If It Makes You Happy Page 5

  Mayor Way adjusted his clothes. “Well, you certainly get an A for enthusiasm, but we have to finish the ceremony, so if you’ll stand to the side here”—he gestured to the right of me, and Kara leaped into place—“we’ll make the next call for volunteers.”

  Kara hopped from foot to foot, clasping her hands together. “Look how cute you look with your tiara, oh my God, I’m gonna die.” And then she lowered her voice so only I could hear as the crowd laughed. “Don’t worry. I got you. This is going to be so epic.”

  My lungs loosened up. The tension curling inside my shoulders straightened out, letting me slouch into my normal relaxed posture. Kara had no problem falling on the proverbial spotlight sword in the most dramatic way possible to protect me. To give me a chance to breathe and stop my bearings from rolling away.

  There’d been two queens before. Two kings as well. There’d even been two kings and a queen one year—one of the wildest summers I’ve ever had in Haven Central. A veritable all-you-can-eat, I’m nosy as hell and don’t know how to mind my business buffet. Good old polyamory had won that summer.

  People would be disappointed that there wouldn’t be a romance to follow this year, but whatever. We would make up for that with … antics.

  If Kara was by my side, I could perform in public. We could totally be entertaining. We could let them into our world for a summer. No problem.

  Kara smiled at me, practically vibrating with energy. Between the Starlight competition and becoming the Merry Haven Summer Queen, she had to be overdosing on happiness.

  We hadn’t bothered to try to explain our relationship to anyone besides our families. I knew Kara. She wouldn’t want to bother with it now either. But we could probably even pretend to be lovey-dovey if we had to. Now that would be hilarious and so, so over the top. Right up Kara’s alley.

  “Going once,” Mayor Iero said.

  “Going twice,” Mayor Way said.

  “And the contest is cl—”

  “Wait! I do,” a voice said from the right.

  “Excuse me!?” Kara snapped.

  “I volunteer,” he said again, and I forgot how to breathe.

  I must have been hallucinating from lack of oxygen over being picked to be queen of a contest I’d never entered. Because no way on God’s good green with a lot of brown thanks to climate change Earth did Dallas just volunteer while standing under the willow tree.

  Or step forward.

  Or walk through the crowd.

  Or climb the gazebo steps.

  “Hey, Winnie,” he said.

  “H-h-hi,” I whispered. “What are you doing?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know.” Kara whispered, too.

  “I’m volunteering,” Dallas answered, voice low, eyes focused on my face. He moved into position, standing on my left. And then, he took my hand in his—slender fingers wrapping around the back of my hand, warm palm pressing against mine—and gave it a firm squeeze.

  “But why?” I asked, unable to comprehend the fact that Dallas had also voluntarily decided to hold my hand.

  His resulting smile grew in luxurious slow motion.

  No more volunteers stepped up.

  Mayor Iero had started speaking again, gesturing at us—Kara fuming, Dallas smiling, and me confused as all get-out.

  Me. Misty Summer Queen.

  Kara had volunteered. Dallas had also volunteered.

  They’d have to compete in a tiebreaker.

  That did not compute so hard, my brain short-circuited around the thought, making my eye twitch.

  The hand-holding continued on. I didn’t feel like I had completely returned to my body after mentally floating through the ether of despair and panic, but historically speaking, my palms should have been slick with sweat by now. That had to be gross. I didn’t even like the feel of it.

  Without looking at him, I flexed my fingers out, like I wanted to let go. He squeezed again, twice, in rapid succession.

  Why was he doing this? Did he feel sorry for me or something? Because he’d been way off. Maybe if I told him I wanted to be queen with Kara, he’d back out.

  I watched him watching the mayors banter back and forth, engaged and laughing when necessary. Maybe the hand-holding was all for show—a boy could be interested in me, I didn’t need my friend to rescue me.

  A familiar anger began to bubble up inside of me. I didn’t need or want him to try to swoop in and save me like some misguided knight fighting a dragon. He and his pity could go somewhere bright and fiery for all eternity. I refused to be anyone’s charity queen.

