12th Grade, High School
Age: 16-17
Late September/Early October 2009
…
Vince pulls his car to a stop in front of the Wilsons' house, a row of his classmates' cars having already taken the spots directly in front of the Detweilers'. He kills the engine, letting out a slow breath before reaching for the door handle. His friends are no doubt wondering why he's so much later than usual and he doesn't want to cause a scene. Senior homecoming is the first of the big milestones of senior year and the night should be full of fun and memory making.
If it weren't for the feeling of obligation to his friends, he might have just stayed home, thrown his feet up in the recliner and watched Saturday Night Football with his dad. It would have been preferable to having to endure watching Ashley Q and Vance parade around in their plastic crowns. But his friends were still excited to go. He had promised Gretchen that he would be her date to the ridiculous star-crossed lovers Taylor Swift themed dance. Plus, it's Spinelli's first time going to a dance since returning to school post-crisis and the whole group has silently agreed to watch over her and make sure nothing goes awry. Those two girls are the only reason why he's putting up with this nonsense.
TJ's yard is full of their classmates as he pushes open the gate to the back. When the Ashleys had sent out their invitations for their exclusive pre-homecoming party, and it became clear that other smaller celebrations were springing up, TJ insisted on their group hosting something for anyone who didn't get invited anywhere. In TJ's mind, this was their last homecoming and it felt wrong that some of their classmates would have nowhere to go to celebrate prior to the dance. There were no formal invitations, merely word of mouth with TJ making sure to personally pass along the message to people he didn't think had anywhere else to go.
Word appears to have spread fast among their classmates. TJ had timed the start specifically so anyone would be able to go, including those who had other plans closer to the dance time, and that's abundantly clear from the odd assortment of people mingling in the yard. The usual suspects, like Sam and Dave and Phil, as well as other members of their class senate or sports teams, stand only yards away from people like Menlo, Randall, and the former pale kids.
Vince is sure a bunch of the attendees will empty out soon. Gus, for instance, is heading to the Ashleys, and Sam, Dave, and Phil probably are as well. Mikey is going to the dance with a theater friend of his and had mentioned wanting to meet up with them prior to the dance as well. And, while Vince wouldn't have ever thought he'd choose to hang around with Menlo and Randall prior to the homecoming dance, in some ways that seems preferable to joining Gus at the Ashleys'.
He zigzags through the yard on a search for his friends, stumbling upon TJ first. TJ, as always, is the life of the party. Hosting comes so easy to him as he glides effortlessly between the groups of random classmates, some of whom Vince barely recognizes but TJ clearly does. Once TJ steps away from a group of girls that Vince doesn't think he's ever seen before, Vince catches his eye and TJ grins, walking toward him.
"Looks like your idea was a success," he says, gesturing to the crowd.
TJ shrugs. "I just wanted to make sure everyone felt like they belonged," he says, giving Vince a pointed look. "It is our last go around after all."
Vince stuffs his hands in the pockets of his dress pants and gives a short smile. He glances away before TJ can see his nose twitch uncomfortably. The purpose of this party hits a little too close to home tonight. But rather than dwell on it, he lets his eyes scan the yard for a distraction.
"Yeah, but now because of your heroics, we have to entertain Menlo and Randall," he mutters.
"You can always go to the Ashleys'," TJ says, in a challenging voice, signifying that he knows that Vince's choices are slim. Vince grunts in response. "It won't be that bad. I promise."
"I'm holding you to it." He looks around. "Where are the girls?"
"Still getting ready," TJ says. He holds up his phone. "Spin was giving me the play-by-play for a while, but she went radio silent about a half hour ago so I'm hoping that means they're almost ready."
Vince raises an eyebrow. "Half an hour? You sure they didn't ditch us?"
TJ's face drops for a split second, as if the thought hadn't crossed his mind, and then shakes his head. His eyes glance quickly to his phone screen before looking back at Vince.
"Nah, if Spin had changed her mind, one of them would have texted me," he says, with just the slightest bit of nervousness in his voice as he trails off.
Vince places a hand on TJ's shoulder, knowing that worry is now spinning in TJ's head. Spinelli has been having a good start to her year but he knows that TJ always has an undercurrent of worry when it comes to her triggers. Vince bites the inside of his cheek, realizing his joke had been tone-deaf. Despite how well she appears to be doing this week, school dances are absolutely on Spinelli's list of triggers.
