The End of Forever (4 page)

“Let me explain,” Erin said, taking the chain from Amy’s hand. “First, the key is to my car, which I will let you borrow.”

“You mean you’re going to let me use
your
car? Thanks, Erin. Thanks a lot.”

“On very rare occasions,” Erin emphasized.

Amy turned to her father. “Does this mean I won’t be getting my Porsche this year?”

“The dealer was back-ordered, so we thought we’d hold off for a while,” he told her with a straight face.

She swung around to face Erin, who continued. “This,” she pointed to the small box on the chain, “is something that you need in order to keep track of the keys.” Erin crossed to the far side of the room and put
the keys on the edge of the buffet. “Now whistle,” she told Amy.

Her sister obliged, and the box let out a high-pitched whine. “If you ever misplace your keys, Amy—of course we all realize that will never happen.” The others joined in with shouts of, “Never!” and “Not Amy.”

“If you can’t find them, all you have to do is whistle,” Erin interrupted.

Amy clapped gleefully. “I love it! Oh Erin, it’s super.” She bolted out of the dining room, and in a minute they heard her whistle and the box whine.

Mrs. Bennett offered Erin an approving nod. “Looks like you’ve found the perfect gift. And it’s nice of you to share your car.”

Erin couldn’t help but feel pleased with her choice. Travis caught her eye, and the approval she saw there caused her pulse to quicken. Mr. Bennett yelled out, “Amy, where are you? Are you going to cut this cake, or are we supposed to take chunks out of it with our bare hands?”

“I’ll do it,” she said. “But I get the part with the most icing.”

Mr. Bennett handed the camera to Travis. “Can you get a shot of us together? I intend to have plenty of pictures to embarrass Amy with when she’s a refined old lady.”

Travis looked through the viewfinder and aimed. “Squeeze in tighter.” The Bennett’s bunched around Amy, who hunched low and peeked from behind the
cake with a silly grin. “You’ve got frosting on your nose, Amy,” he said. “I’ll wait while you wipe it off.”

Erin muttered, “All we ever do around here is wait on Amy.”

Amy crossed her eyes, and Travis snapped the shutter.

On Friday after school Erin found Shara in one of the music rooms, practicing her songs for the upcoming recital. Shara’s haunting, lyrical voice sent goose bumps up Erin’s arms. “I thought I’d better get some extra practice time in,” Shara said, signaling Erin into the tiny, soundproof room.

Erin wished Amy would take her part in the recital half as seriously. “No hurry,” Erin told her. “I’ll wait.” She sat in a metal chair.

“I’m glad you’re sleeping over tonight. With my mom visiting her sister and Dad working late at the hospital, I dreaded the thought of being home alone.” Shara said. “After dinner we can go to a movie at the mall and then maybe do some cruising.”

“Cruising at the mall? Only nerds hang around the mall on Friday night.”

“Now don’t be negative. You never know.”

“I know,” Erin said.

“Just remember, Erin, Spring Fling comes up after Easter, and I for one intend to go this year. That requires meeting somebody to ask.”

To Shara it was all so simple, but Erin found it far more complicated. She didn’t want to attend the big Briarwood extravaganza with just anybody. She
wanted to go with a guy who mattered to her. Unfortunately, the only guy who mattered was off-limits. “What about you and Kenny? You were seeing a lot of him before Christmas.”

“Kenny’s old news. He was nice enough, but sort of dull, if you know what I mean.”

“And you don’t want to go with a bunch of girls like we did last year? I’m hurt.”

Shara made a face. “No thanks. I want to buy something ridiculously expensive and watch some guy’s eyeballs pop out when I walk through the door.”

“If that’s all you want, wear your birthday suit.”

“If all I wear is my birthday suit, he’ll run off screaming,” Shara grumbled. “Don’t you want to go? You’re a dancer, after all.”

“There’s no similarity between that kind of dancing and the modern and jazz that I like to do.”

