Prom Impossible
Page 14
Yeah, I was pretty much dead.
***
I thought my life was over, but Jasper kept all his rage hidden inside. I could tell by the way he walked, how tightly he held my hand, and the scowl when he thought no one was looking. He might have had everyone else fooled, but not me.
As usual, Jasper patted the seat next to him at the table. Underlying his smile, his face was pale, and a coldness had settled in his eyes. If I wasn’t so hot, I would’ve shivered under his glare. The girls flashed their jealous looks as they picked at their lunches and I didn’t eat anything.
“You nervous?” Jasper whispered.
He must have been listening to Mr. Troller the day he talked about hiding meanings in our papers that only some readers would get. In this case, I was the reader and I knew exactly what he meant. So, of course, I babbled.
“Well, I am dressed as a heart, the only one dressed as a heart, so a part of me has been on edge all day. This is nothing like wearing a puffy scarf with bright colors. Jules can get away with that but for some reason I can’t wear scarves. They make me nervous, so yeah, you could say I’m a bit nervous, and then there’s the pop quiz I heard we might be having in math—”
Jules tapped me on the shoulder. “You’re up.”
“Now?” I squeaked.
She pulled me aside, biting her lip, and squeezing my hand. “Listen, I’m so grateful. I’ve been thinking. You don’t have to do this for me. I know the speech is a little corny.” She fell silent for a moment. When she looked back up, she was blinking back tears. “You’ve already done enough.”
Somehow I think she was talking about more than just today.
I glanced past her at Jasper with his cocky smile. I couldn’t believe I once thought he was cute. I couldn’t believe I thought he could get away with rolling up his khakis and wearing moccasins, because he so couldn’t. I couldn’t believe I swooned over him in the bathroom. It was like he felt my stare as he turned his head and winked at me. There were a thousand words in that one wink, and I didn’t like any of them.
“No.” I cut Jules off. “I’ll do it. I said I would, and I will because that’s the kind of person I am.”
“Okay. I’ll owe you one.” She handed me my script and backed off to find a seat.
Across the cafeteria, Jules had set up a small stage with a microphone. I looked at the blurred words on the page, then strode across the room, followed by whispers and laughter.
I tapped the microphone. “Testing!” It squeaked and then my voice came through, booming. All the students cringed. “Oops. Sorry.”
I studied all my classmates, while trying to muster up some spit so I could talk. Some I’d known since elementary school, some I’d befriended in the past couple years, and others I barely knew. But we all had something in common. We were all seniors, and we all wanted this to be a memorable year. That was it. I knew what to say even though it was nothing like the script Jules had written for me, because without a prince, it wouldn’t work even though she’d crossed out some lines and written in other ones.
I leaned into the microphone. “You might be wondering why I’m wearing this big puffy heart costume. To tell you the truth, I am too.” I took a few moments and breathed in, clearing away all the distractions. “This wasn’t what was planned. I wasn’t supposed to be the only one dressed like this. In fact, I wasn’t supposed to be a heart at all. I was supposed to be a beautiful princess.”
Several boys scoffed and muttered comments. I ignored them.
“But fate has a way of stepping in. And sometimes deep down, we don’t want to be princesses but we want to be a heart, filled with blood pumping through our arteries and veins. We want to be alive. Without our hearts we’d be nothing, just zombies walking through the halls…”
I lost my train of thought and had the feeling I was messing this up and mixing metaphors. I was losing my audience. Many of them had gone back to eating and chatting with their neighbors. Jules waves frantically from the back and pointed to the sheet of paper.
Feeling a little dizzy and wanting the floor to crack open and swallow me, I lifted the paper and started reading. Something about needing my prince when the cafeteria door crashed open and I heard the strums of a guitar.
A collective gasp came from everyone, and I almost cried when Carter walked through the door with his guitar hanging off his shoulder by a strap. He was strumming and humming and everyone was enthralled. But most importantly, their eyes were off me.
