Towering

and the girls wore white dresses too.”
    She gestured to her own dress, which was white and lacy. “Like this one?”
    “Exactly. If I’d taken you to that dance, you could have worn that.”
    In fact, that dance had been last winter, a few weeks after the New Year’s Eve when Nikki and I had kissed. I had thought about asking her, even though she’d said no to me before. But I’d chickened out. I couldn’t tell if it was better that I hadn’t asked her. Would it have changed anything if I had? Would it have been like one of those time-travel movies, where every different decision upset the space-time continuum, changed the future just a little bit? Would Nikki be alive today if I’d gone?
    I couldn’t think about it. I said, “I’d pick you up at your door, and I’d want to say, ‘You look so beautiful,’ but I wouldn’t say it.”
    “Why not?”
    “I’d be scared silent, in awe of you, that you would even go out with me. It would make me shy.”
    She nodded. “That answer is acceptable.”
    “But I’d help you on with your coat. My mom would tell me to. We’d walk out to the car together.”
    “Would you hold my hand?”
    “Of course.” I took hers now. “I’d use the ice as an excuse, to keep you from slipping as I walked you to your car.”
    “You wouldn’t need an excuse.” She squeezed mine.
    “I know.” She was so sweet, and I wanted to make her happy. She’d had so little happiness. I realized now that my life—all of it, even the bad things—was a gift. It hadn’t been perfect, but it was my life. Mine, and I’d lived it.
    Bolder now, I said, “We’d go inside, and everyone would stare at me, at us, wondering how I got you to agree to go with me when you’re so beautiful.”
    She smiled. “How did you?”
    “I asked. None of the other guys did. They were intimidated, afraid to. But me, I was just so stupid. I just asked you, and you figured it was better to go with me than to sit home and cry from loneliness.”
    I gave her a goofy look, and she giggled. “Oh, I am sure I found you attractive—in a funny sort of way.”
    “So before you could realize your mistake and dance with someone else, I’d lead you onto the dance floor. The band would be playing . . .” I realized I had my phone. I scrolled through the play-lists. The first slow one I saw was “I Will Follow You into the Dark,” which was a guy saying he’d go with his girlfriend if she died. Morbid, much? I wished I had some classic songs like “Unchained Melody” or “When a Man Loves a Woman,” but I didn’t have those. I’d never been the kind of guy to download songs girls liked. Finally, I found “The Only Exception” by Paramore. I’d liked them at one point. There was no speaker, of course, so I turned up the sound on my phone as loud as it would go. Rachel was right. It was quiet here, and she could hear it. The voice started coming out of that tiny speaker. I held it to Rachel’s ear. “They’d be playing this, and I’d lead you out onto the floor.”
    I stood. Rachel did too, and I put one arm around her, swaying to the music. The song was a little depressing too, about someone who didn’t believe in love, but I liked the chorus, where it said:
    Darling, you are the only exception
    You are the only exception .
    Because that was how I felt about Rachel, exactly how I felt. The song was about me, keeping my distance, not taking chances with people because I was afraid. But Rachel was different. Rachel was worth the risk, any risk. The only exception.
    I tightened my grip on her.
    “This is so nice,” she said. “I’ve never danced with anyone before. Would you try to kiss me on the dance floor?”
    “I would try. Would you let me?”
    She leaned in toward me and whispered, “I might.”
    You are the only exception .
    “I bet I would then,” I said.
    And then, we were kissing, kissing and holding each other, the music in our ears, as we sank slowly to the stone floor.

Rachel
    I had expected Wyatt to try, again, to persuade me to go with him. I had thought of nothing else since he left. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps my destiny was not here, in the tower, waiting. Maybe I was meant to go with him. I had decided that, if he asked me again, I would hear him out.
    Which was why I was quite surprised when he said, “I think you’re right that you should stay here at least a little longer.”
    I reached to brush a lock of hair from over his eye. “Really? Why? This is