Senior year, Eliza thinks on the third of September. Perfect. It's an optimistic thought. She's always been an optimistic person, she's found out in her life that, that is the only way to face things and come on fist place.
Angelica's a realistic with a dry wit. Peggy's the most pessimistic person ever with a bubbly humor to confuse. So it falls to Eliza to be the optimist. And it's going to be good year, her boyfriend, Alexander, is going to be there and it's the year of Peggy's junior prom so they'll need help picking up something to wear and a partner. And while it's disappointing that Angelica will not be there,—she applied for Columbia University and entered easily,— it's going to be the best year in her life.
She clutches her new agenda close and slips into her homeroom class. "The best year ever," she vows.
Senior year, Eliza thinks on the seventeen of April. Perfect. It's not, this time, an optimistic thought. Eights months in and she's never wanted another year to be over so soon.
It seems everything going wrong lately. Angelica promises to visit? No, she's too busy at college and has barely spared her more than six calls in those eight months alone. Not even a photo, all Eliza knows is that she's dating a Brit named John something, which she found out because of a photo in her Instagram. Not even by Angelica herself. And it hurts, because why can't her older sister just pick the damn phone, or even send her a text. Why can't she tell her when she's dating someone?
And Peggy? Well, it's worse, Peggy's not taking to her. They keep shooting her odd looks and are always locked up in their room talking loudly on their phone. And when Eliza asks? Well, it's none of your business Eliza! It sucks to see Peggy at the school hallways chatting with some friends and when she turns to greet them, they shoot her a strange look and then turn away. Eliza is left hanging there her mouth open to spew a greeting, arm half raised in wave.
And if her siblings are distant, then her boyfriend is another matter else entirely.
(Alexander Hamilton is charming since the moment they met, two years ago, when he switched schools. He's like an inch or two taller than Eliza,—maybe less,— with dark hair and hazel eyes. Furiously proud and ambitiously driven, he takes no shit from anyone and is constantly getting into arguments with people. Still, there's something about him she likes. He's a joker, a gentleman and a thief all at once, Angelica once said, gaze curiously blank. Be careful, Liza.)
She heeds Angelica's warning, because even as he might like her,—love her even,—he is no normal person. He's kind and he's rude, jokes around sometimes and then he blinks emptily when you crack a joke yourself,—"I don't get it? It's a joke right?" he looks uncomfortable, trying to smile sheepishly, but it looks more like a pained grimace. "I don't, Betsy, I'm sorry I don't—"—Eliza doesn't crack jokes around him anymore.
So when Alex starts to act odd, she and notices. While he sometimes keeps a wary distance of her, other times he goes out of his way to be the Most Attentive Boyfriend Ever™, showering her with gifts, which Eliza knows all too well that he can't afford. His foster parents aren't the kindest and he doesn't like asking them for money so he can take her out on dates, he's too prideful. So he got a job at a library, it's shitty and the hours are the worst, Eliza knows. "But," he says, "it gives me the chance to serenade you, Bets." Eliza makes him take her to little coffee shops and makes a drama out of paying her part, because you may be a gentleman, but I'm no lady in distress.
Another thing he does is even worse, looking her with a guilty face whenever he thinks she isn't looking. And Eliza isn't dumb or blind. She can tell perfectly when Alex's hiding something, because he's the worst at keeping secrets, doesn't to understand them well. She knows he's not cheating on her, he has a hard time forming good relationships and he's not capable of doing something and not telling everyone, that the next day the whole country knows. So it must be something he hasn't done, but wants to do.
And worst of all, she's flunking in Literature. And usually Alex helps her with that, he holds Shakespeare in a high regard which also includes a sort of funny kind of distaste, but he's sick.
(And he's confined to bed, which makes him distressing, he hates being sick. But while his foster parents may be unloving and harsh, "They are not about to lose another kid, they need the money," Alex told her once, face pale and sweaty and refusing to go to his house. He'd told her, far alight with shame, if she could talk to her parents about staying on their couch. Eliza had taken him home and he had stayed there for a week. That wasn't back when they were into friends.
But right now her parents are on a trip, Angelica's off to college and Alex hadn't gotten to her in time, so he's confined in a bed in his fosters' house and the seat beside her is empty for once. Worse of all? They've got a project to do.)
Eliza stares glumly at the teacher,—Ms Lucy, a tall woman in her late fifties,—who waves around enthusiastically her copy of Hamlet, while she explains the plot.
"—and now I'm going to assign the group partners for the dialogue," she says and Eliza looks up abruptly. What?
Ms Lucy starts calling out names from a list. "Tilgman and Higgs, Lafayette and Burr," Eliza sees Burr giving the enthusiastic Lafayette a wary look. "—Madison and Rosario, Laurens and Hamilton—"
What? Eliza thinks in alarm, looking up from her own copy of Hamlet. Laurens looks up too, his golden eyes narrowed, curls bouncing. Eliza tries not to notice how he glances at her.