"Relax, Teej," he says softly, hoping to calm his friend's nerves. "Like you said, Gretch would've told you if Spin was having a panic attack. She's probably just arguing with her mom about her shoes – like she always does."
The tension in TJ's shoulder loosens under Vince's hand as he gives a small chuckle.
"She did mention something about her boots," TJ says.
"Exactly. She and her mom are absolutely getting into it." He lets go of TJ's shoulder and gestures to the crowd. Maybe mingling with the crowd that's already formed will help keep TJ's – and his own – mind from wandering to negative thoughts. "Let's go make the rounds before they get here."
TJ smirks and bumps Vince with his elbow. "Ready to entertain Randall, are we?"
"Well, someone has to – Spin definitely won't," Vince jokes back.
They both share a laugh as they start walking around the yard. They find Mikey and Gus standing near the refreshment table set up along the fence, talking with Sam, Dave, and Phil. Vince blows out a breath of relief, glad he won't have to make small talk with people he barely knows. Gus gives a friendly wave as they approach and Sam turns, looking over his shoulder with a sarcastic smirk.
"Jeez, Vince, you get lost?" he asks.
Vince shrugs, trying to think up a witty comeback, but nothing comes quick enough. So instead, he just shakes his head. "Just running late."
"Seems to be the theme tonight," Dave adds, turning to TJ. "Where's your better half?"
"Getting all gussied up I would imagine." Sam rolls his eyes. "Overheard her talking to the Ashleys at the pep rally yesterday. It's like those girls have never been to a dance before." He lets his voice catch a higher pitch. "And I haven't decided on my shoes!"
"Well, it is their last homecoming," Gus cuts in. He turns to Vince and TJ. "Hard to believe it really."
"Yeah. Wild," Vince mutters.
"Last" hangs in the air between the boys as the typical back-and-forth between them pauses briefly. A quick glance at his friends shows that despite the smiles and jokes, Vince isn't the only one grappling with conflicting emotions. But whereas Vince's unease settles in his gut, the rest of the boys seem to shrug it off without much lingering discomfort.
His mind wanders back to the decision he has to make and knows that's why the others can blow off the uncomfortable so quickly. Vince is slightly ahead of them. His friends have yet to receive their acceptances from colleges – Gretchen had told him that the first of the rolling admissions and early action letters would most likely start coming in mid-October and continue through early December. None of them are faced with making any final decisions yet.
He's brought out of his thoughts by a soda can being thrust toward him. He shakes out of his thoughts to see TJ handing him the can with his left hand, another for himself in his right. The other boys have been nursing sodas since Vince and TJ approached and so Vince takes it quickly. If nothing else, it will give him something to focus on as the group around him babbles on.
"Oh, and Ashley wanted me to remind you guys to stop by on your way to the dance," Gus says. When Vince looks up from his soda, Gus gives him a small shrug. "But, you know, if you don't want to…I get it."
Vince groans, jaw tensing as he tries to swallow the sound. Of course Gus wants them to join him at the Ashleys – of them all, Gus is probably the most into these group events and togetherness. But Vince can't imagine anything he would want to do less in this moment than go to the Ashleys' party, where Ashley Q and Vance will be flaunting their crowns. He knows he isn't in the right headspace to handle that tonight.
"I think I'll pass."
TJ's eyes dart to Vince but Vince doesn't meet his eye.
"Yeah, Gus, I don't know if we'll make it," TJ says. He then gestures out at the crowd. "I mean, someone has to entertain everyone here."
Phil laughs. "This is the most elaborate excuse to avoid a party. Even for you, TJ," he jokes.
"We're not avoiding it," TJ insists, although Vince gives a shrug at the same time in agreement with the joke. It is an elaborate excuse, but one that worked out in his favor.
"No, we know you have a soft spot for misfits," Sam says. He glances down at his watch. "As much as I'm dying to spend my evening with Randall and Menlo, it's about time I picked up my date." He holds out a fist to TJ and Vince, both boys bumping their own fists against his in goodbye. Dave and Phil follow his lead. "See you fools at the dance."
"You heading out too?" Vince asks Gus as the other three take off.
Gus shakes his head. "I'm going to wait for Spinelli and Gretchen to get here. We have to get our group shot."
