Authors: Stephanie Pokorney
NINE
“Your 2012 Prom Queen is – Saige Callaway!”
My dress swings softly at my hips as I climb the steps onto the stage. My fellow classmates are clapping and whistling, making me feel like I just won the biggest award anyone could imagine.
My English teacher smiles at me, pinning the crown to my blond curls.
“Congratulations, Saige” she says, hugging me.
Below me, I find my brothers and Melanie applauding the loudest in the crowd.
“You look great, girl!” I hear someone call.
“You deserve it!” yelled another.
My smile made my cheeks hurt, but I couldn’t stop. The crowd died down as the Principal approached me, holding a microphone.
“We don’t really let queens make speeches,” Mr. Sarge informs, “but this is a special occasion.” He hands the microphone to me, awaiting my long overdue speech.
I had originally planned a long speech. But now that I’m front of everyone, looking out at their smiling faces, I knew I didn’t have to say anything.
Bruno had won honorary prom king the day before. Our class took a silent vote and decided no one deserved it more than he did. I thought about declining. Bruno wouldn’t have wanted to win under bad pretenses. People usually just vote for someone because they feel sorry that someone is dead; almost like they feel guilty for living. But the changes that have taken place after Bruno’s death weren’t because Bruno died. They were because Bruno lived. The changes my classmates had made in their everyday life were because of what Bruno said to make them think. He changed the way they viewed life. The kids that once sat in the corner hating the world are now the first ones on the dance floor loving every minute of it. The guys that once didn’t get tied to one girl and slept around are now the ones in the most serious relationships. Our High School wasn’t as cliquey the way it used to be. It wasn’t because people just shut up and pretending to get along. They really respected each other and seemed to really find the beauty in one another. It sound’s cliché to say that we learned to stop and smell the roses once Bruno passed, but really, that’s what it was. Life is beautiful. I think we all know that deep down, but it takes some like Bruno to make you really realize it.
“You’re all beautiful,” I say, followed by: “This one’s for Bruno.”
My class goes crazy as a banner drops to the right of the auditorium. Completely covering one wall is a collage of words and pictures. It’s crazy the way each thing is so beautiful separately, but somehow joins together to form an even more beautiful picture. It’s absolutely stunning.
It turns out my brothers have been working on this without me knowing ever since my dad held our family meeting about Bruno’s cancer returning. The project was announced at the fundraiser. Every single student had written or drew something they thought was beautiful. There were typical things like roses, sunsets and big Willow trees; and even not so typical things like rainstorms, burnt cookies, and broken vases. At the top, written in bright red paint, were the words “LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL.” Written directly below, in a slightly smaller printer, was “In remembrance of Bruno Castino – who always knew and appreciated just how beautiful life is.”
Melanie’s voice is in my ear, her hand around my waist. “It’s gorgeous,” she says.
“It’s amazing,” says Sam.
“It’s out of this world,” says Kevin and Kyle in unison.
“It’s beautiful,” I say.
The music starts up and the crowd disperses around the room. I dance with Melanie and other girls from the cheer squad that I had recently become closer with again.
Between songs, Tim finds me lingering around the snack table. Melanie told me a couple days ago while we were getting our hair done that she had heard Tim was taking Adrian. She wanted to make sure I was going to be okay with it. I hadn’t thought about Tim since that day in the mall. It seemed so long ago. I really wished the best for him and Adrian. I’m not just saying that either, everyone deserves to be happy and to love and be loved in return.
“I’m sorry about Bruno,” he says, filling a cup with punch. He hates punch.
“Thank you,” I say, taking a small cupcake and stuffing it in my mouth. I hate cupcakes.
He pours the punch back into the bowl. I spit the cupcake out into a napkin.
“I knew you loved him, Saige,” he says, looking into my eyes for the first time in two years.
“You knew?” My voice is weak.
“I knew when you knew, even if you didn’t want to know. I saw the way you looked at him, even if you tried to tell yourself that you were looking past him. I knew Saige, but I didn’t want to know. I wanted to keep pretending that you loved me and we were supposed to be together. Bruno taught me things, too, ya know. You can pretend for a long time but you can’t pretend for forever. And when you stop pretending, that’s when life’s truly beautiful.”
Adrian rounds the corner, heading for the snack table. She is stopped by Melanie and two other girls on the cheer squad. Adrian is smiling so I’m sure they’re talking about something of interest to her. Probably about her trip to Paris she’s been bragging about since Valentine’s Day.
“Adrian’s coming,” I point out to Tim.
He glances over his shoulder, not bothering to really look.
“I know I’m not the one for you,” he continues, “and I know you think Bruno was. I don’t have a right to say anything, but I will anyway. Love is forever. Everyone lives their life in search of only one person to love forever. But our hearts are so big they were meant for loving more than one. You don’t just have one love per lifetime, Saige. You’ll love again. You’ll love yourself to death. Then, after you die, you’ll be the most happy in the most beautiful place because you’ll have every single person and every single thing you’ve ever loved in your whole entire life.”
