by Kerry Sparks
***
Finally, we arrived at the dance. I thought we’d never get there. The gym was decorated beautifully. The dance committee really did a great job turning the gym into a winter wonderland. Francesca Clearwater sprayed some fake snow on the artificial Christmas trees at the entrance.
“Hey Francesca! Great decorations,” I complimented.
She gave me a weak smile. She was probably exhausted. I know she worked on the decorations for weeks. She had the reputation of being Little Miss Perfect since fifth grade, and she seemed to take pride in her title.
“Who’s your date?” Lindy asked her.
Francesca glared at her.
“Santa Claus,” I whispered in Lindy’s ear.
Lindy giggled. We ran off before we were frozen into statues by Francesca’s cold look.
“Whoa! Check out those two hotties over there!” Lindy said, elbowing me.
I started laughing hysterically. Lindy wasn’t wearing her glasses.
“Lindy, those are our dates,” I said when I regained my composure.
“Oh…well…lucky us!” she said.
“Hello ladies,” greeted Scott, “You look pretty.”
“Thanks,” I said, fluffing my curled hair with my fingers.
“Lindy, you look…amazing!” said Scott, “If I would’ve known you cleaned up like this…”
My jaw dropped. Did he really just say that? No way! I imagined that. Scott Parker did not just say that to Lindy.
Lindy blushed, though I’m not sure if she really blushed or if it was just her hot pink blush.
“Thanks,” she said, “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
Tom and I looked at each other like, what is going on here? I decided to play their game.
“You look fabulous Tom,” I cooed.
“You too. Love your dress,” he complimented.
Scott was still checking out Lindy, and Lindy was now batting her false eyelashes faster than a butterfly’s wings caught in a spider web.
“I love your eyelashes,” said Scott.
“Fake,” I coughed.
“What did you say Jen?” he asked.
“Um…I said drink. I need a drink. Tom, do you want to get some punch with me?”
“Sure,” he said.
We went over to the punch bowl. Francesca was behind the bowl. She wore a cute white halter dress, and her hair sat on top of her head in an elegant bun. She looked like a swan, and it was a shame the swan didn’t have a date. What a waste of a cute dress!
Francesca served me a glass of punch and then poured Tom’s drink.
“Thank you,” I said.
She simply nodded.
“Thank you,” said Tom.
“I do take tips,” she teased.
I laughed. I fetched a dollar out of my purse. My mother had given me a few dollars just in case the refreshments cost money. I handed her a dollar.
“I was only kidding,” she said.
“I know, but you earned it,” I said.
What can I say? I was feeling charitable. She smiled and thanked me.
We turned around, and there they were…our dates, dancing in circles to the tune of some slow song. I don’t know what song it was. I just heard, “Baby this and baby that”. I grabbed Tom by his suit jacket and dragged him to the bleachers. We sat down, or I pulled him down rather.
“What just happened here?” I demanded.
“I think we just lost our dates,” he said.
“This totally stinks,” I said.
I wanted to cry. Why didn’t Scott want to dance with me? I guess I didn’t put enough makeup on. So this is what you get for being yourself huh? Sitting on the bleachers like a total loser sitting next to a… a total babe! Why didn’t I notice it before? Well, I knew Tom was kind of cute, but I guess I didn’t get to see him this close up before. Tom’s brown hair was styled absolutely perfect. He had good hair. It was thick, and it had a slight wave to it. His eyes were brown with little flecks of gold in them. I guess that would be hazel. He wore a black suit, white shirt, black dress pants and a skinny, shiny black tie. He looked like a movie star!
“It’s not so bad,” he said with a shrug, “I’d rather dance with you.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Definitely. Lindy’s got way too much makeup on. I don’t like it when girls wear a lot of
makeup,” he said.
“You don’t?” I asked.
“Nope.”
Suddenly, I didn’t feel like a total loser any more. I didn’t feel like crying any more either. I wanted to dance.
“You want to dance?” I asked.
“That’s why we’re here right?” he asked.
I smiled. Tom was clearly the better date. He was laid back, sweet and so cute! I looked into his brown eyes. I melted like chocolate fondue. Someone pass the strawberries please!
We danced for about half of a slow song then a fast song came on, and Tom started clowning around. He pretended like he was surfing because it was a song about the ocean. He made me laugh. I totally forgot about Scott. Then another slow song came on, and Tom grabbed me and pulled me close.
“I like the slow songs the best,” he said.
“Me too,” I said.
Someone tapped Tom on the shoulder.
“Can I cut in?” Scott asked.
“It’s up to her,” said Tom.
“No,” I said firmly.
“Just for a minute,” he pleaded.
“No!” I repeated.
“I just want to talk to you for a minute,” he said.
“Fine,” I said, “I’m timing you.”
I didn’t know how exactly I was going to time Scott. I wasn’t wearing a watch. But Scott was on borrowed time, and I was not in the mood for his dumb baby games. Scott held my hand, and we spun in circles. I felt dizzy. I wanted to puke. He was such a jerk. I thought he liked me.
“I just want to say that I’m sorry about what happened. I do like you. I just think Lindy is more my type,” he said.
“That’s perfectly fine because Tom is more of my type,” I retaliated.
Scott laughed. It was a very annoying laugh because I was so mad at him.
“Are you serious?” he asked.
“Totally,” I said, glaring at him.
“More than me?” he asked.
Hmm…was someone getting jealous? Serves him right.
“I’m done with this dance,” I said, pulling away from him.
I let go of Scott and went looking for Tom. He was on the bleachers. I grabbed his hand.
“Where were we?” I asked.
Tom grinned.
“Sorry dude,” he said to Scott.
***
Lindy’s mom came and got us.
“Are you mad at me?” asked Lindy.
“Not really,” I said, “I know you liked Scott better than Tom so things worked out for the best. You got Scott. I got Tom.”
“I don’t know if I have Scott or not. Scott is really jealous of Tom. He barely paid attention to me,” said Lindy.
“Well, if you need to find someone new just let me know. We’ll go looking first thing Monday. Maybe Scott isn’t right for either of us,” I said.
“What kind of dance was this? Sounds like an episode of Drama Middle School.” Lindy’s mom chimed in.
Lindy rolled her eyes.
“Just drive Mom,” she said.
I lowered my voice. Parents could be so nosy sometimes.
“I bet Tom has a friend. Maybe he…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lindy interrupted, “I’m not worried about it. I’m not going to let Scott bother me. I’d rather worry about the fashion show.”
“Omigosh! We are so going to win. I can just feel it! Our outfit rocks!” I squealed.
“Yes, I would totally wear it,” said Lindy.
Lindy’s mom pulled the car into my driveway.
“Thanks for the ride Mrs.
Masters. Bye Lindy. Love ya girl!” I said.
“Love you too!” said Lindy.
I smiled then I frowned. I didn’t get a kiss from cutie pie Tom Bronson. Oh well. Maybe next time.