A/N: Wow, the response to this fic has been surprising and overwhelming! I never knew Flipped had such a sizable fanbase! Thanks for your kind words and your patience, you guys.
Everything is a blur when they arrive at the hospital. She's confused by the hallways and corridors that all look the same, the strong scent of alcohol and astringent that never fail to tie her stomach up into knots, the nurses in pastel-colored scrubs, and the squeak of their shoes against the white tiles. Finally, they are led into the room where they were keeping Uncle David.
Juli finds herself hovering at the foot of his bed, cringing at all of the machines they had connected to him. She's never liked hospitals.
"He's asleep now, and in stable condition," the nurse tells them, checking his stats. Her father lets out a silent sigh of relief. "But the doctor would like to have a word with you, Mr. Baker."
He looks at her and says, quietly, "Stay here and watch after him for a minute, Juli," before her father follows the nurse into the hallway. They shut the door behind them and Juli slowly walks to his bedside, taking a seat.
She hears his pulse on the monitor, but she watches his face. She softly lays her hand on top of his and whispers hello. He doesn't stir one bit.
When her dad comes back in, the worried furrow in his brow has returned. He looks wearier, too, as if they'd just given him bad news. Juli stands up and lets him take her seat.
"Is everything okay?"
"They said he's fine, for now," he sighs, sitting down. "But he's getting old, and his tantrums are likely to cause more strokes in the future. They want to put him on more medication, to calm him down."
Juli tries to read her father's face. "I take it that's a bad thing?"
"It's both a good and a bad thing, Juli," he says, resting his chin on his hand, watching his brother on the hospital bed. "Like so many other things in life, both a good and a bad thing."
Juli settles on the seat at the foot of the bed. Suddenly, she hears her stomach growl. She's forgotten she hasn't eaten a thing since breakfast, and she'd been so worried about Uncle David that she hadn't even realized she was starving until she'd taken a minute to settle down.
"I'm going to go down to see what they have at the cafeteria," she announces, standing up. Her father nods, lost in his thoughts, not saying a word. She goes out the door, not exactly knowing where the cafeteria was, but not really minding. She knows that her father needed some alone time with Uncle David; something that she was happy to give.
ooo
Chet is closely observing his grandson as Bryce drives them home – something that Bryce fails to notice because of the whirlwind of thoughts he was having about Juli Baker.
"Bryce, I'm glad there aren't any children out and about right now," Chet says, finally speaking up, "because that's the second stop sign you've run without even noticing."
His thoughts simmer away as he blinks, taking in what his grandfather had said. He hesitantly slows down, and focuses on the road.
"Or cops, for that matter." Chet pauses thoughtfully. "What's gotten you so distracted?"
Bryce answers absentmindedly, letting another car pass. "Juli left in a hurry. Something happened, but I don't know what."
A furrow appears in the middle of Chet's eyebrows. "And you don't know where she went?"
"No," he says, vividly flashing back to their confrontation outside of the bookstore. He feels the knot in his throat return. "She. . . she didn't tell me."
Chet falls back into silence as they turn into their street. Bryce wants to ask him if he knows anything – since he knew he and Juli were close – and on that thought, begins to feel a tinge of jealousy. His grandfather had an automatic bond with Juli, even before the two of them ever got close. What if Chet knew something that he needed to know? His grandfather, though known to give out sage advice from time to time, had a tendency of sitting back and just watching things happen.
He turns the engine off. "You don't know, do you?"
"I believe," Chet sighs, "I am just as lost as you are, Bryce."
ooo
When Juli returns to the hospital room, Uncle David is awake and her father is speaking to him quietly. She can see that Uncle David is still under the influence of the drugs they medicated him with, and he looks at her father with glazed and unfocused eyes through his large brown glasses.
"Look, David, it's Julianna. You remember her, don't you? My daughter?"
David looks at her for a long minute, as if trying to remember. Then a lazy smile crawls across his face. "Ju-weee-an-na," he says hoarsely.
"Hi Uncle David," she smiles back. "How are you feeling?"
He blinks, but his eyes stay closed for a long moment. "Tiwwwwed."
