Being Whitney (Book one of the Being Series): A Young Adult Novel

by Elizabeth Thompson

  “Who’d you vote for?” Brynley asked with a smirk, looking at both Ivy and Whitney for their answers.

  “You,” they both said. Brynley giggled in response.

  “I voted for Whitney,” James said. He stood behind them grinning, until Brynley punched him.

  They had to wait until the assembly on Friday to get the final results of the vote, yet that didn’t stop Brynley from filling lunch with discussion of what dresses she would wear for the parade, crowning at the football game and of course the dance. Once they all agreed Brynley’s dress choices were perfect they began finalizing their plans for the week. The parade took place the following Wednesday followed by a night of class competitions on the football field. Ivy, having the most experience with all of the high school stuff through her two older siblings, told them they had to wear crazy and fun outfits to the stuff on Wednesday night. After much debate, the decided on wild colored running tights paired with puffy painted tank tops they’d make on Saturday after they worked on the float. Excitement started to fill Whitney.

  Friday flew by and before she knew it Whitney was walking into the gym with Everley. The squeal of off-tune brass instruments blared from the top of the bleachers and the cheerleaders danced enthusiastically in the middle of the gym floor, as students filed in. Whitney followed Everley to the middle of the freshman section where Ivy, Jesse and Will. Brynley and James joined a few minutes later. Brynley struggled to sit still from the anticipation.

  Whitney leaned into Jesse. “We should all prepare ourselves now. If Brynley doesn’t win this thing I think the world is going to end,” she said.

  After they introduced the varsity football team and let them parade the stage to the sound of 300 screaming girls, it was the moment of truth: the announcements of the princesses. The ASB officers stood in front of the freshman section with the tiara and sash in their hands. Whitney watched Brynley, prepared to clap wildly, when Phillip made the announcement.

  “And this year’s Freshman Princess is….Whitney Volsum!”

  The crowd erupted in applause and everyone stared at Whitney, as Whitney stared at Brynley. She still hadn’t processed the situation when Everley and Ivy began pushing her up and out of the stands.

  “Go down there.”

  “You have to go get your crown.”

  “Can we have Whitney on the floor please?’ Phillip said.

  Still confused, Whitney began the descent with the whole school watching her. From the bottom, she glanced at Brynley one more time. Brynley was staring at the ground as James whispered something in her ear. Whitney felt horrible. She didn’t want this, but no one was asking her for an opinion, no one ever asked for her opinion.

  Someone jammed a tiara onto her head making her extremely aware of the fact her hair had been thrown in a ponytail at the last minute this morning. Next a microphone appeared in her face waiting for a response to a question she hadn’t heard. Phillip took the microphone back and asked again, “Who are you choosing for your escort?”

  Escort? What? A boy…name a boy. “Jesse Richmond,” she said with some sort of newly developed stutter. Delighted, Jesse made his way down. They put a sash that said “Freshman” across his chest and then moved onto the sophomores, leaving Jesse and Whitney standing in front of their class. The rest of the announcements went much smoother. Some girl named Catheryn won for sophomores, Lucy for juniors and when Jasmine was announced for the seniors the whole crowd went wild. Whitney stood frozen on the gym floor, playing with a spot on her shirt where her hem had come undone, and staring at Brynley. Ivy, Everley and everyone else in a three foot radius seemed to be engaged in offering their condolences to Brynley. Whitney felt like running up there and giving Brynley the tiara; making this right. Jesse put his arm around Whitney’s shoulders and whispered congratulations. His touch, his smile, his eyes all said something Whitney didn’t want them to. She hadn’t thought this through. She gave him a weak smile and then stared at the green untied shoelace of some kid she’d never seen before in the front row. She studied that shoelace like a science project, trying to keep the tears at bay. She hated the stares she felt coming from every direction. She kept adjusting her t-shirt and second guessing her choice in jeans for the day. She knew everyone sat in the bleachers judging her. She wanted out. She wanted to sit down, could she sit down? She looked to her left and saw the other princesses and escorts still standing in front of their classes looking unfazed.