"—Schuyler and Lewis, that's it guys," Ms Lucy says. "Pair up, please!"
Eliza looks around the class where everyone is gathering around in their own pairs. At the corner Lafayette beams brightly at a perplexed Burr, while Lili Rosario and Jemmy Madison both give each other confused, polite smiles. "Lewis?" she mutters under her breath, squinting. "Lewis who?"
"Ah," says a voice behind her. Eliza turns. "That'd be me," she says. It's a girl, her eyes heavy with makeup, lips cherry red, and a dark waterfall braid cascading down her shoulder. She gives her an amused look. Eliza doesn't recognize her for a moment and then, oh, M—something Lewis.
Eliza gives a nervous laugh. "Oh, sorry. I'm just a little bit distracted lately. And, that and—"
"—we don't have many classes together," Lewis finishes. "I know. Just Lit and Calculus, right? Of course, with your boyfriend in class it might be kinda difficult to concentrate." Eliza flushes, but doesn't say anything. It's true after all.
"Well, Elizabeth Schuyler," she extends her hand with a hopeful smile. Lewis' cherry lips curve upwards. She reaches out with her hand which is covered with with all sorts of rings and bracelets. Lewis's hand closes around Eliza's, her skin is warm against hers.
"Lewis," she says. "Ma—"
(Eliza remembers Alex and his numerous attempts to teach her a little of Spanish, in which she failed horribly. And her successful attempts at teaching him some things in Chinese. Only some things, because Eliza had only tried to study the language when she was younger and given up after a year of endless studying.
Eliza had wanted to know how it was, talking in Chinese and writing in at and all that came after. All she had from when she was little was a torn photo and an adoption certificate. But she didn't know what type she was supposed to speak, Madarin? Yue? Min, Wu and Hakka and oh god there's a lot of them.
When offered to teach him, he had beamed brightly. "Curse words," Alex had said eagerly. "Teach me those. And how to charm, some people, some ladies," he gave her a predatory grin. Eliza remembers she had thrown a pillow to him then, laughing about who exactly are you trying to charm, huh, boyfriend of mine?
Alex had also taught her to say some things in Spanish. French was not necessary as they both were very good at it. He told her once: "There was a girl named María in one of my fosters. She was kind, though she got adopted, so good for her I guess," he had said. And he always looked so uncomfortable when the topic of adoption came up, that she switched topics and taught him to say idiot in Chinese.)
And now with M—something Lewis in front of her, Eliza remembers. "Oh," she says delightedly. "It's María right?"
Lewis mouth twists. "It's Maria actually, like Mariah Carey. But without an h."
Eliza smiles awkwardly. "Ah, sorry. Well, hello Maria," she makes sure she pronounces it well.
Lewis— now Maria Lewis flops down on the empty seat beside Eliza, her braid swishing behind her. She takes out a battered copy of Hamlet, Eliza tries carefully not to stare. She takes out her own new copy. They spend the rest of the class reading out loud to each other the parts which Ms Lucy assigned them.
The next month is spent hanging out in the library or the coffee shop near school to work on their project. They bring their books and read aloud to each other, Maria's slow drawl makes Eliza grin, and when she stumbles on the unfamiliar sentences Maria doesn't mock her, she just gives her an encouraging smile instead. Eliza comes to see Maria as a good friend. And she likes her, a lot. She's kind and has a dry kind of humor she's only seen in few people.
She insists in calling Eliza by her given name,—"Come on Elizabeth, how can you hate coffee?"— and while she always corrects her, by now it's more of a game for them than a problem. In turn Eliza insists in finding her a nickname, she settles for Mar, after the failed attempts of Ria, Mars, Christmas Girl, and Maria's pale face and stiff shoulders when she calls her Mari.
Eliza talks about her siblings fondly and of her parents amusedly.
("Peggy's the worst," Eliza tells her fondly, sipping her green tea. Maria who's in her second cup of coffee raises an eyebrow. "They are too kind and too wild. Of course we don't talk too much anymore, I'm afraid I messed up or something." Eliza plays with the straw in her glass. "I dunno."
Maria stares at her with russet brown eyes. "They've been seeing someone, I think."
Eliza stares at her. "What?" How does she know that? Maria hasn't even talked to Peggy, ever.
"They are sitting right behind you, actually," she nods to Eliza's right.
"Peggy's not alone." She resists the urge to turn. She can't believe Peggy would have a boyfriend or girlfriend or partner or whatever and keep it a secret.
Eliza takes a sip of her tea. "So, what do they look like?"
"Peggy? They are wearing the same yellow coat from the morning—"
"Nonono, the guy, girl, person!"