I stare into his blue eyes. They look sad and happy at the same time.
“I’ll always love you, Saige, just like you’ll always love Bruno. Love doesn’t have a limit. Love is forever and love is a lot.”
Adrian appears beside him. A smile is forever plastered on her face. For the first time I really look at her. Her hair is darker than it was in the fall. Maybe life finally decided she was meant to have brown hair after all. Her freckles are covered by pounds of makeup, but her eyes can’t cover up her inner soul. She’s pretending, too. I can tell. One day she’ll stop pretending, just like I did. Then she’ll really be happy. I make a mental note to speak with her in private later, offering a friendly ear if she ever needed it. Tim and Adrian turn, heading back to the dance floor. Tim doesn’t look back. He doesn’t have to. I’ll forever be in his heart, the way Bruno will always be in mine.
I had graduated High School the day before. The Elementary had let out the week before. Mrs. Castino really had her hands full with the always- energetic Alex, so I offered to take him off her hands for a couple hours. She graciously accepted, knowing I’d always made sure to stop by as often as I could to play truck’s with Alex.
For a six year old, he had been handling Bruno’s death pretty well. I thought he wouldn’t understand that Bruno wasn’t going to be around anymore, but he took us by surprise when he didn’t act out after Bruno’s passing.
“Hey, A,” I venture cautiously, “Why don’t you ever mention Bruno anymore?”
I had pulled into mine and Bruno’s spot. The shorts clung to the back of my legs from the humid heat as I opened Alex’s door.
After throwing his head around in all directions, he declares this spot “beautiful.”
“A, you never answered me,” I remind him, impatiently wanting an answer to the question we’ve all longed to ask.
“What do you mean why don’t I mention him? Why would I mention him when he’s right here?” Alex’s little finger, covered in the chocolate ice-cream I had just bought him, pointed firmly to his chest.
My heart aches. “In your heart?” I whimper.
“Yes. Bruno told me that that’s where people go when you love them, and that’s where they always stay. It doesn’t matter where they are, because a piece of them is always in your heart. And I make sure to always have my heart with me!” He kneels on the dirt, pushing the truck Bruno had gotten him through the grass.
I watch him play as I sit on the grassy hilltop. I pick the wild flowers that grow, and peel them apart, throwing their shreds in the wind. “I’m spreading the beautiful for you, Bruno” I say.
Alex catches my words even though they weren’t meant for him. He stops playing and comes to sit beside me. “Bruno said you love flowers.”
“That was you? You planted the garden?” The pile of dirt in my backyard turned out to be a beautiful garden of different flowers. They had bloomed right after prom. I always thought my mom had planted them because she waters them as much as she feeds us and protects them like she protects us.
“Yes. Me and Bruno, we dug holes in dirt and planted seeds. He said they’d grow to be beautiful like you. He said you’d love them like he loved you.”
I stare down at Alex’s curls. He hadn’t got his hair cut for summer yet, so they were longer than normal. I tussle his hair with my fingers, bringing him in for a hug. “They’re more than beautiful,” I say, “and I love them bunches.”
Arranging the normal sized photos of Bruno and I so they’d fit neatly into a picture frame was hard, but arranging the smaller ones Alex had took were even harder. I call my mother into my room for help.
“I know, Mom, but I’ll only be gone a month. You won’t even know I’m gone. Besides, I’m doing good in the world. I’m making it even more beautiful.”
Without waiting, they continue to yell. “What’s for dinner?” “Does Saige get to pick the restaurant for her good-bye dinner?” “How come last week I didn’t get a good-bye meal when I went to Jared’s?” “That’s because you were down the block, Saige is going to Italy.” “Same concept.” “MOM! Can we have a snack before we go to dinner?”
My mom starts answering their questions, one by one, demanding dirty gym clothes be thrown in the hamper and no shoes on the couch. I shake my head. Some things never change.
Tomorrow my plane will take me to Italy. I made plans to work with an orphanage/hospital who is always in desperate need of volunteers. I’m only staying for 30 days, but I’m already making plans to come back as often as I can. I want to work with children that are Alex’s age and maybe people that have the same illness Bruno did. I’m not really too picky about who I work with or what I do, though; everyone likes a little more beauty in their life.
All of my belongings are packed. I am zipping up my last bag, biting my lip trying to get it to close without ripping, and I notice the pink book on my shelf. Since finding Bruno’s book of my favorite hand written poems, I’ve probably read it a million times. I usually keep it under my pillow, and I swear I had packed it, yet there it sits.
I take it off the bookshelf, deciding it belongs in my purse anyway. Out of habit, I flip through the pages. The last page is always “How Do I Love Thee”, but today, the page weighs heavy on my fingertips. I rub against my thumb and pointer finger, and a separate page emerges.
“Oh my gosh,” I whisper, pulling the two pages apart to find a letter written to me from Bruno.
It read:
Amore Vinci Omnia means love conquers all.