“Sorry, guys, but it’s just not that important to me,” I told them. “I’m more concerned with the next phase of my life.”
“Well, the prom court assembly is in three days, so you have until then to decide if you’re going to accept or decline the nomination,” April informed me. “So just promise us that you will at least take some time and really think it over.”
I promised them I would, but at the time I had every intention of declining the nomination. I’m not a follower. I’ve never been one to tag behind the crowd, and hopefully I never will be. My friends, of all people, know that I try to stay away from things that are negative and unproductive. But none of us knew that the prom-queen scenario would get so negative, so fast.
The trash-talking began immediately.
I was on my way to sixth-period biology class when Ethan Cohen, the school videographer, stopped me in the hallway with his video camera rolling. “Hey, Deanna, you were nominated for prom queen earlier today. What do you think of the betting pool that has Aubrey winning this thing by a landslide?”
I was humiliated, but tried not to let it show on my face. “It’s no big deal,” I said right into the camera. “People are entitled to waste money on whatever they choose, so to each their own.”
Ethan’s brow wrinkled. He looked disappointed that I hadn’t given him something more controversial to stir the pot and add to the rumors that were already spreading like wildfire.
I’d overheard lots of things throughout the day, but to sum it all up: Tiffany Boyd, who had a reputation for being a big-time prankster, had somehow cheated her way onto the ballot to incite prom anarchy and make a mockery of the whole thing. Judy Reeves was only nominated for comic relief, and the only title I had the chance of winning was “queen of the geek squad.”
Ouch! That stung a bit, and was super rude, but the more I thought about it the funnier it became. Queen of the geek squad... Yeah, I’ll take that. One thing to know about me is that I don’t view the words nerd or geek as insults. So-called geeks are the ones who build social networks, cure diseases and otherwise change the world for the better. So go ahead and call me a geeky nerd all you want. I don’t mind.
But what did bother me about the trash-talking was the common belief that Aubrey Garrett, and only Aubrey, was fit to be queen.
Oh, really? I had a problem with that. A HUGE problem. Just because I don’t cake makeup on my face every day or walk around like I own the world, doesn’t make me any less worthy than Aubrey, who actually should’ve been running for the title “queen of mean.”
Seriously, nothing about her impresses me. Not that she could pass for Meagan Good’s younger sister, or even the fact that her parents gave her a brand-new Jeep for her sixteenth birthday.
My dad’s being a recruiter for the United States Marine Corps is the reason that I’ve been to six different schools in the last ten years. Before moving to Dallas two years ago, my family (Mom, Dad and big sister Erica) lived in Germany, Hawaii, San Diego, Omaha and North Carolina. Throughout all that traveling and moving around from place to place, I have never met anyone quite like Aubrey Garrett. That girl is truly a piece of work...and I don’t mean that in a good way.
There are lots of words I could use to describe Aubrey, but if I could choose only one word to sum her up best it would be superficial. You just shouldn’t look down on people who don’t have what you have, or dress exactly the way that you dress. At least that’s what my parents taught me, but hey, that’s Aubrey Garrett for you.
Believe it or not, the two of us were actually friends for a short time during sophomore year, back when I first transferred to Brookfield High. At that time, I tutored Aubrey in math, and we became fast friends until Aubrey suddenly stopped talking to me and started passing me in the halls as if I’d somehow developed the superpower of invisibility. Aubrey never had the guts to tell me why she defriended me, but I can only guess that she buckled under the pressure from her mean-girl group of friends who labeled me as “not cool enough” to hang out with. Not that it bothered me. I couldn’t have cared less, actually, because by that time I’d realized that Aubrey doesn’t really want genuine friends. She wants groupies—people who suck up to her and constantly tell her how great she is. And if those groupies act, talk and dress exactly like Aubrey, then that’s even better.
I wasn’t interested in playing that game, because I for one was nobody’s groupie. Least of all Aubrey Garrett’s.
Two
AUBREY GARRETT
Chad knew how hectic my day had been and that I needed to unwind, so he took me to Taco Hut after school to celebrate our nominations for prom king and queen. I absolutely love Taco Hut. It’s one of our favorite restaurants because they serve the best Tex-Mex in the whole city of Dallas, and it’s also where Chad officially asked me to be his girlfriend back during sophomore year. We have been dating for two years, but have known each other since we were little kids. Not only did we attend the same church, but our mothers were members of the same professional women’s organization, so we always wound up running into each other at some of the same high-society events like art auctions and fashion-show luncheons. So with seeing each other so much both in and outside of school, it was inevitable that Chad and I would eventually become a couple.
Right before we were about to dig into our chicken enchilada platters, Chad raised his glass of strawberry soda in the air and said, “Congrats, babe, not only are you the queen of my heart, but now you’re going to be the queen of Brookfield High... All hail the queen!”
I smiled and giggled, thankful to have a boyfriend who was so thoughtful and romantic. I tapped my glass against Chad’s and said, “To the queen and king!”