Maria laughs quietly as not to draw attention to themselves. "Well," she begins and tells her all about Peggy's date.
It's girl, hair in dreadlocks, hazel eyes, sort of greenish, wearing a green skirt and a yellow bandanna that's Peggy's on tied on her throat. Maria wonders if it's a kink. Eliza chokes on her tea. She seems friendly, Maria assures her when Eliza beings biting her nails.
"She's making Peggy laugh," Maria says wistfully. Eliza can't help the fluttering on her chest. "They seem happy," she adds. And for Eliza that's enough.
Peggy looks up when Eliza arrives that day, from the sofa, they've dropped their shoes on the floor and are leaning against the armchair, a magazine half open in their hands. Like they haven't come five minutes before Eliza.
"Hey," they say tersely. The maginze is upside down. Eliza laughs.
"I like her, yeah?" she says. Peggy blinks at her. "What?"
"That girl you're dating, she seems like a nice sort, she makes sure you laugh. I miss Angelica too alright?"
Peggy straightens, the yellow coat crinkling a bit. "I don't know what you're talking about," they say, face red. Eliza suppresses a smile, there they are, her stubborn Peggy.
"I won't tell her, I mean she didn't tell me about British John, it seems fair." Seh turns to leave and then glances back. Peggy is sitting on the sofa, their eyes wide and bitting their lip. Their hair has come loose from their ponytail, there is a little bruise mark on their throat. "And I've noticed your bandanna seems to be missing, you should cover that hickey." Peggy's hand flies to their throat. Eliza snickers.
When she's leaving she hears a quiet: "Thanks, Liza.")
Eliza and Maria become closer. And while Eliza gushs about her family, Maria doesn't talk much about hers, though she does provide her with some stories about her older brother. And she never invites Eliza to her home, so Eliza is very careful in what she speaks about and what she asks Maria.
(Eliza knows she's lucky. She's seen Alex's empty eyes when they first met, his hungry gaze when he sees a new book and the stark disappointment when he can't afford it. His face thinning when he doesn't get enough sleep because off the nightmares. She's seen John Laurens' clenched fists, seen him fight guys twice his size, blood boiling and seen him stare scared at a gay couple. She's heard about his monstrous father, dead mother and pile of siblings. So, yeah, Eliza's lucky and she's gotten so far in making this new friend that she doesn't want to lose her because of something as petty as money or family.)
So instead she lets Maria talk about the things she chooses and that day it's her mom.
"Ah," she sighs as they walk from the coffee shop to take the bus, hands wrapped around her cappuccino. Maria loves her coffee as much as Alex loves his. "My mom's the best. She's studying for this internship in a law school. And she's also a nurse, so she works at this hospital, and you know," Maria turns around grinning enthusiastically, "there's this guy—" Eliza doesn't like the way her heart jumps in fright. "And well, he's a doctor and my mom obviously likes him, so—" Maria keeps chattering. Eliza gives her an amused smile while she takes a sip of her tea.
Eliza's looking at the sky, which is blue that day when Maria stops. She stops talking and stops walking and just stares.
Just at the side of the bus stop, there's a tall boy with a disgruntled expression in his face standing there. Maria stares at him. For brief moment Eliza wonders if it's her brother, but no, Maria's told her that in a fit of dumbness, really, he had dyed his hair blonde.
This guy's not blonde. Maria's expression shifts. She presses her cold capuccino into Eliza hands and turns to look at her. Ever since they started hanging out Maria's said goodbye to Eliza the same way over and over, red lips pressed against her cheek. This time Maria looks weary and sort of scared. She whispers, "bye, Elizabeth," and takes off running for the guy.
Eliza turns around, her cheek feels cold and clammy, lacking Maria's goodbye. She presses the cappuccino into her chest and goes walking to home.
The next day Maria doesn't show up to class. And Eliza's heart hurts, so she goes to talk to Alex.
He's better this days, after recovering from his fever he went back to school, but he talks more and more to John Laurens, who's his Lit partner and his smiles turn more and more guilty each time he looks at Eliza.
Maria doesn't show up, and her heart beats and— well, they're boyfriend and girlfriend in the same damn situation. So they sneak out of school at lunch to go and talk.
"Well?" Alex asks after he's devoured a muffin and nearly finished his first cup of coffee. His face looks thin, Eliza reminds herself to check on his foster parents as soon as she can. She sets down her red tea.
"Well," she says. She stares at him, his brown eyes, his tousled hair, the green hoodie he's always wears to impress. Something heavy settles in her heart, but she lets it go, because he was her best friend before he was her boyfriend. She says it bluntly: "I'm breaking up with you. Go on and kiss John Laurens." Eliza takes another bite of her muffin.
Alex's mouth drops open. "What?"
"And go and ask him to be your boyfriend. He looks awfully sad, maybe that'll cheer him up?" She munches her muffin again.
