Prom Queen of Disaster

by Joseph James Hunt

It buzzed in my hand; Ava’s name flashed up. “Oh my god, I can’t believe what happened. I wish I knew. I would’ve told you,” She sniffled over the phone.

  A fuzzy haze covered me, it was suffocating. I tried to speak back, to scream, cry, anything. My hands shook. “What?” I said. “What? What!”

  Ava spoke, her voice now quiet. I imagined her apologizing, telling me she hated Char, but all I believed was Char had decided to keep the baby, and Dylan was being forced into marriage—or he chose to, probably had the ring for me.

  “Zo?” Ava squeaked. “You okay?”

  I hung up as the first sob broke out. Nobody was allowed to see me like that. Kaleb walked in. He knocked first, but I thought it was Oreo knocking something over.

  “I heard,” he said, closing the door behind him. “You’re not okay.”

  “What?” I asked, bawling my eyes into my hands. “I’ve been horrible to you.”

  He threw a hand at me flippantly. “You saved me,” he said, sitting at the end of my bed. “Now, I’m helping you. I’m not talking about painting your anger. Maybe going to the gym, get strapped in some boxing gear, something my brothers would do with me. Fight it out.”

  The dimpled smile on his cheeks as he pressed his lips to stop smiling. I wiped away tears and smiled. “Sounds good. I guess. But I don’t want him to get away with it.”

  He nodded, like he understood my mind. “What do you want?”

  “To hurt him,” I said with a wave of relief.

  “How?” he asked. “I’ve been hurt—and I’ve hurt people.”

  My chest swelled with hope. “I’d kill him,” I said, half-heartedly smiling. “No, I’m going to smash the windows of his car. He fucking loves that car.”

  His dad had given him his old car over Christmas, it was probably the only way I could think of showing how much he hurt me. Nothing would be close, but this was a start.

  “We can do that,” Kaleb said. “Dress in all black. Do you have a crow bar or baseball bat?” He laughed. I wasn’t sure if he was serious, but I knew he’d definitely smashed a few cars up in frustration.

  “Garage,” I said. “My dad always wanted a boy, typical.”

  “The garage it is,” he said. “Midnight?”

  I laughed. “I feel better already.” I lied; I’d feel better with his car busted up.

  In the garage, my dad had mementos of his dad, my grandfather, the things he would’ve shared with me or my sister if we were boys, although my sister had shown interest in baseball, it was nothing she did after turning 9 years old.

  My mom was in bed by midnight. We waited up. I wore all black, and met Kaleb in the garage. He was on his bike with a second helmet in his hands.

  “We’re taking your bike?” I grit my teeth.

  “Yeah.” He threw the helmet into my arms. “It’s faster and we’re gonna need to be quick,” he said. “If we’re caught, this could stop you from getting into college.”

  “If we get caught,” I chuckled. “You’re the one who’s done this before.”

  “I have a criminal record.”

  “Maybe I need one of those now to make me interesting,” I said, squeezing my head inside the helmet “Something for my college essay.”

  I opened the garage door, watching the top window in case my mom woke up. Kaleb wheeled his bike down the driveway to the main road. Somewhere it wouldn’t wake everyone in the house. I made sure I had my keys and a baseball bat before I closed the door again, making sure it locked. I zipped up my jacket pocket and walked over to Kaleb with my phone and baseball bat.

  “You sure?” he asked, resting on the bike seat. He scooted up to make room for me behind him. “We can go and see first.”

  “Don’t give me options,” I said. “I’ve made my decision.” I flipped the visor shut. “How’d I look?”

  “Looks like you’re about to steal my bike,” he laughed.

  “I don’t think I could drive with this in my hands,” I said, hitting the baseball bat in the palm of my hand.

  I led Kaleb to Dylan’s house. All the lights were off but his car was parked in the driveway. Of course, their garage could only hold the one vehicle, and his dad’s new car was already inside. Dylan’s was there for the taking. I hoped Char would’ve been there with hers too, that way I’d hit two birds with one bat.

  “Ready?” Kaleb said, pulling my helmet off. “I’ll keep watch.”

