Page 10 of Don’t Let Me Go
The rule for eating food that’s fallen on the floor is the same as the rule for hugging another dude: Anything under five
seconds is okay. Anything more and you shouldn’t be surprised if you get funny looks.
I’ve been hugging Riley for a full minute now, and honestly, I couldn’t care less about rules. It feels good to be held. It’s
been so long since I’ve been close to anyone. Since I’ve let anyone get this close. I’d almost forgotten what it’s like to
be touched. I don’t care if it’s by a guy—even a gay guy. Riley is comforting. For the first time in a long time, I feel like
I can relax . Like the world isn’t crashing down on me.
I know that doesn’t make any sense. I only met him yesterday. And ten minutes ago, he was ready to tear me a new asshole.
But he didn’t. He stood there and listened to me tell him about the worst thing I’ve ever done. And when I finished, he didn’t
look at me like I was a monster or tell me to stay the hell away from him. He offered to be my friend.
Is it any wonder I can’t stop hugging him?
“Thank you,” I say, giving him one final squeeze before pulling away. As much as I’m enjoying this moment, I don’t want to
make him uncomfortable. Or give him the wrong idea.
“No problem,” he replies, blushing slightly and avoiding my eyes. “We should probably grab Duy and head over to Rink-O-Rama.
Audrey and Tala will be there soon, and Audrey does not like to be kept waiting.”
Riley slides off my bed, but I don’t follow. Instead, I feel a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Are you coming?” Riley asks.
I open my mouth but can’t form the words to answer. Riley must notice my apprehension because without missing a beat he says,
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone about what happened in Tallahassee.”
That’s exactly my worry. But Riley’s willingness to keep my secret somehow makes me feel worse than the thought of it getting
out.
“I don’t want to put you in that position,” I protest. “I don’t want you to lie to your friends.”
“I’m not going to lie. I’m just not going to volunteer certain information. If my friends want to know about you, they can
do their own stalking. They have Google.”
He’s right. It’s only a matter of time before someone looks me up on the internet. I should probably be up front and tell
the others about Devon before they hear it from someone else. But I’m not sure I have it in me right now. I’m pretty drained
from telling Riley.
“You sure you don’t mind?” I ask.
“I don’t mind,” he says, flashing me a smile. “You deserve your chance at a fresh start.”
Whether or not I deserve a fresh start remains to be seen, but an hour later, I’m at Rink-O-Rama. In terms of venues where
I might relaunch my life, it seems as good a spot as any.
The old Jackson wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this. He wasn’t a fan of skating rinks, especially not ones that seem
way too excited to bring back the eighties.
The walls are covered in oversize murals featuring painted caricatures of Molly Ringwald, Winona Ryder, and a bunch of other old actors I don’t recognize.
Hot-pink and turquoise-blue LEDs line the ceiling and provide the only lighting—except for the giant mirror ball hanging over the center of the rink.
As for the music? So far, the only songs I’ve heard have been by some band called ELO, which Duy told me stands for Electric Light Orchestra.
Despite all this, New Jackson is trying to keep an open mind. Old Jackson might have been too cool for a retro roller rink,
but Old Jackson also made really shitty life choices and wound up miserable, so I should probably stop listening to him.
“Come on, pretty boy, hurry up,” Audrey barks, skating around the bench where I’m seated. I’m struggling to lace up my skates
for the second time after missing an eyelet on the first attempt.
“Almost done.”
“Take your time,” Tala advises, sipping the root beer she purchased at the concession stand. “Safety first.”
She and Audrey must really be into skating. Or maybe they’re just into old eighties movies, because they’ve both dressed up
for the occasion. Audrey is wearing a collarless white shirt, tan vest, and blue jeans. She’s also parted her hair down the
middle in order to look more like Michael Beck, who’s apparently one of the stars of Xanadu . Meanwhile Tala is wearing a calf-length pink dress and knee-high white roller skates, which I’m told is what Olivia Newton-John
wore in the movie. She’s even got on a golden hijab that she says matches the exact shade of Olivia’s hair.
Of course, the prize for Most Unique Costume would have to go to Duy. They’re wearing a woman’s World War II uniform that
they’ve sewn from scratch. Supposedly, it’s an exact replica of what Olivia Newton-John wore in the movie’s flashback/dream
sequence. I don’t really know. Duy tried to explain the plot of Xanadu to me, but I’m pretty certain they were messing with me. The story sounds too bonkers to be a real movie.
“All set,” I announce, finally finishing with my laces. I push myself off the bench—and my feet immediately slip out from
under me.
“Whoa there!” Audrey exclaims, catching me before I fall on my ass.
