by Jenni James
CLAIRE: So was the food good?
ME: The food?
CASSIDY: Yeah. What did you order?
ME: Order?
CLAIRE: I bet it was awesome.
ME: You know, I can’t remember . . .
MOM: There you go. If a girl can’t remember the next day what she ate at the Lion’s Den, then—
DAD: Then it isn’t worth going there.
MOM: No, then she’s in love.
ME: I am not in love! Eew. Look, can I go to my room now? I have a lot of homework.
MOM: Sure, honey. I’m glad you had a great time.
Parents. They so never get it, do they?
Had it not been for Blake’s phone call that evening, I’m not sure I would’ve poked my head back out of my room until the morning. As it was, Blake completely cheered me up and brought me out of my grumpy mood.
“So, did you miss me while you were on your date last night?” he asked.
“Uh, what do you think?” I grinned.
“Yes. Definitely yes.”
“Then you would be right.”
“I would, huh? So how did it go?” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Awful.”
“Awful?” He sounded pleasantly surprised.
“Yes! Completely, totally, and utterly awful.”
Blake chuckled. “So you missed me bad?”
“I was so desperate for conversation I would’ve talked to my fork. Except then people would’ve heard me talk to it.”
“So you’re saying the guy never talked to you?”
“No. It was so immature. All he did was play with his fancy Google phone.”
“He’s got a Google Nexus 5? Wow! What does his look like?”
What is it with guys and gadgets? “Blake, focus.”
“Sorry.” He sounded so sheepish I forgave him instantly. “So, you were saying you had a horrible date. How can I make it up to you?”
Ask me out on a date again. “Uh, I don’t know.”
“How about I take you somewhere amazing, somewhere really fun?”
I’m hooked. Seriously, is there a sweeter guy in the world? “Okay. When? Where?” I giggled.
“After four-wheeling Wednesday night? I already have that day off.”
“Um, okay. I just have to be home by ten 10:00.”
“Oh, yeah, you have a curfew,” Blake said. “I forget that you’re younger than I think you are.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. You seem older to me, you know?”
Oh my gosh, he’s so awesome. “I wish I was older.” “How old are you, anyway? Eighteen? Nineteen?” “Really?” I giggled again. “I’m seventeen, weirdo.”
He laughed his deep laugh. “Oh, someone just walked into the hotel. I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you Wednesday then, okay?”
“Yep. It’s a deal. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye.” He sounded rushed.
“Bye.” A guy totally called me from work. How romantic is that?
TEN
LIFE GOES ON
By Monday it was official. School was now in swing. It was a full-fledged spiral of activity. The initial shock of the new school year was over—as far as teachers were concerned, that is. By the afternoon my homework load had doubled. It was all I could do to finish in time to make it to the dance studio a bit early.
My first class started at 5:00. I had hoped to get there at 4:00 to review a bit before the students came. As it was, the earliest I could get there was 4:30, which gave me just enough time to stretch before a little girl came in.
“Miss Chloe,” she exclaimed as she ran to throw her arms around my knees. “You’re back!”
It was the first welcome I’d had, since Ms. Chavez’s class had already started by the time I showed up. I leaned over and hugged Gracie. “Hello, Gracie. I’ve missed you. How are you, sweetie?”
She ignored me completely as she turned back to face her mother. “See, Mom! I told you Miss Chloe would come back. I told you.”
Mrs. Littleton chuckled. “Yes, you did. Glad to see you’re back, Chloe. Gracie has really missed you.”
“It’s good to be back.” I grinned. “Okay. Come on, missy. Let’s get those slippers on.”
“I’ll be here in about an hour,” Gracie’s mom said.
Gracie and I told her goodbye before we hurried over to the bench to get ready.
Thank goodness my first class was a small, beginner one— there were only six children in the class. I actually got to review with them. By the time class was over, I had a rough idea of how I wanted to teach the intermediate class. They had continued on without me during the summer, so I used their hour to evaluate their skill levels.
