Dating on the Dork Side

by Charity Tahmaseb

  “You know, for a smart girl, sometimes you really don’t get it.” Sophie spun away from me. She hiked the dress above her knees and marched toward the dressing room.

  She was right. I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand why Elle was here. And I definitely didn’t understand why she’d brought Clarissa along. I thought we were friends. Something cold and tight squeezed my heart and I froze. Right there, in that huge and hideous hoop skirt. If my phone hadn’t started chirping from the dressing room, I might have stood there all day.

  I swooshed into the stall, knelt by my bag, and was completely swallowed in an avalanche of ruffles. Everywhere I looked, all I could see was scratchy blue eyelet lace. I felt the floor for my bag, then dug for the phone.

  Someone laughed. I craned my neck and squinted through the lace in time to see long legs and several blue dresses float by. Clarissa. A second later, Mercedes bounced past with an armload of satin and silk.

  “Wow, Camy!” she said, glancing into the room. “Totally radical choice.”

  Three things happened all at once. I grabbed the phone, pushed the icon to talk, and landed on my butt.

  It was Rhino. I felt relieved for a millisecond. Maybe he planned on shopping with me via cell phone? If he did, I was all for it.

  “You have no idea what I’m going through,” I said.

  “I’m pretty sure I do.”

  “Unless you’ve been trapped inside a giant blue puff pastry with lace frosting, then trust me, you don’t.” I crawled to the doorway and searched the store for Sophie. Tillie had one hand on Elle’s shoulder. With the other, she pointed to a pedestal across the room.

  I pushed aside another handful of lace and scanned the store again. Sophie was standing with her back to me. She was halfway between the dressing rooms and the register. She was holding the dress in her arms. Even though I couldn’t see her face, I could feel the indecision roll off her.

  “You do look uncomfortable,” Rhino said.

  “I ... look?”

  “And no offense, but the Antebellum South just isn’t your era.”

  I jerked my head toward the front of the store. Outside, on the sidewalk, Rhino’s big nose was pressed against the window.

  I hung up the phone, stood, and took a few steps from the dressing room, the skirt tilting wildly as I squeezed through the door. I pulled at the hoop to clear a three-way mirror. I darted another look at the dressing room doors. Could I get rid of Rhino before Clarissa saw him?

  And what would Elle think about his arrival? She had already slipped on a dress and taken her spot on the pedestal. Tillie was hovering near her while the salesclerk placed pins in random spots on the gown. Elle looked beautiful, of course. Regal, even. All she needed was the crown.

  The bell over the door jingled and Rhino marched through the store. Elle swiveled on her pedestal so fast that her skirt swirled. The salesgirl went down on all fours to collect the pins that popped off as a result. Rhino nodded to Sophie, then stopped as close to me as the hoop skirt would allow.

  “This.” Rhino plucked at a ruffle with a finger and thumb. “This is why I’m needed here today.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Shhhh. I just tried it on to make Sophie laugh.”

  “You’re going to make me cry if you don’t take that thing off,” Sophie said.

  “I’m not changing until you buy your dress.”

  She glanced away. “I’m still thinking about it.”

  “What’s there to think about?” I looked to Rhino for support, but what did he know? “You should’ve seen her,” I told him before turning back to her. “It’s perfect and so pretty.”

  “It’s also pretty expensive.”

  I’d been trying my hardest not to look at price tags. I knew from experience that dressing like royalty didn’t come cheap. But now I forced myself to search for the tag on the hoop skirt from hell. Not that I planned to buy it. I found it in my left armpit and had to hold my elbow above my head to read it (backwards) in the mirror.

  “Four hundred and seventy dollars?” I felt my eyes widen, and the words came out much louder than I’d meant them to.

  Elle shot a look at me from her pedestal. She pulled her eyebrows in close and gave her head a quick shake.

  “You’re kidding,” Rhino said. He hefted up my left arm, inspecting the tag (and my armpit) himself. “Holy … granola.” He turned back to Sophie. “She’s not kidding.”

  “Guess mine’s a bargain, then.”

