "Looks like I am a better teacher than I..."
With a low cry, she abruptly fell to the ice herself. Brian circled back. "You were saying?" he was laughing himself now, "I can..."
Abruptly he slipped and fell too. "No, YOU were saying?" she was hysterical with laughter, playfully sprinkling ice flakes over him. Brian didn't feel like getting up immediately; the moment was too amusing not to savor. Still, he shot another glance at his watch. About thirty-five minutes before dinner. Hopefully Allison had been able to make the arrangements by now...
"Club 85," Melissa mused after they'd arrived at the night club in question.
"It's brand new-sort of," he explained, helping her out of the car, "Just reopened under new management and a new name, although I forget what the old one was; this is one of my first times going into this kind of environment," he admitted, "I'm not really much of a nightclub person to begin with, and my parents usually never let me come into this part of town too often."
"I'm not a partier either," Melissa admitted, looking a little hesitant at going inside, but nodding and walking towards the door anyway, "So if it does get too rowdy in here, see if your friends would be willing to consider going elsewhere."
"Allison says fights or melees are rare; she goes here a lot with her usual clique, going back to when it operated under its old name," he held open the door for her, hoping things would be calm inside. If his plans were ruined because one or two drunks decided to go at each other...
The interior of Club 85 was brightly painted and brightly lit with neon signs on the wall. A large sign near the front desk announced for all entering that it was karaoke night, and up on stage up front, a patron was belting out an admittedly off-key rendition of "I Melt With You." The club was about half filled with guests, some eating and drinking, others socializing. Brian scanned the building for the rest of the Club. If they'd stuck to the timetable, they should have arrived already...
"Brian, over here," it was Allison calling out from a booth in the corner. And yes, he realized, everyone else was there and had already ordered. He silently mouthed at her as he and Melissa walked towards the booth, "Is it all set?"
"Set and ready to go once they know she's here," she mouthed back. "Well, hello again, and happy birthday," she greeted Melissa with a smile, shaking her hand, "Brian treating you well so far tonight?"
"I couldn't have asked for a better date so far," Melissa slid next to Claire on the left side of the table, where the wealthy girl was rather laconically picking at a roast beef platter; her parents' divorce was probably still hanging too heavily over her, Brian reasoned. "Happy birthday," she told the Lake Forest Central senior with a grin nonetheless, "Glad everything seems to be going well for the two of you so far. How does it feel to be eighteen?"
"Sort of strange, actually," Melissa admitted, "It seems like just yesterday I was an eager eight year old, wondering if I'd ever be graduating, and look where I am now. Anyway, I'm glad you all invited me here; I think between you all and Brian," she glanced around at the five of them, "This is the most people I've celebrated a birthday with in at least ten years. I would have never guessed that would have been possible, any more so than, from what all of you said in the hospital, that you'd all be together as friends so often."
"Or that we'd all be back in detention together after a few weeks because Mr. Vernon turned out to be a sore loser when it comes to academic competitions," Andrew added on the other side of the booth, taking a bit out of a baked potato. Brian did admit the odds of all that seemed to boggle the mind, but as it had all turned out for the better, he wasn't complaining. They plus the rest of Shermer's Simmons team had ended up having to serve the detentions Vernon had dished out to them in the hospital that evening in the end, but Vernon had been removed from overseeing it by the school board as part of the probation he'd been put on by them while they reviewed his conduct following the match. In his place, the job had been given to Mr. Steinberg the history teacher-technically the last person Brian would have thought would have been handed a detention job given that even he found Mr. Steinberg's lessons boring and sleep-inducing at times. And indeed, Mr. Steinberg had, after a brief check-in following the beginning of the session, fallen sound asleep in his office and hadn't woken up again till the detention was just about over at quarter to three-allowing Bender to phone in several pizzas and order a movie for everyone to watch, so that the detention had turned out to essentially be a victory party for the Simmons team in the end. Even Bender himself had offered a small bit of praise to the academic team, apparently impressed that they had so strongly stood up to Vernon for coming down so hard on Brian. At this moment, Bender was leaning back in the booth, one foot casually resting on the table while he downed some Miller Genuine Draft, a deeply satisfied smile on his face, Brian couldn't help noticing. "I see you look happy tonight, Bender," he pointed out.
