Time Lifts the Light

Apparently, being his Homecoming date didn't prompt D.B. to act any different toward me. He still teased me about following the dress code, still drew inappropriate cartoons on the front covers of my textbooks without my knowledge or permission, still stole the apple from my lunch every day without fail, and still made funny faces at me from across the classroom while we were supposed to be listening.

It gave me the distinct feeling that this... this date didn't mean anything. And I was slightly surprised to find that I found that fact unsettling. Of course, I shouldn't have expected anything more - he was D.B., after all. He was still the goofy, secretive guy who had the astounding ability to make an entire room of people feel extremely uncomfortable with a few choice words. (These choice words usually included the lyrics of "Save Ginny Weasley" by Harry and the Potters sung in a trembling, high-strung falsetto.)

The week passed normally. Mikey teased me constantly ("Why? Have you seen him dance? How much'ya wanna bet that he comes dressed like Luke Skywalker again, like Freshman year?") and even Kim got her digs in. Mostly, she just bugged me about what I was going to wear, though.

Apparently, the trio had managed to get kicked out of the Homecoming dance every singe year. Freshman year, they'd stolen the decoration order forms and changed "A Night With The Stars" to "A Night With Star Wars." It was a brilliant plan, really. They wouldn't have gotten caught if they hadn't shown up in costume.

Last year, they hadn't planned anything. They were thrown out when, spontaneously, Mikey decided to spike the punch -- with milk. ("People were gagging everywhere and everything! There was this one girl - lactose intolerant - she ralphed! So awesome.")

But this year, finally, they all agreed to have a normal night. They would be watched very heavily by the faculty, anyway, so there wasn't much of a chance of getting away with anything.

It was Friday and, the entire week, Kim had been complaining about her distinct lack of a Homecoming dress. I had continued to agree with her complaints, mostly to keep her from being angry at me. Truthfully, I didn't pay her much attention - I was mainly focused on the comforting weight of D.B.'s watch in my pocket. I'd taken to bringing it to school with me again. That day, during lunch, Kim decisively set down her water bottle and took a deep breath.

"This weekend we are going shopping. No, shut up! No protestations allowed, boys. Can you pick us all up on Saturday, D.B.?"
"Yeah..." he sighed. "I guess if I have to."
"Good," she replied smartly. "First, we'll get Mikey's hair cut and then we'll look for dresses at that - "
"What?" Mikey blanched.
Kim widened her eyes and leaned toward him slightly. "But... Michael... You said yourself that you needed a haircut..."
"Y-Yeah, okay," Mikey murmured, looking forlorn.

Kim straightened, looking considerably brighter. "All set, then!"

Saturday arrived and, bright and early, my phone rang. I picked up and was met with Kim's voice.

"Shut up, the two of you! I'm calling Indigo!"
"Kim?" I asked.
"Are you blind? Ouch, Mikey, stop clinging on to me. What is wrong with you today, D.B.?"
"I'm driving like I always do!"
"You're on the wrong side of the road!"
"Hello?"
"Indy! Hey! Okay, get ready. We'll be there in... oh my god, D.B.! Watch the speed bumps! Uh... don't hit that deer! I don't know, fifteen minutes, okay?"
"Sounds alright."

As she hung up, I could hear the sound of Mikey chanting, "We're going to die, we're going to die, we're going to die."

I agonized briefly about what to wear. I always felt as if I had something to prove when I went out with the trio. They teased me so often about my strict decision to follow the dress code that I felt the urge to impress them with my normal clothes. I dug through my closet until I came upon my new pair of black skinny jeans. I flushed briefly, knowing that I would have never purchased them if I hadn't met Mikey, Kim, and D.B. The top was a different matter. If I paired it with something flow-y, I'd end up looking just as preppy as I did in my uniform. I pulled on a v-necked sweater, neglecting a tank top. If I turned just the right way, the side slipped down and revealed a black bra strap. I blinked. I looked like Kim.

Pulling the sweater off, I pressed my knuckle into my forehead. Then, at the back of my closet, something caught my eye - A blue button down. I pulled it off the hanger, feeling the old, softened material between my fingers. My grandmother had given to to me in the fifth grade, having embroidered an apple on the down-turned collar. At the time, the shirt had been hideously huge and I remembered being hopelessly embarrassed of it.

But now, I thought as I pulled it on. It wasn't so huge!

It fit me considerably better now then it had when I was eleven, sitting snugly on my frame. I looked in the mirror, experimentally rolling up the sleeves. I looked... vintage. Confident. An effortless cool, almost.

I heard the doorbell ring and snatched my sneakers from the side of my bed before dashing downstairs. Kim smiled as she saw me, literally bouncing with anticipation. In the car, Mikey gave me a few rather haphazard compliments and I caught D.B. looking at me from the corner of his eye.

"You look different Indigo," Mikey told me, speaking around the lollipop in his mouth. "You look good."
"Thanks Mikey," I said dryly. D.B. snorted in laughter.
"No! I mean - not that you don't look good on a normal basis."

Terrific Clips! was in the same shopping center as Madam Malkin's, the place where Kim wanted to look for dresses, so Mikey was forced inside. It smelled of hair gel and shampoo, the sunlight washing everything in a bright orange-ish glow. The walls were lined with mirrors and chairs. A young boy with dreadlocks was sweeping up the bits of hair on the floor.

"You've got the watch again, haven't you?" D.B. asked me quietly as we sat in the waiting area. Mikey wrote his name down on the appointment list and joined us, looking slightly angry.

I started. "Wha - No!"
He gave me an amused grin and turned to pick up a parenting magazine idly.
"Okay," I sighed, resigned. "It's just - I've been thinking about it a lot lately."
D.B. suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Okay. And?"
"Well..." I cast a glance at Kim, who wasn't listening at all. She was concentrated on talking Mikey out of a mohawk. I lowered my voice to a tense whisper. "D.B., I haven't told you this... but when you - you..."
"Traveled?" D.B. offered.
"When you traveled into my room, you crawled up into my bed," I blurted.

A pregnant pause. He kept the same pained look on his face. "I figured as much."
"You... You seemed to think that we were - um..."
"It's best not to think about it, Indy," he said, chewing on his lip. "The future... You shouldn't think about... You're not supposed to know what's going to happen."

I nodded, my throat tight. I tried in vain to take D.B.'s words to heart... But I couldn't help it. Sometime between today and December fourth, D.B. and I were going to become close. Very close. Close enough for him to think it was acceptable to cuddle with me in the middle of the night.

"Michael Douglas?"

Mikey's head shot up. A short black woman was smiling warmly at him, gesturing for him to come sit in a plastic-covered chair. He followed, running his hands through his light brown hair, as if to say goodbye.

I was suddenly very aware of the weight of the watch in my pocket. This time, instead of being comforted, I was distracted by it. D.B. was pretending to be interested in an article about father-son bonding.

I wondered randomly about his invitation to Homecoming. Was he only blindly following his set path? Did he even want to go with me, or was this just... fulfilling the future?