Prom Ever After

by Dona Sarkar, Caridad Ferrer, Deidre Berry

  There was a mile-long list of boys I could have called to replace Chad as my prom date, but none of them had the ability to get under Chad’s skin like Julian did. Julian was someone Chad couldn’t stand the sight of, which is exactly why I chose him. Those two were so much alike, you’d think they would be best buddies, but they couldn’t be in the same room together for more than ten minutes without getting into an altercation.

  Julian was his school’s version of Chad. Brookfield High played against Glendale Academy several times a year in various sports, and those were the games everyone was excited to see because Julian and Chad were each other’s most formidable opponents. They were insanely competitive against each other, both admitting that they hated losing to each other more than they loved to win.

  Showing up to prom with Julian on my arm was sure to make Chad insanely jealous, and would hopefully cause him to see the error of his ways. I couldn’t wait!

  After talking to Julian, I gave some thought to what Chad had said about me earlier in the day outside Mr. Baisden’s classroom. Was I really as self-absorbed as he claimed I was? Had my parents’ divorce really turned me into such a bad person that my boyfriend/best friend couldn’t stand to be around me anymore? Or had I always been that way, but Chad had been too blinded by love to see it?

  I’ve had that “mean girl” accusation hurled at me plenty of times, but it was always done by random people who didn’t really know the real me. Chad was the first person I knew and loved who had ever said that directly to my face. True, I have a mean streak that you don’t want to mess with, but then again, most people do. If that was what Chad really thought of me, then it must be true to some degree because that boy speaks his mind, if nothing else.

  I lay there on my queen-size four-poster bed staring up at the ceiling for the longest time. The thought of being a terrible person sank me so low, I felt that I needed to do something to redeem myself. I pulled an invitation out of my purse and read the details.

  You Are Cordially Invited

  Please join me as I celebrate my nomination for prom queen

  on Friday, May 18th

  The Home of

  Judy Reeves

  1783 Werner Road

  Dallas, TX

  7:00 p.m.–11:00 p.m.

  Be there, or be square! :)

  DEANNA PARKER

  That week at school had been so wild and crazy, I don’t think I’d ever been happier to see the weekend roll around. Prom was one week away, and a party was exactly what I needed to unwind. For the last two days, Judy Reeves had gone around school passing out fancy invitations along with Number 2 pencils that were engraved with “Vote for Judy Reeves for Prom Queen!”

  The party was the talk of the school, but I can’t say that people were talking about it in a good way. Not that it mattered. Regardless of who else would or would not be there, I had promised Judy I would show up, so that was that. Done deal.

  Not long after Michael left, I took a quick shower and changed into my favorite maxi dress and a pair of thong sandals. I took the time to curl my hair, which I rarely do, and even threw on a little makeup.

  Judy lived in a modest house on a dead-end street not far from Brookfield High. Trish, April and I got to the Reeves’ around 8:00 p.m., and were immediately a little creeped out.

  For starters, a black funeral hearse was the only vehicle parked in the driveway, and there was no indication at all that there was a party going on. There were no decorations, no loud music thumping from inside and no people milling around out front. It was literally like a ghost town.

  “Are you sure this is the right house?” I asked Trish as she parked her mother’s Kia truck and turned off the ignition.

  Trish pulled out her invitation and double-checked the address. “1783 Werner Road... Yep, this is it.”

  “I hope this doesn’t turn out to be a waste of makeup and a nice outfit,” April said, sounding a little miffed.

  My heart sank for Judy. The fact that no one else was there an hour after the party started was not good. But since we were there, I decided to make the best of it. “Well, it’s still early,” I said cheerfully. “Come on, you guys, let’s go turn it up!”

  AUBREY GARRETT

  I make it a point to arrive to parties fashionably late, because usually, things don’t get crunk until it’s close to closing time, anyway.

  It was a little after 9:00 p.m. when I arrived at Judy’s house. There were a couple of cars in the driveway, so I parked my Jeep on the street and teetered up to the house in my four-inch pumps. I was concentrating on trying not to fall, because the driveway was on such a steep slope that it was almost like climbing a mountain.

  I rang the doorbell and waited a couple of minutes. When no one came to the door, which I thought was odd for someone having a party, I eased the door open and let myself in.

  “Hello?” I called out, but I didn’t see anyone except an old lady who had apparently fallen asleep on the couch while watching an old episode of Seinfeld.

  I heard music and voices coming from the basement, so I followed my ears and walked downstairs into a nightmare.

  Deanna Parker and a handful of other kids were looking on in horror as Judy had a full-blown meltdown.

  “Two hundred invitations and less than ten people showed up!” Judy screamed tearfully. “Face it, Mom, I’m a loser!”

  “Oh, honey, don’t say that!” Mrs. Reeves said, trying to calm her down.

  “It’s true! And I’m so tired of trying to fit in and be accepted by kids who are only ever going to see me as the girl who came to school smelling like cat pee! And did you know that the truly popular girls at school only invite me to functions on occasion so that they can have someone to laugh at? Huh? Did you?”

