"Listen, Bevy, I think...maybe we should...you know next week....I was just thinking..."

Billy snickers next to me and I punch him in the arm without taking my eyes off of Bevy. She's patiently waiting for me to stop stuttering and make some actual sense, but I can't get the words out.

"Yes?" she asks softly, taking a step towards me.

She's so pretty that my mind goes blank. This is Bevy. MY Bevy. Why is it so hard to just ask her? Ask her if she wants to go on a date. s.h.i.t, just ask her to prom! Who cares if I'm twenty years old and going back to high school, at least I'll be with Bevy. Just say it already!

"Hey, Beverly! Do you have a second?"

Bob comes up next to us and Bevy slowly looks away from me. I want to grab onto her face and pull her gaze back to mine. Why is she looking at stupid Bob Miller?

"Oh, hey, Bob," Bevy greets him with a smile.

I want to punch my fist into the pa.s.senger window of my car when she smiles at him. She shouldn't be allowed to smile at anyone but me. I feel like a giant child, but I can't help it.

"How about you go with me to the prom next week?" Bob asks her casually, leaning his shoulder against the side of MY car and sliding his hands into the front pocket of his jeans.

Not only do I want to punch the window, I want to punch that smug smirk right off of Bob's face. He's standing there thinking Bevy is going to jump at the chance to go anywhere with him.

Bevy looks back over her shoulder at me expectantly, like she's waiting for me to say something. What the h.e.l.l am I supposed to say? Don't go with Bob Miller because he's a jerk? You should go with me because I'm in love with you?

Instead, I chicken out and pick option three, giving her a shrug because I honestly think she's going to laugh in Bob's face. I watch as Bevy's face falls and she turns back to look at Bob, giving him a shrug of her own.

"Um, sure, I guess. That would be nice," Bevy tells him.

"Yikes," Billy mumbles next to me.

I listen to Bob and Bevy make plans, staring with my mouth wide open at the exchange going on right in front of me, suddenly feeling like the ham sandwich I had for lunch is going to come up all over my shoes.

When Bob finally walks away, giving me a wave and telling me we should catch up sometime, I shoot him a dirty look and don't say a word. I can't believe this just happened.

After Bob disappears into the crowd of students in the parking lot, Bevy turns towards me and I'm surprised I don't see a huge smile on her face after landing a date to prom with the most popular guy in school.

"You are NOT going to the dance with Bob Miller!" I tell her.

Bevy puts her hands on her hips and glares at me.

"You can't tell me what to do! Bob is a very nice guy and at least he asked!"

It's almost like she wanted me to be the one who asked her, but that's impossible. I'd know if Bevy wanted me to ask her, I'm sure of it.

I move closer to her, mirroring her pose with my own hands on my hips. "Bob is NOT a nice guy and I don't want you going to the dance with him."

I can practically see the smoke coming out of Bevy's ears.

"You can't tell me what to do, Trip Fisher!" she shouts.

"I most certainly CAN!"

She stomps her foot and crosses her arms in front of her. "I'm going to the prom with Bob, so stow it!"

Bevy has never liked Kathy, always calling her a sn.o.b and saying that she only cares about looking pretty all time so she can catch a rich husband and spend all his money. I'm so angry at the thought of Bevy going to prom with Bob that the next words fly out of my mouth without a second thought.

"FINE! Then I'm going to have Kathy come over and keep me company while you're busy on your little date!"

Bevy rolls her eyes. "I can't believe you're going to ask her out again when you know very well she only likes you because your dad owns the bank."

Billy laughs and I feel my face redden because Bevy doesn't know how to speak quietly. There's also the fact that she's kind of right. Kathy's always asking why my family doesn't buy a bigger home since we have so much money and she works so hard at b.u.t.tering up my parents that it's almost sickening. I want to tell Bevy that Kathy doesn't hold a candle her, but I stick my foot a little deeper in my mouth instead.

"Now we both have dates. Maybe we should double. Oooh, I have a better idea. Kathy and I can be chaperones! I'll just go inside and ask the princ.i.p.al if he needs more volunteers."

What the h.e.l.l am I saying? This is a horrible idea!

Billy laughs, but I ignore him.

"Oh, that sounds like a fine idea," Bevy tells me sweetly. A little too sweetly. "I'll have Bob pick me up at your house, since I'm sure your mom is going to want to help me get ready, and then we can all go together."