“I’m okay,” I assure her, though I’m finding it harder than I expected to stay upright. Both of my feet seem determined to
escape in opposite directions.
“Have you ever skated before?” Tala asks, popping up beside me to steady me.
“Uh?.?.?.?yeah. Of course. It’s been a while, though.”
“How long?” Audrey demands.
“Um, maybe ten years, give or take?”
Audrey shakes her head. “Oh, boy.”
“You might want to take it slow,” Tala suggests, adopting the sort of tone that’s usually reserved for addressing small children.
“Maybe stick to the side of the rink? That way if you start to fall, you’ll be able to catch yourself.”
Wow. Okay. Not gonna lie, New Jackson is not loving this part of his fresh start. Finding out that I’m somehow the least athletically
coordinated member of the group isn’t a great boost to my ego.
“Is everything okay?” Riley asks, returning from the restrooms with Duy.
Audrey sighs in exasperation. “Jackson doesn’t know how to skate.”
“I can skate,” I insist with a confidence that turns out to be sorely unearned because a second later my legs buckle. Both
Riley and Duy have to grab hold of me to keep me from face-planting onto the carpet.
Luckily, no one can see how embarrassed I am because, without warning, the lights in the rink suddenly dim, leaving us in almost total darkness. At first, I assume it’s a power outage. Then I notice two things: The mirror ball is still sparkling, and a wave of applause is erupting around me.
“It’s starting!” Tala squeals.
The applause morphs from a general cheering into a deliberate, almost synchronized clapping. It reminds me of one of Micaela’s
cheer routines. Everyone in the rink is doing it. Staff, customers, everyone .
“What’s going on?” I shout over the noise.
“They’re about to play ‘Xanadu’!” Riley shouts back.
“The movie?”
“No.” He laughs. “The song.”
I stare at him in incomprehension. “All this is for a song?”
“It’s not just any song,” Duy informs me. “It’s literally one of the greatest pop songs in movie history ever .”
The crowd seems to agree. As soon as Olivia Newton-John’s voice sings out over the sound system, skaters flock to the rink
like their lives depend on it.
“Come on!” Audrey shouts, grabbing Tala’s hand and pulling her to the rink, where the LED lights are now pulsing in flashes
of neon pink and blue.
I can tell Riley and Duy want to be on the floor with their friends, but they’re stuck propping me up.
“It’s okay,” I shout. “I’ll sit this one out.”
“What? Don’t be silly!” Duy shouts back. “This song is the whole reason we came. They only play it once an hour.”
“I think Tala’s right. I need to take it slow. You two go without me.”
“No,” Duy snaps, grabbing my left hand. “Just hold on to Riley and me. You’ll be fine.”
“Yeah,” Riley says, taking my other hand and shooting me a grin. “We’ve got you.”
Before I can protest, Riley and Duy steer me onto the rink.
We merge with the throng of skaters who seem to have been training their whole lives for this moment.
Everyone is executing spins and leaps like they’re goddamn Olympic pros.
Meanwhile, I’m concentrating so hard on not falling down that I don’t even care what people think about the fact that I’m holding hands with two boys. I mean, one boy
and one Duy.
“You’re doing great!” Riley yells over the music.
Great is an overstatement, but I appreciate the encouragement. We circle the rink a couple of times, and after a few near stumbles,
I start to feel more confident. Though not as confident as Tala and Audrey, who are holding hands and weaving gracefully in
and out of the crowd. They’re really fast, or maybe I’m just embarrassingly slow, because they manage to lap us twice. On
their third approach, they slow down and separate. Tala skates over to Duy and links her arm around their free arm while Audrey
rolls alongside Riley and does the same with him.
“We thought we’d give you a hand!” Tala shouts.
“Literally!” Audrey adds.
From opposite ends of our human chain, Tala and Audrey begin to pull us all forward. Since we got onto the rink, Duy and Riley
have been so focused on keeping me upright that we haven’t had the chance to gain much momentum. With Tala and Audrey acting
like a pair of engines, though, we finally start to pick up speed. It’s both exhilarating and terrifying.
“You okay?” Riley asks, clocking my expression.
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
“You want to try skating on your own?” he asks, offering me an encouraging smile.
I’m a long way from becoming a skating prodigy, but I no longer feel like a complete idiot on wheels.
And with Olivia Newton-John belting what I can only assume is the climax of the song, the driving beat has me feeling oddly confident.
Maybe Duy’s right about its pop-musical greatness.
It certainly makes me feel like I could fly—or at least not fall.
Or maybe that’s just Riley and his friends.
“Okay, on the count of three,” Riley instructs the group. “One. Two. Three .”
Duy and Riley release my hands. The others fall back, and I push myself forward, uncertain and unsteady, but on my own two
feet.