He shuffled over and stood next to me. I moved the microphone over. He started singing a Taylor Swift song, and I almost laughed and cried at the same time. But then everyone pointed.
I peered around Carter, who kept singing, at Zeke who pushed his way through the narrow doorway, with a crinkle and a bit of a red face. His red heart billowed around him in puffs of red and velvet and a trail of glitter. A crown sat on top of his head—my prince.
I blinked and blinked, and my throat got so choked up I couldn’t say a thing, which is unusual for me, as Zeke waddled over. Is that what I’d looked like all day?
He held out his hand. “Would the princess like this dance?”
I couldn’t say a word, just nodded. He led me over to the side and put his arm around me and held my other hand, as sweaty as it was, in the waltz position. Our puffy bellies bumped into each other, knocking off even more glitter.
He smiled, oblivious to the open-mouthed stares we were getting. “Just follow my lead.”
In the next few moments, while Carter’s husky voice quieted the crowds, Zeke twirled me around and we danced as only two hearts could, side by side. It was the most romantic and embarrassing thing I’d ever done.
“Don’t worry about what anyone thinks. You look great,” he whispered, as if he could read my thoughts. “Would you go to the Valentine’s dance with me?”
What? I stumbled out a few words.
“I know it’s late. I should’ve asked earlier.”
All I could manage was one word. “Ava.”
He huffed. “Ava?”
“That day. In store.” Why couldn’t I speak in full sentences?
“Oh, right. I never asked her. She took something I said and jumped on it. So…”
I wanted to say yes, but as the guitar got louder and approached the final chorus, kids started singing, so we could no longer whisper. At the end, when Zeke dipped me low to the tiled floor, everyone stood and clapped and cheered.
I had a real date to the dance.
I just had to say yes.
Chapter 23
I don’t think I’ll ever understand guys and how their brains work. It’s a mystery and one I hope to grasp by the time I’m eighty with white hair and my teeth falling out. Here’s what would happen in normal situations: girl pisses off her kinda-sorta-boyfriend and kinda-sorta-boyfriend breaks up with the girl.
In real life. In normal situations that’s what should happen. There have to be some scientific laws out there about push and pull or action and reaction that would verify this.
I fully expected, in fact was a little relieved, that Jasper would be breaking off his kinda-sorta-relationship with me. He’d brush me off like cookie crumbs on his favorite shirt, and I could go back to my quiet existence.
Except that’s not what happened. That afternoon in the cafeteria on the day of the Valentine’s Dance, after Carter finished his song, after the two puffy hearts finished their awkward dance, and after the crowds finished cheering, Jasper strode to the front of the microphone, or more like grabbed it from Carter.
With a lazy grin to charm the crowds, he used his official I’m-the-popular-one-here-and-don’t-forget-it voice and officially asked me to the Valentine’s dance. Everyone oohed and sighed and well, what was I supposed to say?
For a brief second, which felt like an eternity with my past, present, and future all tied up in this moment, I looked between Zeke and Jasper.
Jasper held his arms out to me while the crowds starte
d clapping in rhythm. Now, I’ll admit I was the one who got myself in this situation to make Michael jealous. But I’m not sure that had worked at all up to this point, as he was currently hanging all over Elena, probably relieved it wasn’t him up there with me.
Zeke knew me. He knew I rambled when I was nervous. He knew I was horrified about walking around like a poofy heart all day. He knew what I needed and when, and I’d been pushing him away all year.
Jasper leaned toward me. “This isn’t optional.”
That was all he had to say. I’d better play along with his little act, or my academic and social act would be over. I wanted to say no to Jasper and go to the dance with Zeke, but I didn’t really have a choice.
Zeke knew the moment I made the decision to go with Jasper, because in one expression he told me goodbye. He stepped away and faded into the crowds, despite being dressed like a big red internal organ.
I stumbled into Jasper’s arms. He stroked my velvety back and whispered, “That’s my girl.”
Ugh.
