After all, Chance wasn’t an option. Yeah, she had a crush on him, but she couldn’t hold on to an unrequited crush forever. He didn’t do romantic love, so she should let him go and embrace the next thing that came along.
That next thing just so happened to be Drake.
The only problem was that she didn’t have a costume for the party, but she knew the exact person to help her out there.
* * *
IT WAS TWO days before Halloween when Jenny found herself walking down the History hall after school, looking into every classroom she passed. She knew the Student Advisory Board met somewhere on this floor, she just had to find it. She knew she was in the right place when she heard voices coming from the Psychology classroom. She waited patiently outside for the meeting to end before barging in.
Kelsey was at the front of the classroom, her backpack on top of the teacher’s desk as she packed away her stuff.
“Kelsey.” Jenny tried to get her friend’s attention. “Kelsey, I need you.”
Kelsey didn’t even miss a beat. Her hand flew to her chest with a dramatic flourish. “Oh, Jennifer, this is so sudden, but I’m sure we can make it work!”
Jenny shot her an annoyed look. “Not like that, Kelse. I need your help picking out a Halloween costume.”
Kelsey dropped her hand, her face full of mock disappointment. “And you got my hopes up and everything.”
Jenny crossed the room, shoving her hands into her front pockets. “I’m going to Leslie’s Halloween party.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“You’ve heard?” But she hadn’t told anyone, and she couldn’t picture Drake texting Kelsey.
Kelsey nodded, her blond curls bouncing as she did so. “I saw him ask you out. The whole school knows. You know what kind of legendary dream boy Drake is.”
Jenny blanched. “Yay, even more pressure.” She hadn’t realized that agreeing to go with Drake was going to be such a big ordeal.
Kelsey studied her friend, her face full of concern. “Are you going to be all right? I know parties aren’t really your style.…”
“I’ll be fine,” Jenny hastened to assure her. “I mean, I’m slightly terrified, but I’m also kind of excited to go to a real high school party like in the movies.”
Kelsey shouldered her backpack and shoved her hands into the pockets of her oversized Razorbacks hoodie. “Jenny, real life is nothing like the movies. But, yes, I will take you costume shopping. I never see you anymore, not since Masters became your ride to school.”
* * *
AN HOUR LATER, they found themselves rummaging through the racks of a popup Halloween store, unhappy with everything they found.
“So,” Kelsey said as she pulled a costume from the rack. “Do you want to be a sexy nurse or a sexy butterfly? Ohh,” she said, pointing to a costume on display. “What about a sexy crayon?”
Jenny grimaced. It had been like this at every place they’d gone: The store didn’t carry adult costumes, all the costumes had been picked over, or it was like shopping at a lingerie store.
“You know I really don’t mind all the sexy costumes,” Kelsey went on, still flipping through the rack. “For most girls, Halloween is the only time they can dress sexily, so more power to them. But, like, don’t make it the only option.”
Jenny wasn’t having any luck with the rack she was searching through, either. “Maybe I can go as a nun.”
“Oh!” Kelsey exclaimed, pulling another costume from the rack. “You could be a sexy nun!”
“Oh, yes, my dream costume, with equal amounts sex appeal and blasphemy.”
Jenny hated this store, with the Halloween decorations that shrieked when people walked past. It smelled like the inside of a cheap rubber mask, and children were running around everywhere, screaming and playing with fake swords and axes.
“Maybe I’m not meant to find a costume. Maybe it’s a sign that I shouldn’t go.”
This was supposed to be easy, wasn’t it? People in shows or books always found the perfect costume right off the bat, one that hugged them in all the right places and was unique to them, and would turn every head. Why wasn’t it like that? “We should give up. I should just wear every piece of black I own and call myself a witch.”
Kelsey paused, her mouth slightly parted in thought. “You know,” she said at last, “that’s not a bad idea. I mean, not all the black you own, but a simple black dress and a witch hat.”
“It’d be better than this.” Jenny held up a sexy hot-dog costume.