"Nothing could possibly upset me today, Johnson," Bender said proudly, clearly on cloud nine, "I now have Dick's final fall preserved on tape for all time," he gleefully held up a tape recorder, "And I can't thank you enough for letting him break his neck going after you at that match."
"Well Bender, I know you and Mr..." Brian was drowned out by the sound of the tape rewinding. "So, for your listening pleasure," Bender continued, holding up a hand for everyone's undivided attention, "The moment that should make everyone respect you a whole lot more, Johnson."
He pressed the Play button. The recording was somewhat muffled, sounding like it was being recorded from behind a heavy door, but it was still clear enough for everyone in the booth to hear the school board voting unanimously to remove Vernon from his position as superintendent, citing the poor precedent his actions had set for the school district's other educators, and the bad press the whole incident had been generating. They also pointed out as justification the heat they were taking from the rest of the Simmons team's parents, who'd been roaring that their children were being unfairly punished by Vernon for the whole affair (an opinion Brian more than agreed with given all they'd done was show solidarity with him and demand Vernon give them detention as well if he was bent on giving him another one). Vernon in response angrily spewed out an obscenity-filled tirade in which he ripped into them all for what he considered their stupidity, and declared they weren't firing him, because he was quitting in protest instead. There was a shuffling of Bender's feet on the tape just as the door violently slammed open. "...years down the damn drain!" a livid Vernon muttered out loud to himself as he stormed away, "I should have tossed Johnson out the moment I found that gun; then he'd never have gotten me into this mess in the first place! He'd certainly never have fallen in with John Bender, that smirking little (he put forth a particularly nasty epitaph here)! I hate this school, I hate these students, I hate the parents, and I especially hate that...!"
He let out even more overt obscenities as his voice trailed away, making Brian rather glad there was no one under sixteen in the building at the moment; more than a few people sitting at nearby tables were starting to stare towards them in shock at what was playing on the tape. "Uh, well, Bender, you didn't really need to record this..." he tried to say, nonetheless acknowledging that his thoughts that Vernon wasn't all bad despite all this would probably fall on deaf ears at the moment.
"No problem at all, Johnson," the criminal smiled smoothly, lost in his bliss over getting the last laugh on the superintendent in the end, "Now if you could do me a favor, let me know when your old man's going to haul Dick's sorry hide into court; I'd be glad to take the stand against him. How much is he suing the louse for again?"
"It's set for May 16th now, and he settled on about fifty thousand dollars, along with the assault and battery charges he's going to press against him," Brian told him. Still furious at Vernon for shoving his child after the match, his father had rebuffed all the superintendent's attempts to get him to drop the civil suit and assault charges he'd threatened him with in the hospital, and now was also contemplating getting a restraining order on him as well after Vernon had bombarded the Johnson household with nonstop desperate phone calls begging them to reconsider taking him to court over the last week and a half. "But Bender," he told the criminal solemnly, "Only if you're not going to lie about anything. While I agree Mr. Vernon needs to be punished for what he did to me, I want it done fairly; no..."
"Hey, I don't have to lie about anything, Johnson," Bender assured him confidently, "Like I told you, the analhead tried to force me to hit him in his office the day we met; that should be more than enough to sink him for good."
"Although I'm sure you've thought of other avenues," Andrew muttered under his breath, and Brian couldn't help agreeing; an in-depth account of the behind the scenes turmoil at Shermer High stemming from the incident had "mysteriously" turned up last week in the Shermer Sentinel, and he couldn't help wondering if Bender had casually slipped along the information to the paper just to crank up the heat on Vernon even more.
"So, life is good all in all, and I can celebrate Dick's fall with some good friends and my Cherry," Bender leaned across the table to plant a kiss on Claire's cheek; she looked more than a little unnerved by how exuberant he was from Brian's point of view. Oh, and happy birthday like they all said," he acknowledged Melissa's presence, "You're going to have some fun tonight, and because I'm in a good mood, dinner's on me for you. Another round of drinks, please, on me," he told the waiter approaching the table, "Extra large beer for the birthday girl here."
"Uh, I don't drink," Melissa held up her hand, "A glass of water will be fine."
