Art Geeks and Prom Queens

by Alyson Noel

  “Do you think I’m fat?” I take another bite.

  “No. Not yet.” She raises her eyebrows at me.

  “Then leave me alone.”

  “What?” she asks, sounding shocked and hurt.

  “I mean it. I am so sick of you and Kristi constantly measuring everything I put in my mouth. God, Mom, it’s hard enough dealing with all the pressure I have at school to be perfect all the time. I really don’t need to get the same crap from you.” I push the bowl away, cross my arms, and glare at her.

  My mom looks frantically around the restaurant, trying to determine if anyone was privy to my little outburst.

  “I’m serious,” I say, louder than she would like. “Just leave me alone.”

  “Are things not going well at school?” she whispers, more upset by that than the way I just spoke to her.

  I roll my eyes. “Things are great. Apparently Kristi’s out and I’m in. I’m the new ‘It’ girl.”

  “Really? You’re more popular than Kristi?” she asks carefully, just in case she misheard.

  “She doesn’t even have a date for the Moondance,” I say.

  “But it’s just a few weeks away!” Her eyes go wide with shock and awe.

  I just shrug and look across the room where Jas is laughing and joking with two girls at the bar. One of them reaches out and touches his arm, her hand lingering against his skin.

  Then I look back at my mom sitting across from me, looking really happy and proud.

  Twenty-nine

  When we got home from dinner I went straight to my room and crashed. The coke I’d done the night before had totally caught up with me, and all I wanted was to go to bed and just black out on my life for a while. Then at ten o’clock when my cell phone rang, I woke up just long enough to turn it off.

  The next morning I got to school pretty late since I slept through my alarm, and when my mom came into my room all frantic, I told her I wasn’t feeling well. Then I figured, if I’m gonna miss first period, then I may as well miss second and third, right? But by lunch, I was wide-awake and feeling much better, so I decided to go.

  As my mom drove me to school she kept going on and on about how I might still be sick and that maybe I should stay home and rest until I got better.

  “You don’t want to be sick for the dance,” she said.

  “Mom, it’s like three weeks away.” I rolled my eyes.

  “But still.”

  “I’ll see you later.” I slammed the car door and headed for the lunch tables, feeling bad about faking sick, but probably not as bad as I should.

  Someone comes up behind me and puts his hands around my eyes. “Guess who?” he says.

  Okay, maybe he’s not the smartest guy in school, but if he’d let go of my face I could confirm that he’s still the cutest. “Hey, Tyler.”

  “You knew.” He sounds disappointed. “Where’ve you been? I tried your cell but it was off.”

  “I slept late, I wasn’t feeling well,” I tell him.

  “Are you sick?” he asks, quickly dropping the hand he had just been holding.

  “No, just tired.”

  “Oh.” He nods, taking my hand again. “Why don’t you come hang with us?” He starts pulling me toward the table where the cool seniors sit.

  “Well, my friends are kind of waiting for me,” I say, looking over at Kristi, Kayla, and Jen Jen as they totally gawk at me.

  “I want you to meet everyone,” he says, ignoring my protest and wrapping his arm around my waist.

  So I go with him. And I spend the entire lunch hanging with the alpha seniors. And every time I look over at my friends, they look away.

  After school Tyler doesn’t have practice so he offers me another “driving lesson.” And after navigating the short drive to my house, we end up inside.

  Upstairs.

  In my bedroom.

  We’re on my bed totally making out, and words cannot express how much better it is with Tyler. I mean, JC was like a dumb, needy little boy. But Tyler is like a hot, sexy, older guy. But I’m still determined to take it slow. Not that it’s easy with him being so cute and all, but I really am trying.

  My top is somewhere on the floor, but I’ve got my bra on, so I’m still in control. But then he starts sliding his hands down my jeans. And even though part of me is really tempted, there’s just no way I’m letting that happen. Especially since my mom could walk through the front door at any moment.

  So I go, “Tyler, no, okay?” Then I grasp his hand and pull it back up into the “safe zone,” which is anywhere north of my navel.