  Suddenly, there was fire in my stomach. I hopped back and forth on my feet. Sucking in quick deep breaths and blowing slowly. “I need to do this,” I said, switching my hands with the bat. “He deserves everything coming to him, and so does she.”

  He laughed. “We can do her after,” he said.

  “I’ll let Benny,” I said. “I’m sure he already is after their engagement.”

  “You think he will?” Kaleb asked.

  I rolled my eyes at the thought. Benny was sweet but responsible; he wouldn’t risk his life on a girl whose legs couldn’t close.

  “Ready,” I said, moving around his car. It was a beautiful car; a shame it was his. I imagined his face on it, mocking me; I knew he wouldn’t, but it helped.

  With a strong back swing, I hit the windshield. It cracked. I hit again, and again. After several cracks appeared, a loud roaring smash followed as all the glass crashed inside.

  The alarm finally sounded. I swung the bat, one final time, taking the rear-view mirror off completely. The alarm rang louder. Kaleb called me over as lights flashed on inside the house.

  I jumped on the back of the bike, forcing the helmet down. Kaleb prepared his hand around the throttle. I wrapped my arms around his waist as the screech of the tires left a smell of burning rubber.

  Euphoria ran through my body, my bones, I was weightless. I embraced it, letting go of Kaleb to raise my hands. The cool air snapped at us, chasing us.

  We detoured to Char’s house to see if anything had happened. The living room light was on; her mom was likely drinking herself into an early grave, given the huge plans she’d had for Char, this baby was the last thing she wanted. Now she was engaged to Dylan, her future was brighter at least, but she was still going to fuck the plans he’d made.

  “I’m happy for them,” I laughed. “They can go Romeo and Juliet each other.” I looked at Kaleb’s blank face as it went over his head. He smiled and reached for my hand. I let him hold it for a moment before pulling away to wipe it.

  “I don’t think she’ll keep it,” he said. “She’ll miss prom.”

  “You don’t know her like I do,” I said. “This is what she does, she finds something and uses it against everyone. That’s why she’s the cheer captain.”

  Kaleb grabbed my hand again. I pulled away and looked into his eyes. “That’s how she got me to spike the punch,” he said, sighing with a defeated relief. “Her and my brothers, I don’t know what they were doing, but I’ve not be truthful to you.”

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  “No, whatever it was they had on me, it was bullshit.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “I wasn’t allowed to say.” He shrugged. “They kicked me out. Now someone’s been expelled, so there’s not much they can do now.”

  Inside I was shouting at myself, telling myself I told you so, he knew more than he was letting on, and all those times I’d pushed, I should’ve pushed harder, but I didn’t.

  “Why did they do it?” I asked.

  “Char’s idea,” he said. “Pinning it on Mila, Char wanted to come out on top, she wanted to be the school hero.”

  I grabbed his hand in mine. “It’s okay,” I said. “They can’t hold anything over you now.” But I wasn’t sure how many more things they had over him. “I guess it makes sense.”

  “You know if I’m caught again, they’ll put me in prison.”

  I stared into his eyes. “What?”

  “The criminal record. I wasn’t joking.” He squeezed my hand in his. “I’m technically an adult, I can be prosecuted as one.�
�

  “Three strikes and you’re out?”

  He chuckled. “Three strikes.” He smiled.

  It was 2 AM when we got back to the sleepy suburbia of Peyton Lane. There were no police, all the lights were off, and all things considered, my dad’s baseball bat was in good shape. It was the most exercise I’d done in a while; a lot like an amazing floor routine, I felt accomplished.

  For the first night in over a week, I slept as soon as my head touched the pillow beside Oreo. My eyes rolled back and my face cracked a yawn at the side of my mouth. It had been an adventure.

  “Zoey!” my mom called.

  It was 7:56 AM. I rolled over in bed and flipped to the cold side of the pillow. She called out to me again, this time knocking on my door.

  “There’s police officers at the door,” she whispered, trying the handle. It was locked.

  I jumped up. “I’ll be out in a minute.” My arms flapped around with nerves. I dressed quickly and ran to the door. My mom scooped an arm around me. She’d invited the officers in.

