Prom Queen of Disaster

by Joseph James Hunt

  “I won’t tell my coach if you don’t,” he said.

  “It’s not my coach I’m worried about,” I said.

  “Char?” We laughed.

  It wasn’t incredibly romantic, the white fluorescent lighting against the tiled walls and floors did no favors to anyone. We ate in a single booth, everything I got was large, my body craved it. I knew I’d be paying for it in some way over the next few weeks during practice.

  I grabbed snacks while Dylan filled up the tank. It was straight to the drive-in theater from there. Ava and Kaleb had arrived beside Char and Benny. We parked to the left of them both.

  “My mom said she used to come here,” I said. “I think it’s cute.”

  “I think you’re cute,” he said, pulling a blanket from the backseat. “In case it gets colder.” He placed it around my shoulders.

  To the left of me, Ava rustled a bag with glass bottles clanging. She turned, her face red. “It’s not beer,” she said. Kaleb pulled out a bottle opener. “It might be.”

  Char laughed. “As long as you’re not drinking and driving, you know they like to bring cops to these places.”

  The cops didn’t come. Although Ava never drank and Char had taken a bottle for herself, Benny wasn’t a huge drinker. He only drank soda at Char’s house, and even then, he had a great time.

  The film was great, I’d remembered most of it already, but all I could focus on, apart from Dylan kissing my neck, was Char and Benny in the next car over, chewing on each other’s faces. I might not have mentioned it, but my face sure painted the picture.

  “After party?” Char asked as the credits rolled. We turned to her and shrugged. Benny whispered leading to a smile. “Actually, I’m pretty tired.”

  I looked at Dylan, biting his lip as he sat back, his arms across the back of my headrest and the driver’s side door. “I need to get Zo back home too.”

  I laughed. I knew my dad had told him to get me back as soon as the film was over. He hated me being out late, and it was now pitch black, minus the light coming from the projector. It was 11 PM, but my curfew had been 10:30 PM unless I was sleeping over at a friend’s house.

  Without the streetlights on Peyton Lane, it was in complete darkness. I had a few neighbors who would leave the porch lights on, but the light didn’t filter out. Dylan walked me to the door. Leaving me with a kiss, and a reminder to book a hotel to see us at the cheer competition.

  My dad called out to me as I walked through the door. He stood in his night robe and reading glasses, pouring coffee in the kitchen. “How was your night?”

  “Dad? What are you doing up?” I walked over to the kitchen counter. “Yeah, it was good.”

  “Jet lag,” he said. “You’d think I’d be able to handle it by now.” His crooked grin was enough to make me smile.

  “Where did you go this time?”

  “Paris,” he said. “Stayed there for a night. Brought your mom some red wine. Boarded a flight to Australia, before catching my connecting flight home.”

  “I remember Paris,” I said. “Do they still have the bridge with locks?” I imagined one-day adding mine and Dylan’s names to it.

  “Think so,” he said.

  We didn’t go away much since I started high school, usually for summers, but the past few years I’d been going to summer camps, or Orlando to visit my dad’s sister, Berta, a veterinarian. She used to live here before falling in love, and he turned out to be a she, a woman named Wendy. My dad would always tell the story, and made funnier because she still lived out there.

  “Are you taking us anywhere soon?”

  He shrugged. “Any ideas?”

  “Rome?”

  “We went to Rome when you were ten.”

  “I barely remember what I had for breakfast,” I said. Answering myself internally as I knew I hadn’t eaten anything because I woke up late.

  “Maybe I’ll think about taking you somewhere over Christmas,” he said. “But it depends on your mom.”

  “Mom’s the boss,” I said.

  He moved around the counter to give me a squeeze in his arms. “She is indeed.” He rested his coffee cup on my head slightly. “Are you up early tomorrow?”

  “It’s Sunday. But I should be going to bed.” I kissed his cheek. “God knows, Mom will try and get me to go to church.”