I really expected her to protest the idea of a double date, not go along with it. My anger and jealousy boils hotter thinking about Bob sliding a corsage on Bevy's wrist, Bob holding her hand, Bob putting his hands on her while they dance.

"Since when do you want to go to the dance, anyway? You don't even like dances! You know you have to get dressed up and actually look nice for a change, right? You have to brush your hair and keep your dress clean!"

Billy whistles under his breath and takes a step back from us as Bevy drops her hands to her sides and clenches her hands into fists.

"YOU are a JERK, Trip Fisher! I'm not going home with you, I'd rather walk," Bevy whispers before she turns and runs away.

If she had screamed those words at me, I would have fired something equally insulting right back, but seeing the tears pool in her eyes and hearing the hurt in her voice stops me from shouting at her as she disappears around the corner of the school.

"I can't believe she's going to the dance with Bob Miller!" I shout, kicking my foot angrily against the tire of my car.

"I can't believe you're such an idiot," Billy tells me with a sad shake of his head.

Bevy hasn't spoken to me in a week, no matter how hard I've tried. I've thrown so many rocks at her bedroom window that I'm surprised the gla.s.s hasn't gotten weak and shattered.

She came over an hour ago so my mom could help her get ready. When I opened the door, she shouldered right past me and up the stairs without a word. I wish she would let me apologize so we could get past this. I hate having Bevy mad at me.

I've been shooting Bob dirty looks ever since he got here and feel like an idiot when he asks me where Kathy is. Obviously, Bevy enlightened him of my genius plan of serving as chaperone. Instead of telling him the truth, that I never even called Kathy because I don't want anything to do with her, I lie and tell him she had other plans. While Bob goes on and on about how he beat the free-throw record I set my senior year, I tune him out.

I want to tell Bevy I'm sorry for being such a jerk, but she's been closed upstairs with my mother in her bedroom and neither one of them answered when I knocked.

A few minutes later, I hear the stairs creak and Bob whistles under his breath. I turn my head and my mouth drops open in shock.

Bevy is slowly making her way down the stairs, holding onto the railing with one hand and bunching up some of the fabric of her long skirt in the other so she doesn't trip. At least I think it's Bevy. I've never seen her look like this before. She looks gorgeous. I mean, Bevy has always been a pretty girl, she's just never done anything special to make herself more pretty like a lot of girls. It's never mattered much to me because when I look at her, she always looks like the most beautiful girl in the world, but right now, I am amazed. Tonight, she's wearing a pale blue dress that hangs off of her shoulders and her hair is piled up on top of her head. She has on just a tiny hint of makeup and, next to her dress, her eyes look like big, blue swimming pools.

When she gets to the bottom of the stairs, she walks across the room and right past me to Bob. He tells her how pretty she looks and slides the corsage he brought onto her wrist. I want to rip it off and throw it across the room, to tell him to keep his hands off of her because she's MY Bevy, not his. I want to ask her why she got all gussied up for BOB MILLER and not me.

My mom takes a few pictures of Bevy and Bob alone and then makes me get in one final picture as she gets her camera ready, telling us to smile. I can't smile and I can't stop staring at Bevy. I hear the flash of the camera and don't even care that I wasn't looking at my mom when she took it.

My mom tells them to have a great time and stands in the open doorway, waving as they disappear from sight. I stomp upstairs to my room, slamming my door so hard I'm surprised it doesn't break.

A few hours later, lying on my back, staring up at my ceiling and trying not to think about what Bevy and Bob are doing, I hear something smack against my window. I quickly get up, throw my window open and see Bevy standing down in the gra.s.s with her shoes in her hand and a smile on her face as she looks up at me.

"Get down here and walk me home like a gentleman!" she shouts.

"I thought you already had a gentleman to do that for you?" I yell back, trying not to sound like a jealous jerk, wondering if Bob held her too close, if he tried to kiss her, and if she wants me to walk her home just so she can gush about all of those things.

"You were right, he's a jerk. He danced with another girl most of the night and then left early with her. So, are you going to walk me home or not?"

I try not to smile, realizing Bevy didn't have as great a time at the dance as I imagined. Racing down the stairs, I meet her outside and we walk side-by-side through town towards her house. We usually have lots of things to talk about, but tonight, it feels like the weight of the world is on my shoulders and I'm having a hard time telling her what I want to say.