  Two men stood in the kitchen sipping coffee.

  “Zoey Jensen?” One of them asked. I nodded. “I’m Officer Kitt, this is my partner, Officer Franklin.” They nodded back.

  “Okay,” I said. “What’s this about?” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and half-yawned.

  “There was an incident around 1 AM this morning. A car window was smashed in, and you know the person it happened to,” Officer Franklin said. “We have some questions.”

  “Where were you between midnight and 2 AM?” Officer Kitt asked.

  “In bed,” my mom laughed, throwing her hand up like it was obvious.

  “Home, in bed,” I said, shifting on my feet. “I have exams coming up so I’m studying every moment I get.”

  They nodded.

  “Do you know a Dylan McAlister?” Officer Kitt asked. “He claims this was you. Why would he believe you’d cause damage to his property?”

  “He cheated on her,” my mom huffed. “Are you accusing my daughter of this?”

  “Mom,” I said, pausing her. “It’s fine. You can check my car; it’s not been used since I drove home from school yesterday. Actually, I probably went for a Starbucks about 7 PM.”

  They nodded again, sizing me up, looking at my arms, very slim, not the arms you’d see swinging a baseball bat.

  “It could be anyone,” I said. “Dylan and Char, the girl he cheated on me with, probably have a lot of enemies, after what they did, I’m surprised someone hasn’t done worse. I mean, they screwed over a lot of people.”

  My mom reached out and massaged my shoulder with a hand. “It’s okay, Zoey,” she said. “I’m glad you’re throwing yourself into school instead of being destructive.”

  They nodded, taking in everything we did and said. Their beady eyes, stared back, making mental notes. “We’ll be in touch,” Officer Franklin said. “If you have any information in the meantime, don’t hesitate to contact us.”

  After they left, my mom made more coffee and we sat at the table. She stayed quiet for a moment. I drank the coffee, although what I really needed was sleep.

  “You can tell me,” she said.

  I closed my eyes, opening them to look directly at her. “I didn’t want to,” I said, hoping to see disappointment. Instead, her blue eyes welcomed it. “I’m sorry.”

  “No,” she said, holding a hand up to me. “You’re not the one who needs to be sorry. He cheated on you, sweetie. I don’t think you need to destroy anyone’s personal property, but what is done is done, and you can only ask for forgiveness.”

  “I don’t think he’ll forgive me,” I said.

  “Not Dylan,” she said with a smile and pointed upward. “Prayer. I know, you’ve heard me talk endlessly, but in the end, it’s only Him who can judge you, and only He can forgive you.”

  “Like, out of my mouth, or in my head?”

  “Whichever you feel comfortable with, as long as you believe in it.”

  I went back to my room with coffee in hand. I sat on the end of my bed, my knees close together, my elbows on my knees, and my head dipped into my arms. I pressed my palms together and thought.

  Please—please forgive me, I understand you’re the one in charge, but I couldn’t help taking it into my own hands. Now I ask for forgiveness, not for what I’ve done, but lacking control. I bowed. Amen.

  I sat back in bed, my mind clear of thought. Oreo purred at me, pushing his head into my fingers.

  “You make everything okay,” I said, but I wasn’t okay.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Everyone had questions. They wanted to know what happened to Dylan’s car. I told them it wasn’t me, but they knew it was. Their faces said as much, the half smiles as I walked the halls with a little more confidence; my head high and my shoulders back.

  “Did you do it?” Celina, a girl in the art studio asked.

  I didn’t respond. I glared and smiled.

  “Did you total his car?”

  That was a lie. Only the windshield and rear-view mirror were hit. That’s all, but gossip always had a way of creating fictions of itself. “I wish I did,” I said.

  “He deserves it,” she said. “Char’s a whore. I can’t believe she’d do that.”

  “Me either,” I shrugged, going back behind my canvas. I’d been given the go-ahead to start the pieces. Every collection needed a title, as I sketched out the bones on the first canvas, I mused over titles. Fight for prom queen, teens and tiaras, popularity princess. I scoffed, hoping nobody noticed.

  “Coming along well, Zo,” Mrs. Galloway said.