Alex stares. "What?" he repeats.
"I said—"
"No, no, no. I know what you said, I heard you. You're breaking up with me?"
Eliza suppresses a smile. "Yes," she says slowly. Then she starts to laugh.
"Oh, oh! It was a joke then? Betsy, fuck, you know I don't," he trails off. Alex looks kind of confused and desperate at the same time. "I don't get it?"
Eliza grimaces. "Shit, sorry. No, I am. Breaking up with you, I mean. Look, I've seen how you look at Lau—John and I've seen him looking back when you don't seen. And he's a good guy, I want you to go and kiss him and tell him how you feel. Don't waste your chance with him. And, well, feel free to tell him you were the one who broke up with me if you want."
"What?" Alex is like a broken record sometimes. Eliza sighs.
"That hoodie," she points it out.
Alex flushes.
"Why aren't you slapping me or something? It thought that was what you were supposed to do?"
"I'm not supposed to do anything. I want you to be happy, Alexander," she says. Eliza reaches out for his hand, gives him a look, asking for permission, he takes a shuddering breath and nods. She wraps her two hands around his right one. "And, um, well I am in the same situation, alright?"
Alex's face lights up. "Really?" And of course he asks who he is. Eliza lets it slip it's not a he. Alex gives an apraising look. Still, even as he presses and presses, Eliza won't budge and doesn't tell him a thing. They spend nearly two hours in there, and miss all of their classes. Eliza's glad her crush in Maria kept him distracted or else he would have gone balistic by now. After a few hours she drops Alex on his house, and goes to her home with a lighter heart and a slight skip to her step.
Maria shows up to class next week. She's wearing a long sleeved shirt and a fluttery grey scarf, her hair is long and loose agains the nape of her neck. She gives Eliza, who's bursting with questions, a weak smile.
"Hey, Elizabeth," she whispers, the bruises under her eyes aren't covered up neatly. Eliza tries not to stare.
"Hey, are you—"
"I'm fine," Maria says curtly in a tone Eliza's never heard before. "Come on, lend me a pencil. Let's finish this project shall we?"
The turn it in at the end of the week. It's titled Macbeth's Process of Deterioration. And because it had been finished a week and a half before, Eliza took the time to read another book. She buys a book with Shakespeare's plays and sonnets, and gifts it to Maria who's face stares at her disbelievingly for a moment, before she takes it. Eliza buys her own copy and highlights quotes about love. The day they turn in the proyect, Maria's face looks fresh and she shows up with complicated updo and Eliza's heart feels lighter.
They maintain their friendship. They sit by each other in Lit, which Maria adores. Alex sits by a red faced John Laurens. And in Calculus they pass notes sometimes, with inside jokes and silly drawings. Eliza draws hearts in the corner of her notebooks. She writes down quotes from her book and scratches the ones that don't go with Maria.
Senior year, Eliza thinks on the thirty of May. Nearly perfect. And maybe it's not perfect but it is a good year, the best maybe.
"Betsy, hey," someone calls out from behind her. It's Alex. He's wearing pink today. A pink jacket, a blue jean that's halfway dyed pink and a red shirt.
Last week he got in a fight with guy who told him pink was for fags. Alex punched him in the face, but thought about it. So he's taken wearing feminine colors ever since and has convinced all of his friends to join in. Eliza's seen Hercules Mulligan walking around with a pink bandana in his head, Lafayette's gone all out, wearing a pink fur coat and some wicked fucsia heels, their smile dangerous behind their rose colored liptick. Eliza's even seen Burr, sporting a pink shirt, eyeing Teddy Bartow.
"Hi," Eliza says poking her head out of her locker. "Is it Valentine's already? Someone should tell John."
Alex blinks, once, twice, then he laughs. "Have you seen him?"
Eliza shakes her head amusedly because she has seen John. His hair's grown long enough he can tie it in a small ponytail. And in the morning he was using a pink shirt, with his blue jeans and some pink shoelaces in his white sneakers. "He's certainly adjusting."
"Yeah, he's—"
"Hold on, Alexander." Eliza turns a little bit to wave at Maria who's in the corner of the entrance talking with a girl from their Calculus class. She waves back, her lips are dark red that day.
"Betsy," Alex groans.
"¿Si? You were saying?"
A smile slowly spreads across Alex's face. "You should ask her," he says.
Eliza doesn't turn. "Mmmh?" she mumbles, still watching Maria, the girls from Calculus is gone. Now it only Maria, who sticks a pencil on her mouth, to tie her her hair in a bun. Eliza watches as she gathers it all and struggles with her hairband. She frowns around the pencil, her dark red lipstick contrasting sharply against it. Eliza wonders briefly why haven't they told her anything about the lipstick yet.
