At My Coming-of-Age Party, I Gave Her Away

The night before the school's coming-of-age gala, Brenda showed up with our class's scholarship student in tow and demanded I hand over my designer suit to him.

Vivian's family can't afford a suit, she said, and it's not like you'd miss one outfit. Oh, and your shoes too. And the watch. You're giving him those as well.

I laughed in disbelief. "The suit isn't enough? Now you want the watch and shoes too? What, just because he's broke I'm supposed to bankroll his entire life? Should I pay for his wedding and kids while I'm at it?"

Vivian Donaldson's expression darkened.

Brenda lost it. She told me I'd better have the suit, watch, and shoes ready by tomorrow morning, or she was calling off the engagement.

I went quiet. I looked at her the way you look at someone you're seeing clearly for the first time, then turned and called my grandfather.

The engagement was ending, all right. But I'd be the one to end it.

"You want to dissolve the engagement? Why?" Grandpa asked.

"Because it doesn't work anymore. I grew up with her. I thought I knew her inside and out. Turns out I barely knew her at all."

Silence on the other end. Then Ezra Dickerson spoke. "Fine. Find a time for both families to sit down for dinner. We'll settle it properly."

I agreed, walked back into the classroom, and buried myself in my books.

When evening study hall let out, half the class was hollering about how tomorrow they'd officially be adults, and tonight called for a blowout at the karaoke bar.

Even the teacher didn't stop them.

"You guys go ahead. Vivian's not feeling great. I'll stay with him."

One sentence from Brenda Pruitt and the room went dead. Every pair of eyes turned to me, including the teacher's.

They all knew. Everyone knew Brenda and I had grown up together, childhood sweethearts with an engagement to match.

I looked at her, and my eyes stung before I could stop them.

Twenty years. She'd been woven into every corner of my life, left marks so deep I couldn't tell where she ended and I began. Yet in her heart, I didn't even rank above a guy she'd known for three.

"Come on, Brenda, don't kill the vibe," one of our classmates said. "Besides, Tony Dickerson"

"Don't." Brenda's face went cold. "If he hadn't gone out of his way to humiliate Vivian just now, Vivian would be fine."

The few classmates who'd been about to speak up swallowed their words.

Vivian shot me a look, slow and deliberate, then patted Brenda's hand. "Go have fun, Brenda. I'll be okay."

He put on a perfectly crafted mask of loneliness as he said it.

Brenda's face crumpled with sympathy. She wrapped both hands around his arm.

"Stop. I'm staying with you tonight."

The blood drained from my face.

Staying with Vivian. The whole night.

Pain and rage twisted together in my chest. I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and demand she remember who I was. Her fianc. The man she'd been promised to since before either of us could walk.

The classmates around me saw my expression and scrambled to smooth things over.

"She's just joking, man. No way she'd actually spend the whole night with Vivian."

"Exactly. The whole school knows you two are childhood sweethearts with an engagement and everything. We're all waiting for the wedding invite."

"Ha, I've already got a fat gift envelope with your names on it."

Brenda's voice was flat. "Save your money. There might not be a wedding to celebrate."

She tightened her grip on Vivian's arm and walked out. Two steps past the door, she stopped and looked back at me.

"I gave you a chance. Whether you take it is up to you."

I smiled. Nodded. "Don't worry. I've already made my decision."

Twenty years of growing up side by side, and this was where the road split.

"That's messed up."

Classmates muttered around me, indignant on my behalf.

"Seriously. Forget the childhood-sweetheart thing for a second. She's literally engaged to you. How could she say she's spending the whole night with another guy?"

"I'll go get her back."

I stopped the classmate who was about to chase after her and smiled. "Forget it."

There's a saying that goes: someone who doesn't love you can't even see you exist.

If that was the case, why should I care?

"Let's go. Tonight's on me!"

The karaoke bar was buzzing with energy.

Because Vivian wasn't there.