  “Um, why are you holding my queen’s hand?” Kara demanded, standing in front of me and Dallas. The mayors had finished whatever comedic set they had planned for this year and had left without me realizing it.

  “She looked like she needed it,” Dallas said with a shrug. “You okay? You looked like you were going to pass out for a second there.”

  “I’m fine.” I sounded it, too. Calm and monotone. And suspicious.

  The anger hadn’t left. A wariness settled under my skin. People were mean. Especially to fat girls. There was no guard to let down, because I stayed at attention.

  He nodded. “Good.” And then let go of my hand. “I’ll see you at the tiebreaker.” And then walked away. Just like that.

  “Is there something you want to tell me?” Kara asked through her teeth, looking around.

  The crowd had begun to drift away, along with the cameras, but if she yelled they would hear, and she definitely wanted to. Her cheeks bloomed into spots of soft red, and she stared at me with harsh eyes.

  “No?” One of us had to stay calm. In the short time between my name being called and now, my mood had fluctuated violently across the board. Some residuals of the anger I began to feel toward Dallas held on, but I couldn’t take that out on her. If we fought, we would both regret it. I had to let her have this moment.

  “Then why did he volunteer?”

  “I don’t know! How am I supposed to know? It’s not like I could ask him.”

  “You should’ve told me,” she insisted, crossing her arms over her chest. I could read Kara like a book—in a matter of seconds, anger had begun to give way to hurt. “I can’t believe you would keep something like this from me.”

  We didn’t have secrets between us. We made three unbreakable rules, and that’s number one.

  “I didn’t tell you because there’s nothing to tell.” I looked her in the eye. She needed to know I meant every word I said. “I do not keep secrets from you. Ever. How could you even think something like that?”

  “Because you always get weird about stuff.”

  “Weird?” I asked, taken aback. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Con-gra-tu-lations!” Sam sang, appearing with Winston. “I cannot believe that happened!”

  Winston poked me in the side, a wry grin already in place.

  They hadn’t heard us fighting. Was that even a real fight? Kara and I never fought, so I didn’t even know.

  “It was like a movie,” Sam kept going. “When Dallas volunteered, you could hear a pin drop. I swear Lacey almost fainted.”

  Lacey. Last I had heard, Dallas and Lacey had broken up after prom. Both Kara and Granny had told me, which meant everyone in Haven Central had to be talking about it. I didn’t know the specifics of the breakup, no one did apparently. Dallas volunteering must have been a huge shock to everyone, not just Kara.

  “Are we gonna get out of here or what? Everyone’s leaving,” Winston said.

  “Yeah,” I said, eyes still on Kara, who made a show of not looking at me even though she knew I wanted her to. “Let’s go.”

  Seven

  Being a newly crowned queen did not come with a get-out-of-your-shift-free card.

  Granny had smiled that smile I love most in the world—the one that said, I am both thrilled and confused by this but you’re my baby and I love you—tried on my tiara, but then promptly gave it back and reminded me that I
had to work in two hours and should probably take a nap.

  “When did you get new menus?” one of the two customers sitting in the booth asked. We made eye contact and my brain went blank for a second. East Asian with perfectly tousled hair, a perfectly symmetrical face, and a stare that made you fall in love at first sight, maniacally giggling the whole way down. People who looked like him got scouted to be models in random public places like malls and banks.

  “We didn’t. This is the special Midnight Oil menu. Limited selection and such.” I tried not to stare, but did I know these people? Both were obviously Very Beautiful™ and not from Haven Central. But if they were familiar enough with the menus to notice the day/night change, they must have been regulars.

  “Oh,” the other customer said. Her braids looked like mine except shorter, stopping just above her shoulders, and her skin color resembled Winston’s. She didn’t have physical facial perfection down pat like her friend did, but damn she was cute. Her smile alone could warm and charm the coldest of hearts. “We really just wanted milkshakes and fries.”