"You should sleep, David," her father says to him, and David nods, closing his eyes again. In a minute he begins to snore.
"After he sleeps off the drugs, he'll be back to normal," he says to her, a little apologetically. She can see on his face that he's worn out, too.
"I brought you some jello and a sandwich," Juli says, handing them to him. She'd had the same thing, down at the cafeteria, while sitting with some nurses. They had gabbed to her about their boyfriends and families and hadn't let her come back to Uncle David's room until they were all done with their lunch break. She hadn't minded. She'd needed the distraction.
"Thanks, Sweetheart, but we should get home. I called your mother and told her that everything was okay."
"Are you sure you don't want to stay a little bit longer?" Juli asks, glancing at her snoring Uncle David. They had only been here for about two hours.
"I'll visit again tomorrow, when he's back at Greenhaven," he smiles at her. "Now, come on. Your mother said she'd keep our dinner warm."
ooo
When they finally get home, it's dark. The houses have all lit their porch lights and Juli spies the light in Bryce's room as they turn into their driveway. She feels the same nervousness and unease as she thinks about facing him again. In the cafeteria and much of the drive home, she couldn't keep her thoughts from wandering back to him. Suddenly she wishes she had explained why she had left the bookstore in such a hurry, but a part of her knows that she had omitted the fact to spite him. A side of her emerged whenever she saw Bryce with another girl – the ugly, jealous part of her that she wanted nothing to do with, yet was every bit as entangled with all of her good qualities.
Her mother was waiting up for them, and had kept their food in the oven. She greets both Juli and her father with a long hug, whispering how glad she was that Uncle David was all right, before joining her father with a glass of wine at the dinner table. Juli, however, begins to head up to her room.
"Aren't you hungry, honey?"
"No, I think the sandwich and jello pretty much did it for me," she answers. It was true. Coming back home, she had lost much of her appetite.
"By the way, Juli, Bryce stopped by here earlier." She looks up to meet both her parents' eyes, both inquisitive. "He was looking for you. I told him you and your father had gone to see your Uncle David."
Juli, trying to seem unfazed by this piece of information, nods and says okay, heading up to her room. She changes into her pajamas and grabs a book from her shelf and starts at the beginning. But as she reads, she finds herself unable to keep up. Her eyes are on the page but her mind is elsewhere – on the boy who lived across the street.
There were times she felt anxious to graduate from high school and go to Stanford. Entering a larger reality, she thought, would make things like childhood crushes shrink in significance. After all, maybe if they weren't living across the street from each other anymore, it would be easier for her. Maybe if the town wasn't so small, she would be over him by now. She would be able to live her life in peace, spending the better part of her days doing anything but longingly wondering about him.
Sometime later, her door creaks open. She looks over her book to see her father. He smiles at her but softly closes the door, sitting at the foot of her bed.
"Your mother tells me that the prom is tomorrow." He stops, as if pausing for her to say something. She doesn't. "And that you've decided not to go."
Juli sighs. She thinks of the untouched prom dress hanging in her closet, with the tags still on. "I'm just not really interested, Dad."
"See, I'll respect that," he says to her. "Your mother insists that I convince you to go, but you are an adult capable of making up your own mind, and I respect your decision." He looks at her for a moment, seriously, and Juli puts down her book. "But I worry about you, honey."
"Really, Dad, I'm fine. It's no big deal," she says. "I just. . . it's not really my scene."
In her mind she's already been to the prom. The gym is impeccably decorated with silver balloons and streamers, somebody's spiked the punch bowl, and the line to the girl's bathroom goes for a mile, filled with raccoon-eyed girls crying over their dates dancing with somebody else. But the one thing she can never place is Bryce. Is he dancing with Cindy Frisch? Or is he across the gym, walking towards her, about to ask her for a dance?
He looks at her for a second, before giving her a gentle smile. He pats her on the shoulder and then kisses her forehead. "All right, all right. I won't pry. That's your mother's job." He rises from her bed, heading towards her door.
Then he pauses. "Just one last thing, kiddo," he says. "The last thing anyone wants is for their life to be defined by the What Ifs."