“No, no,” Kelsey was saying, scrutinizing the costume. “I think the hot dog might be a winner.”
“No.” Jenny tried to keep a straight face, but she couldn’t.
They found the perfect witch dress at Forever 21, a high-low number with long willowy sleeves, the darkness of it making Jenny’s pale skin pop.
“Do you want me to go to the party, too?” Kelsey asked as she drove Jenny back home. “Keep in mind that I don’t want to, but I’ll be there if you need me.”
“You’re always so charming, Kelse,” Jenny told her, looking down at the bag in her lap. “And, no, I’ll have Drake.”
Kelsey glanced over at her, unsure. “Okay,” she said at last. “If you say you’ll be okay, then I believe you.”
The more Jenny thought about the party, the more unnerved she became. She was only comfortable when she thought of it in terms of clichéd high school experiences. As long as she viewed it through that lens, she was fine, because she knew what to expect. It’s going to be exactly like in the movies, she told herself.
* * *
SHE FELT LIKE throwing up as she sat in her living room, watching the seconds until Drake was supposed to come pick her up tick by. She nearly talked herself out of it a thousand times. And, God, her palms wouldn’t stop sweating. What if Drake got there and grabbed her hand and was disgusted by how clammy it was? That thought made her sweat even more.
Why did I think I could do this?
Then her phone was buzzing and Drake was there to get her. It’s too late to back out now, she told herself.
She grabbed her purse, donned her witch’s hat, and caught sight of her sleek dress in the foyer mirror. She paused as she looked herself over, fingering the smooth material of her dress. She hardly recognized herself. Who was this girl in the mirror, and where had Jenny Wessler gone?
She had always admired the girls on TV who got dressed up and went on dates—the type who thrived on social interaction and always said the right thing at the right time. That had always seemed so unobtainable for her, and yet here she was going for it. For the first time, happiness seemed like it might be a real tangible possibility for her, not just an abstract concept.
I can do this. It’s no big deal, and I can do this.
Drake was standing outside his car, propped against it like Jake Ryan in Sixteen Candles. He wore a long gray coat and red scarf: the perfect Bender. It was as if he knew exactly the way to make her comfortable. He opened the door for her, beckoning her forward with a flourish.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his grayish-blue eyes lingering on her exposed legs.
He drove a car that was as spotless inside as it was outside. There were no rips in the upholstery or stains on the floorboard. He ruled the radio, plugging in his phone and refusing to leave the driveway until he found the perfect song. It would take some getting used to, Jenny figured, but she could do it. Besides, it seemed very Drake. He gave off the wild rock star image, but he definitely came from privilege and liked things just so. He was organized under the purposeful disorganization, the type of boy who would spend hours making sure his hair was the right level of elegantly disheveled.
Being next to him in the car was a lot like sitting next to him at lunch. It was only as she came to terms with this that she realized just how much attention Drake had been paying her. He always looked right at her, talking directly to her and only her. There was something exciting about his eyes. She felt like they could see
right through her if she gave them the chance.
“Don’t worry, okay?” Drake told her after she admitted it was her first party. “These things are supposed to be fun, so just enjoy yourself.”
“Will there be booze?” she asked.
He nodded, his hair brushing the collar of his coat. “I won’t be drinking, though, because I’ve got to drive you home.”
She didn’t want to drink, either, not without Chance. Chance. There was a pang in her chest. I wonder what he’s doing now.…
“—couldn’t get another band to replace The Bleeding Axe Wounds, so Leslie will probably play one of her Spotify playlists loaded with songs from the nineties. Which, okay, might suck, but we don’t have to dance if you don’t want to.”
“Wait, what?” Jenny asked, tearing her mind away from Chance.
Drake gave her a smile before turning onto a street loaded with cars. “It’s okay to be nervous. I’m not going to leave your side all night, I promise.”