  Phillip congratulated the winners and immediately forced them to play a number of embarrassing, seemingly endless games, which Whitney hated and Jesse enjoyed. Whitney felt like the contestant on Wipe-Out they always re-play falling a million times for optimum laughs. When the last game ended Whitney wanted to cry with relief.

  “Escorts you are welcome to return to your seats, but princesses you are still needed on the floor. Please come and have a seat in the chairs set up for you,” Phillip said.

  Without Jesse Whitney felt fully exposed as she sat in her chair and looked out at the crowd. She seriously thought she might vomit. She clinched her hands and focused on her breathing. She would NOT vomit front and center at this assembly.

  The lights went out and two spot lights covered the princesses. The only benefit of this: she could no longer see anyone in the audience. Music started playing from the loud speakers….Justin Beiber’s “Baby?”

  ‘What is going on?’ Whitney thought in a panic.

  Next, she heard off-key singing and movement from behind her. She turned just in time to see the varsity football team surround the princesses to serenade them. The gym seemed to close in upon Whitney; hysterically laughing students with phones pointed at her face from the front and singing, attractive boys in football jerseys from all other sides. Hitting the first chorus, Leif and Phillip each took a knee in front of Whitney and gazed at her while singing between laughs.

  Whitney looked to her right, more football players staring at her; singing. To her left the other princess, also surrounded, somehow seeming to enjoy this odd torture. Back in front of her, Leif remained. His eyes were bright blue and full of a mischief she hadn’t seen before. She loved it and the butterflies those eyes stirred within her. His thin lips turned up in a smile even as he sang, making her squirm. She shook her head at him in disapproval. As they reached the last few lines, Leif grabbed Whitney’s, now completely sweaty hand, and held it through to the end, at which point he kissed it. Whitney’s insides melted when she felt his lips brush her skin. The crowd cheered loudly in wild approval of the performance and Whitney felt her cheeks grow redder still.

  ◆◆◆

  With the complete horror over, Whitney walked to the media center with Jesse at her side to receive instructions on her princess duties.

  “Thanks for picking me to be your escort,” Jesse said. “This is going to be awesome,”

  “Who else was I going to pick?” said Whitney. Only when Jesse’s face fell did she realize how rude the statement sounded.

  Jesse opened his mouth to reply but said nothing. As they reached the media center Whitney buried her head in her hands.

  “You know Brynley will get over it. She has three more years. Everyone was already telling her that its way better to win as a junior or a senior than as a freshman anyways,” Jesse said. She nodded slightly without lifting her head.

  “That serenade was great!” he said. “Leif and Phillip knew every word to that song. I was dying the whole time.”

  “Me too,” was Whitney’s muffled response.

  Jesse grabbed Whitney’s arm and pulled it out from under her head, gently yet forcing her to look at him.

  “This is cool. Every girl wants to be homecoming princess. You get to be in the parade and wear pretty dresses and have everyone in our class cheering for you. I know you don’t like to be in front of people, but I’ll be with you and it’ll be fun. I promise.” He finally released her arm and let the last words hang in the air. Whitney nodded gently wanting to believe him.

&nb
sp; Phillip, Eva, Jasmine and the rest of the ASB crew handed out a calendar for the following week. The court was required to participate in each dress up day, wear their obnoxious crowns/sashes all week, ride in a convertible during the parade on Wednesday, be at the game on Friday and appear on the field with both their escorts and their fathers (Whitney cringed at the thought of calling her dad) and attend the dance on Saturday. In Whitney’s mind the plan translated into: be in front of everyone for an entire week. She was not a fan of that.

  ◆◆◆

  Whitney’s mom dropped her off at Ivy’s 1970s sprawling yellow ranch style home at eleven o’clock sharp the next morning for the float building party.

  Whitney followed the booming sound of Everley’s voice to the large shop sitting to the side of the house and found everyone huddled around a flatbed trailer getting their instructions. As Whitney approached the open garage door she saw Brynley without even looking for her. She was hard to miss, that one. Whitney moved quietly to the opposite side of the group, choosing avoidance for the moment.