Once 7:00 rolled around, I began to wonder why I had ever left the studio. The children from both classes were so excited to see me, it was like I was a celebrity or something.
The classes went by much faster than I expected them to. Before I knew it, it was time to go. I walked through the room and picked up a few stray items of clothing, then put away the stereo and the classical CDs. I grabbed my bag and put my jeans and T-shirt on over my tights and leotard. Next, I slipped my feet into my Vans and switched off the lights. I waved goodbye through the window to Mrs. Chavez as I passed the room where she was teaching adult tap dance. She quickly returned my wave.
As I walked toward the Volvo, I felt as if I had just started a new chapter in my life. I couldn’t explain the feeling other than it was like a routine had just begun.
And begun it had. I had forgotten how busy life was when I had a job. The days and weeks passed unbelievably quickly, blurring together in a sort of pleasant monotony. I mean, there was an odd day here or there, like on the Wednesday when Blake took me dancing after four-wheeling. We didn’t go anywhere— he just turned on his headlights and cranked up the radio. It was so wonderful to dance with him under the stars, even if it was on uneven ground and we laughed more than we actually danced. We stumbled and pitched into each other the whole time. It was a lot of fun and way more than made up for Collin’s attempt at a date. Other than that, due mostly to conflicting work schedules, Blake and I hadn’t been on a date again. And it was already October.
Even Taylor felt the stress of our senior year, and he buckled down more and actually completed his artwork on time. Of course, that didn’t stop him from still, well, being Taylor. Apart from the initial tease session I knew was due on that first Monday after Collin’s date, Taylor basically stopped taunting me and started boring us by bragging about Kylie Russell. But as much as that annoyed me, it was better than when he turned his attention toward me. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t until plans for our annual Halloween party were announced that Taylor really remembered that Madison, Alyssa, and I existed, other than to act as the audience to his B-rated soap opera.
The Halloween party was all my friends and I could think about. We had lost track of time due to our hectic schedules—my dance classes plus filming and sending off my ASU admission DVD, Maddi’s volleyball practice and games, and Alyssa’s orchestra practice. So we only had a week to get the invites out or there wouldn’t be enough notice for people to make it.
Not to brag or anything, but our Halloween parties had become a bit of a legend over the past few years. Well, in our crowd, that is. I’m sure none of the top tier of high school social hierarchy would’ve had much fun. Our parties are never something a reality TV show would be interested in filming. We’re normal teenagers, okay? Normal teenagers whose parents would kill us if we dared to throw a party like that.
So, way back when I first moved to Farmington, Maddi, Alyssa, and I waited and waited to be invited to one of the cool parties. All summer long we waited. And then it was like a light bulb went off and we decided, why wait for something that may never happen? Why not host our own amazing party for everyone the popular crowd did not deign to invite to their parties? It was like an underground resistance—a boycott of the “in crowd,” if you will—proof that yo
u didn’t have to be the coolest kid in school to have fun. Thus our annual themed Halloween party was born, and we’d had one for the last three years. One year, we all dressed up as pirates and went in search of real treasure. Madison’s father had us split into teams and follow clues around the city. It was so cool. We got a lot of funny looks, but we didn’t care. Maddi’s father actually buried the treasure in the sand at one of the parks and we had to find it. Crazy, huh?
This year our theme was favorite vintage TV shows, and everyone was supposed to dress up as a character. We planned to have a lot of different games and contests that would revolve around the theme.
Since the party was at my house this year, it was my turn to make the invites. I had made a sample that looked just like a vintage TV. I brought it to show the girls in art so we could have time to really look it over and decide what needed to change. After Ms. Bailey called roll, I presented it with a flourish,
“Ta-da,” I exclaimed as I dramatically dropped my attempt at a TV-shaped invitation on the table.