Mikey nods in agreement, his face thoughtful. "We've always had group photos for our big events to preserve our memories. Missing out on the final homecoming would be nothing short of a tragedy."
Vince wrinkles his nose. Again with the finality of the night, when homecoming is really the beginning of the end. It's the start of the school year and the first of many senior celebrations. He glances away from Mikey and toward the rest of the party goers in TJ's yard. Smiles. Laughter. A sense of easiness. No one else is outwardly struggling with finality of anything, but that word sits like a rock in his stomach. He forces a chuckle and turns to his friends again.
"Yeah…tragic," he says softly.
Mikey's face drops in sympathy and, not wanting to confront anything his friend may notice in his appearance, Vince focuses on the unopened can in his hand. He cracks it open and looks up, lifting it as he manages a strained smile.
"Well, let's make sure this one is worth remembering," he says, tilting the can toward his group in a mock cheer.
TJ, Mikey, and Gus all join him, the clink of their cans echoing in the yard. As they pull their cans away and start to talk amongst themselves, Vince lets his eyes wander toward the yard gate, hoping the girls will arrive sooner than later. The other boys continue to chat. If they notice Vince's lack of involvement, they don't dwell on it. He needs the night to speed up. It feels like it's been forever since he stepped out of his car.
The gate opens and Vince feels his breath catch in anticipation, letting it out once he sees it's the girls. Spinelli walks through first, with Gretchen right on her heels, and they both look around the yard trying to find the boys.
"Look who finally showed up," Vince says to the rest of the guys, getting their attention.
The three others turn around, TJ audibly swallowing beside him. On TJ's other side, Gus chuckles and elbows their friend.
"Just think about Miss Finster," he says chuckling.
Vince frowns and turns back toward the girls. They've spotted them from across the yard and are headed their way, attempting to bypass as many of the other students as they can without having to chat. Spinelli leads the way, Gretchen a half step behind her until they reach the boys. It's then that they separate. Spinelli walks straight to TJ, as if the yard is empty and there's no one else around. Vince watches as the world dissolves around them and wonders for a brief moment what he missed. He had made it his mission to be a top player, a highly sought after recruit, sometimes at the expense of other desires. He couldn't afford to focus on trivial things like teenage love – he had a scholarship to earn. He figures he has his entire life to find his person – why risk a broken heart when he has more important goals?
Gretchen sidles up next to him and breaks his concentration. She also has her eyes focused on their two friends, a small smirk playing on her lips, which are stained a darker pink than usual. Mrs. Spinelli typically does the girls' make up prior to dances and she always does a good job matching the make up to the girl's personality. Neither looks overly made up, just accentuating the features they do have. Her eyelids are dusted with a dark taupe colored eyeshadow, accented with a sparkly berry color. The colors bring out the specks of yellow and green in her hazel eyes.
He leans over and nudges her, wanting to capture her attention.
"Did you two break your clock?" Vince asks, a hint of sarcasm to his voice.
Gretchen shakes her head and turns away from TJ and Spinelli, her expression a mixture of amusement and concern. "No, there was a bit of a disagreement about her outfit."
For as long as Vince can remember, Spinelli and her mother have had different opinions regarding Spinelli's attire for school dances. In any other world, Gretchen's words could seem flippant – of course, the two Spinelli women argue over outfits. But the pointedness of Gretchen's words adds a different weight to what he would have expected to be a benign statement.
"I see her mom won," Vince remarks, nodding toward the heels on Spinelli's feet, which replaced the black boots he had anticipated.
"Actually, no," Gretchen counters. "This was entirely her idea. It was me and her mom that were…not as keen."
Vince frowns and turns back to Spinelli, trying to see what he missed in his initial assessment. The dress she chose is a deep wine color, featuring a fitted bodice with a square neckline and thin straps that tie into small bows on her shoulders. The dress hugs her body to about mid-thigh, flaring out gently – tight but not skin tight. He glances back toward Gretchen for comparison; her dress flares out in a much looser A-line style, more typical of the girls' usual choices. Yet, he remembers girls at junior prom wearing much tighter, shorter dresses than what Spinelli sports now. And, besides, it's not like Gretchen has ever been prudish – she did give everyone their sex ed talk in sophomore year.
"How come?" he asks, still not understanding Gretchen's concern. "She looks great."
"We were both just a little worried." Gretchen lowers her voice as if afraid someone might overhear. "It's the first dance she's been to in a long time, and…we all know it's not exactly a safe space for her."