"You should you know," Alex says, there's a note of amusement creeping into his voice. Eliza half turns, adjusting her planner so it doesn't fall from her arms.
"What?"
Alex gives her an all too familiar smirk,—the one that means trouble for her and all involved,—before leaning down to her height, which is not much, it's like an inch or two of difference, really.
"You should ask her to prom," he says finally.
Eliza feels herself turning red. "What?" she squeaks out. "Look, I don't know what—"
"C'mon Betsy," Alex grin turns serious. "Go on and ask Maria Lewis to prom. You know you want to," he pauses. "I know you want to. Just go and invite her and—" he says warningly when Eliza opens her mouth to argue,"—you are not shy. Don't give me that bullshit. You are like, the bravest person ever, está bien? Invite her."
Eliza closes her mouth. "Alex—" it's a half hearted attempt, she knows. Because once Alex planted the seed in her mind it just begins to grow. And she really, really wants to invite Maria to prom.
"No," says Alex, his lip twists upwards. His eyes are bright.
She swallows. Sure, she wants to invite Maria and well, that's one problem solved isn't it? Apart from all the others: What is Maria going to answer? What is she says no? The mere thought sends Eliza's heart racing in terror, she clenches her hands to stop herself from biting her nails. And,—even more terrifying and exhilarating,—what if she says yes?
Alex crosses his arms and leans on a locker, his pink jacket crinkling. "Bet, if you don't invite her, I'll do it. I heard she looks great in red." He shoots her a smirk.
Eliza glares at him half heartedly. "Stop it, Alexander."
Alex laughs and— "Ooh, look, look! There she is! It's the perfect moment, go on and ask her!"
Eliza groans. "Alex, I literally just broke up with you a month ago. You shouldn't be here, encouraging me to get a date," she pauses contemplatively. "A hot date at that."
"Aaand that was the main reason for us not being us anymore, remember?" Alex
eyes glint with something Eliza recognizes.
"No, Alex–Alexander no, wai—" Eliza's cut off by Alex's shout.
"Hey, Maria!" Eliza's still mouthing 'Nonono Alex no' when Maria, who's digging on her bag for something with a worried expression in her face, turns looking over her shoulder. There's a curl hanging on the side on her face and she's finally given up in putting her hair in a bun or so it seems, because she has her hair out streaming in dark waves behind her. She gives Alex a careful look, and gifts Eliza a lopsided smile, her red lips curling upwards. Eliza feels her face burn hot.
Maria hoists her bag on her shoulder and starts walking towards them with a half-amused, half-confused smile in her face.
She stops in front of Eliza. "Hey, Elizabeth," she says and she smiles so brightly that Eliza can't bring herself to correct her. She just gifts her a weak smile, because oh god, her eyes are wide and pretty, she's changed her makeup today, instead of the lighter shades she uses she's used a sort of bruising purple. And it does this sort of thing in her eyes, that brings them out, dark and bright at the same time. The corner of her carefully applied red lip tuck is smudged in a corner. Eliza resists the urge to reach out at Maria's mouth and fix it.
"Um, hello Maria," she says instead. "Hi, uh—" but Maria doesn't let her finish.
"Hamilton," she greets Alexander curtly, staring at him with suspicious eyes. She doesn't say anything about his clothing, which is a blessing because maybe. Still, she bumps a shoulder against Eliza's, who stumbles backwards. And before she knows it, Maria is half standing in front of her, lips pursed and arms crossed.
"Is he bothering you?" It takes Eliza a few seconds to realize she's talking to her.
"What? Alex? No, I'm just–we're just—"
Maria gives her a incredulous look. "You are back together," she says.
Alex splutters. Eliza laughs, embarrassed.
"No, no, I'm just, uh, telling him to invite someone."
Maria's shoulders relax. "Ah, Laurens right?" Alex turns red. "Don't be like that Hamilton, everyone knows you want," she takes a careful look at Eliza's beaming face. "Well, to rip his clothes off and lock him up."
Eliza laughs harder, leaning into Maria's shoulder. "Oh my fucking—" she wheezes. Alex's face returns to its normal color.
"Well," he says adjusting his own bag on his shoulder. "She does make you laugh. Tell her." And he winks at her, gives a silly salute to Maria and is gone.
Maria turns with a amused look in her face. "What was that?"
Eliza hesitates. "Well—"
"Wait, wait just a sec!" Maria interrupts her, holding out a hand. She reaches out to rumage through her bag. After a while she takes out something. "Aha! Look I found—"
Eliza interrupts her. "I have something important to tell you," she says in a rush.
Maria lowers her hand slowly. "What happened? Are you alright?"
"It's Alex, he's trying to convince me to ask someone to prom."
Maria's smile fades. "Prom," she repeats
"Yeah, so come with me?"
"To where— oh, oh," Maria looks at her with wide eyes.