"What's wrong, Trip?" Bevy asks me softly as we get to her driveway.

I want to tell her that everything is wrong. Bevy should have been MY date tonight, not Bob's. I would have held her close and danced with her all night, I would have made her happy and I never would have left her side. I'm afraid of what I feel for her. Everything is changing and it scares me. I don't want to lose her as a friend, but I need more than just her friendship. I need her to tell me that she'd never really leave the island because she couldn't stand the thought of being apart from me. I need her to love me as much as I love her, but what if she doesn't? What will happen to us if I blurt out my feelings and she doesn't share them? I can't take that chance. Even if I have to love Bevy from afar for the rest of my life, at least she'll still BE in my life. If I screw up our friendship, she may never speak to me again.

"Nothing is wrong, Bevy. I'm just sorry you didn't have a good time tonight," I tell her instead, forcing a smile on my face.

"So, why didn't Kathy come tonight? I thought you were going to be chaperones?" she asks me with a smirk, knowing full well that I only threw that Kathy nonsense at her to tick her off.

I shrug and slide my hands into my pockets as we walk up her front porch stairs. "You were right about her. She only cares about how much money I make."

We share a laugh as I open the screen door and she steps inside.

"Thanks for walking me home, Trip," Bevy says with a smile as she starts to back away from me into the house. I want to stay, I want to pull her into my arms and tell her I'm in love with her. I want to say so many things, but nothing comes out as I watch her move further away from me.

I let go of the screen door and it starts to slam shut when Bevy quickly pushes it back open. She comes out on the porch and stands right in front of me.

I hold my breath, wondering if maybe she really does feel something for me and she's going to be the one to say it first. Bevy does like to win at everything.

That thought puts a smile on my face until Bevy opens her mouth and speaks in a rush.

"So, remember when I sang at the Uptown Lounge last year? Well, I guess there was record producer in the audience that night, and he started asking around about me. John Gates gave him my phone number. Anyway, this guy is a big time producer in California and he wants me to come out there and sing on a record. A real, live record! I leave the day before graduation."

My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water.

"You're honestly going to leave before graduation?" I ask dumbly.

She shrugs. "Who cares about graduation? I could be a huge star, Trip! All of my dreams are coming true. I don't care about a stupid diploma. I already finished finals and I know I pa.s.sed. It's not like I'll be missing much if I don't go."

Me. You'll be missing me. Please, tell me that you'll miss me.

Everything I know I should say to her is right there, on the tip of my tongue, but I don't say anything at all as she disappears inside.

I wish I had told her that she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I wish I had told her that I love her and that I could make all of her dreams come true. I wish I hadn't wasted so much time being an idiot.

Chapter 10.

I run my fingers over the prom night photo and curse myself a hundred times. Closing my eyes for a few minutes, I try to will away all of the aches and pains in my tired, old body. I don't have time to be sick or to worry about my health. I have to get these words on paper before it's too late. Picking the notepad and pen back up, I continue writing my and Bevy's story.

If ever a boy needed a good, solid whack upside the head, it was me. I spent the next few weeks after prom being a complete dumba.s.s where Bevy was concerned. Keenly aware of the clock ticking down on our time together, I spent every free moment at Bevy's side, forgoing sleep altogether in exchange for throwing rocks at her bedroom window and sneaking down to the lighthouse. Sitting together under the stars, we talked about everything, including how much I hated working at the bank. She was going to make something of herself and I was going to be stuck working for Fisher's Bank and Trust for the rest of my life.

Being cooped up behind a desk was sucking out my very soul and I spent the days counting down the minutes until I could run out that stuffy building, tear off my suit and tie and get into the sunshine. I'd spent my off time the last few years helping people fix things around the island, a side job that had grown out of serving as Billy's a.s.sistant on a few remodeling projects. A couple of local contractors had taken notice and taken me under their wings, showing me how to use a hammer and fix a leaky pipe. When I got off work at the bank, I yanked my suit off as fast as I could, threw on an old t-shirt and a pair of jeans and ran back into town to get another lesson on fix-it work. Regardless of how much money I stood to make at the bank, there was nothing I'd rather spend my days doing than working with my hands. In typical Bevy fashion, she told me to stop being a chicken and tell my father how I felt, that there was no point living your life doing something that made you unhappy.

