Chapter 39

"Yo, stud, the music stopped."

There was something about holding Tami. We were surrounded by a hundred other couples, but as I held her close and danced we might have been alone on a deserted island. I'd been looking in her eyes and had gotten lost in them.

"Huh?" I looked around. The band had stopped playing, and the other couples had stopped dancing and were applauding as Dennis Krimalaenski walked to the center of the stage. Ski, as everyone called him, held up his hand and the applause stopped.

"Last year, when I was a lowly junior," a few chuckles, "the prom got canceled, and then rescued by three sophomores who should have known better than to interfere with upperclass activities. A lot of people, including me, said it was the best prom ever." I concentrated on not turning red as the audience clapped. Tami was less successful.

"This year, those same three, now lowly juniors themselves--or maybe not, since they were voted honorary seniors last year. Maybe now they're honorary alumni. Anyway, those same three took over the prom committee, and despite rumors of embezzlement and Caribbean vacations made an even better prom."

More applause as a breeze blew through the park, ruffling gowns and decorations. Tami wore her long hair loose, and I never tired of watching it billow in the wind.

Ski held up his hands to quiet the crowd again. "Most of you know the weatherman was predicting a thirty per cent chance of rain tonight, but I'm told that when she was helping set-up earlier tonight, Robbie looked up at the sky, shook her finger, and said 'No.' And the weather has been perfect ever since."

This time, I joined in the applause. I couldn't see Robbie, but knew she and Troy Benning were somewhere in the crowd.

"Last year, they became honorary members of the class of two thousand five. So this year, I'd like them to become honorary members of the class of two thousand six as well." This time the applause was louder, and a lot of hands started pushing Tami and me toward the stage. We got there at the same time as Robbie and Troy. I hugged Robbie, then she hugged Tami before we joined Ski on stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the double, soon-to-be triple, seniors," Ski said with a flourish. The three of us took a quick bow before escaping.

"That was a pretty good hand, considering two of them managed to kill school sports," Ski said with a wink toward us. The crowd laughed, and I felt my cheeks burn.

"Not fair,"Robbie yelled. "Katie helped." The got the laughter even louder. Butz had canceled the rest of the season for baseball and softball after the Lake game, or rather non-game. Two days later, the track and tennis teams had walked off their fields in protest. There'd been a lot of grumbles from the parents and community, but the school board decided that they didn't have enough time to adequately contemplate the situation before the season ended anyway.

I missed baseball. And I was depressed that we wouldn't get our chance at the state title that had eluded us so far, but I wouldn't change what I did even if I could. I'm not sure everyone on the baseball team felt the same way.

Ski finished talking, and the band started playing again. I gave Robbie a light kiss and started dancing again.

"It's a perfect night, isn't it?" Tami murmured in my ear.

"I can't think of anything that would make it better."

I don't know why, maybe it was the mind reading thing working my way for once, or maybe there was something in here body language, but I knew Tami was trying to make up her mind about something. I gave her her mental space and just enjoyed her nearness.

"Tony, remember that letter I got two weeks ago?"

"Yep. It looked important."

"You wondered about it?"

"Sure did," I agreed. "But I knew you'd tell me when it was time."

Tami hesitated. I just danced.

"It was from the Times."

"Okay."

"The New York Times."

"Wow." I was impressed even if the Times wasn't my favorite newspaper. They were a little too far left for my taste.

"I applied for an internship, and they accepted me," Tami said softly.

I let go of Tami and stepped back. She amazed me. "That's fantastic," I said and meant it. "I didn't think the Times was that smart."

Tami grinned as couples danced around us. "It's for six weeks. Right after school ends," she said dropping the bad news.

Six weeks without Tami. I wasn't sure I could stand it. Even in the seventh grade when she was mad at me, I could still see her, or know she was close.

"You can't go." Tami looked shocked, but I knew right then that if I asked, she wouldn't go. I grinned. "If they find out your boyfriend's a Republican, they'll have you flogged."

Tami smiled and shook her head. "Tony, the New York Times does not flog people." The music stopped, and couples milled near us, waiting for the next song.

"An exorcism, then," I suggested.

"Anyway, I'm an independent."

"That you are, me lady," I said with a bow and a flourish. "But the Times is a bastion of liberals and Democrats. And please note that, especially at the Times, Democrat and democracy are two different and totally unconnected things."