"So, well, do you want to go to prom with me?" Eliza asks in a rush. Maria turns to look at her, a startled look on her face. Eliza feels herself turning red. Dammit.
"You know," she hesitates. "Maybe, if you want to. Because I'm not like, forcing you or anything. And I," she swallows, her face burns hot. "I would really like it if you would go with me. So, what do you think?"
Eliza shoots Maria a weak smile. Maria looks at her with contemplative russet eyes. She slowly lets a smile slip into her face.
"I'd love—" Maria cuts herself off abruptly. She turns pale, looking right above Eliza's shoulder. "I can't. I'm sorry, I already told—um, told someone else I'd go with him."
Eliza opens her mouth to say something, anything, then closes it, because she herself said it, she's not going to force Maria to go with her. She grimaces, "Right. No worries, it's fine. Maybe I'll tell Laf or something—"
"Look, Elizabeth," Maria turns to Eliza, who can't help the flutter in her chest at hearing her name.
She tries to protest. "It's—"
"—Eliza, I know," Maria face relaxes for a rendition of a second. She glances behind Eliza once more, she bits her lip. "Look, I've gotta go. We'll talk about—well, lets talk about it later, alright?" She turns to go, the she turns and presses something to Eliza's hands. "Thanks," she says, before giving her one last careful look and then goes.
Eliza feels her heart thudding and feels, she feels—
She doesn't know what she's feeling.
And they don't talk about it anymore. They don't talk at all. Eliza feels her heart beat slower and slower. She passes Maria in the hallways, sees her in class but, she's taken sitting on desk far from hers. The notes in Calculus stop. She looks paler every week, she doesn't braid her hair like before, and she looks so sad. And Eliza wants to think that maybe it's because of her, but it leaves her with an unpleasant taste in her mouth, because what sort of person hopes for that? And if she was the cause should she be ashamed?
Alex asks John Laurens to prom, at lunch, in front of the whole school. He says Laurens had hesitated but then said yes.
"My dad's, well," Laurens grimaces, and Eliza understands. She takes his hand. "Well, with me and Alex as friends, we'll take care of you, alright?"
Laurens smiles hesitantly. "Thanks, Eliza."
Eliza receives a half dozen invites to prom, two girls and four guys. No one she's hopes for, she turns them back politely and tells them she's not going. It's a lie initially and then it becomes the truth. School finishes and she doesn't see Maria anymore and why should she go to prom? It's stupid, her Eliza Schuyler, moping about a girl. Still, the deed is done. By the time she contemplates to go, she hasn't got a date or a dress and prom's half a week away. So Eliza gives up and the day of the prom, she's on her house eating take out and watching TV. Peggy's gone, they got a suit with a matching yellow bowtie, their date hanging on their arm with a yellow dress.
She's in the middle of a Telenovela she half understands, because it doesn't have subtitles, when there's a heavy knock on her door. Eliza looks up from her pizza. There's another knock, louder and a shout: "Eliza!"
Eliza stands up, jogs to the door and wrenches it open. And there in the pouring rain, his blue suit wet and a desperate look in his eyes is John Laurens. "Oh, thank god, Eliza you have to come—"
"John!" Eliza exclaims, alarmed. "What are you—"
"You have to come she's hurt—"
"No, no, who's hurt? Wait, come inside let me get you something warm—"
"No," John leans forward and grabs her shoulders roughly. "Maria," he says. Eliza feels her heart start beating loudly. John swallows. "It's Maria, she's hurt, Alex saw them—"
"Them? John, fuck, you're not making any sense."
"Eliza, Eliza listen—" Eliza opens her mouth. "No, escúchame for a puto momento! I was with Alex and we went out from the party a little while, because he was feeling, y'know and at the parking lot, she was there. Maria was there with her boyfriend—"
Eliza purses her lips. Her heart hurts. "Look John—"
John turns pale, he grips her shoulders tightly. "He was hitting her," he shouts, his eyes wide. "He was– he was and she– she was crying and–and–" He look up at her helplessly, his golden eyes swimming with tears. "I couldn't stop it– I couldn't and—" he takes a shuddering breath, seems to come back to himself a little. "Alex told me to look for you and—"
Eliza seizes John away from her, and runs back to her house. She comes back with her dad's car keys in her hand, she's not wearing shoes. They take the car. Eliza drives and on the way, many times she fears she will crash by the way her hands tremble. She didn't know if she's trembling of fright or fury, —maybe both. John takes shotgun, his hair is plastered to his face and he keeps mumbling: "I couldn't stop him, he kept hitting her and she wasn't—"
Eliza gets the awful feeling he's not referring to Maria and her boyfriend,—no, her attacker,— anymore. She remembers how he used to talk about his father, how his mom died on an accident—She leans forward and presses down on the pedal.