  “This year’s theme for floats is Superheroes, so we picked to do Spiderman,” Everley was explaining. “Today we need to paint the city-scape, which Ivy will be leading, put up the two big poles for spiderman to swing from, create the office area for Peter Parker, make big spider webs to put all over and paint a sign for the front. So everyone should pick something to work on and we can get it done quickly.” Everley jumped down with a smile as everyone started distributing themselves between the activities.

  Whitney busied herself making webs with a group of kids she barely knew and struggled to remember why she had wanted to come at all. After about an hour they had twenty, pretty cool, patterned webs sparkling beautifully from the gravel outside the shop where they’d laid them to dry. Less cool was the extremely sticky and sparkly, hands, shoes and jeans Whitney now had. She asked Ivy where she could wash her hands and was directed inside the house. Walking across the driveway she felt a rush of relief with each step she took further from Brynley’s emanating anger.

  Ivy had instructed her to go in the back door, turn left and it was the first door on the left. Once inside though, she was distracted by first, the intricate organization of the laundry room and then, just beyond, the beautiful kitchen looking out over the backyard. Huge windows filled the back wall of the kitchen framing a large play-set and the fields beyond. It was every bit as picturesque as her house making her wonder why all the fuss about Whitney’s house?

  “Did you need something?”

  Whitney jumped, spun around and smacked her head directly into the edge of the wall.

  “The bathroom.” She managed to get out as she rubbed her head with her arm trying to avoid smearing glitter all over her head. Overcoming the initial pain she looked up to find Leif sporting a rather entertained grin.

  “Oh, hi.”

  “Hi,” Leif said. “The bathroom is to the left.”

  He smiled at her as she stood there frozen.

  First she remembered she looked like crap. Second she remembered glitter covered at least 80% of her. Third she remembered she was randomly standing in his house and fourth, she remembered the serenade from yesterday.

  Completely horrified she mumbled a thanks and headed in the direction he pointed.

  Whitney stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror in disgust. Her “messy bun” was beyond messy, her lack of good makeup was painfully obvious and now she’d added a growing lump right above her left eye. That would go well with her homecoming dress. AHHH! She wanted to scream but knew Leif was still out there somewhere. So instead, she scrubbed her hands until they were glitter-free, did what she could to her hair and headed back out towards the shop.

  “How’s the head?” the familiar voice asked as she rounded the hall corner. She turned and found Leif sitting at the bar with a bag of ice in his hand.

  She rubbed her fingers over it again, wincing at the pain. “It’s still attached.”

  “Here, I found some ice for you.” Leif held out the bag in front of him.

  She looked around her, unsure of what to do. She could go back to the shop and be suffocated by the tension again, or take a seat next to Leif and ice her throbbing head.

  “I mean unless you’re in a rush to add more glitter to yourself,” Leif said.

  “Maybe for a few minutes,” she said.

  Whitney sat at the barstool beside him and held the ice to her head.

  “So, how much fun was that assembly?” Leif said. His smile sent an exhilarating shudder down Whitney’s back.

  “I guess it could have been worse,” she said.

  “How?” he asked giggling. “Because I can arrange another.”

  “Please don’t,” she said.

  “Is Brynley livid that you won?” Leif asked.

  “Eh, kinda,” Whitney said.

  “Kinda? I know Brynley’s type. They aren’t kinda girls. Either they’re furious or they’re good.”

  “Yeah, she’s furious.”

  “She’ll live,” Leif assured her. “Girls always think their life is over due to dumb stuff like this, but they always live.”

  “So true,” Whitney said.

  As silence took over, she realized how close they were, even closer than they’d sat at her house. He wore basketball shorts and a tattered t-shirt, which somehow made him look hotter than ever. He played with the water bottle sitting in front of him, his hand only inches from Whitney’s. She tried unsuccessfully to figure out how to move away from him without being obvious. The closeness and the silence made her chest tighten.

