When I open my mailbox on April 2nd, a flurry of pastel-colored envelopes fall out and collect at my feet.

I don't get excited over girly things, but these invitations are so exquisite that I cannot help but gasp when I open them. Ribbons, cardstock, and calligraphy spell out my schedule for the weekend of the Carnation Festival. I am invited to pool parties, get-to-know-you parties, and cotillion balls. All the while, I must be dressed in my Sunday best.

As much as I despise dressing up, the invitations make the days go by faster. I pin each one to the wall above my desk, and they act as silent motivators. I have to finish my coursework, I have to clean my room, I have to go to my shift at the video store before I can return to Lillian.

Quite suddenly, it's April 28, and Mrs. Kaznyck is waiting outside our house. I'll be staying the whole weekend with her.

I'm lugging my suitcase out the door when Louis enters the front hallway.

"The first time I saw Elizabeth was at the Carnation Festival," Louis says. "She was the prettiest damn thing I ever saw."

This confirms what I already know: Louis loved Monica, but he loved Elizabeth.

"You should've married her, Dad," I mumble. The screen door slams shut behind me.

-x-

The drive is long, but it always is when you're anxious about where you're going. When we finally pull up in the Kaznyck's driveway, I feel myself breathe for the first time in two hours.

"Mrs. Kaznyck, who's my escort?" I ask as we unload my suitcase. "On the forms it said that the Festival ladies pick an escort for you if you're a Duchess."

"I'm not sure, Alice," she says. "I'd have to ask the Escort Chairmen. But you know all the young men here in Lillian. Anyone you get will be lovely."

"I guess so," I say as I open the front door. I am immediately accosted by camera and a boom mike.

"What the hell?" I snap, trying to bat the mike away.

"We're doing a documentary on debutantes!" Charles announces from behind the camera. "Well, you're not a real debutante, but we're doing one on the Carnation Festival. How does it feel to be back in Lillian?"

"Cary?" I say, squinting at the kid attached to the boom mike.

"Hey, Alice," he replies. I push the boom mike out of the way and hug him hard. Preston waves at me from the living room, and I hug him too.

"Well?" Charles says, zooming in on my face.

"I'm home," I say before flopping onto the couch next to Preston.

"Great," Charles says before shutting off the camera. "You always were a natural, Alice."

I giggle. "Is that the same camera from before?"

"Yeah," Charles sighs. "I'm saving up for a Betacam, though."

I nod even though I have no idea what that means. "Where are Martin and Joe?"

"Joe's visiting his grandparents in New Lebanon," Preston explains. "Martin's at tutoring. We're all going to the diner at 5."

I grin and kick my legs up on the coffee table. It's like I never even left.

-x-

"Tell me, Alice," Charles says, pointing the camera at my face. "How does a girl get ready for the most important weekend of her entire life?"

"She eats as much as she possibly can, as fast as she can," I say through a mouthful of cheeseburger.

"Hey Charles, do you like seafood?" Cary asks, and I grin. I know what's coming next.

"Yes, Cary, I do enjoy seafood."

"Then SEE FOOD!" Cary and I shout together, sticking our tongues out for the camera.

"Gross," Martin groans at the sight of our half-chewed meals.

"Did you tell Alice about how you barfed blue the other day, Smartin?" Cary asks. Martin turns red and kicks him under the table.

"He ate all of the cookies at our Spanish class fiesta last week," Preston explains. "The cookies had colored icing and he ended up puking blue all over the second floor bathroom."

"We're going to do a film study of your puke someday, Martin," Charles says, and Martin punches him in the arm. Charles just laughs and punches him back.

"Are all of you escorts for Carnation Festival?" I ask.

"Yup," Martin replies, eager for a subject change. "I'm with Carolyn Collins."

"Hailey Ross," Cary says.

"Eleanor Knightley," Preston chimes in. I nod. Carolyn and Hailey I knew well enough. Eleanor was always a tad too snotty to talk to me.