Jenny had to admit that the closer they got to the party—she could see the house and its over-the-top Halloween decorations now—the less anxious and more excited she became. She could feel the bass from the stereo all the way outside, pulsing through the sidewalk and the soles of her feet as Drake helped her from the car. It’s just like a movie, she told herself as he led her up the walk. It’s just like a movie.
And it was. Drake opened the door, ushering her in, and she almost collided with a mass of bodies. There were many more people than she had expected, and Leslie had brought out a ridiculous amount of black lights to set the Halloween mood. There were skimpily dressed angels grinding against rowdy werewolves. A Hogwarts student in a black bathrobe was doing shots with a toilet-papered mummy. Deadpool ran around yelling random things and taking people’s drinks, being chased by a very angry-looking Sailor Moon. Jenny stuck close to Drake, grabbing his coat more out of necessity than desire, though she’d be lying if she said having to plaster herself to Drake’s side was the worst thing ever.
“No, no, the second Pirates of the Caribbean was the best,” he told her later as they sat on Leslie’s couch, watching a guy in a Captain Jack Sparrow costume unsuccessfully trying to hit on a man painted up like a zombie. “It has that scene with the cannibals. That shit was hilarious.”
“No, I’m telling you, the third one was better.” Jenny laughed. She had to shout to be heard over the music. “Elizabeth became king of the pirates—what’s better than that?”
“It was confusing,” Drake told her. “Everyone kept betraying one another.”
“That’s what pirates do!”
“Can’t they at least do it so I can follow?”
The music changed then, the whiny singer replaced by a dreary voice saying, “It’s astounding … time is fleeting…”
“Wait!” Jenny asked, excited. “Is this ‘The Time Warp’?”
Drake grinned at her enthusiasm. “I believe so.”
The people in the living room were standing in rows now, doing as the song told them: a jump to the left, a step to the right. The crowd moved as one, laughter blending with the music.
But Drake wasn’t watching them; he was watching Jenny, taking note of her expression. “Do you want to do it?”
“What?”
He stood, pulling her to her feet as well. “Come on.” He dragged her to the group. “Let’s dance.”
Her first instinct was to sit back down, but Drake looked so hopeful and it was dark, after all, and everyone else was dancing, too. It wasn’t too nerve-wracking if no one could see her among the crowd.
“Okay, okay…” And then she was dancing, too, hands on her hips and knees in tight.
Drake kept getting it backward and bumping into her, but he never stopped moving and neither did she. She looked up at him, at his profile highlighted in the black lights, his long, crooked nose and sharp chin. The small smile he made every time he misstepped. There was something endearing in the way he looked over to make sure she was smiling, too.
I could do this, she realized as the song ended and the crowd thinned. She stood there, in the middle of Leslie Vandercamp’s dark living room, looking up at Drake. It would be so easy to just let this happen. And so she did. She grabbed Drake by the hand and led him back to the couch, listening as he told her about how his band practiced on Thursdays at his house and would she like to come sometime?
At the end of the night, after way too many candied apples, he drove her home before midnight, just like her mother had demanded. Their conversation was pleasant, and he made her laugh a few times. He smelled overwhelmingly of Axe body spray; it flooded his car, and Jenny supposed that she liked that. She liked his long hair and his sharp collarbones.
“So, this is it,” he said, parking in front of her house.
She looked out at her house, a few of the lights still on. Her mom’s car was in the driveway for once, which meant she was back from taking Jack and Jessa trick-or-treating. Jenny knew that her mother was seated in the living room, ready to pounce and hear all about her date.
“Jenny?” Drake asked, waving a hand in front of her face.
She snapped out of her thoughts, slightly startled.
“Oh! I’m so sorry. I had a good time at the party. It was fun.” And, surprisingly enough, it had been.
“I thought so, too.” He grinned, lazily slinging his arm around her shoulders and giving them a squeeze. His hand felt a little too warm on her skin, but she didn’t shrug it off.