***
I wore the same black dress to the Valentine’s Dance that I wore to the Christmas one. I mean it’s not like anyone really saw me for very long, and it’s a black dress. No one would remember. Except maybe Ava, but she didn’t care anymore. She had Zeke.
I could go into the details about the dance. For example, how Jasper kept me by his side the whole time except barely talked to me. He laughed with his friends, joked with classmates, and I stood there like a complete doofus. I think for the first time in my life, I wondered if I’d used up all my words. Because I had nothing to say.
Oh, Jasper was the model date. He brought me a bouquet of obnoxious flowers. I guess with him, the bigger the better. He played romantic music in the car as we drove to the dance. He made sure to dance with me almost every slow song with his cheek pressed up against mine.
I guess in a way I deserved it. When I scheme or anything close to it, it comes back to haunt me. Last spring? I ended up in the Program.
Steal a dress from someone who didn’t need it? Spend the Christmas dance alone, scared and in the dark of a science lab wearing a teacher’s smelly lab coat.
Make your kinda-sorta-boyfriend look like he’s second best or not man enough to dress up in a stupid costume? End up glued to his side being showered with all sorts of false attention when all I wanted was to dance with someone else.
I got one moment to myself and was about to enjoy a cool, refreshing root beer, when Michael approached me, shifting back and forth on his feet.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
“Sure. About what?” I couldn’t help it. My heart fluttered just a tiny bit. This was the second time in one day he was talking to me. Sadly, the fluttering had more to do with my long history of thinking I loved him. I was pretty sure those days were gone.
“I think you got the wrong impression earlier at school.”
“What do you mean?” I sighed, feeling the exhaustion of the whole Valentine’s thing. The holiday should be outlawed due to the unnecessary stress and strain it brings to the unattached.
He stammered a bit, and pink heightened in his cheeks even in the dimmed lighting.
“Spit it out.” I encouraged.
“Well, when I was talking about the science camp and getting in and going to extremes, I think you misunderstood me.”
“I know.” I patted him on the shoulder. “You’ve been going to extremes all year to catch Elena’s eye, and you finally realized that you’re done jumping through hoops.”
He cleared his throat and straightened up. “That’s just it. That’s not what I was talking about. I was talking about you.”
I leaned forward and batted my eyes. My heart quickened. Was he about to say that he really wanted me?
He grabbed my hand. “I’m concerned about you.”
“Huh?” His hand was growing a bit sweaty.
“I mean there are dangers to, well, to fighting a dragon…” he glanced at Jasper “…without wearing armor or to sleeping without your shield by your side. Know what I mean?”
“Um, yeah, I guess so.” Totally didn’t get it.
He sighed and acted a bit flustered that I wasn’t catching on. “I’d hate to see you wind up with an open sword wound, all alone.” When I flashed him another confused look, he lowered his voice. “If you dressed up like a heart for Jasper, not saying you did, but if that’s the case…he’s not worth it. You should like someone who appreciates you and treats you the way you deserve to be treated. Not him, but someone else.”
“Ohhh.” I got it and my face felt like a volcano had exploded in my head—or I should say a dragon breathed fire on me. In other words, my plan to make him jealous completely failed.
He nudged my cheek with his knuckles in a move you’d pull with your kid sister. “So, we’re cool?”
“Definitely. Totally. We’re way more than cool. We’re like in the Arctic surrounded by icebergs, slowly going numb, hidden under so many layers of ice that it would take days to chip us out. Of course, that might be a little too much because we wouldn’t want to get hypothermia or lose any limbs from frost bite…”
He flashed a weak smile. “Great. I’ll see you around.” He turned back, probably to find Elena.
“You bet,” I said, even though he didn’t hear me, then turned and walked back to Jasper.
That’s how the Valentine’s dance went—another milestone memory for me during my senior year, the pinnacle of my life. The drive home was another matter entirely.
Over the soft romantic music, Jasper laid it all out. He finally reacted to my writing his paper on the wrong subject and getting him a big, fat F. I hate those red pens.