“Hear, hear!” he said drily, taking his nomination in stride as he does with most things that have nothing to do with sports. In addition to being good-looking, Chad is also a jock. But not just any old jock, he’s the ultimate jock who dominates in every sport he plays. Not only does Chad run track, but he’s also captain of the football team and is Brookfield High’s leading scorer on the basketball court. If there were a Wikipedia page defining superstar high-school athletes, Chad Campbell would be used as the prime example.
“So how’s your dress coming along?” Chad asked, shoveling a forkful of Spanish rice into his mouth.
“It should be ready any day now,” I said, referring to the gown that was being custom-made just for me by Jules Jamison, an awesome designer who made a huge name for himself after designing a dress for the first lady of the United States.
Every girl wants her prom to be over-the-top amazing, and everything starts with the dress. There was no way I would even consider wearing a dress straight off the rack, so six months ago, my Mom and I traveled all the way to New York to meet with Jules.
I didn’t know about the other girls, but my dress was going to be fifty shades of fabulous. It was a yellow satin sweetheart gown with a full skirt, and a bodice embellished with hand-beaded multicolored jewels. Not only was it gorgeous, it was everything!
Having a glamorous mother and a father who is a successful engineer has its privileges, so I was looking forward to having the most perfect prom experience ever, and the price tag wasn’t cheap.
To go along with the dress, Chad and I had these awesome plans to rent a Hummer limo with three of my closest friends and their dates, so it would be a total of eight. We were going to start the night off at Mia’s house for a pre-party where we’d take tons of pictures before heading off to dinner at a fancy restaurant. After dinner, we’d hit up the prom for a few hours and then go to my house for an all-night after-party.
It was going to be the ideal prom, and a very expensive night.
“So are you going back to New York to try it on or have it altered, or anything?”
“No,” I replied. “They have all of my measurements and everything, so the
y’re just going to ship it here by FedEx when it’s done.”
Chad shook his head and snickered. “You’re so high-maintenance.”
“Yeah, but you love it, though,” I teased.
“Yeah, I do,” he said, dipping a tortilla chip in salsa. “But if we get married one day, I don’t know if I’ll be able to afford you.”
I thought he was just kidding until I looked up and saw that he had a concerned look on his face. Like the thought that he couldn’t afford me really worried him. “Aww, that’s so sweet.” It touched my heart so much that I leaned over the table and kissed him on the lips. “Don’t worry, when the time comes for us to get married, you’ll be a professional athlete raking in tons of moolah, so affording me will not be an issue.”
“I sure hope so....” he said, still looking a little unsure. My poor little Tink Tink. The week before, Chad had gotten word that his basketball scholarship to Georgetown University had fallen through because his grades weren’t up to par, and he’d been down in the dumps ever since, worried that no other schools would want him.
I’m not the best at consoling people, so I thought it was best to steer the conversation in a lighter direction.
“So what about your tux and all that other good stuff?” I asked, helping myself to a heaping spoonful of his corn cake.
“Everything is all set,” he assured me. “All you have to be concerned about is looking fly and having fun on prom night.”
“Done and done!” I smiled, relieved that he had things under control on his end.
We left Taco Hut and walked hand in hand back to my black Jeep Cherokee.
“When are you finally gonna let me drive this thing?” Chad asked, playfully trying to wrestle the keys from my hand.
“Umm, it’ll be three days after never,” I joked. “I promise!”
Chad had been dying to drive my truck since my parents surprised me with it last year for my 16th birthday, but the vehicle came with the stipulation that I could never let anyone else drive it. Not even Chad, whose own parents flat-out refused to buy him a car until he graduated from high school.
As soon as we got in the Jeep, Chad pulled me close and attacked me with kisses all over my face. “I’m so lucky,” he said as he breathed in the scent of my hair.
Chad was always telling me all the time how lucky he was to have me, but I thought I was the lucky one. He really was every girl’s dream, but the downside to having such a keeper is that tons of other girls want him, too. Even though everyone knows that I’m Chad’s girlfriend, other girls are constantly throwing themselves at him and trying to sabotage our relationship. We’ve broken up and gotten back together more times than I could count or remember, but somehow, we always ended up finding our way back to each other.
* * *
I made it home and found my mother in the living room surrounded by posters that read AUBREY GARRETT FOR PROM QUEEN and VOTE FOR AUBREY!
I had texted her earlier in the day when the nominations came out, and apparently she’d taken the news and ran with it all the way to Hobby Lobby. There were posters of every size and color, all of them with my smiling face on the middle of them, and with a sparkly tiara on top of my head. My mom works as a buyer for Nordstrom, but drawing and graphic design are among her many talents.
“Thank you, Mommy,” I said, examining her handiwork. “These are so fabulous... I love them!”
“You’re welcome,” she said, looking up at me from where she sat on the floor. “And I’m glad you like them. I’m going to take them down to the printer tonight and have them laminated. That way you and your friends can put them up before school starts tomorrow morning.”
I frowned. “That means I have to get to school at least an hour early in order to get all these up before first period.”
“Hey,” she shrugged. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, if she wants to win prom queen.”
My mother has always taken an interest in my activities and supported me in everything I do, but when the divorce became final a few months ago, she morphed into supermom and started to overcompensate for the fact that my father had drifted further and further away from me since he’d left, despite giving me his word that we would remain close.