Back when our class did group outings, nobody had ever looked down on him for being a scholarship kid. We brought him everywhere. But he always found a way to say something that killed the mood.

"A plate of fruit costs a hundred bucks? Wow, you guys are really loaded."

"I'm not like you all, able to buy presents, so all I can give is a verbal happy birthday."

"My family's poor. Must be nice to just throw out clothes because of one little hole."

He always cast himself as the victim, as if we were flaunting our wealth in his face just by existing. And every single time, Brenda would jump to his defense.

"Hey, what are you spacing out about? Sing something. Get all that frustration out."

A classmate shoved the microphone into my hand, then ran over and queued up "Love You to Death."

It used to be my favorite song. Not anymore.

"Change it. Put on 'Single Love Song.'"

The classmate paused for a second, then quietly switched the track.

The opening notes had barely started when the door to our room slammed open. Brenda walked in with Vivian right behind her.

The room went dead silent in an instant. You could have heard a pin drop.

Brenda acted like she didn't notice. "Vivian talked me into it. I thought about it and figured he was right, I really should come. Besides, I thought you all deserved to see the new him."

She gestured at him with a wide grin. "Ta-da! Well? Isn't he handsome?"

Silence.

I looked at Vivian standing there in a tailored suit, tie knotted, dress shoes polished, and I was the first to clap. "Very handsome."

"At least you've got taste!" Brenda was pleased with my cooperation. "Vivian's always been good-looking. He just never had the money to dress the part. Now look at him. He's not a step behind any of you."

I smiled.

Handsome?

Designer labels head to toe, and he still looked like a costume on the wrong actor.

No amount of expensive clothes could manufacture the kind of presence a rotten soul would never possess.

Brenda calling him handsome was nothing more than love making her blind.

Brenda looked Vivian up and down, tapping her chin. "Something's still missing."

She turned to me. "Tony, take off your watch and give it to Vivian. I won't ask you for clothes anymore. Just one watch. Surely you can't have a problem with that?"

I froze. My eyes dropped to my wrist.

The watch was old. It didn't even keep accurate time anymore. But I'd worn it every single day, maintained it with care.

Because Brenda's father had given it to me.

The day Uncle Asher clasped it around my wrist, he'd said: "This watch has been passed down through the Pruitt family for generations. I'm entrusting it to you now. From here on, Brenda and this family are in your hands."

I was quiet for a long time before I managed to speak, my voice raw. "Are you sure?"

"What's there to be unsure about? It's just a watch. Or are you telling me you can't even part with a watch?"

Brenda's voice was sharp with irritation. She walked over and yanked the watch off my wrist. The whole thing was rough, careless. I almost stopped her more than once, but I held back.

Uncle Asher, don't blame me. This was Brenda's choice. She decided Vivian deserved this watch more than I did.

I looked at her face and said the words only to myself.

Brenda hadn't expected me to stay silent through the whole thing. She seemed almost surprised at how easily the watch had come off, and she nodded with approval.

"Tony. You've finally learned to behave."

With that, she turned back to Vivian's side and fastened the watch around his wrist with a tender smile, handling it with the utmost care, as though she were terrified of hurting him even slightly.

Something sharp drove through my chest. I forced myself not to look away. I kept watching.

Because I needed to learn how not to care.

After the watch was fastened on Vivian's wrist, Brenda happily dragged him up to sing.

They were all over each other. During the love songs, their eyes locked, brimming with tenderness meant only for each other.

They kept inching closer. Vivian's arm slid around Brenda's waist without a shred of shame, and he turned to shoot me a look dripping with provocation and triumph.

I kept my face blank and drained a full glass of beer in one go.

The party dragged on until eleven. Brenda had drunk too much. She was half-lidded, slumped against Vivian, her arms looped around his neck, mumbling for him to take her home.

Vivian looked at me, the corner of his mouth curling. "Tony, maybe you should be the one to take Brenda home."

Before I could speak, Brenda flung her hand dismissively, slurring, "No. I hate him today. I don't want him taking me anywhere."