  “Why?” he mumbles, still kissing me.

  “My mom’s gonna be home any minute,” I say, grabbing his hand again and pulling it back up again.

  He stops kissing me. “Is that really why?”

  He’s looking right at me, waiting for an answer, and I don’t know what to say. But then I just close my eyes and tell him the truth. Because being a virgin is nothing to be embarrassed about. Is it?

  “For real?” He seems pretty shocked. Which makes me wonder if JC has circulated some false rumor about me. But then he goes, “I didn’t know there were any left, except for maybe a few of the freshmen.”

  I just shrug.

  Then he pulls me close and whispers, “I wanna be your first.”

  I just lie there, not saying anything. Then finally I go, “Oh, okay.” I mean, I don’t really know what to say, since it’s not like I’m holding auditions or anything.

  Then as luck would have it, I hear my mom open the front door and yell, “Rio! Come down and see what Michael and I picked out for the study!”

  I look at Tyler and go, “You’re not gonna want to stick around for this, trust me.”

  I’m totally dating Tyler now, and I’m telling you, it’s like the best thing that ever happened to me. I know I used to think that being with a junior jock was pretty cool. But that’s only because I had no idea how off-the-charts amazing it is to be with a varsity stud. I mean, Tyler’s, like, not only the hottest guy in school, but he’s also a star athlete, super-wealthy (his dad owns a bunch of luxury car dealerships), and he just got an early-acceptance football scholarship to USC (which my dad points out is not an Ivy League school, even though everyone here in Newport Beach—with their USC vanity plates—seems to think it is).

  And it’s so cool because now I hang with all the seniors, and the girls are starting to be way nicer to me than they were in the beginning. They’re always telling me how lucky I am because Tyler is sooo amazingly hot, and even though he’s hooked up with a lot of girls, apparently I’m the first he ever wanted to be exclusive with. So even though sometimes it feels like we don’t have that much in common, it really doesn’t seem important like it did with JC.

  But unfortunately my complete happiness is causing all this tension with my friends. And Kayla, Jen Jen, and Kristi are getting pretty upset about all the time I spend with the seniors now. Just the other day they actually accused me of putting Tyler first. Which is so not fair since I recently invited them to come to a party with us at some house in Corona del Mar. Not to mention that every now and then I even let them sit with us at lunch. Although, to be honest, most of the time Kristi acts so bitchy toward me, I end up wishing she’d just stayed at her old table.

  Look, it’s not my fault the dance is less than two weeks away and she still hasn’t been asked.

  Oh, yeah, and I’ve finally found a focus for my art project—Tyler! When he offered to help Michael move a bookcase into the study that day, Michael went as crazy over him as he did over me. Okay, maybe he went a little crazier over Tyler because he kept poking at him under the pretense of “assessing his model potential.” (Which was pretty much just an excuse to grope him.)

  He told Tyler he should get into “the industry,” and then Tyler confessed he always wanted to be an actor (which was news to me, I thought he wanted to play pro football). So Michael told him he could set up a shoot with Mario Saldana.

  I�
��m starting to think Michael is Mario’s pimp.

  But it turns out that Mario is superbooked for like the next six months. And Tyler was so disappointed that I told him I’d do it. At first he laughed, but then I showed him some of my photos, and he agreed.

  So now I’m shooting his portfolio, which I’m also going to use for my art project. And it still fits under the category of Beauty, because he really is beautiful.

  Sometimes I can’t believe how lucky I am and how great my life is. I mean, just the other day I was replacing that picture on my night-stand of me, Paige, and Hud with one of Tyler’s headshots. I was just about to crinkle it up and toss it in the bin when something caught my eye. I sat on the edge of my bed and peered at it closely, trying to remember what it felt like to be that smiling girl in the photo. She seemed like such a stranger.

  I mean, I may have looked happy then, but that’s only because I didn’t know any better.

  Thirty

  So Sunday afternoon we’re in my room and Kayla, Jen Jen, and Kristi are helping me choose an outfit for Tyler’s USC early-acceptance party, which, by the way, has already started.