  Judy was in such a state of hysterics I thought she might need medical attention.

  Mr. Reeves grabbed his daughter by the shoulders and shook her. “Get a hold of yourself right now, and stop it!” he said sternly.

  “Yes, please stop carrying on like this. It’s not eleven o’clock yet, and people are still coming....” Mrs. Reeves said, pointing me out to Judy. “See?”

  Judy whirled around and chuckled when she saw me standing there.

  “Were your ears burning?” she asked me. “Because I was just talking about you!”

  She burst into even more tears, and then ran past me out of the room.

  It was a truly sad affair. Me and the other guests stayed for about twenty minutes hoping Judy would come back downstairs, but eventually, her parents apologized and said that the party was officially over. I left there feeling so bad for Judy, and for everything I’d ever said or done to add to her misery.

  One particular incident that stood out in my mind happened freshman year. I had invited Judy over to a sleepover, and just like she’d said, it was solely for the purpose of live entertainment. I didn’t ostracize her or treat her badly like some of the other girls, but I didn’t defend Judy or make them stop, either. Looking back on it I could clearly see that those are the games that mean girls play, so maybe I was one after all.

  I didn’t feel good about that revelation.

  Driving home from Judy’s house, I made a vow to change my attitude and my ways, effective immediately. As my science teacher Mr. Faulker always said, “Don’t make excuses, make adjustments.”

  Fifteen minutes later I was back at home, but the house was almost unrecognizable. It had been splattered with dozens of eggs, and the bushes, trees and even the flower beds were all covered with tons of toilet paper and Silly String. It was a mess of huge proportions.

  I pulled into the driveway and my headlights revealed several disguised bandits. They all flipped me the middle finger and then ran to a blue Toyota parked across the street.

  One of them yelled, “Team Deanna, beyotch!�
�� Then the driver revved the car engine and peeled off down the street.

  I couldn’t tell who those kids were because they were wearing yellow bandannas around their faces, and I was shocked to see they had spray-painted “#TeamDeanna” across the garage door.

  Eleven

  DEANNA PARKER

  There are no words to explain what went down at that party. Judy was fine when my friends and I first got there. In fact, she was the poster girl for perky, but when hardly anyone else showed up after us, her spirits dampened and her mood soured. The music, snacks and refreshments were all on point, so the few of us who were there were having fun until Judy just snapped.

  “Why do people hate me so much?” she screamed, and started throwing meatballs and chicken wings against the wall. Her parents came running downstairs, but even they couldn’t stop her ranting and raving. It went on for about ten minutes, and was really hard to watch.

  From what I gathered, Judy had fully expected for it to be considered the party of the year. But when only eight people bothered to come, it was obviously too much for her to take.

  Resilience was one of Judy’s strong points, and I left her house hoping she would bounce back from this latest episode as quickly as she normally did.

  Later that night my cell phone started ringing off the hook with back-to-back calls and texts about a certain video that had gone viral within just a couple of hours after being posted. I clicked on a link and watched eleven minutes of footage that showed a carload of kids egging and TP-ing Aubrey’s house.

  Aubrey lived in a five-bedroom mini-mansion in the suburbs. The neighborhood was exclusive to the families of lawyers, doctors and other professionals who made big money. So more than likely, things like that don’t happen very often out in that neck of the woods.

  Seconds after the pranksters finish the job, Aubrey’s Jeep pulls up to the house and whoever’s filming catches her shocked expression before they drive off.

  My heart dropped down to my toes. I knew then that the crap had officially hit the fan.

  It was a typical prank, but I didn’t think it was funny, especially since they’d tagged the house with #TeamDeanna. But even if they hadn’t, I still would’ve known who was behind the prank because I recognized the getaway car.

  “She had it coming,” Kristen said, when I called her for an explanation. “And trust me, as riled up as some of those kids were, Aubrey’s lucky that was all that happened last night!”

  Kristen had wanted revenge against #TeamAubrey for destroying our campaign materials, and she had jumped in that blue Toyota of hers and gotten it. And she was unapologetic about it, too. Kristen and I talked for almost an hour, but there was no getting through to her that the mayhem she had orchestrated was wrong. After talking to her, I hung up the phone unable to believe that the nastiness had gotten to this level.

  There was a certain segment of #TeamDeanna that was out of control, and Kristen was a part of it. I didn’t approve, but in their eyes, this movement belonged to them just as much as it belonged to me. Maybe even more. It was much bigger than me now, and as much as I tried, I could not control the monster that I had created.

  AUBREY GARRETT

  I was mad, but my mother was livid. When she saw the mess that had been made out in the yard, she demanded to know who #TeamDeanna was, and what reason they had to vandalize her house.

  “It’s Deanna Parker and her crew,” I said. “She’s one of the girls I’m running against for prom queen.”