I really hadn’t planned on doing any over-the-top campaigning, because that’s how sure I was of victory, but my mother convinced me that politicking was necessary because it would generate goodwill among my classmates and prove that I deserved to win.
“You can’t take anything for granted, Aubrey, especially your competition,” she warned me. “Confidence is great, but overconfidence can lead to a downfall.”
She was officially in prom-mom mode. I’d watched her do the same thing last year after my sister, Angela, was nominated for prom queen. Mom had orchestrated the campaign from A to Z. She single-handedly created the posters, baked five hundred cupcakes and produced a personalized video with Angela listing all the reasons she deserved to win the title.
It was a thrilling moment when Angela returned home from prom wearing the crown. All of my mother’s hard work had paid off then, just as it would with me. I almost felt sorry for those other girls, because they had no idea what they were in for.
DEANNA PARKER
I got to school the next day and saw that Aubrey’s face was everywhere. Literally. She had littered the entire school inside and out, with what seemed like hundreds of tacky color posters of herself, wearing that smug look of entitlement that irks me to no end. What a narcissist! You would’ve thought she was campaigning for some important political office instead of prom queen, a title that holds little to no importance in the real world.
While I still didn’t take my nomination seriously, Judy Reeves took hers seriously enough for the both of us. After lunch, she ran up to me in the hallway and hugged me so hard we both almost fell over. I was surprised by her display of affection, because Judy and I weren’t tight like that. I mean, we had a couple of Advanced Placement classes together, but that’s about it.
“Congratulations, Deanna! Isn’t it great? Aren’t you excited about the nomination?” Judy grinned, with something orange stuck in her braces, which I guessed might have been the buttered carrots that had just been served for lunch in the cafeteria.
“No, I’m not really all that excited.” I sighed. “I’m so over all the hoopla already, but it sure looks like you’re enjoying it.”
“Gosh, are you kidding?” she gushed. “This is the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me in my life!”
Judy looked the happiest that I’ve ever seen her look, and I was happy for her, even though I’d heard through the grapevine that her nomination was just another extremely cruel prank that some of the kids at Brookfield enjoyed playing on her.
Poor Judy. You come to school one time smelling like cat pee, and they never let you live it down. It certainly didn’t help that her father was a mortician down at Overland Funeral Home, so most kids considered Judy creepy by association. It’s mean, and totally unfair to ostracize someone based partly on what their parents do for a living, but hey, it’s high school. What are you gonna do?
As Judy and I were talking, Eric Taylor, one of the cutest guys in school, walked up to us and asked, “Hey Judy, will you go to prom with me? Pretty please?”
Judy blushed and smiled as if one of her secret dreams had just come true. As soon as she said, “Yes!” Eric yelled, “Psyche!” and then ran off down the hallway with his friends, all of them laughing hysterically.
“I’m sorry about that,” I said to Judy, feeling as bad for her as if it had happened to me.
She shrugged it off and said, “No, it’s okay....”
But I could tell that Eric’s cruelty had crushed her. I’d seen the tears that welled up in her blue eyes, but then were gone in an instant. She had literally sucked it up and moved on
from the incident within 8.5 seconds, which was amazing to me. Had it been me, or anyone else, we probably would’ve had to go home for the rest of the day to recuperate, but Judy Reeves was resilient if nothing else. Had to give her bonus points for that.
“So anyway,” Judy continued, as if the awkward incident with Eric had never happened. “Aubrey’s probably going to win, but it really does feel great just to be nominated, doesn’t it?”
Before I could answer “No!” I saw Aubrey coming down the hall with her squad of minions: Jessica Hendricks, Kimberly Harris and Mia Carson. They were walking the way they always did. Side by side, and shoulder to shoulder, which forced people to get out of their way or risk getting run over. The four of them stopped right in the middle of the hallway, lined up in formation, and started doing the type of step-routine that sorority girls do.
“KA-BOOM! Team Aubrey just stepped in the room, filling all the haters with doom and gloom... Oh! We forgot to mention, when it comes to our girl there’s no competition! A-U-B-R-E-Y, there’s no one who’s quite as fly as Aubrey...yeah, yeah...as Aubrey! She’s super tight and extra lean, so vote for Au-brey for prom queen... Yes, Aubrey... Vote, vote, for Aubrey!”
Kids who had stopped and gathered around cheered and applauded Aubrey and her crew, and Judy cheered loudest of all.
I, on the other hand, refused to clap for that mess. Instead, I snickered and shook my head, because it was typical Aubrey Garrett. Tooting her own horn was a skill she had mastered to perfection. Since I’ve been in this town, and at this school, I’ve learned that everything really is bigger in Texas, including Aubrey Garrett’s ego and overinflated sense of self-importance. Not only was she a legend in her own mind, but she also reminded me of a piano with only one flat, and very off-key, note.
Aubrey locked eyes with me, and clearly noticed the unimpressed look on my face. “Uh-oh, hater alert!” she said, pointing me out to her friends.
Prom Ever After Page 17