  “I would go with the cords and the shrunken tweed blazer,” Kayla says.

  I start to scrunch my nose and make a face, but then I notice she’s wearing cords, so I go, “Well, I kind of need something dressier since it’s the first time I’m going to meet his parents.”

  “What about this?” Jen Jen says, holding up a green chiffon handkerchief-hemmed dress.

  “Yeah, but I also don’t want to be overdressed and look like I’m trying too hard,” I say, noticing how the discard pile is starting to out-number the maybes.

  “Uh, hello? You are trying too hard,” Kristi says, dropping her magazine and rolling her eyes.

  When I look at her I remind myself: She’s just jealous. She still doesn’t have a date for the dance. Don’t react! Which I have to do more and more these days, just to tolerate her.

  “You’re gonna meet them for what? Thirty seconds?” She shakes her head. “You act like you’re having a private dinner when the fact is, it’s a party, and they’ll be hanging with their friends and Tyler will be hanging with his and you might not even see them.”

  “You don’t know that,” I say.

  “FYI Rio, I’ve been to my share of Lido Isle wingdings. My dad lives right down the street, you know” She reaches for her purse, pulls out her lip gloss, and applies another layer while I stand there in my robe, glaring at her. “I’m just saying you shouldn’t stress because it’s not gonna be the big formal introduction like you think.” Then she gets up, reaches into my closet, and says, “Trust me, it’s way more important to have your boyfriend think you’re hot than to have his parents think you’re adorable. Especially since by the time we get there they’ll be on their third or fourth drink and they won’t know the difference anyway. Now, this is what you should wear.”

  I take Kristi’s advice because even though she’s kind of a bitch these days, the truth is she really does know her way around. So when I’ve changed into some cuffed jeans, a sage-green, lace-edged silky camisole, and brown stiletto boots, she says, “Here, take this.” She removes the long hand knit scarf from her neck and wraps it around mine.

  “Are you sure?” I ask. I mean, lately I can never tell if she’s trying to save me or sabotage me.

  “Positive.” She smiles, adjusting her white sequined tank top and denim miniskirt. “It looks better on you anyway.”

  By the time we get to Tyler’s I see everything Kristi said is true. There are so many people I have no idea which of them could possibly be related to Tyler, and from the sounds of the all the laughing and whooping, there’s definitely been some major alcohol consumption.

  “What’d I tell ya?” Kristi links her arm through mine and laughs. “Just a bunch of rich old drunks with shiny new spouses half their age. I bet Tyler and all the hotties are outside on the yacht. Let’s grab some champagne and go find them,” she says, picking up a flute and dragging me out the door and onto the dock while Kayla and Jen Jen trail behind.

  We spot Tyler on deck talking to some people and Kristi goes, “Parent alert.”

  “That’s his mom?” I whisper, gaping at the platinum blonde in the low-cut jeans, silver stiletto sandals, and tight, black V-necked sweater.

  “No, they’re not married yet. She’s still auditioning.” Kristi laughs.

  “You know her?” I ask, wondering why she failed to mention that before.

  “Yes and no. I mean, I didn’t know she was with Tyler’s dad, but she’s a friend of my stepmom and they go on these power walks every morning. She’s learning the tricks of the step-monster trade,” she says. “Anyway, you go play nice. We’ll catch up later.”

  I watch them take off in the opposite direction, then Tyler waves me over and goes, “Rio, come meet my dad and his fiancee, Sienna.”

  I shake hands with his dad. Chip, who looks like Tyler will look in thirty years if he gains thirty pounds and starts wearing lots of gold jewelry and Tommy Bahama Hawaiian shirts, and I give a little wave to Sienna because that’s how she greets me. That is, after she looks me up and down a few times. But then again, Sienna doesn’t look much older than me, so I shouldn’t expect her interest to be very maternal.

  “So what colleges have you applied to?” Chip asks, taking a sip of red wine and smiling.

  “Oh, I haven’t yet. I’m still only a junior,” I say, smiling nervously and feeling kind of weird when I sip my champagne right in front of him.