"I'm going to your place. I promised I'd spend the night with you."

"That's..." Vivian put on a show of alarm and turned to me quickly. "Tony, she's had too much. She doesn't mean it. Don't take it to heart."

I shrugged. "She hates me. She insists on staying with you. So she's all yours. Take her home, take her to your place, whatever you want."

I left without looking back. My eyes were already burning red.

On the way home, memories of Brenda flickered through my mind like a reel that wouldn't stop.

Childhood sweethearts. Growing up side by side. My whole world had been full of her.

From kindergarten through college, I'd kept her behind me, shielding her from anything that might hurt her.

In elementary school, an older kid made her cry. I grabbed her hand, marched her straight to him, and demanded an apology. It turned into a fight. She got her apology. I got a swollen face and a bloody nose, but I was grinning the whole way home.

Every year on her birthday, I begged my parents to buy up every firework in the city and take out the front page of every newspaper just for her.

When we were sixteen, our families sat down and arranged our engagement. I was so happy I didn't sleep a single minute that night.

I thought we'd walk together like that forever. Side by side until our hair turned gray.

Then Vivian came along, and everything changed.

She stopped being playful with me. What replaced it was scolding and shouting.

I endured it. Again and again. Not for any grand reason. Just because I loved her.

But did she love me? Before today, I'd been certain of the answer.

She loved me too.

I was wrong.

She never loved me that much.

Twenty years together. Could that really lose to three?

It could.

The next morning, I saw Brenda outside the classroom.

Her face was pale, her legs unsteady. Vivian hovered beside her, holding her arm with exaggerated care.

I paused for a beat, then walked past them like nothing was wrong.

Brenda stopped me.

"What is it?" My voice was flat.

Brenda wouldn't meet my eyes. She stared at the ground. "So, last night, Vivian drove me home. I'd had so much to drink that I passed out the second I got in. I forgot to call and let you know I was safe."

"Oh." I nodded. "Anything else?"

She clearly hadn't expected me to be this indifferent. Her brow furrowed. "You don't believe me?"

"I believe you. I just didn't sleep well. I'm tired."

"Take care of yourself. You can't drink like that again." She said it like a warning, then hesitated before wrapping her arms around me gently.

"Yesterday was my fault. I shouldn't have yelled at you or said those things just to hurt you. I'm sorry."

"Oh, and I have a surprise for you at the coming-of-age gala tonight."

I smiled. "Funny. I have one for you too."

"Really?" Her eyes lit up. "We really do think alike."

I smiled and headed toward the classroom. Just before stepping through the door, I glanced back on instinct. Vivian's face was dark, and Brenda was clinging to his arm, pouting and cooing like nothing in the world was wrong.

Ha.

I let out a scornful laugh and walked into the classroom without looking back.

The coming-of-age gala started right on time. Every student's parents were there, and naturally, both my family and Brenda's had come.

One by one, students took the stage to thank their parents.

When it was Brenda's turn, she gave the usual grateful speech to her mom and dad. Then she turned to me, dropped to one knee, held up a ring, and said in a voice loud enough for the entire hall to hear:

"Tony, will you marry me?"

The whole room erupted in shock.

Asher Pruitt and Noreen Pruitt beamed with joy.

My parents were smiling too. Only my grandfather sat expressionless.

I looked over at Vivian. He was grinning from ear to ear, holding up one finger in my direction. A taunt. A dare.

I smiled. Then, under the gaze of every person in that room, I walked up to the stage. Step by step.

Brenda watched me with bright, expectant eyes.

I paused for a moment. Then I reached out, plucked the ring from her hand, turned, and hurled it straight at Vivian. My voice rang across the hall.

"I won't be marrying Brenda. Because she and Vivian Donaldson are the real couple. Let's all give them our blessing."

I started clapping. Alone. Then I turned back to Brenda, still on her knees, and said softly:

"Surprise. Did you like it?"