Page 53 of Little Pieces of Light

Emery

“Emery.”

“Hm?” I blinked out of my thoughts, where I’d been in California, taking classes at UCLA and then coming home to the little apartment I shared with Xander…

My mother touched my arm. “We’re being seated now.”

The hostess smiled at our party, a pile of menus in her arms. “If you’ll please follow me.”

“Senator,” my dad said, gesturing. “After you.”

Mom, Dad, and I followed Charles Harrington, his wife Shar, and their son Colton through the elegant restaurant that overlooked the bay.

My father leaned into me. “I would like you to make Colton feel welcome tonight.”

I frowned. “How, exactly?”

“Listen attentively, don’t talk too much, and smile. This is an important dinner.”

“It is? Why?”

But he didn’t answer. We’d come to a round table in the corner of the restaurant. A prime location next to the tall, floor-to-ceiling windows that gave us a panoramic view. Black water glittered with lights from the boats sailing at night.

I smoothed my pink dress and sat down beside Colton, a pale, dark-haired, gray-eyed guy, a few inches taller than me, whose smug smirk seemed glued on.

If mansplaining were a facial expression…

“Well, this is just lovely, Grayson,” Charles Harrington said. He was tall, imposing, with a shock of gray hair. He turned to his wife. “Don’t you think so, Shar?”

“Newport is lovely, but I prefer DC.” Mrs. Harrington had dark brown eyes, and a fashionable streak of silver in her chestnut hair. She reached to touch my mother’s arm. “Cassandra, we must have you down to for a luncheon sometime.”

My mother smiled tightly and reached for the wine list. “We must.”

When Mom didn’t elaborate or engage in the small talk, Dad cleared his throat. “I understand you’re something of newlyweds.”

The senator covered his wife’s hand with his and chuckled. “Not quite but fairly new. Three years ago, now. We met at a fundraiser in DC. She’d just come back from France, and I snatched her up before she could fly off again.”

Mrs. Harrington shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sure they don’t want to hear our story, Charles.”

The waiter took our drink order—everyone had a cocktail or wine, while I had a Diet Coke. My mother had gone silent; I felt my father’s pointed stare to continue the conversation.

I turned to Colton beside me. “Did you go to Castle Hill Academy for high school?”

Six years ago?

Colton scoffed. “Definitely not. I attended Groton in Connecticut, then went on to Harvard, where I have graduate and postgraduate degrees in socioeconomics, information systems, and analytics.”

“Oh. Cool.”

Job done. I picked up my menu, perused the list of seafood dishes, and wished I was at the CHA party, dancing and celebrating with Xander. But immediately, I felt my dad’s glare on me again and so I put on a pretty smile for Colton.

“So, what do you do with all those degrees?”

He leaned back, sipping a gin and tonic. “Pragmatically speaking, I’m working on building another startup in the healthcare sector, but my real work is much more forward-thinking. Let me ask you a question, Emery. Do you know why our civilization is in danger of going extinct?”

“Global warming?”

“ Wrong ,” he said, relishing my wrongness. “The greatest existential threat to developed countries is underpopulation. Did you know that birthrates have plummeted over the last quarter century?”

“I did not know that,” I said into my soda.

“It’s true. The working class is aging out, and there are not enough younger workers to sustain the industry at its current levels.

I’m part of a global movement to save humanity.

We seek to restore population levels and increase the size of the American household, otherwise, we’re facing complete societal collapse. ”

“That sounds…bad.”

Shoot me now.

“Colton is very fervent about this subject, aren’t you, son?” Senator Harrington said proudly.

“Well, obviously, father,” Colton replied. “It’s imperative we act now before it’s too late.”

“And what did you have in mind?” My mother carefully raised her glass of wine to her lips. “How do we solve this ‘existential threat?’”

“Cassandra,” my dad intoned.

“I’m so glad you asked, Mrs. Wallace,” Colton said. “It will take a concerted effort to get our movement’s message out, but we can all do our part at home. I plan on marrying soon, for instance, and I expect my wife to bear me between six and eight children, at a minimum.”

“At a minimum?” I started to laugh and then saw he was serious. Worse, my dad was listening intently and nodding.

My smile collapsed, and I saw my mother’s eyes flare, then dart to me.

Her gaze caught and held, and then the conversation moved on to politics, business, and what Senator Harrington was going to do for Wallace Industries, and how much money Wallace Industries would donate to the senator’s PAC in return.