"Come on, you only turn eighteen once; an extra..." Bender tried to goad her anyway. Sighing, Brian seized the criminal's hand and mouthed towards him, "Please, don't, I'm begging you; let her do what she wants to tonight. You'd do the same for Claire now, wouldn't you?" Bender sighed himself. "You sure know how to suck the fun out of a good situation, Johnson," he mouthed back. "OK, glass of water for her, then," he conceded to the waiter, "And I'll pay for whatever she wants. In the meantime," he glanced up to the stage, "looks like about time for my selections to come up, so I'll be right back."
"Ow!" Andrew grimaced as the criminal accidentally stepped on his foot crawling out of the booth. Brian shook his head. "Has he been like this all night?" he asked Claire once Bender was out of earshot and on stage, where he cut into a powerful rendition of "We Are the Champions."
"All night," Claire nodded, looking more than a little panicked, "And to be honest, Brian, I don't know whether I should be glad or terrified that he can be this happy right now. Still, I guess it counts as some sort of progress, given he's usually had a permanent scowl no matter how thrilled he seemed before."
"So it's you're birthday, then?" the waiter was asking Melissa now, bringing Brian's attention back to more important matters for himself.
"Uh, yeah," she nodded, glancing at the menu, "I guess I'll have a roast ham with green beans and carrots."
"The special, if you will," Allison piped up, giving the waiter a wink; the signal, Brian knew. In about five minutes, he was either going to have won her for life, or it would be the moment everything went wrong for the evening.
"Got it," the waiter winked back. "And how about you?" he asked Brian.
"Huh? Oh, uh, meatloaf, with mashed potatoes and corn; lemonade to drink," he said, caught momentarily off guard.
"Be right back with it then," the waiter winked back at Allison before leaving; everything was set. "If you don't mind, I have to go the bathroom; I'll be right back," Melissa stood up.
"You'll be right back, right?" Brian asked, the nervousness returning as he stepped outside the booth to let her out; if she missed the presentation...
"Don't worry, I won't be long at all," she patted him on the shoulder, "Is everything all right? You look really nervous again."
"I'm fine, I'm fine, really I am," he said quickly, sitting back down.
"We'll be here when you're back," Allison told her in parting. "Are you still uptight about all this, Brian?" she asked him once Melissa had left, "From what I can see, everything's been going great so far for the two of you, so why worry? Especially since what you've set up for her now is about as sweet as a boy could ever do for a girl..."
"So you're saying I should do the same for you on your birthday?" Andrew asked her, with concern on his face that Brian wasn't sure was serious or not.
"Well, if you want to, Andy, I certainly wouldn't mind it; it would be sweet of you too," she put an arm around him.
"Good, then give me the guy's number after tonight, and we'll see what happens," he told her. "So, like Allison said, why be worried about anything, Brian?" he told the brain, his eyebrows raised in concern, grimacing as Bender hit a particularly awkward note on stage with his latest song, "I mean, she does love you, doesn't she?"
"She seems to, yes," Brian admitted, "The flowers and candy worked perfectly, and it's clear she does feel something for me, that this wasn't the three of you and Bender talking her into it..."
"So then what's the problem?" Claire stared him down, "What could possibly have you so worried?"
"Yeah, why?" Andrew added, "If it's that same argument that the brain isn't supposed to find love you trotted out the first time we met..."
"I think it's time I let you guys know exactly why I feel that way, other than how I'm stuck in social limbo being who I am," Brian spoke up softly. He lowered his head; he was about to revisit something he'd longed hoped he'd never have to come back to again. "There's something I didn't tell you guys about during that first detention," he began, "I didn't think it was important at the time, and I thought we'd all never see each other again. But, anyway, this goes back to freshman year. Melissa said she struck out when she tried to go for a date then; well, I was hit by a pitch. Back then, I sort of had a crush on Angela Walters, if any of you met her personally," he told them. They nodded with varying degrees of acknowledgment, "Well, it took me about six months, till Valentine's Day that year, to get up the nerve to ask her out to the Valentine's dance. And lo and behold, when I asked her, she said yes with a smile. I could have flown home that day, believing the loveliest cheerleader in our year had eyes only for me. And for the next week or so, she actually spent time with me; we even went to a hockey game over in Rockford together. She seemed genuinely interested in me, and I was sure I'd hit the jackpot. So the night of the dance came," his face started scrunching up with extreme discomfort, "I came over her place, with flowers, thinking it was going to be greatest night of my life. And the moment I rang the bell..." he struggled to maintain his composure, "I got a bucket of water over my head from the bathroom on the second floor and derisive laughter from her inside. Turns out...turns out...turns out she'd only said yes to make her regular boyfriend jealous and commit to going with her. Once he'd given in and said yes, I'd become expendable again, just the old expendable, unlikeable nerd again," he fought back tears, "That was the first time I really ever felt like dying, watching the two of them walking past me to his car, laughing all the way. And that's hung over me since then, that something will go wrong at the last minute, and it'll turn out that whoever I ask out only is doing it for some other reason, that no matter how real it seems, that I'm just the fall guy in the end. That's why I didn't make any moves for you two when we met, even after it became clear you weren't nearly as bad as I'd thought, besides thinking I wasn't good enough for either of you too," he glanced between Claire and Allison, "I was afraid if I made any move with either of you, it would end just as badly, and besides, I knew Andy and Bender could give you more than I ever could. And now with Melissa, while it's been great so far, that's the point; it's been TOO perfect. Sooner or later, something's got to..."