Madison, Alyssa, and even Taylor leaned over to see it. The TV screen read:
Madison, Alyssa, & Chloe’s Annual Halloween Party
What’s On: Vintage TV shows
Show Time: Friday, October 29, 7:00 p.m.
Station: Chloe’s house
TV Directory: 4329 Meryton Street
Channel Dial: 555-5467
Advert: RSVP to advertise you’re coming by the 19th
Alyssa gasped. “Wow, Chloe, that looks so awesome!” “I love the way you used TV language instead of the ‘where,’ ‘when,’ and ‘at’ stuff,” Madison said.
“Okay, um, what is up with the grey bobby pin and the tin foil at the tips?” Taylor asked.
“That’s supposed to be a vintage TV antenna,” I said defensively. “Get it? See, the bobby pin is spread out like a V.”
Taylor chuckled. “I think it makes it look like a Martian.”
“Don’t listen to him, Chloe,” Madison said. “Taylor’s just jealous because he’s not invited.”
Surprisingly, Alyssa came to my defense too. “Yeah. He’s a boy anyway. His opinion doesn’t count. I think it looks fabulous.”
Both girls mock-glared at Taylor until he gave up.
“All right, all right.” He grinned as he raised his hands in a “don’t shoot” gesture. “I can see when I’m out numbered.” He turned to me and half bowed. “Chloe, I apologize. On second thought, it does look like a TV—Martian.”
If I hadn’t worked so hard on the invite I would’ve thrown it at him. It was easy to see that the grey cardstock and transparent vellum wouldn’t have held up against Taylor’s big head. I decided to ignore him instead.
“So, girls,” I said pointedly, “is there anything I need to change? Any glaring mistakes?”
“Nope. It’s awesome,” Madison said. “I’ve got volleyball practice until 4:00, but I can come over after if you need some help making the rest.”
“That would be great.”
“Yeah! Since its Friday we don’t have orchestra rehearsal today, so I’m free to help right after school. We could make a party out of it if you want,” Alyssa put in.
“Cool, I could totally use the help.”
“Don’t you have a hot date with Collin Farnsworth?” Taylor asked.
“No, I don’t have a date with him,” I grumbled. “I haven’t had a date with him since last month when you saw us.”
Taylor frowned. “Oops. I thought he would’ve been smart enough to ask you out again.”
I could have smacked him. “For your information I’m seeing someone.” I smiled smugly.
“Well, obviously you’re not seeing him tonight.” Why does Taylor make me want to resort to violence? “No, but he will most likely call me, which is just as good.” I turned to face Taylor. “Some guys work for a living, you know. They can’t spend every night on the town.”
“Oh . . . oh. So that’s why I’m not invited to your party, because I spend too much time on the town? Or wait! Is it because you think I don’t have a job?”
What? Where did that come from? I glanced at Madison and Alyssa, who both attempted to ignore us as they worked on their new charcoal-pencil assignments. Completely caught off guard, I took a moment to gather my thoughts and my art supplies before I answered Taylor.
Is he really jealous we’re not asking him to the party? I thought. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he sounded a tad hurt. That can’t be true. When has he ever wanted to hang out with us?
I looked over at Taylor. I guess he had decided to work on his project, too. The tense aura around him as he gathered his supplies proved he was still agitated and wanted an answer. But I didn’t know how to approach the subject.
“Taylor?” I said hesitantly.
“Yeah?” He stopped long enough to glance at me before he picked up his charcoal pencil and began to fill in the ears of a cat he had drawn yesterday.
Okay, so apparently this wasn’t going to be that easy. I tried again. “You’re not serious, are you?”
“About what?” Taylor answered without looking up.
Sheez. “About wanting an invite.”
“I didn’t say that. I just think it’s a little rude is all, talking about a big party that I’m not invited to, right in front of me.”
His eyes narrowed a bit. “So what’s the deal? Is there a reason you never include me or my friends?”