  “She wanted that,” he said. “I’m here against my will.”

  “We agreed: I would go on this little road trip of yours as long as we ate proper road trip food. You promised.” Her smile could also dazzle me into committing whatever crime she wanted, Jesus Christ. Talk about a power couple. “We want these ones.” She pointed to the menu. He didn’t object again, sighing dramatically and turning away—before turning back to her with a beautiful and resigned smile I recognized from watching hours upon endless hours of rom-coms. His fate was sealed. She was it for him.

  Before I could get all weepy because why not meeeee???? I collected their menus and headed to the kitchen. Fries in the basket. Basket in the oil. Set the timer. Milkshakes: two scoops of chocolate ice cream, half a cup of whole milk, chocolate chips, Marshmallow Fluff, and secret sauce. Blend.

  After making sure the customers had plenty of salt and ketchup, I flounced back to my podium.

  “There are people here,” Sam whispered. She’d been wearing my tiara since Granny handed it to her.

  “Yeah, they do show up now and again.” I sat next to her and she linked our arms together, resting her head on my shoulder.

  “Go to sleep. I’ll be up in an hour.”

  “No.” She looked like if she blinked too hard, she’d fall off her stool and into a deep slumber for the next hundred years.

  “Why?”

  “I miss you.”

  I snorted before I could stop myself. Sam’s “sensitivity” often meant she took things the wrong way. I had a strong dislike for that word. Her dad disagreed that it was anything more than that, but I knew Sam. I was almost positive she wasn’t just sensitive.

  “You see me every day.”

  “But we don’t have a thing.”

  “What?”

  “You know.” She raised her head, eyes half closed and bleary, bottom lip jutting out slightly. “You and Winston have Win-Win movie night. You and Kara have, um, well everything. And now you’re gonna spend all of your free time with whoever wins the tiebreaker. What about me? We don’t have anything. We should have a thing.”

  Back at home, Sam, Winston, and I never really hung out together at school.

  I’d already said good-bye to most of my high school friends. The vast majority of my friendships existed out of necessity. I saw them five days a week and we fell into a routine. Nothing wrong with that or going our separate ways after graduation. I’m sure we’d keep in touch online, but that’d probably be it.

  Winston was one of those kids who had found a group in kindergarten and stuck with them. Casey, Henry, Ethan, and Winston—the Chew Crew, a walking pack of snarky human garbage disposals doused in AXE body spray, with hearts of gold buried way, way, way down underneath all of their unstable hormones.

  I liked them. Most of the time.

  Sam, however, didn’t seem to have anyone. I knew she mostly hung out with her cheer squad, who hung out with the football team because they seemed determined to be a stereotype, but I didn’t think she had someone she would consider a best friend. She never mentioned any of her squad members at home. After her last relationship ended, she flat out refused to date anymore.

  I’d thought that maybe she was the kind of person who naturally preferred being alone—she liked cheerleading as a sport and tolerated the social part of it because she had to—but lately, I wasn’t so sure.

  It was kind of weird, because kids ten and under practically worshipped her, followed her around like a beloved general who earned every ounce of their respect. Adults adored her. She charmed them senseless and became their shining example of everything a teenager should be. But in between those two age ranges? Things got dicey.

  There’d been a couple of incidents where a few girls on her squad stole from her. Another time with a different group, from her AP biology class, who decided it would be a great idea to drive to Canada without telling anyone. We thought she’d been kidnapped because she left her phone at home. And I heard her crying more than once in her room because of stuff people said about her online. It even happened with Winston. I knew he didn’t hate her, but sometimes, he said things that really made me wonder if I was wrong about that.

  “Is that why you’re sitting down here with me?”

  “It’s why I’m here at all. Me and Winston only come here because you want to.” She nodded—I had to look away. Her earnestness always burrowed straight into my soul. Her happiness was my happiness and vice versa to cover any and all vagueness.