"I'll stop you right there," Claire took his hand, looking ready to cry herself from what she'd heard, "Brian, one bad experience isn't a paradigm, I thought you would know that. Don't feel bad about Angela; she's a grade A jerk, and I've known that since seventh grade. If we'd known each other then, I'd've warned you as best I could have. As for in detention, don't you worry about that either. I'm glad you think we're great now, but Brian, I'm not the best you can have, and neither is Allison," she turned to the brunette, who nodded knowingly, "This girl is," she pointed across the club to Melissa, now out of the bathroom and walking over to the stage, where she whispered something in the MC's ear, "You've seen it, we've all seen it; you give her so much joy, and not just because you did save her life. I could see it in her eyes, both here and in the hospital. She's the perfect fit for you, Brian, and she's ten times more a real princess than I could ever be; don't run from her," she begged him, "And it doesn't have to be a perfect relationship. It's so hard to find the perfect relationship these days. Look at Bender and me; even if we can make it work, and I sincerely hope we can, it's clear we'll be lucky if the union's close to eighty percent perfect. Look at my parents, too," she suppressed another sob at revisiting her personal crisis, "They tried for years, and still couldn't make it work. There will be setbacks, there always will be, but you and Melissa are truly meant for each other, trust me on that. And what you have lined up for her now can't possibly go wrong; how can it when you set it up for her out of the goodness of your heart? So please, stop being afraid," she took hold of his shoulder, "You and her will have a longer and happier relationship than the rest of us probably will with each other in the end. Both you and her deserve each other, and you know it. OK?"
Brian nodded softly. "I, I guess, having spent all those years looking to get perfect scores on tests and all, I've been convinced there can be perfections in everything..." he admitted.
"Am I missing something?" Bender had returned, making Allison and Andrew groan again as he again inadvertently stamped on both their feet slipping back to his seat.
"Not much, excpet Brian's still having doubts about his date," the wrestler admitted, rubbing his foot.
"I see. Well, Johnson," Bender turned to him, still on a bit of an emotional high, "I can't say I still understand how the brain's mind works and probably never will, but I do know you deserve this girl," he gestured back at Melissa, now finished with whatever she had to say and heading back to the booth, "And the two of you should be happy together."
"Bender, thanks, I didn't know you actually thought that," he was impressed.
"He came to realize that no one should have to feel alone, that good people should have happy endings no longer how long it takes," Claire spoke up again, cutting Bender off as he started to say something that might have ultimately contradicted what he'd already said.
"Did I miss anything?" Melissa asked as she returned to the table. Any response anyone might have given was immediately cut off by a sharp trumpet blast. One of the waiters was sounding one, in fact, as a procession of club staff made their way towards the booth, four of them holding aloft a large empty throne. A graying haired man with glasses in a gray suit that Brian supposed was the club owner stepped forward once the procession had reached them and produced a scroll from under his tuxedo. He took a deep gulp; this was it. "Hear ye, hear ye," the man proclaimed as everyone at the surrounding tables turned to watch the unusual spectacle, "It is with great honor and distinction that we at Club 85 do hereby on this day, call forth one Melissa Christine Winters on her birthday."
"Uh, that's me," she raised her hand, looking more than a little confused, as half the other people in the club seemed to be.