Vince frowns, nodding as Gretchen explains, though his mind drifts with his own opinions. When she finishes, he asks, "Isn't a dance like this, with all of us around, the best time for her to step out of her comfort zone?"
"Of course," Gretchen says. She sighs. "I just don't want someone to say something that could derail all the work she's done."
Vince turns back toward Spinelli, reconciling Gretchen's concerns with his own knowledge of Spinelli's struggles with her body image. When TJ had told him to keep an eye on her when she returned to school junior year, he had initially shrugged it off. Why did he have to worry about Spinelli, the girl who spent all of elementary school eating as much as he did? But during their runs that spring, he began to notice subtle signs – how she would drink an entire bottle of water before reaching for a protein snack at Kelso's, or how, upon receiving her summer cross-country jersey, she'd mentioned it didn't fit right. When he joked, "Yeah, because you're too skinny," the look on her face was one he would never forget.
So, he knows what Gretchen is concerned about, but he also knows the hard work Spinelli has put into her therapy. They talk during their runs and she has made impressive strides. Looking at her now, he can't help but recall last year's prom. She had shown up with TJ to the Ashleys' party – standing off to the side, curling into herself, her face gaunt and her dress ill-fitting.
Now, looking at her laugh while she pulls away from TJ who clearly doesn't want to let go of her, her face is brighter and fuller. There's life in her eyes again.
"Gretchen, she looks fine," Vince says, his voice steady. "She actually looks healthy."
"That doesn't necessarily matter. Teenage girls are terrible," Gretchen grumbles, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
"If you're worried about the Megans, don't. They won't say a word."
"You're sure about that?" Gretchen challenges, raising an eyebrow.
"Positive." He meets her questioning look with a shake of his head. No one knows about his talk with the Megans, a confidence shared only with Spinelli herself. Unless she wants him to disclose it, that gruesome chapter of their friendship will remain a secret between them. So instead, he adds, "Oh come on, they haven't done anything to her in months. Plus, with Gus and Ashley T together, she has the Ashleys as part of her inner circle now. The Megans won't cross them."
"That is true, I suppose," Gretchen concedes. She shrugs and her tone lifts. "The Ashleys actually helped her pick her dress."
"You went shopping with the Ashleys?" he asks incredulously, a grimace distorting his face.
Gretchen shakes her head. "We didn't go shopping with the Ashleys. We ran into Ashley A and Ashley T at the mall. They insisted we join them."
"That's unfortunate."
Gretchen chuckles and hits his arm playfully. "It wasn't that bad."
"Well at least you didn't have the plastic tiara with you," Vince grumbles.
Gretchen's lips downturn and Vince groans, not wanting to bring down the evening for her. From what she has said, Gretchen has already spent the beginning of her homecoming evening worried about Spinelli, he doesn't want to add himself to her list.
"We should break up the love fest so we can get Gus and Mikey out of here," he jokes, gesturing to Spinelli and TJ.
Gretchen grabs his arm and from the look on her face, he knows that she isn't going to let him get away with it. He sighs and puts both hands on her shoulders.
"Gretch–"
"Are you going to be okay tonight?" she cuts in, not letting him continue. "We don't have to go. It wouldn't be the first time some of us didn't go to the actual dance."
He gives her shoulders a squeeze and shakes his head. "I will be okay," he says, firm but soft. He is amazed by how steady his voice is, given that he isn't sure what he's saying is actually accurate. "You and I are going to go to this dance and we are going to have a good time, Homecoming Court and Romeo & Juliet theme be damned."
Her stare is unwavering for a few moments before she breaks, seemingly believing him.
"If you change your mind," she says.
He smiles and leans forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Thank you for looking out for me," he says softly. "But it's just a dance." He leans back and lets her go, turning toward the other four. "Let's go take our group pictures."
…
Vince slips through the doorway, the singular guitar melody of the song fading behind him as he leaves the gymnasium. He beelines it for the exit doors, his heart racing, and debates opening the doors for a moment. Typically, once leaving the building, students aren't allowed back inside. Turning, he scans the area for chaperones. His eyes meet with one of the senior faculty members, their gaze heavy with unspoken understanding. They share a quiet moment before the teacher gives him a small nod, turning their back on him to look through the gym doors, granting him the privacy he desperately desires.