  My phone vibrated in my bag. The group chat was going hard and strong, messages beeped, one after the other. I undressed, climbing into bed in the dark. I flipped the bedside lamp on before looking at the messages.

  It all spiraled from a video one of the girls had recorded. The camera was shaky, and the voices were quiet. Mila was speaking with Delilah in the girl’s bathroom. Every time I went to watch it, another notification came through, pausing the video.

  I grabbed my earphones from the laptop on the desk. “Geesh, what’s happened?” I said to myself, blowing out my tongue as I laid back on the bed, ready to play the video. It was inside a cubical looking out onto Mila and Delilah.

  “Can you believe that bitch?” Mila said. “First off,capti we had nothing to do with the punch bowl, and secondly, that son of a—grrr, she probably did it herself.”

  Delilah snapped her fingers in support. “Exactly. I saw Zoey as well, since when did she go by Zo, what stupid effed up name is that? Who does she think she is? And she was affected, of course she was.” She said, raising her hands in air quotes.

  My chest swelled at the mention of my name. “Errrgh.”

  “I don’t mind Zoey, honestly, she’s quiet,” Mila said. “Bring those cheer bitches down.”

  Delilah mimicked a Bring It On! quote, “this isn’t a democracy, this is a cheerocracy!”

  “I’ll tell the others, we’ll discuss ideas,” Mila said.

  The video cut.

  It was on YouTube, and had hit over 12,000 views since its posting that afternoon, but it was the first I saw of it. My eyes scrolled through comments.

  They were asking me what they wanted to happen, they were coming to me for an answer. It wasn’t me they were after, from what I’d seen, they were after Char; the cheer captain, but I’d been mentioned as quiet, and having a stupid name, which was nothing in comparison

  Does anyone know what they’re planning? I asked.

  I think it’s The Golden State Cheer Championships – they’re going to come for us, a few of the girls had commented.

  Char’s name flashed on my screen as she called. I answered through the microphone piece on the earphones. “Who shot the video?” I asked.

  “Some sophomore,” she answered immediately. “I can’t believe this is the first we’re hearing of it. Well, we had no signal out in the middle of god knows where. So, what are we doing?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re planning to bring us cheer bitches down,” Char said. “So, what are we doing?”

  I knew Ava was usually her go-to when it came to that sort of drama. I’d never been that person, I never knew. “Come Monday; we need to get a story,” I said. “No, not a story, we need to come together and have a truth, something we all recite. If they’re coming for us, we go for them three times harder.” I didn’t know where it came from, perhaps fear, or passion in the swell of my chest.

  “This is what I’ve already tried to get us doing,” Char said. “So, Mila or Delilah?”

  “Both?”

  “And we have that video as proof,” Char said. “Trust me. I’ve spent years acting a victim. If divorcing parents taught me anything, it was tears, lies, and inflating someone’s ego.”

  Before long, we had a new group chat aptly titled Those Bitches; the conversation was to destroy them, pulling from the extremes of suspension and all the way through to getting them criminal records and their last choice of college. It was a selective chat. We didn’t include any of the other girls, this way we could be completely radical without being judged.

  The darkness of the early hours crept in. Our text chat turned into a five-way Skype, a
s they usually did.

  “Should we let them know we’ve seen it?” Hannah asked. “I mean, even though the video is on YouTube, should we like, you know, tell them?”

  “I think we need to show Principal Sanders,” Char said. “He’ll be happy to see what the student body and a nobody have been saying. First thing, Monday morning, we march to his office and make sure he’s aware of it.”

  “Well, we don’t really know what they’re doing,” I said. “It could be anything.”

  “But it’s something,” Ava added. “I don’t think that matters, but something is more than nothing.”

  “Exactly.”

  “What could they do? Get us to carb load?” I laughed, harder and louder than I’d expected. “But seriously, poison us?”

  “Again?” Libby gasped. “Maybe they’ll try to pin the punch bowl thing on us, and if they do, we’ll probably be banned from all dances, even the cheer competition.”

  “Take a breath, Lib!” Char laughed. “That will never happen.”