"It is my distinct pleasure to on this your special day anoint you queen for the evening..." he reached backwards for one of his employees to hand him a large glittering golden crown, which he ever so gently placed on Melissa's head. Another employee handed him a large purple robe to drape over her shoulders, "...and present you with a fitting cake for the evening, so if you'll have a seat, your Highness, let us present it to you," he gestured towards the throne. Choking up, Melissa slid into the throne, which the men gently hoisted aloft again (Brian's throat seized up; this had been the part of his idea that had most concerned him. If they'd dropped her before the cake came out, he'd never live with himself). "All hail the queen," the owner called to the rest of the patrons as the throne was hoisted back up and carried towards the door to the kitchen, which burst open as the chef wheeled out a spectacular three tiered white icing cake with eighteen candles. More than a few guests did join in the cheers as Melissa was regally set down before the cake. Brian breathed a sigh of relief. It had gone perfect in the end. Maybe he HAD been overreacting after all.
"You did good, pal," Andrew patted him on the shoulder, "No way she can say no to you at all after this."
"Yeah, uh, I think I did OK," he said modestly.
"Then why are you standing around here; you should be sharing the moment with her," Claire seized his arms and dragged him towards the throne.
"Uh, Claire, you don't have to..." his protests fell on deaf ears as he was alongside his date in a flash. Melissa was all but sobbing in joy at what had been prepared for her. "Was this your idea?" she asked him, touched.
"Uh, well, I, uh...you had said back at your place you'd give anything to be Homecoming queen just once," he explained nervously, "So, I, uh, I thought it would be a nice touch, since it's your birthday, to let you be the queen for once. Hope you like it."
"Like it? How can I not love this?" she rose up off the throne, "You are, far and away, the single sweetest boy on the face of Planet Earth, Brian Johnson; this is the most touching moment of my entire life. Thank you so much."
She flung her arms around him and gave him an emphatic kiss square on the lips, one that brought up a loud roar from the onlookers. Brian felt himself melting in delight. He caught glimpses of the people around them. Some of them were in his year at Shermer, many of them in the popular cliques. And at this moment, they all looked utterly jealous...jealous of him, king of the world for just this one moment. He remained in a dazed, detached state of bliss once Melissa released the kiss. "I'll hold on blowing out the candles for now," she told the owner and her "court," "I'd like my selection to be played now," she called to the DJ, "I think my 'king' here has more than earned a first dance."
"As you wish, your Highness," the DJ hefted the microphone and stretched it towards her, "Anyone else who wants to join in on a dance with our royal couple here, here's a little Stephen Bishop for the occasion."
"I'm, uh, not much of a dancer," Brian admitted as the familiar tune started up on the karaoke track.
"Don't worry, I'll lead and you follow," she encouraged him with a smile, "Feel free to join in at any time, too; this song's for you." She raised the microphone to her lips. "Time," she began, her lip quivering in delight, "I've been spending time watching trains go by all of my life. Lying on the sand watching sea birds fly..."
"...wishing there would be," he pulled the microphone towards his own lips; the song's sentiments were his as much as hers, "someone waiting home for me. Something's telling me it might be you, it's telling me it might be you, for all of my life..."
He stared deep into her soft brown eyes. He could feel the urge starting to rise inside of himself. He wanted to do it; he could tell she wanted him to do it. He had to do it; she was too beautiful for him not to do it, and he knew now she was the one he wanted, for all eternity. Claire and the others were right; there was nothing to be afraid of. It was time to go ahead and forget about the theoretical pitfalls and enjoy what he undeniably had earned. He let the microphone slip to the floor as he leaned towards her, and before he knew it, their lips had locked in a strong, powerful kiss. The world was melting away around him, and so he barely heard the loud ovation that seemed to be going on around him, or that Allison had retrieved the microphone and was finishing the song for them, with the others joining in on backup, even Bender throwing in a few notes of his own. None of that mattered. All that mattered was Melissa...precious Melissa...his Melissa, he knew with an explosion of joy, wrapping his arms tighter around her. He couldn't stop the kiss even if he or she wanted to; the warm feeling flowing between them was almost narcotic. He never wanted the feeling to end; now that he knew what true love felt like, it was too intoxicating to ever let go of. He wanted to wake up with her every day for the rest of his life, because as of now, she was the most important thing in the world to him, and always would be.
"You think that's Antares there?" he pointed some time later from atop the Winters' roof, squinting through a spare telescope.
