In the past, I had always enjoyed planning out my Halloween costumes beforehand. I'd stopped trick-or-treating at twelve, but I usually attended parties nowadays. I'd gone as an angel last year, with wings I'd made myself, but I'd grown two inches since then, and the dress I'd bought to go with it was too short. I hadn't considered that before accepting Scott's impromptu invitation, so I knew I'd have to throw something together in the few hours I had left before the party.

I'd gone to Scott's track meet earlier that day, since I hadn't been too busy. My mother went most weeks, and my father when he wasn't already preoccupied with work. All three of us attending one was rare-we'd only gone the day I'd spoken to Soda because the season had just started, and none of us had really had much work to do. But I'd figured I owed it to him to try and make it that Saturday.

We'd gotten home at three o'clock; the party started at six, so I had a few hours to figure out what to wear. All I had in my closet were regular clothes-wool skirts and blouses with a couple of dresses-I needed to get creative. I watched a lot of movies in my free time, or I used to, and I figured I could come up with something from one of those. I sat down on my bed and thought for a minute.

The last movie I'd seen had been the one at the drive-in that night with Marcia. I hadn't had the time to see one since then, nor the desire to go out as much as I used to. So much had happened that night that I hardly even remembered the movie, either.

I'd watched Roman Holiday with Bob over the summer-one of the movie theaters had been screening it one sweltering night in July, and it was one of my favorites. I'd been disappointed when he hadn't enjoyed it as much as I had, but I still cherished the memory. I cherished all of them, because I didn't have nearly enough. We'd gotten ice creams and walked around downtown for what had felt like hours afterwards, laughing and talking like we'd been together our whole lives instead of only a couple of months. It had been the first time in weeks somebody had told me they loved me. And, for once, it hadn't ended in a fight.

I spotted a blue skirt with a clasp at the top that I'd bought myself when I'd turned sixteen in March. It sort of resembled the one Audrey Hepburn had worn in the movie when she'd played Princess Ann, so I took a closer look at it. I had a nice button-up shirt that could go with it, and a silk necktie. I wasn't quite sure how to do my hair to match hers-I usually just wore it down and pinned back-so I tied it up into a bun. I doubted anyone would recognize my costume, but it was the best I could do.

When I finally looked at myself in the mirror, I didn't know what to think. Here I was, finally going out again after almost a whole month, and I was in it alone. Scott had meant well, but I knew he'd be off with Jenny and Alan the whole time, and I'd be the one moping in a corner of the room, wishing I could just call my mother to come and pick me up. I'd gone to some parties I hadn't enjoyed, sure, but I'd always found a way to at least socialize a little. But that had been back when people had wanted to speak to me.

With just three real friends left, and only one that could even come close to reaching me, I had never felt more alone in my life. I spotted Bob's old ring on my bedside table; I'd slipped a chain though it and wore it as a necklace on occasion. I figured I'd wear it and tuck it under my scarf. No one would see it, and I'd have at least a small feeling someone else was there with me.

I didn't have much else to do for the rest of the afternoon, so I started the weekend's homework. I had a physics paper due in two weeks that I knew I wouldn't have time for later on. Scott called me downstairs after a while, saying that his best friend Alan was here. Alan was on the track team, too, and competed in saddle bronc events on the weekends. I'd seen him at rodeos before. Marcia and I both barrel raced, but I hadn't competed in a while. I mostly did it in the summer, anyways. I hadn't lost interest-I loved horses, even asked for one of my own for my twelfth birthday-but I'd lost motivation. I wanted to compete again, though. It was one of my favorite hobbies, and had been for a while. I was pretty decent, too-I usually got about sixteen seconds on a race.

I came downstairs to see Scott standing in the foyer, dressed as a cowboy, no doubt inspired by Gunsmoke, his favorite television program. "Who are you supposed to be?" he asked when he saw me.

"Princess Ann," I answered. Scott shrugged. "From Roman Holiday. I had to come up with something fast."

"Never seen it," Scott said. "Come on, Alan's waiting outside."

He called up to my father that we'd be back by eleven thirty, and the two of us started across the lawn toward Alan's white Impala. He was waiting for us in the front seat, in a Superman costume. He and Scott had both always loved to read comic books. "Hey, Scott," he said, grinning warmly.

"Hey," Scott replied, getting into the backseat of the car. "Listen, there was a change of plans yesterday. Mind if we bring Sherri along?"