I laid my heart bare to Beverly O'Bryne over the course of those weeks, discussing everything except, of course, the only think that really mattered. I noticed things about Bevy I'd never taken the time to see and imagined how I would feel when she was gone, nearly making myself physically ill. I noticed how her laugh made my heart beat fast and how her smile, especially when it was aimed at me, made me feel like I hung the moon. All I could think about was Bevy leaving our island and how I might never see her again. So much wasted time. If only I'd have pulled my head out of my a.s.s sooner.

With the photo alb.u.m resting next to me on the couch, I flip the page and stare down at a picture of Bevy in her cap and gown. Bevy had no plans of walking with her cla.s.smates at graduation, but I was the only one who knew thator so I thought. When she brought home her packaged cap and gown from school that day, Bevy tried it on and asked my mom to take a picture. Right before my mom snapped it, Bevy whispered in my ear, "This will be a nice photo to have, since I won't actually be at graduation."

In the photo, Bevy has a huge smile on her face and I look like someone ran over my favorite dog. My arm is around her shoulder and she's got hers wrapped around my waist. She's smiling so bright at the camera because her whole life was just beginning. She had a plan that night and was so excited she could have burst. All I could think about in that moment was facing forever without her. I didn't want her to go, but I had no idea how to make her stay. Flipping to the next page in the notepad, I shake out the tingling in my hand and continue writing.

Chapter 11.

June 1952 She's leaving.

The nightmare that's plagued me from the moment she screamed how much she hated this island is coming true. Bevy is packing up and leaving me behind. When I stopped by her house earlier, she snuck me up to her bedroom (not that her father would have even noticed), showing me her packed suitcases as she explained her plan to leave on the last ferry off the island tonight. I told her she was crazy and asked if she really thought she was good enough to become a singing star and we got into a huge fight. I never should have said those things. I'd lashed out in desperation and anger, intentionally hurting her, something I hated myself for.

She was supposed to come over for dinner tonight to celebrate her last day of school with us and my father has been asking where she is for the last hour. I didn't have the heart to tell him that our Bevy is leaving us, that we might never see her again. I couldn't bring myself to say the words out loud.

I'm angry that she can just pack up and leave me without giving it a second thought and I'm jealous that she can so easily follow her dreams when I can't even tell my own father that I want nothing to do with Fisher's Bank and Trust. I'm miserable every day I spend inside that building. I like working with my hands, I like fixing things and getting dirty. I don't want to wear a suit and be stuck inside for the rest of my life. I want to tell my father that I can't follow in his footsteps, but I just don't have the guts to do it. I'm not like Bevy. My father has groomed me to take over the bank since it opened. How can I just break his heart and tell him it's not what I want? How can Bevy just break my heart and leave me? Why does all of this have to be so hard?

As I pace back and forth in the hallway by the front door, my mother walks quietly up behind me and puts a hand on my shoulder. I stop pacing and turn to face her. She smiles softly and pulls me in for a hug.

"I love you, son. I love the man that you've become and I'm so proud of you."

I swallow back tears and hug her back, not feeling much like a man in this moment. Tomorrow, Bevy will no longer be here to laugh at my jokes and challenge me to be a better person. For the first time in my life, I don't want tomorrow to come.

My mom pulls away and presses her hands to either side of my face. "No matter what choices you make in life, your father and I will still love you. But I'm telling you right now, if you don't go after that girl, you're going to regret it the rest of your life."

I look at her in confusion, wondering how she could possibly know what's going on in my head. "I'm not a stupid woman, my boy. I know what Bevy is planning on doing tonight. We've talked about it a few times and she asked for my advice."

"Let me guess, you told her to go?" I ask angrily.

"Why should she stay, Trip? Yes, I'm worried about her, but you and I both know her father is never going to love that girl like she deserves and give her the attention she needs. Now that her mother is gone, I told her to follow her dreams, something that girl should've done a long time ago. I'm telling you the exact same thing right now. I know you don't want to work at the bank and your father knows it, as well. He's just too stubborn to say anything. I also know you've been in love with Bevy longer than you care to admit. If you want something badly enough, you can't be afraid to go after it. If you want to be a handyman on the island, do it. If you want to be with Bevy, do it. There's nothing stopping you but your own fears."

I look away from my mother and take a deep breath. Bevy has been through a lot on this island. I know she wants to get away from the memories, but I need her here with me. I need to prove to her that I can erase all of the bad things and fill them with good.