"No, I'd say that's too high for Antares at this time of year," Melissa shook her head next to him. She was still wearing the crown and robe, and Brian wondered if she was ever going to take them off now that they were forever connected to such a great memory for her. "Looks more like Arcturus to me," she theorized, taking a bite of the ice cream they'd bought after leaving the club.
"You sure? Not that I'm doubting you, since clearly you're better at astronomy than me, but isn't that too low for Arcturus? I'd say Arcturus would be closer to around where Jupiter is."
"It's Arcturus, trust me," she said teasingly, swallowing the last of the cone, "Aw, clouds," she said in mock indignation as a batch of them glided over their primary viewing area, "I hate when they do that."
"I'll bet," Brian abruptly noticed a rather bright star in the east. "Say, which one's that?" he pointed, "I can't really think which one that could be."
"Which one?" Melissa trained her telescope on it. "Hmm, I've never seen that one before," she frowned, "Maybe it's a supernova that exploded a couple hundred years ago, and the light's just entering the atmosphere now. Very strange."
"Strange indeed," Brian agreed. He shot a glance at his watch. "Well, much as I hate to say it, I'd better get going," he announced, sad the evening would have to come to an end at all, "I did promise my parents I'd be back before midnight. If you need me to stop in again at any time, though," his heart melted again as he looked her straight in the eye once more, "Just let me know, and I'll be there. You're also welcome over my house any time too, Melissa."
"I'll probably stop in at some point before the prom; I would like to meet your family more intimately than I do now," she said, looking more like a genuine queen than anyone could imagine when she returned his smile, "And Brian, thank you so much for the best night of my life," she choked up in joy, "I'll tell you, the night before the competition, when I felt all alone in the world, before I went to bed, I prayed to God that if he could stop me from wanting to kill myself, if he could send me anything that would convince me that I had something left to live for, to please give me a sign right away. Usually I'm not that religious a person, but I wouldn't be surprised if he sent you to me, because you are my guardian angel, Brian Johnson. And I want nothing more right now than to be with you every day for the rest of my life."
"You're an angel yourself, Melissa," he hugged her, unable to stop himself from casting a glance back at the mysterious star and wondering...no, it couldn't possibly be anything like that, he told himself deep down. "And I'd like that very, very much too." He held the hug as long as he felt he could before letting go. "Well, I guess..."
"Hold on, before you go," Melissa held up her hand, "I do have a present for you."
"For me?"
"You've given me so much tonight, it's only fair I get you something in return; come on," she took his hand and led him back through the window into the attic. Brian wondered what she could possibly have for him that would be grand enough to wait this long to tell him about it. "Can I have a clue what it is?" he had to ask as they went back down the stairs to the second floor and down the hall to her room.
"Well that would spoil the surprise, now wouldn't it?" Melissa teased him, "When I talked with your friends in the hospital the night we met, they mentioned how you'd ended up in detention with them," she bent down and pulled a long box from under her bed, "Once I'd heard that, I knew what I could get for you besides asking you out, so later that week, I approached a boy in my class who's good in technical matters and asked him if he'd put this together the way I wanted it," she set the box down on the desk and stepped back for Brian to tear it open, "True, I had to throw in the promise to help him with his calculus homework from now to the end of the year before he agreed, but in the end, it was more than worth it to make sure you had..."
"I don't believe it," he mumbled softly, lifting her present out of the box, "You actually made me a lamp..."
But it wasn't just any lamp. This one had been far more professionally made than any of those that had been manufactured by his classmates in the infamous shop class that had sent him to detention in the first place-it in fact put almost all of their operational lamps to shame. About four feet tall, the wood had been sanded completely smooth and lacquered for good measure. The base was composed of a trio of interlocking Bs of increasing size, painted Shermer blue and gold. These had been set on a splendid three-tiered white marble base. He was at a loss for words that she would do this for him. Still, he had to know one thing above all else. He pushed the plug into the nearest outlet and hesitantly reached for the switch. The light blazed gloriously on. He let out a yell of delight. "I can't believe it!" he gasped in delight, "Oh Melissa, this...this...I don't quite know what to say..."
"I thought it would cheer you up a little," she said with a warm smile, "It might be too late to improve your final GPA, but I knew it wasn't too late for you to have a working lamp of your own, and one that was better than everybody else's combined on top of that. And I don't think you've read the inscription yet."