“We should do it again sometime,” she told him. She meant it. She could see herself easily falling in with Drake, becoming the girl at his side. He was rubbing small circles on her shoulder, and she guessed that felt kind of nice.
When he shifted toward her, leaning in ever so slowly, muttering, “I think so, too,” she knew what was happening and felt powerless to stop it. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to stop it. Drake was moving in, and it was now or never.
So Jenny chose now, the road less traveled. She chose Drake. She chose to lean forward and press her lips to his. There weren’t any fireworks. It wasn’t the Best Kiss Ever. The earth didn’t tilt on its axis, and the stars didn’t shine any brighter in the sky. She knew, because she’d opened her eyes halfway through. She couldn’t help it. But it wasn’t bad. It was clumsy and awkward, but she still grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer.
After kissing Chance on the trampoline, she thought kissing must be world-stopping. This was different, but different wasn’t bad. She clung to him, her hands sliding from his neck and tangling in his hair, her eyes closing again. He responded in kind, tightening his hold on her.
“I’ll see you soon,” Drake promised breathlessly.
Jenny waited on the porch, watching Drake drive off. She checked her reflection in the living room window, running her fingers through her now-messy hair. She didn’t want her mom to know she’d just been making out in the car.
CHAPTER 12
Chance
Chance’s phone came to life, lighting up the inside of his car. He glanced at it, catching sight of Jenny’s contact photo—her sticking her tongue out at him. He reached over, putting the call on speaker.
“How was your date?” he said by way of greeting.
“It was … all right.” Her voice filled the car. He could almost imagine she was there with him.
He chuckled. “Did you have fun at your first party?”
“To be honest, it was all kind of a blur,” she told him. “Drake seemed nice, like he does at lunch, and we talked a lot.”
“That’s good,” Chance said distractedly as he took a turn. It was so hard to see on these back country roads at night.
“You can at least act like you’re interested,” Jenny said. “I know you go on dates all the time, but it’s kind of a new experience for me.”
He was silent for a moment. “I am interested, Jenny. It’s just—”
“Are you driving?” she interrupted, her tone softening.
&
nbsp; “Late-night Walmart run.” That was half true—he had gone to the store; it just wasn’t where he was headed now. “It’s late, okay? I’m tired. But I’m glad you called to tell me about your date.”
She was silent. He was afraid she’d ask more questions, but she didn’t.
“I think I like him,” she said at last.
“You do?” Chance asked, his voice quiet in the dark.
“He seems nice and different. I need a little different. I think we’re dating now.”
“More than one date typically means dating,” Chance informed her.
They lapsed into silence and he was afraid that she’d fallen asleep on him.
“What have you been doing?” she asked, and for a split second he thought he’d been found out.
She doesn’t know, he reminded himself.
“Thinking, mostly,” he said as he pulled up outside the old barn. He killed the car, sitting in silence.
“About what?”
He paused. “Infomercials.”
“Infomercials?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve never understood how incompetent people always are during infomercials.”
Jenny laughed. “Me neither. People are always like, ‘Oh no, I can’t lift this jug of milk and now I’ve knocked out an entire row of cabinets!’”
They kept going on about the increasing incompetence of TV salespeople, the rhythmic sound of Jenny’s voice almost like a lullaby. It must’ve been somewhere around two o’clock when their words dried up and her breathing slowed, the phones still pressed to their ears. He kept dozing in and out of consciousness, the sounds of Jenny’s breathing lulling him to sleep. Finally, he hung up, pulling himself from the car. He pulled the new pack of batteries he’d bought for the lantern from his pocket and headed inside.
* * *
SO HE WAS sleeping in the barn. It wasn’t supposed to happen. He had told himself that he’d find somewhere else to go when things at home calmed down, but they didn’t calm down. Jenny was finally talking to him as if everything was normal and none of the awkwardness had ever happened. He was thankful. They could put that whole kissing mess behind them and go back to being just friends. He didn’t ask about Drake, and she didn’t offer to tell. Not after that first date.
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