The chill of the October air bites against his sweaty skin and he shivers slightly as he looks around on the ground. His gaze lands on a rock along the sidewalk that he uses to prop the door open behind him. With his return route secured, he steps to the side of the glass doors, seeking refuge against the cool brick wall.
With a deep breath, he unbuttons the top of his dress shirt, loosening the fabric against his chest. He isn't sure why he feels so unsteady. It's not like he didn't know this was coming. But the sting is just as sharp now as it had been the day before when the results were announced. This time, the shock had faded, leaving a raw ache as he had to watch Ashley Q and Vance take to the dance floor, their wide smiles bright against the dim lights.
Watching the two dance was a painful reminder that he had lost, like salt poured into an open wound. Though it wasn't the first time Vance had ever beaten him at anything, this loss felt worse than the others. He had grappled with losing out on his favorite football position because Vance was better at it – that made sense. He even, somewhat, understood how Vance could be more popular than him. With his floppy blond hair and easy arrogance, he took many of his and TJ's best attributes and combined them into one superhuman athlete. He was nice, if not a bit boring. All of that combined is a surefire recipe for popularity. But, for Vince, his mere existence was the constant reminder that Vince could do everything right, everything that he was supposed to do, and still fail.
He digs his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, trying to hide the visible skin within the fabric. His fingers reach for the stitching at the bottom of the pocket, as if the action could also conceal the gnawing feeling that he doesn't belong here anymore. Vince LaSalle, once a shoo-in for any popularity contest, has fallen from grace.
A shadow suddenly blocks some of the light and Vince blows out a final long breath. He looks up, half-expecting to see TJ or Gretchen, or perhaps the chaperone to tell him his breather is over. Instead, it's Spinelli, her lopsided smirk offsetting the concern in her dark eyes.
"They're insufferable, aren't they?" Spinelli spits, rolling her eyes. Her gravelly voice sounds hoarser from screaming the lyrics to rap songs and, despite himself, Vince can't help but chuckle.
He shrugs. "Probably not any worse than hearing me and Ashley A scream at each other."
"Oh, it's loads worse," she replies, stepping out into the night to lean against the wall beside him. She crosses her arms, her stance a mixture of defiance and camaraderie. "I'd much rather watch a screaming match than those two making faces at each other. Blech."
He snorts at the imagery, but then his mind goes back to just moments ago, the two of them dancing, their grins plastered on their faces as if they owned the world, the twinkling lights of the gym flickering off Ashley Q's plastic crown.
"Well, you seem to be in the minority, considering the way the vote ended up."
"Lucky for you, this vote isn't going to matter in a few months."
Vince grunts, digging his hands deeper into his pockets and meeting resistance. The toe of one shoe taps against the grass in a quick, anxious rhythm.
"Vince, don't let what they think bother you," she says firmly. He can feel her gaze on him, but he continues to watch his foot bounce erratically against the ground. "You know why they picked Vance. He's going to Alabama. They think he's going to be some famous NFL player."
"He might be," he mutters. Inside the louder, faster dance music resumes and the thumping beats echo out to them.
"Sure. But the fact that he was Homecoming King instead of you is not going to matter. It's just stupid high school."
He can't help but laugh at her verbiage.
"Stupid high school," he repeats, chuckling as he finally lifts his eyes to meet hers. "Did you use that terminology in your college applications? Sounds like a winner."
Spinelli rolls her eyes, a smirk creeping onto her face. "That's what you took from my pep talk? I know I'm no TJ, but I didn't think it was that bad."
They share a short chuckle, which feels louder in the darkness, but then it becomes quiet again. Vince bites his lip, watching for any sign that Spinelli is ready to go back inside. She stands steady, her back still against the brick wall, her head tilted to one side as she studies him, waiting for Vince to take the lead.
"Look, it's not just the vote," he admits, letting out another breath. "It's…can I ask you a question?"
"Shoot."
"You always wanted to go to college far away." He remembers how Spinelli often dreamed about leaving their small town behind. As they progressed through middle and into high school, with her grades improving and her ambition increasing, it seemed more like a certainty than a possibility. "Why'd you change your mind?"
Spinelli doesn't say anything for a minute. She turns away from Vince, leaning the back of her head against the bricks. He watches her stare up at the stars, deep in thought, before she turns back toward him.
"You mean, why is my first choice U of A?"
"Yeah."