And then he was gone.
ooo
"Are you sure you don't want to go to the prom, Juli?"
It's the night of the prom, and her mom is still concerned over the fact that she is the only senior in town that is skipping it. Juli doesn't hold it against her; her mother just has very romantic ideas of teenage girldom and hates the idea of her daughter missing out.
Juli is at the kitchen table, eating pudding from a cup. "I'm positive."
She sighs. "I don't like the idea of you being home alone like this. Won't you please at least come out with me and your father?"
"She'll be fine," Mr. Baker says, coming down the stairs, fixing his tie. "She'll be bored to death, anyway. I'm sure she'll find something to do here, won't you, kiddo?" he smiles, giving her a wink.
"Don't worry about me, Mom," Juli says, standing to help her dad with his tie. "I'll be fine. You two have fun, and try not to fall asleep at the table."
Her parents had been invited to a dinner with Mrs. Loski's partners tonight. Patsy was hired by a law firm in town and she had invited the Bakers in an effort to not feel so alone with the suits.
"All right, honey, no parties," her dad says to her, kissing her on the forehead. "Or at least have it all cleaned up by 11."
Her mom leans in for a hug, rolling her eyes. "Take care, sweetie. And the dress is still in your closet in case you end up changing your mind," she whispers into her ear. She gives her a kiss on the cheek.
Juli walks her parents out and waves goodbye as their car disappears around the corner. As she's outside she sees familiar cars drive by, full of seniors heading to the prom, and she can hear the distant click of heels against the sidewalk as some of them prepare to leave. She looks up at the Loskis' house and notices Bryce's light is on upstairs. She wonders if he's getting ready for the prom, too, and if he's ended up taking Cindy Frisch, after all.
ooo
"The prom, huh?"
Chet is sitting on the armchair in the living room, watching his mother help him with his bow tie over his Hemingway. Bryce knows his grandpa liked to reread the same books over and over again. In the time he'd been living here, this was the third time he'd seen him reading his favorite Hemingway.
"I can't believe you're already going to the prom," his mother says, shaking her head. "And then going to college! My, the years just go by, don't they?"
She finishes and steps back, as Bryce straightens up. She looks at him in silence for a long moment. He notices the way her eyes begin to water.
"Mom, you're not going to cry, are you?" Bryce says.
"Of course not," she says quickly, but her voice wavers and she shoos him away. "Go, go, or you'll be late. Are you going to be taking Cindy out to dinner first? I called and made reservations just in case."
"Actually," he says. "I'm not taking Cindy."
Behind his mother, Chet puts down his book.
She blinks slowly. "You're not?"
"Yeah. Change of plans," he says, and his hands start to sweat. The fact is that he had never officially asked Cindy to the prom; she had assumed. And he, himself, hadn't been too keen on going to the prom either, until his mother had come home one afternoon with his tux. Apparently she had taken his measurements while he had been sleeping. And he couldn't bring himself to tell her that he had never planned to go to the prom, knowing how much she had enjoyed her own prom. For the past two weeks she'd crooned about how much fun he was going to have, and how handsome he was going to look in his tux. He wanted to give this to her, especially with the messy way the divorce was going.
"So who are you taking?"
If he looked closely, he would have suspected something in the hopeful way her eyebrows raised. Even Chet, who seemed particularly disinterested in the prom (he had never gone to his – then again, did they even have proms back when he went to high school?), is sitting attentively.
"I'm going alone," he just says.
"Oh." His mother looks faintly disappointed. "Well, be a gentleman, at least, and ask a few girls to dance?"
He tells his mother of course and gives her a kiss on the cheek, before heading out the door. He doesn't stick around to see his mother and Chet quickly exchange looks, because he is already getting into his car. From his rearview mirror he gives one long look at the Bakers' house behind him, before driving away.
ooo
The night air is warm enough that she gets away with being able to step out of her car in just the dress. She doesn't know how her mother had done it; she hadn't even gone with her to look for the dress, nor had they ever talked about it. Juli had just come home one night and saw it displayed on her bed. It was an emerald green, long and silky – nothing like the poofy pink numbers she's seen displayed on the store fronts. It was simple, and clean, and it was perfect.
