I say nothing.
“I really think you should go. You made a promise.”
“I didn’t promise Tristan anything.”
Mika shakes her head. “Not to Tristan…” she says. “To Sam.”
We look at each other. My last phone call with him. That’s what she’s referring to. We haven’t had much time to talk about it yet. I could tell Mika wanted to bring it up last night on our way to the fields, but we couldn’t find time to ourselves. When I don’t respond, Mika comes around the sofa and sits on the coffee table, facing me. She touches my hand. “Julie—I didn’t come here to check up on you, okay? I came to make sure you went to the festival.”
“Why do you want me to go so much?”
“Because Sam’s right. It would be good for you.”
Why does everyone think they know what’s good for me? What about what I think?
“I told you—I’m not in the mood,” I say again. I pull my blanket up and lay my head back down.
Mika kneels down beside me. “Julie, I know you’re having a tough time, and I know this is hard for you. But you need to show Sam you’ll be okay without him. You need to go to the festival. So I’m not leaving here until you do.”
I look into her eyes and see she’s serious. Of course she is. This is about Sam.
“And don’t forget, I punched someone for you,” Mika says. “On more than one occasion. You owe me a favor.”
I groan. Because she’s right. I do owe her. “Alright. I’ll go.”
A moment later, I’m in my room as Mika helps me get ready. It feels wrong to look through my closet for a dress to wear, so Mika picks one for me. The plain red dress I wore to my aunt’s wedding a few years ago. I stare at myself in the desk mirror as she stands behind me, straightening my hair. Neither of us says much. I’m not sure why I need to go to this festival to prove anything, but I decide not to question it. While I’m still upset that Mika’s forcing me to do this, watching her brings back some memories.
“Do you remember the last time you did my hair?” I ask.
“Of course I do. It was for that lame dance.”
“It was pretty lame.”
It was winter formal of junior year. I asked Sam to go this time. The theme was famous couples, but nobody dressed up, including us. A group of drunk seniors kept requesting remixes of country songs, so we left early. The only good memory I have was before the dance when Mika showed up with her makeup bag and curling wand, and pretended she was my fairy godmother. The three of us ended the night in my living room, eating pizza. Maybe it was a fun night after all, now that I’m remembering it again.
But I know tonight won’t end up like that. Because it’s all wrong. Sam isn’t here. I’ll be going out with someone else. I don’t understand why Mika is forcing me to do this. I stare at her in the mirror. “Why am I the only one who thinks this is weird?” I finally ask.
“You’re not the only one,” she says without looking at me. “I think it’s weird, too.”
“Then why are you making me do this?”
Mika runs a brush through my hair. “Because Sam asked for this. It isn’t often we get requests from people who’ve passed away, you know? I think it’s important to honor it, if we can.”
I never thought of it this way. Maybe because I don’t like to think of Sam as dead. The word alone sends chills through me. I don’t know how Mika speaks about it so easily. I think back to Sam’s picture on her living room cupboard. “Is that a cultural thing? Always honoring the dead like that, I mean.”
“You could say that,” she says. “It’s also a family thing. A cousin thing. I mean, if you could do one last thing for him, why wouldn’t you?”
“I suppose…”
“But I get it,” she says, setting the brush down. “It’s a strange request. Especially for you. But it’s also a small one. I don’t think he’s asking for too much.”
I think about this. “I guess you’re right.”
Mika looks at me in the mirror, moving my hair behind my ears. “And after last night, I think you need to do this for yourself.” I drop my gaze, unable to meet her eyes. “You can’t hold on to Sam forever, Julie,” she whispers. “You have to let him move on, too. This isn’t good for you. And I don’t know if it’s good for him, either.”
Once Mika finishes up my hair, I check my phone. It’s a quarter to seven. If I don’t leave the house right now, I might miss Tristan’s screening entirely. Mika helps me get dressed, and we hurry downstairs.