She shrugs. "Things change."
She looks back up at the sky, her eyes scanning the stars. Vince follows her gaze, wondering if he'll find any answers up there. But all he sees are stars twinkling against the dark backsplash of the night sky.
"My entire support system is here," she continues. "I'm an established patient. Part of me is afraid that if I went too far and went to a school where I didn't know anyone, if I had a crisis, I wouldn't have anyone I trusted. And I can't even imagine my parents or Joey or TJ driving through the night to get to me, terrified that I'd be dead by the time they get there."
She turns back to him and shrugs. "It's just…easier? My goals changed, I guess."
He turns away from the night sky and locks eyes with the girl beside him. Over the years, he and Spinelli have had their fair share of differences, but in this moment, he's grateful to have fought to maintain their friendship. A swell of pride erupts in his gut. She figured out what to do to make the best of her situation. Is it what she had imagined for herself? No, but maybe that's the point.
His brows furrow as the realization washes over him. Part of him had always agreed with the Spinelli of the past – that success comes from extremes: moving far away, striving to be the best and refusing to accept failure. But, maybe she's right. Maybe the point is to step out of his comfort zone enough to struggle, but not to drown. It suddenly makes sense as to why BC holds such a profound allure for him. They were the first school outside of Arkansas to show any interest in him. He knows if he goes there, he'll have people nearby – Gretchen is all but guaranteed admission to MIT after all. And being in Boston, surrounded by top-notch universities, could open so many doors if he decides that basketball isn't his ultimate goal.
"That makes sense," he says. "Thanks."
"Did it help?"
He shrugs.
Spinelli raises an eyebrow. "You sure? You're not very convincing."
Vince hesitates, pulling his hands from his pockets and running them along the front of his dress pants. He rests his hands on his knees, as if he's just run a marathon and he's catching his breath. After a moment, he stands up straighter and shrugs.
"I've only told Gretch this. I haven't even mentioned it to TJ yet, but…" He pauses, feeling the words bubbling up before they combust. "I've always had a plan – NBA or bust. But…I'm not so sure it's what I want anymore. So, I feel like this decision, BC or Wake Forest, is more important than just what team I play for. You know?"
"Okay," Spinelli says. "Do you have an idea of what you'd want to do instead? That might help narrow it down – one school might not have the program."
"No, they both have the program," he mutters. He shakes his head and then sighs. "Wake Forest has a better basketball reputation right now and I think, if I want to play post college, I need to go there. But, BC…the internships I could do and Gretch will be right there. It seems like the better choice…academics wise."
Spinelli listens intently, nodding along as he rambles. When he finishes, he swallows and waits for her to process everything. She frowns.
"Look, I can't make this decision for you, but it sounds like you need to decide if you want to close the door on playing basketball after college," she says. "Wake Forest is a good school too. I'm sure that if you ultimately decide not to pursue basketball, you'd be able to do what you wanted to do with that education."
"Yeah, probably," he mutters. He frowns as he notices her shiver and then looks over his shoulder. No one is watching them, but they've been outside for a while. "We should probably head back in before you freeze out here."
"I'm not cold."
Vince rolls his eyes. "Sure, and Randall's gonna win Prom King," he scoffs. He puts an arm around her shoulder, gently coaxing her toward the door. "Come on, Ice Queen. Teej'll kill me if I return you frostbitten."
The dance is already back in full swing when they walk back inside, the slow dance for the Homecoming Court long forgotten in favor of fast-paced dance music. No one seems to notice their arrival as they all yell along to the lyrics of the song. He lets Spinelli lead the way back to their friends, who have made their way to the center of the dance floor in a loud, packed swarm of sweaty hormones.
It's tight at the center of the dance floor, with most of the couples bumping against each other as they dance intimately with one another. He loses Spinelli as she slips through the crowd, his eyes finding her a few couples away, standing on her tiptoes so her lips are against TJ's ear, probably giving him an update on whether or not Vince left the dance for good. He turns away, uncomfortable.
He needs to find Gretchen.
This is not her forte. Gretchen stays toward the sides of the dance floors, more of a people watcher than a dancer herself. At the beginning of their high school journey, she, Gus, and Mikey would stray a little farther away than Vince, Spinelli, and TJ would. But tonight, with every senior dancing against their date like they'll never get the chance to again, he figures she has long left the center of the gym. The farther out from where the seniors have created their love fest, he sees bigger groups of students dancing together. So, some people didn't come with dates after all. Maybe it was only the seniors that felt the need to heed the advice on the ticket flyers to come with dates.
