by Flynn Meaney
Darcy climbs up on the little stage in the front of the room next to the DJ booth, and Hunter and I turn our chairs so we’re facing that way. Up at the microphone, Darcy clears her throat.
“Hi, everybody. I’m up here to introduce tonight’s prom queen, prom king, and best couple. As I introduce them, please keep in mind that these positions come with no responsibility and zero political clout, and are merely the result of a shallow, antiquated popularity contest….”
Then she opens the envelope casually, to prove that she really doesn’t care.
“The Julius P. Heil High School prom queen is… Amy Schiffer,” Darcy says with a shrug.
Amy immediately pops up out of her seat, shrieking. She came with one of Eugene’s escorts, this very beefy blond guy, and she hugs him before running up onto the stage. At the same table, Pam looks super-bitter, and she tries to get Josh to turn to look at her. But Josh is totally focused on Darcy, and he’s already buttoning up his suit jacket. He’s sure he’s going to be prom king.
“The Julius P. Heil High School prom king is…” Darcy stops and frowns at the envelope. “Um… Scott Paganelli?”
What? Who is Scott Paganelli? I turn to Hunter, but he shrugs, equally clueless. No one is clapping.
“Yay!” Amy shrieks and pushes Darcy out of the way and takes the microphone. “It’s my date, Scott! Come up here, Scott!”
At Amy’s table, Pam and Josh are looking seriously angry. “He’s got a pedigree,” Eugene explains to us. “He was king at three Catholic school proms last year. That’s how I sold him to Amy.”
Darcy gives Amy and Scott their crowns. While Amy is trying to figure out how to put hers on without messing up her already frizzy red curls, Darcy sighs and opens the second envelope.
“The Julius P. Heil High School prom best couple is… Bobbi Novak and Eugene Pluskota.”
Around us, everyone is clapping really loudly—they’re probably excited to hear two names they actually know. Plus, Eugene’s escorts are standing at their respective tables and giving him a standing ovation. I turn around to see how Bobbi is reacting, expecting a squeal at such a high decibel it belongs on a Mariah Carey album. But Bobbi is very calm. She comes over to our table, smiles at all of us, and extends her hand to Eugene.
Eugene takes her hand and stands up. The applause is really loud, but we’re so close that we can hear what he says to her.
“How did this happen?” he asks. “We’re not even together anymore! How did people think to vote us best couple?”
Bobbi can’t contain herself. Her face is all warm and happy and glowing from the candlelight of our table.
“I rigged it!” she tells him. “I rigged the vote!”
At first Eugene looks surprised, but then he looks touched and proud. And then I think he looks down her dress, but just for half a second. “That’s my girl,” he says.
A slow song is on, and Scott and Amy are already out on the floor, dancing, and Bobbi and Eugene join them.
For some reason, Darcy is still onstage, even though she opened all her envelopes already, and when the song winds down, she goes to the microphone again.
“And now an announcement I am happy to make,” Darcy says. “We welcome to the stage for their debut performance a band that is still searching for an appropriate name but is currently called… the D-Bags.”
I turn to ask Hunter, “Is Derek really playing?” But Hunter is standing up and buttoning his jacket. What’s going on?
“This is my cue,” he tells me, and before I can say anything, he jogs to the front of the room, jumps up onto the stage, and pulls back the red curtain. I see Derek—sitting in a chair—and my first thought is that Hunter and Derek are going to pull some prank. But Darcy backs up, handing Hunter the microphone, and I realize that if Darcy’s in on this, it can’t be a joke.
“So hey, everybody,” Hunter says, looking around at all the tables. “Hey, Scott, Amy—congrats, guys. So I’m not actually in the D-Bags; I’m just up here to sing you one song. But I’m a total slacker, as you all know, so it’s the same song I sang at the talent show thingy a few months ago. When I wrote the song, I thought that it was about my bed. But I think subconsciously… or unconsciously… I kinda wrote it about someone else, who helped me with the song. She’s my date tonight, so… Kelly, this is for you.”
Everyone is looking at me.
“You’re the healer, I’m the holder….”
Hunter looks so good in his tux, with his hair falling across his forehead, leaning forward into the microphone. And he sounds amazing. And surprisingly, the D-Bags sound pretty good, too.
“You’re the soft place that I fall, after all….”
By the second verse, people get up to dance. At my table, Aviva’s date is itching to get up and dance some more, so he pulls her out of her seat. On her way to the floor, she squeezes my shoulder.
As the song winds down, I’m the only person left at our table, but I don’t mind. When the DJ puts on another slow song, Dave and Damian leave their instruments and come down from the stage. Darcy is waiting for Derek, holding his crutches. Hunter jumps off the stage and comes back to the table.
“How did that happen?” I ask him, in amazement.
Hunter shrugs and laughs.
I stand up to hit him playfully on the lapel of his tuxedo.
“Tell me! Tell me everything!” I beg. “How were you allowed to do that? Since when are the D-Bags actually a band? When did they learn your song? Tell me everything!”
Hunter laughs again, and pulls me out onto the dance floor with everyone else. Right away, he takes the lead, pulling me in close, with his hand on the small of my back.