  “Well, this Deanna needs to learn that decent folks don’t go around damaging other people’s personal property,” she said, picking up the phone and punching in a number.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “The police, that’s who!”

  Minutes later, two officers from the Dallas Police Department were knocking on our front door. The policemen watched the video on my mother’s iPad. When it was over, one of them shrugged and said, “I’m sorry, ma’am, but other than filling out a report, there’s not much else we can do. We can’t go out and arrest anybody because we don’t know their identities, and we can’t make out the license plate on the car.”

  “In other words,” the other officer added, “there’s no solid proof that this ‘Deanna’ was even involved in this occurrence. It could have been anybody...”

  I had to admit that he was right. I left Judy’s house before Deanna did, so there was no way she could have beaten me home and had enough time to do that much damage before I got there. Whoever had done the deed had to have been out there for at least forty-five minutes.

  “Deanna Parker was halfway across town at a party when this all happened, so there’s no way that she could have been in two places at the same time,” I said.

  Mom looked at me as if I had betrayed her. “Now you tell me?”

  The officers filled out a police report, took a few pictures and left.

  Afterward, my mother called Hector, our handyman, to come clean up the mess, and then called Principal Ellerbee at home. They talked for a few minutes, and when she hung up, she seemed satisfied that the incident would at least be taken care of on his end.

  * * *

  That video was the talk of the school on Monday morning. Everyone had seen it, and it seemed that they were all laughing at me, which was a feeling I wasn’t used to. I had never been made the butt of a joke like that before, and it made me sympathize with Judy Reeves and kids like her even more.

  First period, 8:07 a.m.

  Ms. Davidson was in the process of passing out geometry quizzes when Principal Ellerbee’s voice came through over the loudspeaker. “Deanna Parker and Aubrey Garrett, please report to the main office.... I repeat, Deanna Parker and Aubrey Garrett, please report to the main office!”

  The entire class said “Ooohhhh!” really loud, as they always do when they assume someone is in serious trouble.

  “Turn your quiz over and leave it on your desk, Aubrey,” Ms. Davidson said. “You can finish when you get back.”

  I got up to leave the room, and on the way out, I overheard a few snickers as I closed the door behind me.

  To my knowledge, I hadn’t done anything wrong, but making that trip to the main office still felt like a walk of shame to me. And my classmates’ assumptions that I’d done something wrong didn’t make me feel any better.

  Deanna was already there. She sat in one of those blue plastic chairs, nervously biting her fingernails, but she stopped when she looked up and saw me. The awkwardness between us was so thick, you probably couldn’t even cut it with a chain saw. We didn’t speak to each other or make eye contact, just sat and waited for a couple of minutes until Principal Ellerbee emerged from his office and waved us in.

  “Miss Parker...Miss Garrett...come in and have a seat,” he said, then sat on the edge of his desk and got straight to the point.

  “I’ve been brought up to speed about the fact that there has been quite a bit of unethical behavior throughout this race for prom queen. Threats, intimidation, and defacing posters and private property are all against the very nature of what being prom queen is all about. So if these activities don’t stop altogether, you both will be disqualified, and your names will be withdrawn from consideration.”

  “But I didn’t do any of those things!” Deanna protested, looking as if she was on the verge of tears.

  “I don’t know who’s responsible for doing what, even though I have heard rumors,” he said, sternly. “Either way, you are both still guilty by association, because if it wasn’t you directly, then it was certainly members of your quote-unquote ‘teams’ who did the dirty work. Now, this whole thing has gotten completely out of hand, so I suggest the two of you get the word out to cut the crap...or else!”

  “How are we supposed to do that?” I asked. “Lots of people are claiming Team Aubrey, but I don’
t know exactly who they all are.”

  Principal Ellerbee peered at me over his glasses for a few seconds, and then said, “Okay, I’ll make it easy for you.” He walked over to the PA system and made yet another announcement. “Attention members of Team Aubrey and Team Deanna! Some of you have directly violated rule number 412 in the prom handbook, which clearly states that it is against campaign rules to deface, destroy or remove another candidates’ campaign materials. Pranks on, or off, school property are also considered violations, and if there are any continuing infractions the offenders will be suspended for three days and barred from attending prom...”

  I don’t know if my ears were playing tricks on me, or if I actually heard a collective groan echo throughout the entire school.

  Suspension? No prom? What a wake-up call! Stakes were higher now than they had been since this thing started. It wasn’t just my butt and Deanna’s on the line anymore, but a whole lot of other butts, too.

  DEANNA PARKER

  One thing that never fails to get me mad enough to cry is being accused of something that I personally did not do. I understood that I was considered guilty by association, but that didn’t make the pill any easier to swallow. Principal Ellerbee was right to step in and try to quash the beef, but I didn’t know if his threats were enough to stop the madness. So just in case the message wasn’t already crystal clear, I called #TeamDeanna together after school for an emergency meeting in the multipurpose room.