She's holding her heels in her hand, walking towards the playground in bare feet. It's a full moon tonight and it's brightened up her otherwise very dimly lit sanctuary.
She settles down on one of the swings, dropping her heels to the ground. As she propels herself, little by little, she doesn't know what she's expecting from tonight – from going to the prom. It hadn't been her plan. After her parents left, she had been alone in the quiet, empty house, and her father's words kept echoing back to her. She thought about Bryce and she hated how open-ended she had left things between them. It was unlikely, but maybe tonight, at the prom, she would see him and know how things were finally supposed to end. Maybe tonight she would finally get to see him in the proper light, once and for all.
So she'd turned off the television, tucked the leftovers back into the fridge, and cut the tags off from the dress hanging in her closet. Walking out to her car, she'd looked over at the Loskis. She could see Chet reading in his armchair. He looked up and gave a small wave, which she returned. But her eyes focused in on their empty driveway: Bryce's BMW was nowhere to be found.
She's come here to settle her nerves. After ten minutes of trying to release her nervous energy from rocking back and forth on the swings, savoring the feel of the breeze in her hair, she picks up her shoes from the ground and slowly gets up from the rubber seat. And then she stops.
"Hey," he says to her.
She silently takes in a breath.
He's in his tux, and behind him she can see where he had haphazardly parked his car; right alongside hers. She feels so many things at once, seeing him here. Confusion and nervousness and anticipation, all humming inside her. Her thoughts are restless but the rest of her is frozen in wanton expectation. She reminds herself to breathe. Breathe, Juli. He's just Bryce. Just Bryce.
"What are you doing here?"
"I saw you," he answers. "And I had a feeling you'd be here."
She stands there and takes in the serious lines of his face, the intensity of his eyes. His bowtie is in perfect symmetry; it almost makes her smile.
"Where's Cindy?" she asks him. She doesn't see anybody else waiting in his car, and because of that, she allows herself to feel that little flicker of hope.
"At the prom," he says to her. "With Garrett, I think." He pauses, then, just looking at her. She fidgets under his gaze, and her fingers fumble with the strap of her shoes.
"Where's Nick?"
"At the prom," she answers. "With Kelly McDonald."
He nods. "Oh." He combs a hand through his hair. "Listen, Juli, about that night. . ."
ooo
He'd planned out what to say to her. A million different scenarios with a million different ways to say exactly one thing: that he wanted her, Juli Baker, and it had been so for a very long time. But pacing around in his room, or lying down on his bed waiting to drift off to sleep, or watching her window from his driveway – he could think clearly, then. She was nowhere near. She wasn't physically there, in front of him, in this amazing dress, looking so damn perfect in the moonlight that just from one glance at her, words no longer made sense. If he had his way, he would spend five minutes stupidly looking at her, before leaning in to give her one hell of a kiss. But Juli Baker deserves more than that. She deserves so much more, but he figures an explanation is among the top three.
He nervously runs his fingers through his hair. "Listen, Juli, about that night. . ." He pauses, catching the way her brown eyes searched his. "When I kissed you, I meant it."
He watches her face carefully. His heart is pounding so hard against his ribcage that he thinks it's possible he might pass out. He lowers his voice. "It's always been you, Juli. Just you."
For a second he sees Juli up in her sycamore again, up so dangerously high – there was no other girl that would have braved it. No other girl that would have wanted to. Then he sees her again, when he had been planting her new sycamore, that small wave she had given him from the window. All of it represented some kind of hope, for him. All of it had represented something so much bigger.
A slow smile appears on her face. Then, suddenly, he feels her fingers weaving into his own.
"Well, come on," she says, pulling him along. "Or we'll be late."
He looks after her in confusion. "To what?" he asks dumbly.
"To the prom," she says, glancing back at him, her eyes shining.
It takes a second for him to realize her unspoken acceptance. He stops in his step. "Wait a minute." He pulls her back to him, and before she can ask him what he's doing, he's cupped her face in his hand and has kissed her. He kisses her, and kisses her – for a long time, until it's his turn to pull her along.
"Now," he says, "we can go."