  Everyone had that one truth that fueled them. Mine was this: my family. My life revolved and lived and breathed around being that one person everyone could count on.

  If Sam needed something, I usually got it done.

  My baby cousin, both a delight and a wreck waiting to happen, knew she could count on me.

  “We can have a thing,” I agreed.

  “Can I pick it?”

  “Ehhhh…” When it came to things, our interests didn’t overlap. At all. “I guess. But it can’t be this. You do too much to try and stay up late with me. There’s only room for one superhero in this family.”

  “There could be two.”

  “Yeah, no. Competition would turn me into a supervillain faster than a speeding bullet. It’s for the greater good that I remain unchallenged. Truly.”

  She laughed, sleepy and snorty. “Do you promise?”

  “I promise we can talk about it later. But what we can talk about now is Winston. Help me out. What’s up with him?” Winston’s foul mood had returned the second we pulled into Goldeen’s parking lot.

  “How should I know?” She shrugged. “It’s not like he ever tells me anything.”

  Sam had been my one and only hope of figuring out Winston without actually asking him. “Damage control it is, then.”

  * * *

  Later, upstairs, when Goldeen’s and the house had stilled and Sam’s chainsaw snores in the top bunk threatened to knock down the walls of our shared room, I allowed myself five sleepy minutes to be happy and not worry about anything.

  FAM-BAM-MAJAMA

  Winnie: MOOOOOOM! I’m the QUEEN!

  Winnie: They pulled my name and I’m the Misty Summer Queen! I HAVE A TIARA! And! Kara volunteered!

  Winnie: Dad, yes, there might be a king. His name is Dallas and he also volunteered.

  Winnie: He’s really nice. Winston will tell you.

  Winston: no. i won’t.

  I switched chat windows.

  WINSTON (Zeddemore)

  Winnie: Unless you’re going to tell me what’s up GO TO BED

  I waited for his response but it never came.

  WINSTON (Zeddemore)

  Winnie: Thanks for walking with me to the gazebo. I kind of froze.

  Winston: /kind of?/

  Winston: [picture message]

  I covered my mouth with my hand to muffle my laugh. Winston had the absolute best mock-shocked face. Instead o
f sending GIFs like everyone else, he always sent pictures of his actual reactions. He had such an expressive face that he hid from everyone except for me.

  Restarting my five sleepy minutes felt like a wonderfully brilliant idea, because in every universe eight minutes of indulgence outmatched a measly five. I turned onto my side, snuggling down farther under my soft sheets with the wickedly high thread count. When it came to little things like that—bedding, shoes, lotions—Granny didn’t mess around “with the cheap stuff,” as she put it. “Your body deserves to feel good even if you’re struggling. You gotta take care of you.”

  Indeed. I wiggled my toes, rubbed my freshly shaven bare legs along the fabric, sighing in happiness.

  Queen Winnie.

  Dallas had stood poised and glorious, smiling the whole time. And he had had such warm hands! I squeezed my hand into a fist, trying to remember that first moment when he had grabbed it. The feeling felt buried under the pressure to remain calm, trapped under the fight to stay present and not collapse. I couldn’t reach it. Yet another memory lost to panic because I couldn’t get my shit together and be brave and not care what anyone thought about me. Because I was too busy trying to figure out why everything was happening instead of experiencing the moment. My moment. No matter what else happened, I’d always regret missing out on that first sensation, that first touch in its purest first form. My regret came through stronger than the memory of holding Dallas’s hand had. It twisted inside of my mind, maliciously whispering, “that’s all you’ll ever get” and “it’s over” and “you blew it” while punching me in the heart.

  I’ll always remember the first time I had held Kara’s small soft hand in mine, because my heart thumped so hard I thought my body would split in half. Crack straight down the middle without a single regret because I had died happy.

  But Kara wasn’t happy. She always texted me to say good night, but I didn’t have any messages from her yet. It seemed so stupid—how could she possibly think I had anything to do with Dallas volunteering?