Twenty-Five

TWENTY-FIVE

Where does this story end?

Not that it has an actual end, of course, because I’m still here and my story’s still going.

But this story, this one of many stories of me and Greenville, should probably have some sort of end.

I mean, one ending could be of me flying.

Because what’s more magical than flying?

Up in the air, in my sparkly green Peter Pan outfit (yes, I stoned the whole thing), a set of very large citizens operating a crane connected to a metal wire connected to a metal harness you could kind of see under the outfit in a way I was worried looked like a diaper, but Berry said it didn’t.

I flew over the heads of all of Greenville, or at least the heads of Tanner and his fellow pirates.

Tanner didn’t even freak out when I almost put his eye out (foam) sword fighting. Of course, I apologized backstage afterward—it was a mistake—I think I was just super in character and also I’m not a great sword fighter. Tanner was, happily, more excited that he was killing it as Hook, which he was.

Speaking of, Sarah, who I thought was a great Wendy, even stood next to me and held my hand up when we took our bow at the end of the play, all while Greenville High’s gathered parents, or those who cared about something other than soccer, put their hands together for our stellar performance.

Small victories, is what Lucy calls it.

After the play, our big opening and closing night (high school), Mr. Davidson threw a huge party for the whole cast and crew and their parents at Beverly Lynde’s house. Which was amazing, mostly because Bev’s house is maybe the most amazing house I’ve ever seen in all of time, let alone Greenville, and I got to show it to Berry, and she loved it.

Plus, Beverly wore all green velvet for the occasion, including, I kid you not, a hoop skirt that made it almost impossible for her to walk through her own doorways.

You cannot beat Bev Lynde for fashion.

As if to match his aunt’s pizzazz, Davidson drove his mint-condition Coupe de Ville that he wipes every day with an old T-shirt, but never drives, to the party (so he could show it off, obviously).

Still buzzing from our standing ovation possibly, Mr. Davidson said next year we’re going to up the ante, theater-wise.

What could that mean?? Guys and Doll s?! Grease? DOLLS AND DOLLS??? Talk about having an agenda.

Millie and Mr. Davidson ended up meeting at the party, and now she and Mr. Davidson are, like, best friends, by the way. She’s even using him for her next series, Small Town.

Tanner’s dad didn’t come to the after-party, which was kind of sad, but Gilly’s did. And he brought her daisies and told everyone how proud of her he was. Which was embarrassing, but I think in a good way, from the look on Gilly’s face. He also gave me a daisy and a pretty solid linebacker clap on the back.

I can’t tell if Gilly actually wants to be friends, or what it meant that she invited me to the dance. But for now, like the rest of the Forevers, she looks happy.

And I’ll take that any day.

Sarah’s mother also came to the party, looking like an older Sarah with big earrings and big hair. She shook my hand and told me I gave a magnificent performance. Then, like two minutes later, Berry told me her mom saw a social media post where Sarah’s mom said my performance was campy and overdramatic and she accused me of putting on airs! The campy and overdramatic bit is a tautology of sorts, which, she can look up what that means. I might have overplayed it a little but, hey, I just really enjoyed putting my hands on my hips in an angular fashion and talking in a loud, high-pitched cheerleader tone for all my lines.

Peter Pan is campy and overdramatic. He’s a kid who wants to be a kid forever. He fights pirates. He runs a club of “Lost Boys.”

Berry later reported that Sarah’s mom’s post got no likes and one person who replied, “Well, I thought she was great.”

And that got a bunch of likes.

So maybe all of Greenville is ready to move on.

Most importantly, Lucy and Millie both thought my performance was amazing. Even if Lucy had to close her eyes when I was soaring overhead. Millie said I looked happiest when I was soaring.

OH! You know who else was a fan? Principal Lynde. I kid you not, she sidled up to me by the chips and dip at the party and told me she thought I was “incredibly brave” for getting in the flying apparatus.

Who knew all I needed to do to get Principal Lynde’s respect was put on a harness and fly over the gym in a Peter Pan pose?

(Davidson admitted later that he might have played up the dangerous elements of the flying apparatus. Which says a lot about Principal Lynde. But still. I’ll take it!)

Aside from my parents, Berry’s parents were possibly the most exuberant parents at the play and the after-party. Berry’s dad was wearing yet another shirt, gold with huge cuffs, that I plan to steal at some point.

Instead of flowers, Berry brought me a bright orange top hat.

Because Berry Blythe, who is officially my girlfriend, by the way, is the most amazing.

We left the party early, hopping in Mato and peeling off into the sunset. As we crested the hill, I put on Berry’s current favorite song, “Hang On to the Night” by Tegan and Sara, a Canadian pop duo who also happen to be twins. “Hang On to the Night” is from their 2016 album, Love You to Death. Which is a great album, actually.

I like this song mostly because I like the way Berry looks when she sings along to the lyrics. You think I like disco; you should see what Berry looks like when she sings, which she does more and more these days. Like when Berry sings a song, she’s int o it.

She sings it like she’s telling you a truth you don’t necessarily see right away. A truth about you and her, her and me. Her voice gets louder and louder and I roll down the windows as she gently turns the wheel to follow the curves of Greenville’s many impossible roads. Which are now my roads.

Just like Berry is mine and I am hers.

We are not Forevers, but we are here.

Home.

And that’s a great place to end a story, I think. Our wheels are turning and we are flying. We’re going somewhere. We’re on our way.