  “Was Eva pissed about yesterday?” Whitney blurted it out, speaking again without enough thought.

  Leif looked at her with an apprehensive expression making her regret the question.

  “Yeah.”

  “She seems mad a lot.” Whitney said it more to herself than Leif.

  “She is, she really is.” He nodded as he stared into the backyard where three small toe-headed children played on the swing set. “And I knew she would be, but I kinda don’t care. It was fun, and funny, so let her be mad.”

  “Who exactly found it funny?” Whitney shot him an inquiring look.

  “Pretty much the entire school.” Leif said. “Well, except you and Eva, but you guys don’t really matter.”

  His dimple appeared as he grinned at his own joke. Whitney tried to act mad, but failed.

  “Maybe Eva is mad all the time because you’re mean to her. Ever think about that?”

  Leif cocked his head to the side pretending to think about it, “Nope,” he said, and they both laughed.

  “What are you doing?” Brynley asked suddenly from the kitchen doorway.

  “Oh hey,” Whitney said. She was surprised Brynley was talking to her at all. “I ran into the wall so Leif got me some ice for my head.” Whitney held up the ice as proof.

  “You ran into the wall?” Brynley asked. She had a magical way of making people feel extremely stupid for doing just about anything.

  “Yeah,” Whitney said. She handed the ice back to Leif and moved towards the door. “Thanks for the ice. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem,” he said.

  Whitney followed Brynley out the door glancing back before she closed it to find Leif still watching them from the kitchen.

  “There you are!” Everley said. “We were beginning to think you’d gone home.” The shop had emptied while Whitney was inside, leaving just Ivy and Everley alone in the cavernous space.

  “She was inside flirting with Leif,” Brynley said.

  “I was not.” Whitney fired a glare in Brynley’s direction. She hadn’t even thought about it, but now realized that was exactly how the situation would appear to Ivy and Jasmine. “Leif scared me and I ran into a wall so he got me some ice for my head. That’s it.”

  “You ran into a wall?” Ivy asked.

  “I said the same thing,” Brynley said.

  “Yeah I did. Large bump to prove it.” W
hitney pointed at her forehead.

  “Wow! You did hit a wall.” Everley took a step forward to investigate, trying to hold back laughter.

  “That’s special,” said Ivy.

  The girls moved on to decorating their shirts, but Ivy’s accusatory glances continued the rest of the day.

  ◆◆◆

  On Sunday night, Mable poked her head into Whitney’s room, and mostly because this was the first person she’d talked to all day, Whitney didn’t scream at her to get out.

  With her music blaring, Whitney barley heard Mable.

  “I tried knocking.”

  “What?” Whitney said.

  “I tried knocking.”

  “Oh, sorry. I guess my music was a little loud. What’s up?”

  Whitney sat cuddled into her oversized pink chair with her history notebook strewn across her lap. Mable crawled onto the high full sized bed Whitney’s mom had special ordered before their arrival, and began to pick at the teal flowers adorning Whitney’s quilt.

  “How’s school going?” Mable asked.

  “Fine...” Whitney said.

  “I hear it’s like homecoming week or something. That sounds cool,” Mable continued.

  “Yep,” Whitney said. She sat down her pencil and stared at her sister.

  “My friend Aspen overheard his sister talking to some of her friends about how you had been voted homecoming princess.” Mable blurted it out while still staring at the quilt.

  “Your friend Aspen shouldn’t eavesdrop,” Whitney said.

  “He didn’t, he just heard them.”

  Mable looked up slowly, “Is it true?”

  “Yeah,” Whitney said.

  Mable let out a shriek.

  “This is SO exciting! Why didn’t you tell mom? We have to go shopping! Aspen said there’s like a parade and you go out on the football field and there’s a dance,” Mable was dancing around the room now. “Oh, and she said you get to pick a date! Who’d you pick?”

  “My friend Jesse,” Whitney said.

  Mable stopped dancing around long enough to collect more details. “Is he cute? What’s he look like?”