“So?” I ask.
“A lotta people helped out,” Hunter says. “Eugene, and Eugene’s barber, and…”
“Eugene’s barber?”
“I gave the lessons, though,” Hunter says. “I mean, the song was easy, but none of those guys ever played an instrument before. We’ve been practicing, like, every day.”
“But Dave was playing the bass!” I say. “You taught him how to play the bass? You know how to play the bass?”
“Kinda, I guess,” Hunter admits, shrugging. “Teaching Dave wasn’t too bad. Teaching Derek was the worst, ’cause I was scared he was gonna do something to my guitar—like, smash it or something. But he couldn’t do anything too bad with the crutches and all.”
“I can’t believe you taught them!” I say. “In such a short time! What, like, a month?”
“Well, you’re the one who said I could teach,” Hunter says. “So I guess it all started with you.”
Hunter pulls me in really close and kisses me. He smells good, and he feels good, and his sleeves are soft against my arms, and his mouth is soft against my mouth.
We kiss for a long time, and when we finally look up, a lot of people have left the dance floor, which should be embarrassing, but I don’t care. “Hey,” Hunter says, pointing to our table. “Look.”
They’re half blocked by Derek’s crutches, but Darcy and Derek have turned their chairs toward each other, Darcy is wearing Derek’s hat, backward—and they’re kissing.
“Maybe I owe you more than five dollars on that bet,” I say.
“Nahhh,” Hunter says, his arms still around me. “The satisfaction of being right is enough for me.”
I laugh.
“So whadda you think?” he asks in his slow, easy voice, smiling down at me. “Am I a good date?”
“You’re more romantic than a Taylor Swift song,” I tell him.
CHAPTER 32: HUNTER
“Recession Wrap-Up: What We’ve Learned and How We Can Grow”
“The Boy Recession©” by Aviva Roth, The Julius Journal, June
Hey-o!” I call out to Eugene and Derek as I stroll down the dock to Eugene’s sailboat.
It’s the first day of summer vacation, and there’s an awesome wind for sailing. Eugene and Derek are already on the boat, waiting for me.
“You
’re late!” Eugene tells me as I climb over the side. He’s got the boat all ready for sailing. Derek isn’t helping at all, but to be fair, he’s still got the cast on. “Damn, Huntro,” he says, and whistles. “Check you out!”
I’m wearing a polo shirt and khakis. These are the nicest clothes I’ve had on since prom, which was a month and a half ago.
“Did your girlfriend dress you up?” Eugene asks.
“Nah.” I shake my head, hopping up onto one of the side railings. “I had a job interview!”
“What?” Eugene squawks, taking off his sunglasses to examine me. “Seriously?”
“Hell, yeah. And I got the job!”
“What is it?”
“I’m teaching guitar lessons at the music school. I put Derek down as a reference. He told them how I taught him to play guitar in a month and got him his first public gig.”
“It’s all true,” Derek says, sitting up to stretch and accidentally knocking his hat off. “I also told them I was recovering from an injury at the time, so you have experience working with the disabled.”
“Well, it worked,” I say. “I’ve got a job.”
“First day of summer and you’re already employed,” Derek says, putting his hat back on. “Pretty impressive, Huntro.”
“Actually, it’s not that impressive,” Eugene contradicts him, stepping over Derek to do something with a rope. “Considering he started job-hunting over a year ago.”
“Hey!” I say to Eugene. “Gimme some credit, dude. I’m wearing a shirt with a collar.”
“All right. Are we ready to set sail?” he asks.
I hop down from my railing, go sit by Derek, and take out my phone.
“We gotta wait for Kelly,” I tell Eugene. “She’s on her way. Is Bobbi coming out with us?”
Eugene shakes his head.
“She’s away on a retreat.”
Derek, who’s scratching all around the edge of his cast, looks up to say, “I thought you guys were going on a retreat next week.”
“That’s a different retreat,” Eugene says, rolling his eyes. “The one she’s on now is the Christian teen retreat. The one I have to go to with her is the young Christian couples retreat.”
“Well, look at you,” I say to Eugene, as I put my foot up on Derek’s cast. “Saintly little gingerbread boy.”
He tries to whip me with a rope, but he completely fails at it.
Eugene and Bobbi are back together, and Eugene is dealing with the fact that he can’t flirt with other girls and that Bobbi still won’t let him touch her boobs. Seriously, though, I think he’s pretty happy. But Eugene’s not the only dude around here with a girlfriend. I’ve got one, too. I’ve got a job, a shirt with a collar, and a girlfriend. And this girlfriend is actually not a psycho, which is a step up from Diva. Kelly and I have been dating since the prom. We never actually decided to be boyfriend and girlfriend. I just kept asking her to hang out, and we kept hanging out until one day Derek or Eugene or someone referred to her as my girlfriend, and she seemed to be okay with it.
But I have to keep reminding myself she’s my girlfriend—like now, as she comes down the dock with Darcy, and she’s laughing and the wind is blowing her hair and she looks completely awesome. At times like this, I realize that this whole year and all the crap I had to deal with were all worth it. This year was so ridiculous for me—being in the play, getting that ulcer, learning how to dance, cutting my hair, going to the emergency room, getting yelled at for my grades, getting yelled at for wearing a blue-green shirt instead of a blue shirt. But I guess dealing with all that bullshit got me off my ass so Kelly noticed me.