He pulled into my driveway and grasped my hand. He turned his lazy grin on me. “I know you were just joking with me by writing that paper. But I’m going to give you a chance to make it up.” He stroked the top of my hand with his thumb. “For the rest of the year, you can write all my English essays…and I’ll be sure to read all of them. This way, your dear Michael will never know of your plans to make him jealous, and the school won’t find out you’ve been cheating.”
I stared out the front window, zoning out. I didn’t want Michael anymore, which meant I didn’t need Jasper anymore. “I’m breaking up with you.”
Jasper made this shocked, offended noise. “What?”
“I’m breaking up with you. You’re dumped.”
His face bloomed into a fiery red. “I don’t think so. After that stunt you pulled with my paper?”
I laughed. “You know, red isn’t really your color.” I patted his cheek. “I’ll write your papers, for now. But our relationship is finished.” I sighed. “I just don’t love you anymore.”
On that note, I was about to climb out of the car, when he placed his hand on my leg. “Sorry. I’m not ready to lose you. The charade will continue a while longer, or your academic career will be…” He ran his finger across his neck. Then he chuckled. “Anyway, I like you. You’ve got spunk. I’ll see you in school.” Then after a quick kiss, he said, “And you’re kinda cute.”
I left and went inside, with definitely no floaty, bubbly feeling.
After showering and slipping into my most comfy jammies, I crawled into bed. In the dark, in a place where I could be honest and no one could judge, I thought back on the dance. I thought about what I’d ignored all night.
The image of Zeke dancing with Ava, and the way she draped her arms around his neck and nibbled on his lip ring. He was responding and talking and laughing and whispering with a girl…that wasn’t me.
Chapter 24
The Monday after the dance, I begged Jules to pull me from the prom decoration committee. I couldn’t handle the mushy gushy in-my-face behavior with Zeke that Ava flaunted whenever I happened to be around. I handed the whole medieval theme over to them. My one fleeting addition was digging out Carter’s Halloween costume from middle school. He’d spent days making chain mail and the
best fake-looking armor out there. It even came with a wicked-looking sword—plastic, of course.
And then I told Mr. G. that I was done with the support group. I’d had enough support.
The week after the dance, Carter and I went downtown. I bought a cup of hot chocolate and found a seat on a bench lining Main Street. It was February, and the bitter chill of winter had definitely set in, but today, the sun had made the sky bright and clear.
Carter slid onto the bench next to me. “Hey.”
I looked at him, at his bright eyes, shining with enthusiasm and humor. He wore regular clothes, but somehow was a hot market. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Get all the girls. We’re not so different, you and I.” After all, we were twins.
“Now, that’s where you’re wrong.” He stood and held out his hand to me.
I didn’t take it. He wasn’t getting out of this conversation with simple distractions. “What do you mean by that?”
He sat back down with a huff. “You and I are very different. You believe in true love and all that kind of stuff.” He waved his hands. “I believe in the power of perception and creating a truth that other people want.”
His words didn’t sit right with me, and I was about ready to walk off and leave him with his next hair-brained scheme. “You mean lying?”
Carter grabbed his chest above his heart and gasped. Then he smirked and quit the dramatics. “No, I don’t mean lying. That’s the last way to get someone to like you. No offense, sis.”
“None taken.” But it was true. And I was tired of it.
“I just see what would fit with me and what I like to do and how others will interpret that. You want to see my next scheme in action?”
“Oh, no.”
He smiled, a glint in his eye. “Come on. Watch a master in action.”
With great suspicion, I stood. “I guess so.”
As we walked down the sidewalk of Main Street, I felt like every car that drove by, every classmate that waved, knew we were up to something—even though I didn’t even know what.
“For example, your little Valentine’s Day stunt was terrific.”
“Stunt?” Obviously he didn’t know his twin well, because that day was going down as the most humiliating day of my life! Someday, when I have to share in a college class or on the job about my experiences, I’ll be too embarrassed to even share that one.