I vastly preferred my nickname over my given name, but it had only caught on with my close friends. My whole family still addressed me as Sherri, including Scott, which had led to his friends using it, too. My parents frowned upon the idea of calling me anything else, and I didn't hate it, anyways. People had given me hell when that Frankie Valli song had come out the summer before freshman year, but they'd stopped soon enough.

"No problem," Alan reassured him. He turned to me. "You'd better sit in the front. We're picking up Jenny."

I smiled and climbed into the passenger seat. Jenny was Scott's longtime girlfriend (two and a half years was a while, especially when you were eighteen). I liked her a lot. She was on the debate team, and in the drama club, so she was real smart, even smarter than Nancy. She could sing and act, too. She'd been Hermia in last year's fall production of A Midsummer Night's Dream, and Laurey in Oklahoma! in the spring. The fall play, A Streetcar Named Desire, was set for a week from tonight, and Scott had told me she'd made the lead in that, too. Jenny was humorous and outspoken, and I looked up to her a lot. She reminded me a bit of myself, or at least, the person I used to be.

"How's it been with you, Alan?" Scott asked. "Great job on the sixteen-hundred today."

"You, too," Alan replied. "I've been good. Got twenty bucks for my report card."

I wished my report card had been worthy of twenty dollars. I'd never gotten money for one, since straight A's was the bare minimum for my parents to be proud of me. When I got an especially good one, my parents took us out for a nice dinner the next night, but such an occasion was rare. That had only happened twice, when I'd somehow managed to get an A in every subject I took.

Jenny lived closer to Kathleen, in a cul-de-sac off of the street parallel to hers. Alan stopped the car in front of her house, and Scott got out to ring the doorbell.

"I haven't seen you in a while, Sherri," he told me. "How've you been? Did Scott invite you?"

"He did," I answered. "I wasn't planning on coming, actually. Kathleen and I sort of fell out last time. And I've been alright, thanks."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Alan replied. I hoped he didn't ask what had happened. I didn't want to talk about it, especially not with him.

Neither Scott nor his friends engaged in the habits of the other guys I knew. Scott was decently popular, but he was responsible, too. That, and my parents would get angry at him if they found out he was drinking. I'd seen Alan drink at parties before, but he was eighteen, so it was legal for him, and he never got drunk. Scott was eighteen, too, but my parents didn't want him doing stuff like that. My grandfather had really had a problem with it back when my mother was a kid, and though he was sober now, she didn't want him to take any risks, understandably so.

Luckily, Scott returned to the car with Jenny soon enough, and Alan started up the engine again. "Hi," she greeted us. "Sherri, I didn't know you were coming. Glad to see you-I love your costume."

"Thanks," I replied. I recognized Jenny as Holly Golighty in her little black dress and costume jewelry. I'd always been a fan of Audrey Hepburn. "I like yours, too."

We all made small talk in the three minutes it took us to reach Kathleen's place. Once Alan parked his car by the side of the house, I was surprised at how distant it seemed to me. It used to be so welcoming, with its large, brightly lit windows, and second-story balcony, but now it felt far-off and cold, and it wasn't the Halloween decorations, either. I braced myself for when Kathleen opened the door, but to my surprise, it was Mike who came out to greet us. In all the years I'd known him, I'd never been so glad to see him before. In spite of myself, I chuckled when I saw he was dressed as Gilligan, with a red sweater and navy cap.

"Nice to see you four," he told us, holding the door open. We stepped inside the house, where the party was already in full swing. "Wasn't sure if y'all were coming or not."

"You, too, Mike," Scott said. He'd never been Mike's biggest fan, either. "Hey, I'll catch you later on. Me and Alan were gonna see if we could find Roger somewhere." Roger was another guy on the track team. I didn't know him very well, but he was close friends with Scott.

"Sounds good," Mike replied, and Scott walked off with Alan, Jenny holding his hand. Mike turned back to me. "You're Princess Ann, right? From Roman Holiday?"

I smiled at him, secretly hoping for a chance to go talk to someone else. "I am," I said. "You know that movie?"

"It's Kathleen's favorite," Mike answered. "Look, Cherry. I'm really glad you came tonight. I've been wanting to talk to you. Kathleen-she's really torn up about this whole thing. It's been keeping her awake at night. And I'm sorry about Susan."

"Don't apologize for Susan," I replied. "She needs to learn how to do that for herself."

"Yeah," Mike sighed. "She does. To be honest"-he laughed sardonically-"I don't know what I see in her. I just can't believe she would do something like that. She knows I've been trying to quit."

"You?" I gasped. Mike frowned. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound rude. Mike, that's great to hear."