All of these coded deals and bribes relayed under niceties, nods, and knowing looks.

My dinner arrived—a perfectly grilled halibut—and I could hardly touch it. I itched to find my phone and check in with Xander.

He must be having a better time than I am.

The meal ended and while the parents perused dessert menus and aperitifs, Colton leaned into me.

“It’s a beautiful night out. Would you care to take a walk along the marina, Emery?”

I stiffened. “Oh, I’m fine, thanks.”

My father cleared his throat. “That’s a wonderful idea. You two go ahead, and we’ll order a lava cake for you, Emery.” He turned to the table. “It was her eighteenth birthday last week.”

Oh my fucking God…

Colton slid my chair back for me. I rose on stiff legs, taking my jacket and handbag with me.

We stepped out along the walk beside the dock.

Rocks abutted the water, which was fenced off with small wooden posts with iron chains strung between them.

The harbor was full of sailboats, their sails taken in, bobbing gently on the water.

Colton strolled beside me, his hands in his pockets. “Emery, I have to say, you are quite a lovely young woman.”

“Thank you. Your parents seem…nice,” I said, for lack of something better.

“Shar is my stepmother,” he said with a small sneer. “She claims she’s never previously married, no children. A pity, but now it’s too late.”

“Oh. Right.”

Gee, that’s not a creepy thing to say or anything.

Colton brightened. “I would very much like to see you again, Emery. Perhaps take you to dinner—”

“I think I hear my phone ringing. Vibrating, I mean, on silent. Let me just…”

I fished my phone out of my bag and turned my back on Colton.

I’d intended to call Xander or Harper to save me but stopped, shocked to see I had dozens of missed calls from Harper and twice as many texts from friends and people from school: Delilah, Sierra, Elowen…

all of them peppered with exclamation marks. I opened one at random from Delilah.

Where are you? OMG Did you hear??? Dean OD’d!

The blood drained from my face, and the phone in my hand began to shake. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real…

I hit call and Delilah answered immediately, sobbing over a backdrop of chaotic noise.

“Emery!” she cried. “Oh my God, it’s so terrible. Dean Yearwood. He overdosed at the Atlas party. I’m here now. It’s just madness. They think it was fentanyl, but I don’t know. I don’t know—”

“Wait, slow down,” I said, my heart pounding hard. “Dean OD’d? He’s okay, though, right? He’s okay?”

“No, he’s not okay, Em,” Delilah wailed. “He died. They just took him away in the ambulance in one of those black body bags…”

My vision blurred, and I staggered back. “Oh, no.”

Colton peeked his head into my line of vision. “Everything okay?”

I stared at him in shocked horror, unable to speak.

Xander.

“Delilah,” I cried, clutching the phone to my ear. “Where is Xander?”

“He was here. He tried to do CPR with Orion, but it was too late. I don’t know where he went.” She said something else, but it was lost in her sobs.

I hung up the phone and tried Xander. It went straight to voicemail. I tried Harper and got her message too. My parents and the Harringtons were suddenly there, everyone staring at me.

“Emery?” Mom rushed to me. “Are you all right?”

“I have to go. I have to…I have to go to school.”

My father frowned. “Now? What’s happened?”

“Dean’s dead,” I said, the words sounding obscene and wrong. “He’s dead and I have to go…”

Abruptly, my father ushered the Harringtons away; I could hear him making some sort of excuse for me, pleasantries and niceties, while I sank onto a bench.

“Mom…?”

She sat down beside me, taking my hand awkwardly. “Who is this boy, Dean?”

“He’s a friend. He’s Xander’s best friend.” I gripped her arms in a panic. “I have to get to Xander—”

“Shhh,” she said quickly and pulled me close as Dad rejoined us. I held on, the shock giving way and the tears flooding out.

“What on earth is going on?”

“We have to get her home. Now.” Mom pulled back to hold my face, her gaze piercing mine. “We’re going home now, okay?”

“Terrible end to an otherwise lovely evening,” my dad grumbled, while all I could think about was Xander, and Dean’s rowing crew, and the sweet kids from the Math & Physics Club—and his parents. Dean’s mother , getting the news tonight…

I cried in my own mother’s lap all the way home. Finally, alone in my room, I pulled myself together and tried Xander again. No answer. I tried Harper, and she picked up.

“Oh, Em, it’s fucking awful,” she cried.

“I’m so sorry, Harper,” I cried with her. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“No. I don’t know what to do or how to feel. Because I’m not supposed to have to feel this, you know? He’s not supposed to be gone . ”

“I know. I wish I had been there for you.”