  “Gotta keep an eye on the future. Tyler here’s been working toward USC since day one.” He balls his hand into a fist and digs his knuckles hard into his son’s shoulder. “I’m an alumnus and I’m telling you it’s the best school out there. You can do anything you want with a degree from USC.”

  I glance at Sienna who’s bored as hell and bouncing an empty champagne flute against her man-made breasts, then I look at Chip and go, “Oh, well my dad sort of has his heart set on Columbia. ‘Cause that’s where he went.”

  Chip stops smiling and looks at me like I’ve said something horrible. And I just stand there like a total reject, knowing it took less than five minutes for me to blow it.

  “Well, I better go make sure my house is still in one piece. You kids have fun.” He slugs Tyler in the arm and smiles at me. But only with his lips, it never quite makes it to his eyes.

  When they’re gone I turn to Tyler and say, “Oh, god, your dad hates me.”

  “Who cares.” He shrugs. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

  After going in and out of several amazingly, overdecorated rooms, we end up in this massive stateroom that’s bigger than most New York City apartments. “Jeez,” I say, looking around at the cream and gold walls and the painting of frolicking cherubs hanging opposite the bed. “This is really . . . something.”

  “Isn’t it?” Tyler says, settling onto the elaborate gold-embroidered bedspread and holding out his hand for me to join him.

  “What if someone comes?” I ask, standing in front of him, hesitating.

  “Don’t worry, the door’s locked,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me down next to him.

  We’re lying on the bed totally making out, and even though I love being with Tyler, I can’t really relax because I keep thinking about how Chip is gonna hate me even more when he comes barging in and finds me in bed with his son. I mean, even though Tyler swears he locked the door, it’s still his dad’s boat so I’m sure he has a key.

  But Tyler doesn’t seem to care about any of that since he’s already unwrapped Kristi’s scarf from my neck and thrown it to the ground. And now his fingers are heading straight for my zipper.

  I open one eye and peer at the door, staring at the big gold handle, hoping it really is locked. Then I do what I always do when Tyler tries to get in my pants. I push his hand away, and get in his.

  Usually when it’s over, he kisses the top of my head, hugs me tight, and tells me I’m
beautiful. But this time he just pulls me up so we are face-to-face and says, “Rio, when do you think you’ll be ready for more?”

  Oh, great. I close my eyes and snuggle into his shoulder so I won’t have to make eye contact. Because even though I’m totally into him, the fact is I’m not in love with him. And it may sound lame, but I really wanted to be in love my first time.

  He lets out a long, exasperated sigh, and says, “This really isn’t working for me anymore. It’s getting kind of old.”

  But I just stay there, hiding in his shoulder, breathing in his musky scent, and not saying anything.

  “I’m serious,” he says. “Either we’re taking the next step, or I’m gonna have to bail.”

  Okay, I’m pretty sure that was blackmail. And I know I shouldn’t fall for it. But there’s no way I’m gonna risk getting dumped by Tyler, because being his girlfriend is a really big deal. So I take a deep breath and say, “My parents are going out of town next weekend.”

  Then he hugs me and kisses the top of my head and says, “Perfect.”

  After we leave the stateroom Tyler goes to get us more drinks and I head into the living room or salon (or whatever they call it in yacht-speak), where Kristi, Kayla, and Jen Jen are sitting on this cream-colored couch talking with some guys from school. Kayla’s sipping a beer and focusing all of her attention on Kevin, who she’s liked for awhile now, and Jen Jen, as usual, is flirting with everyone just to increase her chances. But Kristi’s just sort of sitting on the sidelines, watching everyone and looking completely bored. And it seems really strange how just a couple months ago she was the center of everyone’s attention, but now she can’t even get a date.

  It’s like, from the outside nothing’s changed, because she’s still tiny and beautiful and totally perfect. But inside she’s grown harder, nastier, and bitchier.

  And I wonder if it’s because of me.

  I mean, before I showed up she was the undisputed queen of the junior class. But now it’s pretty obvious I’m wearing the crown.