“Leigh Frisbee is a firm believer in family face time,” he said. “Leigh Frisbee does not tolerate cereal in the evening.”
“Leigh Frisbee sounds a little scary,” I said.
He smiled. “Nah. She’s awesome. Her cooking is legendary and the more people she can feed, the happier she is. That’s how we ended up doing game night at our place. The snacks were just too good to go anywhere else. Speaking of which, how are you at Speculator?”
“Speculator?”
He sat back in his seat, eyes wide. “Seriously? It’s only the best gameever. Settlement building, cabin construction, material gathering, pelts… it’s got it all.”
“Pelts?”
He ate another fry. “Just wait, Idaho. With your killer instinct and my experience, we’ll be unstoppable.”
And there it was again. The future, our future, as clear in his mind as if it was laid out right beside us like a game board itself. All summer I’d been bracing myself for the unknowns of the fall, this jump into a new school and a new life. And now, here was this boy, so confident that what lay ahead would not only be guaranteed butgood. How could I do anything but fall in love with him?
I didn’t, though, not then. Or at that first game night a couple of days later, when he brought me into the Frisbee living room, a hand on my shoulder, and introduced me to Nalini, Hannah, the rest of the gang, and the intricate rules of Speculator. Don’t get me wrong: I was crushing hard then, and we texted constantly and walked to classes together at school, where I began to sit at lunch with him and his friends on the edge of the center fountain, their customary spot. But it was the following week, a random weekday, that I’d look back on as the day he became mine.
Colin’s family was super involved at Lakeview Methodist, where he and his dad both taught Sunday school. While Marisol had been raised Catholic, she wasn’t practicing, and my dad and I had never been religious one way or the other. So when he asked if I wanted to come along to the annual Children’s Dance that Tuesday, I said yes immediately, curious to see what it was all about.
It was a mild night in early fall, and I remember feelingoddly nervous as we walked in through the main doors to the brightly lit church. I wasn’t sure how to act, suddenly, or what the protocol was, and felt grateful when Colin took my hand.
Everyone knew him, of course, with hellos coming from all sides as he led me to a seat toward the front, next to his mom and dad. The minister, a surprisingly young guy who greeted me warmly, went to a podium shortly after and led everyone in a prayer. I watched Colin bow his head, his parents beside him, and did the same, feeling that peace of so many people being quiet together. It was nice.
The dance was an annual thing, part recital, part tea party. All the kids under twelve who participated in the after-school program had been taught some easy steps, and this was when they got to dress up and show off what they’d learned. Colin’s group was the second graders. The cuteness as he herded them onstage in their paper crowns decorated with sun shapes was almost unbearable.
Truthfully, I felt the same way about Colin. Times like this, watching him move through the world with such humor, effortlessly, I couldn’t believe he’d chosen me. At Fountain, I’d been content to stay on the periphery, observing. That hadn’t changed: In fact, I was doing it right then. Being with him, though, gave me a connection. Like, now I was linked to something bigger, better than myself.
When all the classes were finished, the pastor invited anyone who was so inclined to come up onstage for one last dance. By this point, things were quickly devolving, especially with the younger kids, many of whom had wandered off or sat down. Afew people got up around me, but I stayed where I was, watching Colin as he reassured a girl in a shiny pink dress who had burst into tears. As her mom swooped in, he turned, gesturing for me to join him.
Immediately, I shook my head. But he was undeterred, again giving me the universal sign forcome on. Beside me, I heard his mom chuckle: She and Mr. Frisbee had seen it too. Maybe it was this, an added audience, that made me get to my feet.
By the time I got to the stage, it was full-out chaos: kids, parents, crumpled crowns, seated preschoolers—some wailing. Colin, however, kept his eyes on me as I approached, feeling every bit of my shyness. But then he held up his hands in the same stiff, formal way the kids had been taught, giving me a grin, and I found myself doing the same, our fingers locking around each other’s. As he began to lead me into a boxy step—front, right, back, left—a final song began to play over the loudspeakers.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
The words were still in my head later that night, when Colin kissed me for the first time as we sat on the front steps of my house. They became part of the story too, like Idaho and Seymour the Goat. But it was that dance I’d come back to more than anything. How after so long of my being sidelined, feeling shapeless, I’d been brought into a place I fit perfectly. From then on, all I wanted was to remain there, like a planet in endless orbit, forever.
CHAPTER TWO
A toast,” Mr. Frisbee announced, lifting his glass, “to the graduates.”
It was loud in the restaurant, despite us being in the back room, and it took a moment for everyone to stop talking. All week there had been one final thing after another: last day of classes, last lunch, last night as a high school student. This, though, felt new. A first.
“Eighteen years ago, when Colin was born,” Mr. Frisbee began, holding his glass aloft, “I thought a lot about what it means to have a son.”
“Dad,” Heather, who I’d noticed sneaking sips from her mom’s beer, groaned. “You said a toast. Not a speech.”
Leigh shushed her, moving the bottle to her other side. Beneath the table, Colin squeezed my hand.
“I have always been proud of Colin,” his dad continued, as Piper asked my dad loudly if she could go to the bathroom. Marisol was already outside, walking Leo around to keep him from screaming. “But today, he inspired me.”
“Dad,” Colin said, but I could hear the tightness in his voice. “Don’t cry.”
“He already is,” Heather observed.
“To my son Colin and his incredible girlfriend, Finley,” Mr. Frisbee continued. “Two amazing kids who will most certainly change the world. Congratulations.”