  We continued, chatting about what we’d thought they were going to do with their revenge, when all I could think about was spooning the cold side of my pillow, before I was finally sleeping, my face staring blindly into the laptop screen.

  Chapter Eleven

  Monday morning soon came as my sleepy Sunday left with the voice of my mom, reminding me I needed to go to church at least once a month. I had nothing against religion; I had nothing against the church, but inside, in the pit of soul, I didn’t believe, although most everyone in my neighborhood did.

  I walked into school with Dylan on my arm, hugging him close.

  “Zo!” Char shouted. “Get over here. We’re going to the principal’s office.”

  “Is this the?” He asked moving his hand in a circle.

  I let go of his arm. “Guess so.” I pushed myself on my toes and kissed him. “See you later.”

  “Later.”

  We lined up outside Principal Sanders’ office. We didn’t have hall passes or notes to be here, although his receptionist didn’t seem to mind us waiting, after all we were breaking school rules. We stood proud and prominent, waiting for our turn.

  Both Officer Renner and Officer Gerrard walked out, looking us up and down. They raised their brows. Char flicked her hair and led us into the office, ignoring the officers.

  “Principal Sanders,” Char said. She placed her hands on the desk and looked him in his eyes. “We need to talk.”

  He stood, fanning a hand and gesturing to the seats. “Ladies! How may I help you?”

  “Well, Principal Sanders, the other night, we came upon some disturbing footage. It shocked me,” Char said. “Now, I’m not here to put the blame on anyone or point fingers, because the evidence does that itself.”

  He laughed, as he did when entertaining Char, but this time, it wasn’t another crazy issue that didn’t exist, this time there was evidence. “Well, please, go right ahead.”

  Ava pulled out her tablet. “There’s a video. If you haven’t already seen it.” She flipped the screen and propped it up on his desk. “Now almost twenty-thousand views.”

  “This is only one, but we know there’s more, and it doesn’t make me feel comfortable or safe.” Char held a hand to her chest.

  Ava pressed play. “So uncomfortable.”

  “Feeling so attacked,” Char said.

  “Very,” Hannah and Libby added.

  The principal tipped his head to me in the sequence of opinions. I stood united. “I think it’s a form of bullying.”

  Char pulled open the code of conduct booklet and flicked through a few pages, scrolling with a finger. “Here,” she said. “The school has a zero-tolerance bullying policy.”

  “Exactly,” I added. “And for it to be online, where the entire world can watch it. That’s considered cyber bullying.”

  “You have a solid argument,” he said. “But I know you girls are very close, and you can power through even the most heated situations.”

  “But the rules, Principal Sanders.”

  “Of course.” He nodded. “This situation will be dealt with, and not lightly. But if you could put this much effort into finding out who broke into the science lab and stole from us, effectively poisoning your peers, that would equally as appreciated.”

  Char rolled her eyes. “They’re to blame, I’ve already told you, it was probably Mila and that nobody. But of course, nobody listens to us unless we’re pulling from your material.”

  He laughed. It was usual for Char to jump off at the deep end like this, she would be asking for help one moment, and biting your head of the next. But she was consistent. “That’s all well and good, Char, but give me some evidence, like you have done here today, and I’ll look into your claims,” he said. “But for now, there’s only so much of your first period that you can miss without being marked as tardy.”

  There was a logical step afterward; Char pulled us aside. “Well it wouldn’t be hard to put some AP chem-geek at the scene where pure ethanol was stolen,” she said. Referring to Heather.

  “Soak her shit in it,” Ava said.

  “It probably stinks too!” I said. Not that I noticed, I’d been poisoned by the stuff, even knowing it was Kaleb, I found it easy to start pinning the blame on someone else.

  Over the next few days, we practiced hard in the gymnasium and outside on the field when the weather was nice. It was almost the end of November now, and soon we’d be off to the competition. Last year we came in third place; this year we were determined to finish first in our division.