It really was. If none of Bob's other friends could get their acts together, I was glad Mike finally was. He'd really had a problem with it-more so than Bob or Randy ever had. Bob drank because no one had ever told him not to. Mike drank because he thought it was cool. But it wasn't cool. It was irresponsible, and Mike was sixteen-a whole year younger than Randy or David or James. Another guy-one I didn't know-named Bill, had been involved that night, too. But it wasn't legal for any of them, except for James, who was eighteen already. Mike drank because he wanted to fit in with the older guys, who only knew him for being Kathleen's brother on the football team. So Mike drank more than they did-and held it better, too.

"No, it's alright," Mike said. "Come on. I've always been the guy who can down a whole can of beer in one sip and still have room for more. But it's really gotten out of hand. Randy's smart. I'm sorry he didn't show up. I hope it's not because of Susan."

"It is," I told him. "He doesn't want to risk anything. He's real serious about getting sober. And Marcia's just tired of all this. We both are."

"I've really gotta talk to her," Mike replied. "I don't know where she is. She's supposed to be Mary Ann."

"Oh, I've never seen the show," I said. Gilligan's Island aired on Thursday nights at eight, when I was normally out with friends or Bob or doing homework. "Too busy to watch much TV, but I know Scott likes it. Is it any good?"

"Yeah," Mike answered. "It is. You should catch it sometime. Hey, I gotta go talk to Isaac, but I'll see you later. You should find Kathleen. She really wants to see you."

"I'll try," I lied. I wasn't ready to talk to Kathleen, and I didn't know when I would be. "Hope I can talk to you later, Mike."

I'd meant that. Mike had surprised me. Maybe I'd misjudged him, as I often did with other people. He'd done some horrible things in his past, but was he willing to change? I hoped he was. Everything had gotten better for Randy when he'd quit drinking-his grades, his performance in football, everything. Randy had learned and grown from his mistakes, and it looked like Mike would, too.

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The rest of the night was surprisingly easy to get through. I couldn't find Gary anywhere, and I'd even been able to make some small talk with Debbie, as well as a few other people I hadn't met before. I'd seen both Nancy, dressed as a cowgirl, and Kathleen, who had worked her trademark beehive into a Bride of Frankenstein-inspired costume, but I'd managed to ignore both of them, no matter how much my mind was telling me just to forgive and forget. Eventually, around nine thirty, I settled down near the snack table, something I usually never did at parties. I was always part of the action, instead of just watching it from aside.

I spotted a girl, all the way across the the living room floor, her arms wrapped tightly around a guy I recognized from the swim team. A slower song was playing-Elvis's "Can't Help Falling in Love," the only one of his I could stand-and the two of them were dancing to the sound, eyes fixated on each other. I studied them for a minute. That had once been me, and I couldn't help but miss it. Bob's birthday was quickly approaching, on the ninth of November, and it was the very last thing I wanted to think about. Seeing everybody else so happy just reminded me of the fact that no one had held me like that in a very, very long time. But I wasn't ready for that again, I thought to myself, slipping a finger through the ring that was still dangling from my neck. Not yet.

After a few minutes, I saw Jenny out of the corner of my eye. She smiled, punch in hand, and approached me.

"Enjoying the party?"

"Huh?" I startled a little. "Oh, yeah. I was just getting a drink. Where's Scott?"

Jenny sighed. "Oh, he's downstairs. Kathleen's got a ping-pong table. Look, I'm sorry we, well, abandoned you. You sure you're having a good time? I heard about what happened. Susan's really gotten to everyone, hasn't she?"

"I'm alright," I replied. "And it's fine. We've got two different groups of friends. I'm glad I came."

"Good to hear that," she said. "Well, I think I'm gonna go find your brother. I'll see you later, Sherri. Try a cupcake. They're really good."

I laughed. Kathleen had made some vanilla cupcakes, and frosted them to look like jack-o-lanterns. She always made her own snacks. That was why her parties were my favorites.

I could have stood there forever, just watching the party. I was an extrovert; to me, there was nothing like a good get-together to finish out the week, but I found the time I spent with myself equally as fulfilling. And there was so much to watch. A game of spin the bottle, Mike attempting to stack empty soda cans on top of each other-

Gary locking eyes with me from the basement door.

He made his way across the room, and I knew it was too late to duck back into the crowd. I braced myself for what was coming. It had been fun while it lasted.

"How about that dance?" Gary had a smug look on his face, as if he was thinking he could charm his way into this.