  “How much?” I held my arms out from my sides, afraid I’d have to pay for the thing if I sweated on it.

  “Two eighty, but I only have one fifty for shoes and everything.”

  I heard the rustle of silk and satin behind me. Mercedes and Clarissa emerged from their dressing rooms and took spots in front of the three-way mirrors.

  “Oh!” Clarissa said. “Now I see it.” She pivoted and planted herself in front of Sophie. “Having trouble deciding?” Her voice oozed out, honey sweet. “Tell you what I’m going to do. I’ll go ahead and buy that dress for myself. Then you won’t have to worry your poor little head about it.”

  The way Clarissa emphasized the word poor made my mouth go dry. It wasn’t right; we all knew that. Even so, we all just stood there.

  Clarissa held out a hand, like she expected Sophie’s dress to magically appear there. No one moved. Elle glared at us from on high. I think we all held our breaths, waiting for the epic homecoming court smackdown that was sure to come.

  Except it didn’t go like that. Sophie swiped at a few strands of hair that had fallen into her eyes.

  “This is stupid,” she said. “I didn’t want to be on the effing homecoming court anyway, and I don’t want this dress.” She shoved the mass of satin at Clarissa and spun to leave.

  Surprise lit Clarissa’s eyes, then that triumphant smile appeared on her lips. I tugged the hoop skirt and myself forward, nearly knocking Rhino off balance in the process. Taking someone’s, anyone’s, dress was something you only got to do once in a lifetime. Clarissa had already cashed in that token.

  “It’s not even your size,” I told her as the chime over the door jangled.

  “Of course it is.”

  Maybe Clarissa didn’t expect someone to snatch the dress away from her. Maybe she didn’t expect me to. Maybe that was why the satin slid through her grip so easily. I was halfway to the cash register before she called out, “Hey!”

  “I’d like to buy this dress,” I said.

  I shoved the blob of blue satin at the girl behind the register. Her eyes got huge. Not that I blamed her. I was still wearing the blue cream puff, after all. And I was trying to buy a dress I hadn’t even tried on with … my cell phone. My bag and my wallet were back in the dressing room.

  “It’s mine.” Clarissa’s fingers crumpled a handful of dress, but I held on tight.

  “You can’t have this dress,” I said. “You already did that.”

  From across the room, Tillie’s voice sang out, “Lovely to look at, delightful to hold, but if you rip it, consider it sold.”

  For a second, my gaze locked with Clarissa’s, and for a second, I thought we both might roll our eyes at that.

  “Oh, please.” Clarissa’s tone went nasty. “You know you’re a joke, right? It’s the only reason you were even voted in. Just so people will have something to laugh about. So why don’t you make it a little less embarrassing for yourself? Give it up. Quit the court, just like your skanky friend.”

  “I guess there’s only room on the court for one skank,” Rhino said. “What was it Aiden said? Something about the girl most likely to …?”

  At that moment, Mercedes burst onto the sales floor. She was holding my wallet in her hand. “Rhino said you were going to buy the hoop! Wow, Camy, you really are radical!”

  Clarissa shot both Mercedes and Rhino a death glare. I shoved my credit card at the poor girl behind the register, then turned to look for Sophie.

  She was gone.

  The moment the
charge went through, I gathered the dress in my arms, tore off the price tag, and threw the whole thing over Rhino’s shoulder.

  “Run. Find her. Please? I would.” I glanced down at the hoop. “But I’m not getting very far in this.”

  He took forever picking his way through the bridesmaid dresses, but the second his feet hit the sidewalk, Rhino broke into a sprint and vanished from sight.

  The girl at the register pushed a slip of paper toward me. “You need to sign,” she said. Then she took a step back, like she was afraid I might bite her. So I took the pen and signed. I had bought a dress that wasn’t mine, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be Clarissa’s. If Rhino couldn’t catch Sophie, the dress might not belong to anyone.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” Clarissa said.

  Neither could I. Neither, I was betting, would Dad when I had to tell him I’d bought a dress with the emergency credit card, and it wasn’t my dress. Instead of answering Clarissa, I turned to Mercedes.