“But picture yourself slow-dancing with someone tall, dark, and sexy.” Shara did a few spins around the cramped room. “Then later, in the moonlight …”

It was all too easy for Erin to picture. “Sorry, Shara. I can’t imagine meeting Mr. Right at the mall.”

“You have no imagination.” Erin smiled. The problem was, she had too much imagination. “I’ll bet Amy is taking Travis,” Shara said.

“She’s already on me to help her pick out something at the boutique. Her taste in formal wear is as crazy as she is, and so far she can’t settle on anything.”

“Knowing Amy, she’ll turn up in her clown makeup,” Shara said.

“Knowing Amy, shell be so late that everyone will have gone home by the time she gets there.”

Shara chuckled and picked up her books. “Come on, let’s go. If we hurry, we can grab a bite at my house, then go to the early show. That’ll leave us about an hour to hang around before the mall closes.”

Hadn’t Shara heard a word Erin had said? But rather than argue, Erin grabbed her things and left with her friend. “Don’t forget, we have rehearsal tomorrow morning,” she told Shara.

The blond-haired girl groaned. “You’re a regular slave driver, Erin.”

“The recital’s next Saturday night, and we’re going to be best in the show.”

“Is Amy supposed to meet us at the studio? She’ll be late.”

“Not tomorrow,” Erin said with a smug grin. “I set her alarm ahead an hour. I figure that should put her there right on time.”

“You sneaky devil,” Shara said with a laugh.

Erin tapped her forehead with her finger. “There’s more than one way to outwit my sister’s internal clock. You just have to use your brain and be creative. Like it or not, time is where people exist between living and dying. Even Amy Sue Bennett has to punch a time clock, just like the rest of us mere mortals.”

“That’s deep,” Shara said with mock seriousness.

“That’s reality,” Erin countered, giving her friend a playful shove. “So get a move on it before time runs out on us and the mall closes.”

It rained the night of the recital, and Erin was afraid attendance would be down, so she kept peeking from behind the massive red curtain to watch the audience file down the aisles. By the time the program started, there were no empty seats in the theater.

Her number was last on the program, and as the curtain lifted for her performance, she sensed hundreds of eyes on her, making her adrenaline pump. Earlier shed felt as if she were tied in knots, but now, in the hushed atmosphere of the darkened theater, she was charged—completely calm, yet full of power for the dance.

Amy, dressed all in black, stood behind a Lucite podium at the far left corner of the stage. The elegant leather book lay open to her place. The music started and Shara sang. Erin arched her back, poised on pointe upstage, then walked on a diagonal to center stage. With perfect timing Shara’s song crescendoed, and Amy read from Psalm 139.

“Oh Lord, thou has searched me and known me.…” Erin began a controlled series of
balances.
“I will praise thee, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.… My substance was not hid from thee,
when I was made in secret.” As Amy read excerpts, Erin spun faster—her back erect, her arms forming a circle in front of her. The words became her music now. She leapt, executing a perfect spin in the air, landed, and dipped backward until her long hair brushed the floor as Amy read: “And lead me in the way everlasting.” She lost all sense of time until the last strains of the music faded and she posed dramatically in the center of the stage, with only the spotlight surrounding her.

Applause erupted, pulling her back to reality. She rose and blinked as the houselights came up, and smiling, she grasped Amy’s and Shara’s hands and bowed. Once the curtain closed, the three girls collapsed into hugs and squeals of relief. After weeks of work it was over. Erin could scarcely believe it. The other performers converged from the wings offering congratulations.

Ms. Thornton swept through the ranks saying, “Wonderful performance, ladies, really outstanding. Every one of you was spectacular. Now if your parents start coming backstage, don’t let them hang around too long. After all, we have a party to throw.”

They scurried toward the dressing rooms, where Erin plopped on a metal chair in front of the vanity mirror and reached for her cold cream. The girl next to her, a sophomore, said, “You were sensational, Erin.”

There was no mistaking the admiration on the girl’s face. “Thanks,” Erin told her.

“Aren’t we a super team?” Amy asked as she
dragged a chair over and positioned it between Erin and the other girl. “Pass your cold cream, please.”