  “We have the soundtrack finalized, we know the music, we should all know the beats, the step-by-step, the blow-by-blow, and if you don’t, I expect each and every one of you to practice,” Char said, walking back and forth in front of us like a drill sergeant. “I’ve sent everyone links to the music. Download it, listen to it, but know where you come in, and going forward, if we make a mistake, we’re just going to continue.”

  Mr. June’s spiel about the having fun followed. “The main focus is the fun, of course.”

  “And if you’re having fun, how can we fail,” Char added, flicking her hair with the back of her hand. “Right?”

  My position on the team was mostly at the front. I was a tumbler, so any opportunity to flip, somersault, or hand-spring, I was ready. The only thing I wasn’t keen on was being a flyer. I left that to the smaller girls, like Ava, Damaris, and Jade.

  “All sixteen of us here today should have no problem in locking down this routine. That’s seventeen including Kaleb, but he’ll only be coming with us in support,” she said, nodding to Kaleb on the sidelines in the mascot outfit

  Bex moved to stand beside Char and Mr. June. “And as your assistant cheer captain, I am excited to be headed to the competition with you all. I know, I’ll be headed out on a full scholarship to Stanford this summer, but I will be giving this competition, like I do each game, my full commitment and passion.”

  Mr. June clapped alone. “Well done, Rebecca, we’re all very proud of the opportunities we’ve been provided with because of our success and talents.”

  Char coughed into a fist. “We’re happy for you Bex, early scholarship admissions are great, but if you’re waiting it out for the perfect school, do it, don’t bite the first worm because you’re starving, wait it out. And you don’t have to bend your legs behind your head to get an education.”

  At the end of junior year, Char spread rumors about Bex having slept with someone on the admissions team, and that’s how she came to have her college scholarship. Of course, after Char was elected cheer captain, Mr. June made sure to appoint Bex as the assistant, even though Ava was Char’s first choice, she didn’t have any say.

  Everyday training meant another day closer to the competition, and the closer we were, the more desperate we were for some salon treatment. Char called it our pre-tan, the base coat of our body.

  “Shower first,” Char called through the locker room. “I don’t want Amy
to think we’re all animals; this isn’t the cheer squad she left.”

  Amy welcomed us in, locking the door behind us for our after hours special. She kissed Char on either cheek, having spent two weeks in Paris, she was all of a sudden European.

  “Girls,” Amy said. “I shouldn’t be doing this, you know, but I’d like to make sure all your tanning needs are taken care of; I’ve kept a few of the beds open, and only one spray room.”

  Only a few of us went, including Damaris and Monique this time, mainly for the after-tan food stop and moisturizers.

  “I’ll take a bed,” I said. “Can I get some lotion?”

  “Sure thing.” Amy’s heels clicked on the tile floor as she moved behind the desk. “How are you and Dylan?”

  “Good,” I said. “He’s coming to support me at the competition.”

  “I think that’s the cutest thing,” she said. She wasn’t wrong. I thought so too.

  The tanning bed was 8 minutes of bliss. I laid there for a few moments after the timer beeped and the lights shut off.

  “Are you finished?” I heard Jade squeak, knocking on the door.

  “Yeah, lemme get dressed.” I hauled myself out of the tanning bed and reached for the lotion. My body resembled an oil slick, glittering in different colors.

  Back in my cheer uniform with my hair pulled back into a ponytail, I admired myself in the full-length door mirror, putting my hands on my hips and framing my midsection. My skin took to the sun, no matter how artificial it was.

  We ate at Chicken Shack, the decision was unanimous, although the options were limited while Char was around. We each needed one bowl of salad per piece of chicken. Char would’ve been behind the counter if she could, to tell them how to cook the chicken with fewer calories.

  “So,” Ava whispered to me as she sat with her bowl of salad and stale croutons. “Kaleb stayed behind to pin some evidence on those bitches.”

  “What’s he gonna do?” I sniggered. “Put something in their lockers?”

  Ava’s eyes grew. “Good idea.”

  “No, that wasn’t an idea.”

  “I’ll tell Kaleb.”