  “Thanks,” I told her, “but I’m not buying the hoop. I’m not that radical.”

  “Yeah, thanks, Mercedes,” Clarissa added loudly. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You know what?” She spat the words at the salesgirl. “Thank you too. Thank you for reminding me that I didn’t want to shop in this stupid store in this stupid town anyway.”

  A loud “shhh” came from Elle’s corner. She twisted around, hitting Clarissa with a look sharp enough to shred satin.

  Clarissa continued in a singsong voice. “I’m driving over to the Mall of America. Who’s with me?”

  Elle’s hands flew to her hips. She scowled at Clarissa, then turned her back on her. Mercedes took her cue from Elle. She turned away too, although not as deliberately. I found myself holding my breath and waiting for Clarissa to look at me next. She didn’t bother.

  Instead, she marched back to the dressing room alone. A few minutes later she marched out of Tillie’s, also alone. Something pulled me toward the front window to watch her. It was like there was an invisible thread connected to my bellybutton. I resisted it. I didn’t want to press my cheek against the glass and peer down the street after either Clarissa or Sophie. Not in front of Mercedes and Elle.

  I glanced at the salesclerk. She looked away. I was about to head for the dressing rooms to escape the hoop when Rhino blasted back through the door. He took a few steps inside the shop and bent over at the waist. His hands were on his knees, and he panted hard.

  He didn’t have the dress.

  “I ran,” he said between breaths.

  “I guessed.” I stared past him at the door. It was like waiting for a text to show up on your phone. “Where’s Sophie?” I asked when I couldn’t wait any longer.

  “Somewhere … behind …me.”

  “You know, the best way to recover from a run is to stand up straight and—”

  Still hunched over, he shot me a glare.

  Sophie appeared in the doorway behind him. She studied the dress in her hands, then looked at me. “I can’t believe you did this.”

  I shrugged. “It’s a killer dress.”

  “It’s got a killer price tag too.” She turned toward the register. “I hope Tillie’s has a layaway plan.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said, “because I do.”

  “Huh?”

  “No interest,” I added.

  “I don’t like this,” she said. “I don’t like … owing people stuff.”

  “Could you ask your mom?” I asked.

  “My mom? Yeah. Right.”

  “Or your dad?” I suggested. After all, Dad always came to my rescue.

  “Oh, sure. My dad. He’ll fix everything.” The words coming from her mouth didn’t match the sadness on her face.

  My own face burned. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I knew from tutoring her last year that Sophie lived with her mom. I knew her dad wasn’t around.

  “This whole thing is ridiculous, anyway,” she said. “It’s not like either one of us has a real chance.” She nodded toward Elle.

  That was when I realized we’d lost Rhino and Mercedes. They were both standing below Elle on her pedestal. While I couldn’t hear their words, it looked like Elle and Rhino were trading insults. Well, at least they were happy.

  “I mean,” Sophie said, “The Ab is probably collecting pig’s blood as we speak.”

  “What?”

  “Come on, it’s in a book.” She looked surprised that there might be a piece of literature I didn’t recognize immediately. “By that guy, Stephen King. It’s the one where this weird girl gets voted prom queen?”

  I drew a blank.

  “And then the popular guys throw blood on her at the dance?” Sophie held out the hand that wasn’t holding the dress and let her mouth fall open. “You have to know this. It’s a classic.”

  I shrugged. “Is it one of those stories where everybody dies at the end?”

  For a moment, Sophie was like stone. Then she burst out laughing. Peals of it bounced off the walls, filling the store. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned toward her. Tillie smiled. Up on her pedestal, Elle beamed. Mercedes giggled. The clerk with the pins, the girl behind the register, even Rhino grinned. Because Sophie’s laugh?

  It sounded happy.

  “Okay,” she said after calming down. “Now let’s get you something real to wear. I’m thinking…” And she examined me again, the look pointed and unforgiving. “Something retro.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I was standing in front of the three-way mirrors, my expression stunned. The dress looked like vintage 1950s. The neckline went straight across, showing off my collarbone and shoulders, but not much else. It nipped in at the waist, then exploded into a full skirt that didn’t quite reach the floor. Tillie called it tea length. I’d need shoes, really nice shoes.