"I already said no," I replied, looking him dead in the eyes. He wasn't going to ruin my night, not this time. "Just back off, Gary. There really aren't any other girls who can put up with you for more than four minutes?"

I knew I was getting angry, but I didn't care. I had to say something. I hadn't allowed myself to fight back since that night at the Dingo.

Gary scowled. "One dance and I'll leave you alone."

"I thought you'd leave me alone once I told you it was over," I shot back, crossing my arms over my chest. "You aren't really that desperate, are you? Coming in for me the minute there's no one who'd beat you up if you did?"

"Come on." Gary rolled his eyes. "We had something, didn't we?"

"We were never anything," I said. "Go find someone else to bother. I'm not in the mood to argue, especially not with you. I thought you'd be over it by now. I know I am."

I always fell for the troublemakers, whether I liked it or not. Gary was something else, though. I was wrong about him. He wasn't a good guy. I'd been easy on him before, chalking it up to him just still having feelings for me. But enough was enough.

"What's the worst thing that could happen if you did?" Gary asked.

"I don't want to dance with someone who has to convince me I should," I snapped. "I've had enough. Now leave me alone, or I'll get Scott."

Gary stuffed his hands in his pockets and went back down to the basement, slamming the door behind him. I was normally pretty distraught after something like that, but it'd felt good to stand up to Gary. I was surprised at myself. Were things starting to get better?

About three minutes later, Scott came over to me. "I heard Gary was bothering you again."

Scott had never liked Gary, nor had my parents. I'd never been able to understand why, up until a while ago. "He was," I replied. "I hope you didn't escalate it."

"I cussed him out," Scott told me. I gaped at him.

"You?" I asked.

Scott rolled his eyes. "You don't have to sound so surprised. I needed to do something. He won't be bothering you anymore."

"Thanks," I said. Scott put a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't mention it," he sighed. "Should I drive you home, or do you want to stay here a while longer? I can borrow Alan's car. Jenny's parents want her home by ten thirty, so we've got about forty-five minutes to lose."

"I'm good," I said. "I'll bet she was shocked to hear you and Gary."

"She was," Scott replied. "I'm never doing that again, though. Didn't know I had it in me."

I laughed. "Thanks, Scott. I didn't know you had it in you, either."

"Real funny," said Scott with a smirk. "Why don't you come down to the basement and play some ping-pong? I'm pretty sure Gary left, and none of your old friends are down there, either."

"Sure, I will," I answered, and the two of us walked down the steps to the basement. For once, I was actually having a nice time. I didn't have Gary to worry about anymore. I knew that wasn't my biggest problem, but I was happy to finally have gotten rid of him. Things were getting better for me, and I wasn't going to let anyone ruin that.

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A/N: Yes, I know Dally's birthday is also November ninth. Since Bob is the only character without a canonical birthday (lol), I thought I'd do something with that. I also have a bit of an announcement.

So, the night of Christmas Eve, I couldn't sleep. In my seemingly never-ending state of restlessness, an idea suddenly came to me. What if I wrote a sequel to The Aftermath? I know nobody asked, but I'm probably going to do it, anyways, once I'm done with this one. I'd been thinking about it for some time, and now, since I'm saying it here, I have to do it. It would be set in 1988, and be told in a series of flashbacks. I know many people have different interpretations of Cherry and Bob's relationship and how long it went on for, but I think it was a summer romance cut short by his sudden death. There would be another plot, too-the main storyline in 1988-but it would also have the flashbacks, sort of making it two stories. I'm not sure how I will pull this off yet, as I am still thinking it out. By the way, I have many spur-of-the-moment ideas, so this is all subject to change.

Also, a note. I don't like their relationship. I feel like I need to say this, especially after writing something like leather and wool, which makes it seem like a sort of fairytale. It was not. I don't think it was a good relationship, and I am trying so, so hard not to romanticize stuff like that. The sequel would make that very clear, and so will the character development in this story. I thought about just doing a prequel, but scratched that idea because I don't want to write a romance, especially not one about a horrible relationship. Me saying this doesn't mean I think Bob was just a trash human being with no redeeming qualities whatsoever (I did redeem him a bit in leather and wool), but he did some really horrible things and I absolutely cannot condone or justify any of it. What he did to Johnny (one of my absolute favorite characters in any book ever) was unforgivable, and he was extremely possessive towards Cherry. So, no, I really, really don't like Bob Sheldon, and I feel like that needed to be said. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you are looking forward to the sequel. This was quite the rant. If you made it to the end of this, I applaud you.