She pointed at the lowermost tier of the base. Brian glanced at it-and almost immediately broke down. Stamped onto a gold plaque there were the words TO BRIAN FROM MELISSA: FOR THE HERO THAT SHONE THE LIGHT INTO MY DARKNESS WHEN I NEEDED IT THE MOST. "Oh this, this is the best present I've ever gotten from anyone," he sobbed happily; now he could put the emotional horror of his failure in shop behind him for good, "I was right, you are an angel too, Melissa; you're as stunningly beautiful on the inside too. I'll never forget this..."
He pulled her close and kissed her again. Maybe, he wondered, some higher force HAD pushed the two of them together, perhaps to show both he and she that brains could find true love after all. If so, he couldn't thank that person or force enough; they were meant to be together, and no one could deny it now, least of all he himself.
Again he didn't want to stop the kiss, and only did so when his cell phone started ringing. "Uh, yeah?" he fumbled it open.
"Are you on your way back now?" it was his mother, and while she wasn't angry, there was undeniable urgency in her voice, "I did say I wanted you back by midnight..."
"Yeah, uh, I'm, I'm on my out the door now," Brian said quickly, hanging up. "Well, have to go for real now," he told the girl of his dreams, carefully pushing the lamp back into its box, "And I guess I'll see you again either at the prom or at some point before that. And one more time, happy birthday, Melissa Winters."
He couldn't resist one final kiss, a final memory of the greatest night of his life. "Good night, Brian Johnson," her parting smile as he reluctantly walked out the door was warmer than fifty suns right next to each other. If he could make her life happy from here on, nothing else he could or couldn't accomplish mattered. "Good night, Mr. Winters, Mrs. Winters, I'm on my way out," he gave a final wave to her parents in the den.
"Good night, Brian," her mother was also smiling warmly, "And thank you for making Melissa so happy on her special day. You have our eternal thanks for that."
"Indeed," her father nodded, "It'll be a thrill if she decides to take your hand in marriage some day; you showed tonight you're everything I ever wanted her husband to be. Everything you did for her tonight was so wonderfully kind."
"Glad to have done so, sir. And the thing is, I never knew I had it in me to do what I did for her before tonight. I can't tell you how glad I am I did have that capability. Well, have a good evening," Brian told them in parting as he stepped outside into the cool spring air. He let out a cry of delight and spun in circles back to his car. His every dream had just come true. What more could he ask for out of life, he wondered? Apart, of course, for the chance to turn back time and fix his shop project so he'd still have a chance at valedictorian, that was. But it didn't matter now, he thought, gently placing the box on the floor of the passenger side; he had a better lamp now than everyone else's, and no one could take that away. And besides, he realized, if he hadn't failed in shop, he never would have met and joined the rest of the Club, they never would have come and found him when he ran out of the convention center, and he'd never have met Melissa in the first place. So perhaps, he acknowledged, that failure, painful as it was, had done him a world of good...
He couldn't help glancing up at the strange star again. He couldn't recall ever seeing it before. Was it just coincidence it was appearing now? Or was it connected to her falling for him, he had to ask? Could it perhaps be Bill Stan...Stan...whatever the strange homeless man that had helped him when he'd been depressed had said his name was, watching over him? Or could it be some higher force, some great creative force, perhaps trying through all this to possibly rectify the fact he had previously been the one to leave that fateful detention alone so some afterlife spirit could be given peace?
Nah, he thought with a shake of the head, that was far too corny. Still, if someone was listening down on him...
"Uh, hello, if someone's up there," he called up to the star, "I'm, uh, I usually don't pray to God that much, but if you're there, and you played any part with her and me, I just want to say, thank you. I'm happier than I've ever been, and I think she is too. So please, keep watching over us; I want to be there with her till the day I die, to be her angel like she said. And if it's you, Mr...whatever your name was, don't forget, I asked you look out for the rest of the Breakfast Club too, so, if you're listening, don't you forget about them; you did promise after all."
He thought he saw the star twinkle slightly; a possible yes, perhaps? Oh well, he thought as he climbed into the car and pulled off down the street, heading back to Shermer again, only time would tell. In the meantime, for the first time in a long time, he had no worries in life at all. There was no reason to worry when, for once, he was completely proud to be Brian Johnson. A brain, in love with another, the two of them sharing one heart, hopefully, he prayed, now and forever.
THE END