And now she’s actually my girlfriend. She must be, because after I help her onto the boat, she kisses me.
“Congrats on the job!” Kelly says. “That’s so exciting! You are going to be an awesome teacher.”
Kelly was the first person I called after I got the job. I called her even before I called Derek, and he was my reference.
I help Darcy onto the boat, too, and when she sees Derek lying on the deck, she glares at him.
“I would’ve helped you!” Derek says. “But I can’t stand up!”
“You wouldn’t have helped me either way,” Darcy says.
“Come here.” Derek stretches both arms out to Darcy. “Come here and kiss me, wife.”
Derek always tells Darcy that they’re gonna get married, but when he says it, Darcy shoots him the same no-chance-in-hell look she’s got on her face right now. Derek and Darcy are not dating. But they do actually hook up sometimes. It wasn’t just at prom—that was the only time they made out in public, but apparently they’ve made out a few other times since. Kelly told me that Darcy hooks up with Derek only in dark or sketchy places, the way girls used to hook up with me. Darcy and Kelly sit down on either side of me, and Kelly says, “Eugene, your boat is really nice! When Hunter told me you kept all your beer on a boat, I was kind of picturing a canoe with a few cases of Milwaukee’s Second-Best on it.”
“Do you have life jackets on here?” Darcy asks.
Kelly turns to me and says in a low voice, “Aviva makes us watch Titanic every weekend. It’s made Darcy a little paranoid.”
“I gave a seminar on nautical safety earlier,” Eugene tells Darcy sarcastically. “You missed it because you were late.”
“Sorry, Eugene,” Kelly says. “We were saying good-bye to Aviva. She’s leaving for engineering camp.”
“Seriously?” I say. “I didn’t even know she liked math.”
“Oh, she hates it,” Kelly says. “But engineering camp is eighty percent guys.”
“So she’s looking for a dude?” Derek asks.
“No, surprisingly,” Darcy says. “She’s going undercover to report on it. She’s calling it ‘The Girl Recession.’ She’s gonna be gone for six weeks!”
“Don’t worry,” Derek says, grabbing on to the railing and pulling himself up. “I’ll keep you company when she’s away.”
He grabs on to the mast and supports himself while he hops over to Darcy. She doesn’t help him at all, but when he sits down, she smiles. Derek looks at me and mouths the words Feelin’ the kid.
Eugene, who’s leaning over the side of the boat, untying the dock rope and giving us all a nice full view of his ass, turns back to ask, “Everyone ready to set sail?”
For some reason, everyone else looks at me, like I’m the decision-maker or something. Darcy is trying to wrestle a cigarette lighter out of Derek’s hand, but they both stop and look up at me. So I shrug, put my arm around Kelly, and give Eugene the signal.
“Let’s go for it,” I say.
Also by Flynn Meaney
Bloodthirsty
MANY THANKS TO THE FOLLOWING PEOPLE: my agent, Dan Lazar, who handles all the aspects of publishing that I’m clueless about; my editor, Elizabeth Bewley, who worked tirelessly to help me find this story’s focus and direction; everyone else at Writers House and Little, Brown; Rachel Markwiese, who gave me the inside scoop on Whitefish Bay; my family and friends, especially the ones who visited me at the library and entertained me on Gchat while I rewrote and revised this manuscript; and all the people whose names I borrowed for characters (with or without permission).
Contents
WELCOME
DEDICATION
CHAPTER 1: HUNTER
CHAPTER 2: KELLY
CHAPTER 3: KELLY
CHAPTER 4: HUNTER
CHAPTER 5: KELLY
CHAPTER 6: HUNTER
CHAPTER 7: HUNTER
CHAPTER 8: KELLY
CHAPTER 9: HUNTER
CHAPTER 10: KELLY
CHAPTER 11: HUNTER
CHAPTER 12: KELLY
CHAPTER 13: HUNTER
CHAPTER 14: KELLY
CHAPTER 15: HUNTER
CHAPTER 16: KELLY
CHAPTER 17: KELLY
CHAPTER 18: HUNTER
CHAPTER 19: KELLY
CHAPTER 20: HUNTER
CHAPTER 21: KELLY
CHAPTER 22: KELLY
CHAPTER 23: HUNTER
CHAPTER 24: HUNTER
CHAPTER 25: KELLY
CHAPTER 26: HUNTER
CHAPTER 27: KELLY
CHAPTER 28: HUNTER
CHAPTER 29: KELLY
CHAPTER 30: HUNTER
CHAPTER 31: KELLY
CHAPTER 32: HUNTER
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ALSO BY FLYNN MEANEY
COPYRIGHT
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2012 by Flynn Meaney
Book design by Saho Fujii
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Poppy
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First e-book edition: August 2012
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ISBN 978-0-316-20256-5
Table of Contents
WELCOME
DEDICATION
CHAPTER 1: HUNTER
CHAPTER 2: KELLY