Eliza's sure she breaks a hundred of
speeding limits that night, but when they arrive nine minutes later to the school, she doesn't care.
Eliza throws herself off the car as soon as they reach the parking lot, not bothering with locking it or grabbing the keys. She starts to run blindly, her heart hammering again her ribs. And then she hears it: "Stop it!"
She turns around and runs, barely aware of the half stumbling John at her wake. It's Maria's voice, there's the shouts of two men fighting and she just keeps running.
Her heart thuds. Maria, she thinks. Maria. Thump–Maria, thump-Maria, thump-Maria.
She turns left and there they are. Alex, his nose streaming blood, his suit mangled and bloody, pants from where he's trying to rise from the ground. John wheezes. At the other side is Maria, her hair a mess and her dark red dress torn in places, gripping her arm is the boy from the bus stop.
"James," she screams. "James, fucking let me go, stop it, James."
Eliza's heart boils. Alex, from where he's rising from the ground, shouts hoarsely: "Reynolds, fucking let her go."
From behind Eliza, she hears John wheeze. "Alex, no."
James, Eliza thinks viciously. James Reynolds.
She approaches the scene, Alex locks eyes with her, he shakes his head rapidly. Bad idea, he mouths. He looks pale under all the dirt and blood. Go, go. Eliza turns away.
"Hey," she shouts, her fists clenched on her sides. "James fucking Reynolds!"
James Reynolds turns, his blue eyes facing hers. Maria turns too, her mouth drops open, she struggles harder. No, no, get out of here, she mouths. Reynolds narrows his eyes.
"Isn't this your dyke friend, Mari?" Maria shakes her head desperately, she ties to meet her eyes. The message is clear: Get out of here. But for once, Eliza won't do what Maria asks of her. She stays rooted to the ground.
Alex wheezes form the ground. Eliza sees John ducking out of sight and the sound of him making a call.
She speaks up loudly, trying to cover the sound so the cops or whomever John is calling can get there in time. "I don't see how the fuck my sexual orientation gives you the right to hit my friend, asshole."
Reynolds barks out a dark laugh. "She's cute, trying to be all fierce and brave, I'll give it to her. It's too bad that she likes girls, she'd be an amazing prize." Eliza feels her blood boil when he calls her a prize. "But well," he turns to Maria, with a condescending smirk on his face. Maria glares at him with tears in her eyes. "At least I'll have you, right Mari?"
Maria clenches her teeth. "Let me go, James, please," she whispers.
Reynolds leans close. "Nah, I think I'll—"
But he doesn't get to finish his sentence because a blur comes flying from the air and strikes him right in the face. He howls and brings both hands to clutch his face. Maria seems ready for the moment, because she gathers up her dress and runs across the parking lot to where Alex is standing, face bloodied and a shoe missing.
"You little—" Reynolds rises up, his face is red and he has a shoe in his hand. He begins to prowl to Maria, so she and Alex run across the parking lot until they are standing in either side of Eliza. There's a thud of feet and John stands at Alex's other side.
Reynolds snarls and stalks across, Eliza instinctively reaches out on her pocket, but there's nothing, except— She takes out a set of heavy keys, takes a step back and throws them.
Spat! They strike Reynolds right across the nose. He stumbles out for a second, then keeps going, until Alex's other shoe hits him in the neck.
Eliza gets and idea. "Guys," she mumbles. "Hit him with everything you have!"
Maria, hands shaking, throws her high heeled shoes at Reynolds. John takes out his own shoes and throws them too, Alex grabs Maria's purse, lying in the ground and manages to hit him in the head.
Reynolds stumbles, his face is wet with blood, still he keeps going and John surges foward an arm outstreched, there's a crack and he falls to the floor like a sack of potatoes.
John wipes his bloodied knuckles on his suit. He spits at Reynolds' unconscious body. Alex runs up to him and gives him a hug, his shoulders shaking. "Fuck, Laurens, what—"
Eliza turns around. Maria is staring at her, her eyes wide, and a strange expression in her face. She suddenly doesn't know what to say.
"Maria, I—" An ambulance siren blares in the distance. Maria trembles and suddenly she's clutching Eliza close and crying.
Eliza swallows, trying not to cry and holds her close, burying her face in her hair.
A minute later and the police is there, and an ambulance follows. They take one look at the four half battered kids in the parking lot, without shoes and covered in blood and tears, and the tall form of a man in the floor, his face surrounded by shoes and call another ambulance.
Eliza climbs in the ambulance with Maria, there's blood in her cheek, her socks are wet, the nurses take on look at her glare and let her in. Maria's laying on a cot, a blanket draped over her, her face looks paler and the bruises more prominent now, with the white light of the ambulance.
Maria reaches out with her hand and pulls Eliza down until they are sharing the cot, the nurse purses her lips but says nothing.