Slightly annoyed, Erin asked, “I thought you brought your own. Where’s that fancy kit Mom and Dad bought you for your birthday?”

Amy shrugged and smeared the cream on her face. “I guess I was in such a hurry to be on time, I left it on my bed.”

Erin rolled her eyes. “Oh, Amy …”

“But I remembered my regular makeup.” She grinned and slathered on more of the greasy cream. “How longs this party supposed to last?”

“All evening. Why?”

“ ’Cause I told Travis to pick me up at eleven.’ ”

“You’re going out? It’s raining like crazy outside. Does Mom know?”

“Mom gave me permission.”

“Oh,” Erin said, annoyed. Amy was just barely sixteen, and already their mother was changing the curfew rules for her.

“We’re going to the latest Freddy Krueger flick. It doesn’t start until midnight.” Amy looked absolutely comical sitting talking with her sister while her stage makeup ran in streaks down her face.

One of the girls pointed at Amy and started laughing. “Take a look in the mirror, Amy,” she said. Another dancer said to Erin, “Amy’s such a riot. It must be a blast living with her.”

“It’s just nonstop laughs around our house,” Erin said, smiling stiffly. She faced the mirror and studied
her exotic makeup. The eye shadow made her look older, more glamorous.
No matter what I do or say, the spotlight always turns to Amy,
she thought.
Maybe if I leave on this makeup, I’ll become somebody more exciting than Erin Bennett.

Amy reached in front of Erin for a box of tissues. “Listen, if Ms. Thornton misses me, will you cover for me?”

Erin suddenly remembered the award Ms. Thornton had planned to give Amy. It would serve her right if she left before she got it. She started to hint that it might be best if Amy didn’t run off with Travis before the party was over but then peevishly decided against it. “Sure, Amy. I’ll cover.”

“Thanks. You’re a true sister.” Amy removed the last of the cold cream and stared hard at the mirror. “Good grief, where’d my face disappear to?” She made a production of looking under the long vanity table, beneath jars, and through some of the tabletop clutter while the other girls laughed and kidded her. Finally she retrieved her purse and pulled out a makeup pouch. “Here it is! I found it!”

“Stop being such a show-off,” Erin said crossly.

“Gosh, Erin, I’m sorry. Am I embarrassing you?” Amy asked sincerely.

Erin felt her face flush. Some of the other girls had heard, and she knew she must have come across as a prima donna. “Of course not.”

“I’d never do that on purpose, you know.”

The dressing-room door opened, and Ms. Thornton
peered inside. “Lets get a move on ladies. Everything’s set up on stage, and it’s already ten o’clock.”

The room burst into activity, and soon Erin found herself alone. She still hadn’t even begun to remove her stage makeup and dress for the party. She sighed and stood, glanced around at the jumble of duffel bags and clothes, and wondered where hers was buried. She hated being late. Her irritation with Amy returned. It had been the news about her sister’s date with Travis that had started it all.

In the mirror she eyed her costume. The gold bangle earrings and the beautiful scarf tied around her hips made her remember the day she’d been alone with him in the boutique and he’d told her she looked pretty. Now the scarf looked limp and sad, and the jewelry seemed tarnished. Why couldn’t she be the one with the date? She was older than Amy. Why couldn’t Travis Sinclair be interested in her?

“Stop it,” she demanded of her reflection. “Just stop wishing for the impossible.” Erin found her duffel bag, quickly removed the elaborate makeup with cold cream, reapplied her everyday makeup, and changed into jeans and a sweater.

The stage was bathed in fuchsia and gold lights, and a sheet cake sat on a table decorated with balloons and banners. Ms. Thornton had thought of everything. Shara wove through a group of girls and came up to Erin, handing her a piece of cake on a napkin. “What kept you? I changed in the other dressing room.”

“Amy got to chattering, and before you knew it, everybody was ready but me.”

Shara toasted Erin with her cake. “We were a hit, weren’t we?”

Erin gave a lackluster shrug. “I guess so.”

“What’s bugging you?”

“Nothing.”