“No, you don’t. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. And oh, God, Em. Xander…”

My heart dropped. “Tell me.”

“He was out of his mind. Drunk, I think, and so distraught. He kept saying he was going to kill Rhett. That Rhett’s a murderer. I don’t know what he saw or what he told the police but…God, I just can’t believe it.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“No, go to Xander, if you can. He’s in a bad way, Em. Real bad.”

“Where is he now?”

“Some guys from the crew took him home.”

“Okay, I’ll try to sneak out. And Harper.” Tears flooded my eyes. “I’m so sorry. I know you and Dean were close.”

“He was one of my best friends,” she said. “I just…I have to go.”

She hung up, and I wished I could split myself in two and be with her and Xander both. But getting out to see even one of them was going to be risky. I changed out of my pink dress and into jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt and hoodie.

I exited my room just as my mother came out of hers, as if she’d been waiting for me. Without a word, she walked down the stairs with me into the kitchen, where my father was making himself a cup of tea.

He looked me up and down. “Where are you going?”

“She’s going to see her friend,” Mom said.

“Harper,” I said faintly. “Dean was…very special to her.”

“What happened to this Dean? Wait, isn’t he the coxswain for Tucker’s crew?”

He was…

I nodded. “I have to go.”

To my shock, my mother threw her arms around me. “You drive safely and be back at a reasonable hour.”

I nodded and hurried out before my dad could say a word.

I drove as fast as I dared and got to Xander’s house just after eleven. My headlights splashed his front door. He was sitting on the stoop, head down, arms dangling off his knees.

I shut off the engine and hurried to him. “Xander…”

He looked up at me, the porch light casting shadows over his face.

Haggard, bloodshot, tear streaked. I sat beside him, put my arms around him, smelled the alcohol on his breath.

I would’ve given anything to make him stop hurting, but there was nothing that was going to make this better.

The world had shattered and become impossibly broken.

No amount of soft words was going to put it back together.

“Rhett killed him,” Xander said dully. “He gave him a pill, Dean took it, and it killed him. And I don’t think it was the first time, and I…I didn’t stop it. I got drunk, and I didn’t stop it…”

“Xander, it’s not your fault.”

He looked at me, confused. Incredulous. “It doesn’t make any fucking sense. Him ? Dean fucking Yearwood? He’s better than every single one of those fucking pretentious pricks—” He bit off his words and sucked in deep breaths.

“I know,” I said. “I know this is hard—”

“No, you don’t know,” he snapped, tearing off the porch and staggering a few steps away. “You don’t know because if you did know, you’d stay.”

I reared back. “What…?”

“You’re holding onto a lie, Emery,” he said. “A stupid idea that prom is going to fix anything.”

“My design is stupid?” I asked in a soft voice.

“No, your design is going to be extraordinary, but they’re too fucking stupid to see it. Don’t you get it? They don’t see you and you don’t see them. It’s like a selective hereditary blindness, running rampant in the Wallace DNA.”

“I know you’re hurting right now, Xander, but—”

“I’m just telling you the truth. The facts. Because facts and evidence are how we predict what will happen next. Not magical thinking. Not… hope .”

He’s drunk, that’s all, I thought. He’s drunk and he’s suffered a terrible loss.

I got to my feet while Xander turned his back to me, hands on his hips.

I approached him slowly, reached for his arm, then pulled at the lapel of his jacket.

One slight tug toward me, and a sob tore out of him.

He wrapped me in his arms, his body is shaking, I held him as best I could, my own tears soaking into his shirt.

He made fists in my hair and my sweatshirt, then abruptly staggered back.

He tore his glasses off with one hand and wiped his eyes in the crook of his arm.

“Do you know what he told me?” Xander said.

“The other day, Dean said, ‘Put your heart out in the world and see what happens.’ So I did. And this is what happened. I lost him. And my dad is really sick. I’m losing him too.

My mother and Dean and my father…” He looked up at me with tears in his eyes. “And you. Everybody I love…”

“No…”

“ Yes . You need to marry me so that you can leave me.” He snorted a terrible laugh. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

I shook my head, tears falling down my cheeks. “Xander, wait…”

“Please just go, Emery. I need to go to sleep and not feel or think about anything for a little while. I’m sorry…sorry.”

He staggered back into the house, and I stood for a long moment in the front yard, alone. Then I drove back home.