Once he's out of the lion's den, he glances around the outskirts of the floor, finally finding Gretchen standing alone by the drink table. As she stands by herself, he can't help but wonder how she looks so calm and confident alone at a dance. Gretchen is the type of person who could go to a sit down restaurant by herself and not have a worry in the world about what it looks like to an outsider. Vince could never do that – he'd feel too awkward sitting alone. Here, Gretchen appears the same as always – whereas anyone else would look out of place, Gretchen is completely in control.
She smiles as he approaches, grabbing a cup and filling it right as he takes the spot next to her.
"You snuck by me," she says, handing him the cup she filled. "I was hoping to catch you when you and Spinelli came back inside."
"You saw me leave?" He had thought he had been discrete.
She nods her head. "Spinelli wanted to be the one to talk to you. She said she understood."
He glances back out at the dance floor, knowing he won't find Spinelli amongst the bodies, but sends her a silent thank you. As he thinks it through, he is glad she is the one who came to find him. TJ and Gretchen would have been fine – they're his best friends and know how he functions – but he and Spinelli are two sides of the same coin. He used to hate being compared to her. He hated when people joked that they were basically the same person because he didn't see it at all.
"I mean, TJ does have a type," he mutters under his breath, taking a small sip of his drink to avoid having to react to his own joke.
He coughs and nods his head out toward the dance floor before turning back to her. "How's the people watching?"
"Fascinating." She smiles earnestly. "I could probably write my dissertation on teenage behaviors when the lights dim and Lil Jon is played."
"I think that study has already been done." Vince smirks. "It's called biology 101."
She chuckles. "It's still fascinating. Even the shyest of students are empowered by the lyrics and anonymity of the darkness."
He holds his plastic cup to her. "To science," he says and she smiles, the clank of the plastic cups barely audible over the music engulfing them.
A quiet moment passes between them as the DJ transitions between songs. Gretchen gives him a soft, understanding look. "You seem to be doing better."
He nods his head and meets her eye. "Yeah, I am," he says, and for the first time all night it feels like the truth. "Spin and I had a nice talk."
"Did it help?"
"Somewhat," he concedes. He sets his cup down on the table and then taps his finger against the table top. He bites his lip and glances toward her, seeing that she hasn't turned away. "I still haven't officially made my decision."
"Officially?"
Vince wrinkles his nose and looks down at his cup. He can see the vibrations from the music in the liquid. The song hits a crescendo that shakes his drink, causing small waves in the plastic cup.
"I have…a choice that makes the most sense," he tells her slowly. He turns back to her and sees her staring curiously, eager to hear what he has to say. "Wake Forest makes the most sense from a basketball point of view."
"What other point of view are you looking at?"
His gut flips as the music lulls briefly. The other point of view has minimal practicality to it, something he thinks Gretchen may not understand. She is always so logical and his reasons for keeping BC on his list are anything but.
"BC would put me in close proximity to Boston, with internship and shadowing opportunities close by for after basketball," he says, but as he says it, the words fall flat. He knows that isn't the real reason – sure, Boston is a great city for those opportunities but will he actually have the chance to focus on those as a D1 student athlete? No. His foot taps against the floor. "And, you know, it doesn't hurt that it's right down the street from MIT."
As the words leave his mouth, he realizes that that is the reason. All of the other excuses were nothing but convenient bullet points. When he imagines college in his head, he can see the image clearly. If he goes to BC, Gretchen could come to his home games and they could meet up in the city on the weekends for lunch and study sessions. She could be his confidante when it came to maneuvering his future outside of basketball.
At the same time that those thoughts comfort him, he finds his face warm with embarrassment. Saying the words makes it seem like Gretchen is his security blanket. Regardless of whichever school he went to, he will be alone. He'll have a new team and new friends, a new environment far from home. But one puts him in proximity to his comfort zone and one sends him out to sea with no paddle.
Gretchen gives him a sad smile.
"Oh, Vince," she says.
He watches as her face falls. She closes her eyes, slowly blinking and looking away from him briefly before returning to his gaze.
"You can't make such an important decision based on a what if on my part. What if I don't get into MIT?"