“Are you kidding me? Are you seriously saying you would want to come?”
“Why would you think I wouldn’t?” Taylor asked.
I tried to regain my composure and defend myself. There was no way he was leaving me speechless. “The whole reason we started these parties in the first place was because you and your friends never invited us to any of your parties. So why would we think you’d want to hang out with us? It’s not like you would feel comfortable anyway.”
“What does that mean?”
“Taylor, honestly, think about it. You and your friends at our party? They would freak out. Seriously. Not one of your friends would want to hang out with us.”
“What is up with you? Are you saying I’m a snob or something?”
“Taylor, this is a costume party. People are coming dressed up like something. This isn’t just a party where people hang out and drink and stuff.”
“I know. That’s what makes it sound so random and cool.”
“Maybe you don’t understand. If someone shows up not dressed in a costume they are shown the door, as in booted out of the party. This isn’t just like a thrown-together thing. We plan for months deciding on a theme and making the decorations. We spend money on this. The last thing we want is to invite someone that will make our guests feel uncomfortable.”
Taylor looked hurt. “You think I’m that guy? The one that’ll make everyone else uncomfortable?”
“No. I don’t.” I tried to smile. “You’re fine, Taylor. I mean everybody likes you. Seriously. But you’re asking us to include you and your friends. You definitely haven’t thought this through.”
“Sure I have,” he replied. “I’ve thought about it for three years.”
Why is this so hard for him to comprehend? “Let me try again.” I took a deep breath. “Kylie. You honestly think Kylie Russell would be happy dressing up and attending a party we have put together?”
“Yes.” He looked me right in the eyes.
“Really?” I stared back until he gave in.
“Okay. So probably not. But why wouldn’t you ask us—at least give us the opportunity to go?”
“So I can waste a perfectly good invitation? I think not.”
“I had no idea you were so judgmental. What gives?”
“Me, judgmental? Taylor, what gives with you? Why harp on this? You don’t really want to come to a party I’m hosting. You don’t want to hang out with me, or be my friend. You would die of boredom within the first ten minutes. What is up with you? Why are you so intent on—on driving me nuts? Stop
worrying about stuff you don’t even really care about, please.”
“You don’t know what I care about. You can’t just make an assumption like that. You don’t even know me.”
“Taylor, yes, I do. I know exactly who you are and who you choose to hang with. All I have to do is look at your long list of girlfriends. Every one of them is like a cookie-cutter mold.”
“They are not!” he said angrily.
“Oh no?” I grinned, glad I was able to get under his skin. “Let’s ask someone, shall we? Who would know you better than anyone else in this room?” My eyes settled on Zack’s sister, Emmalee Bradford. Perfect. “Emma,” I called. Madison and Alyssa both looked up, obviously shocked at my nerve.
“Why are you doing this?” Taylor was clearly upset.
“To prove a point. Watch.” I smirked as Emma practically ran over to our table.
“Yes?” she said, smiling right at Taylor.
“Taylor and I were having a little discussion, and we need your expertise.”
“Really?” She giggled and flipped her hair.
“Well, since I figure you know Taylor more than anyone else in this room, due to the fact that he has spent so much time at your house, could you please list the qualities he looks for in a girl?”
ELEVEN
PERFECT GIRLFRIEND
“Oh my gosh. Are you serious?” Emma wrenched her eyes away from Taylor. “Like, that is so easy!”
“Emma, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Taylor said.
Taylor is so naive if he seriously thinks Emma would throw away a chance at getting his attention all to herself.
Emma giggled again. “Don’t worry, I want to. Besides, you’re forgetting I’m the one who wrote it down for you guys last summer, remember?”
I thought Taylor had seen a ghost, his face was so white. Apparently, he did remember.
“You actually made a list of qualities Taylor wants in a girl?” I asked sweetly. She probably has the thing memorized.
“Yeah. I wrote a separate list down for Taylor and Zack.”