  Tillie sent one of her minions to search for a pair in my size. “I haven’t had a waist like that since I was ten.” She sighed and pinched the extra material along the sides of the dress. “We could have this taken in.”

  I shook my head. The dress fit fine as far as I was concerned. Plus, tailoring cost extra and my credit card had a limit.

  Sophie stared at me with one eye closed. “You are going to get the dress,” she said. “Right?”

  “It’s not floor-length.”

  “I don’t think there’s a rule about that.”

  I glanced toward Elle.

  “She doesn’t make the rules, either,” Sophie added. “Come on, try to tell me you hate it.”

  I couldn’t. “Well,” I said. “It is long enough.” I bent down and raised the hem, revealing the scars along my knee.

  “What the ... What did you do?”

  “I should probably do a chair test, too,” I said, ignoring her question. I found a seat not far from the mirrors and plopped down. If I sat just right, the dress still touched the bottom of the lowest scar. It would do.

  Sophie stood above me. “Jeez, what’s wrong with your leg?”

  “I told you before,” I said. “It’s a football injury.”

  “I thought you meant, like, tossing a football around in your backyard.”

  “Well, you know, my dad says Walter Payton once—”

  “Walter who?” Sophie interrupted.

  “Payton. Sweetness? Greatest running back of all time?”

  Sophie stared at me like I was a refugee from the planet Weird.

  “So, yeah,” I said. “I used to play in the Olympia Youth Football League.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. My answer still wasn’t good enough.

  “There isn’t a rule against girls playing, you know,” I added.

  “You mean, you played with Gavin and Lukas and all of them?”

  I nodded.

  “You.” She picked up my wrist and circled it with her finger and thumb. “You have, like, bird bones or something.”

  I did. But I had never played the line, and I’d been fast enough that I never ended up at the bottom of a pi
le. Almost never. “For a while in grade school, I was taller than a lot of the boys. I even outweighed some of them.”

  Sophie leaned against the mirror. “That’s right. Gavin was a shrimp, wasn’t he?”

  “It’s like I turned around one day and he was.” I stood and waved my hand about six inches above my head. Then I shook out the skirt of my dress. Yeah, my dress. I’d decided. For the second time in my life, I felt like what I wore could really make a difference. This time, I wouldn’t let anyone take that away from me.

  From out of nowhere, Sophie laughed.

  “What?” I said.

  “These.” Sophie grabbed my wrist again, this time by one of my string bracelets. “You’re going to have to lose these, at least for one night.”

  I’d never been all that into crafts, but I’d started on the bracelets down in Iowa that summer. My mom’s roommate had given me the kit as a welcome present.

  I pulled the prettiest one from my wrist. A midnight blue and silver one. “Here.” I held out my hand, the bracelet dangling from my fingers.

  “I can’t. I’ve already taken enough,” she said.

  “It’s string.”

  She mumbled a few words, but then she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist. We were saved from having to actually say something about this by Rhino.

  “Whoa,” he said.

  “What do you think?” Not that I really needed Rhino’s approval. After all, this was the boy who thought dressing up meant pulling something flannel over a chicken butt tee.

  The crinkles around his eyes deepened. “Perfect.” Then, without another word, his hands went to my waist. He plucked the price tag from the dress, taking me a few steps with him.

  “Hey!” I said, but Rhino ignored me.

  He crouched, scooped up the shoebox, and headed for the cash register. By the time I caught up to him, he’d pulled out his wallet and was handing the salesgirl a big stack of bills.

  “What are you doing?”

  Rhino nudged the shoebox my way, then the tag he’d taken from my dress. He tapped the price of each of them. The numbers swirled for a moment, then jumped out at me. My dress? Two hundred and twenty-five dollars. The shoes? Another seventy-five. I added in the two hundred and eighty I’d spent on Sophie’s dress and felt sick. I didn’t need Rhino’s mathematical genius to figure this one out. I wasn’t sure what my credit card limit was, but I’d probably burst through it and gone soaring into the stratosphere.