"You're going to get in!" Vince exclaims. "If you don't get in, who does?"
"You know as well as I do that these types of schools turn away qualified applicants for no other reason than they ran out of seats in their class," Gretchen says. "There is no guarantee that I'm going to get into MIT – or any other school for that matter."
"Gretchen–"
"I'm serious, Vince. There are plenty of qualified students who don't get into their top choice schools every year. I may get in or I may not," she says firmly. The way she says it is methodical, as if this isn't the first time this scenario has gone through her head. "Or I may get in somewhere else with a better offer and choose to go there instead."
"But you've wanted to go to MIT since forever." Of course he doesn't have to say that. Gretchen knows well enough what school she has wanted to attend. But Gretchen at any other school is unimaginable.
"Trust me, I know," she says, with a touch of annoyance in her voice. Then she groans and shakes her head, her voice calm as she speaks again. "But there are thousands of other students who have also wanted to go to MIT since they were eight. It's not a guarantee that any of us will be admitted. There is a reason why I've applied to so many schools. This is a reach for me, just like playing Division I was a reach for you.
"Let me play devil's advocate for a minute," Gretchen continues. "Here's the scenario. You choose BC. I am accepted into MIT, but I receive a full scholarship to Caltech and I decide I can't pass up that opportunity. How do you feel about your choice?"
His mind spins with the thought of Gretchen in California, on the other side of the country from either of his two choices. His gut bubbles at how quickly the scenario popped into her head and he is suddenly realizing in a few short months the reality will be that she isn't a few streets over. In his mind, she was always there, something he had taken for granted.
He thinks to the choice she gave him. If Gretchen goes to California, it doesn't matter which school he attends. Regardless, they'll be in different time zones, with different schedules, and the very real possibility of losing the one connection that has kept him sane through high school. If she attends a school on the east coast, like MIT, it is easier to keep in contact, but it will still take work. Even with the MIT-BC scenario, she won't be around all the time and it would still take coordination to align their schedules. Vince had been relying on a dream because he knows he isn't ready to lose her.
He looks back to her and is greeted by the knowing sad smile she had earlier. She knows the decision he is going to make and isn't making him say it. The music around them softens and they both turn away, seeing the dance floor start to thin out. Those without dance partners start toward the drink table and bleachers, while the couples turn to face one another in their spots on the dance floor.
He holds out his hand to Gretchen as Chris Martin's vocals start to entwine with the piano entry. "It's your song," he tells her, his eyes steady.
"Is it?" she asks with a charming half-smile.
Vince nods at the scientist before him, his hand still extended toward her. "I like to think so."
For a moment, the two stand still, the weight of their conversation between them, before Gretchen reaches forward. She takes his hand and he gives her a warm smile as they weave their fingers together. The two walk hand-in-hand toward the dance floor, picking a spot on the edge that's quietly adjacent to the rest of their classmates.
He rests his hands lightly on her waist as Gretchen rests her hands on his shoulders. As they sway comfortably to the music, the rest of the room disappears around them, leaving just himself, Gretchen, and the space between them.
Gretchen looks up, meeting his eye. Seeing that he hasn't looked away, she leans just a touch closer.
"You can't make a wrong decision, Vince. Whatever you feel is best for you will work out in the end," she tells him, her voice quiet despite being loud against the music.
He gives her a small smile and tightens his grip on her. They're not really dancing anymore. Rather, just swaying and hugging. He knows that once the song ends, the world will begin again. He will have to voice his decision, knowing that what's best for him is likely going to send him in an opposite direction from Gretchen. Despite Gretchen's insistence, he has the confidence that she'll get into MIT. It's what's best for her, just like how Wake Forest is where he needs to be.
But he can enjoy the rest of the song, letting the world and their future run ahead of them for a moment.
…
Notes:
"The Scientist" (2002) by Coldplay is the song that I connect with Vince and Gretchen and what I'm referencing at the end of this chapter. I have it, and multiple covers of it, on a playlist that I listen to when I write their scenes. These two also danced to "The Scientist" during the sophomore year homecoming chapter, in which Vince says, "Gretch, this is like your perfect song."
In Chapter 24, Dave makes the joke that TJ "has a type" in reference to Spinelli and Vince. Vince references that on-going joke in this chapter.
And, with that, Vince's decision is made. Next up, TJ's going to work on his future a bit.
Until next time :)