"I'm sorry," Maria mumbles after a while. They should be nearing the hospital by now, Eliza thinks. "I should've—"
Eliza remembers not to hit her shoulder against hers. "Maria, don't be sorry. That guy, he had it coming. You shouldn't have done nothing, I mean I don't know how it feels like but," she looks at Maria's russet eyes. "I love you and you are my friend, so I'm going to be here supporting you, all the time, okay?"
"But," Maria says, and she sounds near tears now. "They're gonna ask me so many things, and I don't— I don't think I'm gonna be able to—" She chokes back a sob.
Eliza scoots a little closer. "If you don't want to speak to them, I'll handle it. I won't say anything you don't want me to, I swear," she adds quickly after catching Maria's wide eyed look.
Maria curls her knees. Her dirty feet hit Eliza's legs. She huffs a breath, but nods.
They get to the hospital, they put them on a room together, Maria's hand won't leave Eliza's arm. The warm fluttery feeling is gone. The nurses wrap Eliza's feet and give her some spare piyamas. Eliza leaves the room when they treat Maria's bruises. They give Maria a room and go to contact her mother. Eliza's discharged, but she stays anyway.
At the waiting room are Alex and John, still on their dirty suits, Alex's arm is bandaged, he's got stitches in his face, while John's only got his knuckles covered in a cream. They stand up when she wobbled there, her feet wrapped and stuck in slippers.
They talk for a while, painful awkward small talk and then she hugs them big and thanks them. She slips her keys in Alex's pockets, he's got a place in her house, his foster parents won't be pleased when he shows up with an hospital bill and a torn suit. He gives her a grateful smile.
As they go Eliza hears a snippet of their conversation.
"John you could have chosen not to get blood on your suit," Alex is saying, amusedly.
"Well," Eliza hears John say. "It was already wet, what's a little more, right?"
"You're going to get killed when you go home," Alex says. John laughs loudly, still a little tense, and then: "Then let's get it dirtier," he suggests as the door closes behind them. Eliza stifles a laugh.
She walks to Maria's room, opens the door gently not wanting to wake her. And is surprised to find her awake, her face is covered in bruises, but other than that she looks like the Maria she knows. Her hair is pulled back in a loose braid, her pijamas are pink.
Eliza leans on the door. "Hullo," she says hesitantly.
Maria smiles tightly. "Elizabeth," she whispers.
Eliza turns in the TV and settles on the sofa beside Maria's bed, they chat about nothing. Maria doesn't talk about Reynolds and Eliza doesn't say anything either. They watch a romance movie. And a day before, Eliza's heart would have raced and jumped and done all sort of flips, but it's still and quiet. It's all calm and warm. Maria lets out weak laughs at the silly parts and Eliza cracks a few jokes. She's falling asleep when Maria speaks: "—prom?"
Eliza blinks her eyes open. "I'm sorry what?"
Maria stares at her. "You missed prom?"
Eliza nods. "Why?"
Eliza's throat feels tight. She bits her lip. "When you—"
Maria looks at her, her eyes glint on the dark. "Okay, lets do prom," she says. And slowly climbs out of the bed. Eliza tries to stand up and she falls back in the sofa. Maria snatches Eliza's phone and taps away on it.
When Eliza finally manages to stand up, her hands hurt. Maria turns, there's music streaming from Eliza's phone. She grabs Eliza's hands softly and sways. Eliza follows her. Slowly they adjust positions, Eliza's hands on her shoulders, Maria curls a hand around Eliza's back. The music switches and it begins playing a vals. Eliza smiles amusedly, and sways to the right.
"I fucking hate vals," Maria groans, burying her face into her shoulder.
Eliza stifles a laugh. "I know."
The vals continues on the background as Maria spins her carefully, making sure she's doesn't put too much weight on her feet. She leans close to Eliza.
"Hey?"
"Mmmh?" Eliza answers looking carefully at her feet.
"I like you a lot Eliza," Maria says. Eliza looks up, startled by Maria not calling her Elizabeth like always. She laughs, and bents her face close. "I know."
They spin around and laugh loudly. Eliza sings at the tune of the vals: "Doubt the stars are fire, doubt the sun spins, doubt what I say to you—"
Maria smiles. "I know." And the song changes.
And they dance half an hour, to the vals, some salsa and Green Day songs. Eliza knows it might be alright, someday. They still have much to go through, the questions that surely'll come tomorrow, the parents they'll have to face,—Eliza's worried ones, Maria's crying mother, John's cold and shallow father and Alex's indifferent foster parents,— and that a night of dancing and hugging won't fix what's been broken. Still, Eliza looks at Maria humming softly at the vals as they dance, and knows it'll be alright.
Senior year, Eliza thinks. Fucking terrifying. But worth it at the end. She takes whiff of Maria's hair, it smells like strawberries and mud, and she smiles.