"Who's your escort?" Martin asks, and I shrug.

"Mrs. Kaznyck doesn't know," I say. "Hey, who's Joe going with?"

"Anna Grey, I think," Charles replies before vigorously digging back into his fries. I frown and continue eating my burger.

We leave a pile of fives and tens on the table and head out.

"Remember when you used to drive us around, Alice?" Preston asks as he opens the door for me.

"1968 Buick Skylark," I sigh. "My dad sold it to help buy our new house."

"Pity," Charles says as he starts up his own station wagon. "Where to next, kids?"

"The drive-in in Dayton is showing Close Encounters," Martin suggests.

"Done," Charles says. "We gotta pick up Sarah first, though."

Preston gives a small sigh and moves from the passenger seat to the back. With the four of us squished in the back, I more or less end up on Cary's lap. At the first speed bump, I nearly hit my head on the ceiling, and Cary wraps his arms around my waist to keep me steady.

We arrive at Sarah's house, and Charles honks the horn twice. Sarah skips out of her front door wearing pink and green pants and a white polo shirt. Her hair is tied back in the biggest bow I've ever seen.

Charles is completely head-over-heels for her. She greets him with a quick kiss and a loving look before turning to scrutinize me.

"Hi, Alice," she says. "It's been awhile."

"Yeah," I say nervously. She looks at me for a while longer, like she's expecting me to say something more, then turns back to Charles.

"Where are we going tonight?"

"The drive-in in Dayton," Charles says. "Close Encounters is playing."

"Nice!" Sarah cheers.

"Don't you guys have school tomorrow?" I ask.

"Senior Skip Day," they chorus. I feel like the biggest loser ever. Cary awkwardly pats my upper thigh.

The drive is long, but the view is nice. The sun is setting, and the highway is bathed in a fiery glow.

When we reach the drive-in, Preston and Martin immediately get out of the car. I scoot off Cary's lap and we all sit in the grass by the front bumper.

"What's this all about?" I ask. Preston snickers and rolls his eyes.

"Charles has seen this movie a billion times," he says. "He's just hoping that Sarah will suck him off."

"Oh," I say, and we all turn to the screen.

I've seen this movie before too. Not a billion times, but twice. It played alongside E.T. a couple of times at the Lima theatres. A couple of my friends—the ones with actual, loving parents—always said that they couldn't believe that Richard Dreyfuss just left his family like that for some alien. But I get it. Anyplace is better than here.

"It's so similar to what happened to us," Cary says quietly about forty minutes in.

I turn to look at him. When I think back on our time with the alien, I always picture me and Joe. I forget that Cary saw him too.

"It's the funniest thing," Cary laughs. "Joe and I kept calling him 'the alien', but we thought that was so, like, not personal so we started calling him Cooper. I used to call Joe up all the time and be like, 'How do you think Cooper is right now?' And he'd spout me some bullshit, but the weird thing is, I think he actually knew. I think he knew how Cooper felt. He still knows."

I just stare at Cary, speechless.

"Do you ever…do you ever feel like that? Like you know how Cooper feels?"

I swallow hard. "He shows up in my dreams at least once a week. Like, we're running, and he's running, and we're not really running from him, but we're not running with him, either. You can just feel all this pain and tension rolling off of him. Then we stop running and he's gone, and we don't know where he went. But I feel this peace come over me. I feel it come over all of us. And when I wake up, I know he's okay."

Cary's face is so close to mine.

"Good," he whispers, and we kiss.

It starts slowly at first, then builds and builds. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he runs his hands through my hair. Right as I begin to wonder what comes next, something in me snaps, and I pull away.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, and he gives me a sad smile.

"It's okay," he says.

"No, it's not, I shouldn't have—"

"No, really, I understand." Cary sighs and leans back against the car. "Joe could have any girl in Lillian and no matter how many sophomores take off their top for him, he won't do it."

He won't do it. But it'd be selfish to think he wasn't doing it because of me.