  I turned to her talking with Mr. Brooks. He glanced at my canvas. I was never usually conscious, but by the the way he looked at it, he was analyzing and judging it.

  “What do you think?” I asked him.

  “I’ll have to see it as a collection,” he said. “You can’t make comments based on a sketch, let alone a painting.”

  The judgement was still there, but what was expected when someone’s deep wrinkles were set in their ways. Perhaps he wanted to ask if I trashed Dylan’s car, everyone else had asked.

  Before fourth period I bumped into Dylan, my head in thought as I texted Mila, she wanted to meet later, she had new ideas on getting back at Char.

  “Shit, Zoey,” he said, collecting himself.

  “Yeah?” I said.

  He stared down at me. “Sorry,” he said, again. I heard him say it more this past week than any time before. “Are you happy?”

  I smiled. “Very. Why?”

  “About my car.”

  “What about your car?” I said, my heart beating in my ears.

  He sneered and grit his teeth. “I didn’t do it on purpose, Zo.”

  “Which part?”

  People stopped in the hallway, waiting for something, perhaps an explosion, but I wasn’t going to let that happen. I’d let out my anger already; it wasn’t all out, but I’d balanced myself out enough to keep from staying in bed eating cartons of ice cream.

  “I had the ring already,” he said. “I’m doing what’s best.”

  Heat rushed to my face. I knew I was moments from bawling my eyes out and becoming a mess again. “I give it a year before one of you cheat.”

  They stood around, gasping and gawking, but neither of us were winning, we were just cutting deeper into each other.

  “Break it up,” a teacher said, scattering everyone.

  Mila found me. She tugged on my arm and pulled me into a room where the girls, Heather, Mila and Kirsten had gathered. From what I knew, it wasn’t a free period, I was on my way back to the art studio when they’d stole me away.

  “Did you?” she asked, closing the door behind us.

  “What?” I asked, always oblivious to vague questions. I’d learned to ask what? from Char when she would get us to gossip about each other.

  Kirsten laughed, an abrupt ha. “You totally trashed his car, didn’t you?”

  “It doesn’t matte
r if you did or didn’t,” Heather said. “It happened, and it happened for a reason. He deserved it.”

  “I would’ve,” Mila said, and they all agreed on it.

  I gave a shrug. “Whoever did it, hasn’t gotten Char yet,” I said.

  “That’s what we’re here for,” Mila said.

  “I doubt Benny would,” I added. “Although he was cheated on, he doesn’t seem the type to cry over it.”

  “For what it’s worth, we thought you were high school sweethearts.”

  I thought so too, and now the phrase high school sweethearts irritated me. I thought we’d be together forever, as sappy as it was, it was what I felt deep down. Right at the core.

  “That’s not happening now,” I pushed on forward.

  “We want to make sure you’re okay,” Mila said. “And we have some more ideas on what to do, but the whole poisoning ideas were tossed because she’s pregnant. We’re bringing it down a little, just sticking to the prom idea.”

  “I wanted to give her a ridiculous haircut,” Heather said. “But what would that achieve? She’d grow it out, or style it.”

  “I’m okay,” I said. “I think pregnancy is punishment enough.”

  “Well, yeah. She’s gonna get fat. I don’t think she’s been heavier than 135 pounds,” Mila said.

  I was a little mouse around three hungry cats. They picked at wounds and reopened emotions. I told them I had to leave, but I’d be back during free period so they could tell me more of their ideas, like I had a real say in what they wanted to do to get their own back on Char. I had anger in me, real anger, what they had compared to me wasn’t real.

  I ran to the bathroom. Ava stood at the sink, blotting tears from her face. She looked at me in the mirror. We were the only two people in there.

  I stood quietly. “What’s up?”

  She sucked back on a few breaths. “Did you hook up with Kaleb?”

  “What? No!”

  Slapping her hands on the marble sink, she bared her teeth at me. “Don’t lie to me! I knew as soon as it was over with you and Dylan, you’d move on,” she said. “Plus, Kaleb is at your house all the time.” She slapped her hands again.

  “I wouldn’t,” I said. “You’re together, I’d never do that.”