by Sparling,Amy
So I just grin and say, “We need to make a list.”
After getting the good pizza—aka, the pizza from Magic Mark’s restaurant that they deliver on Fridays to be sold by the slice to raise money for the PTO—Dana and I find a spot on a picnic bench outside. The air is crisp and warm, but not too warm, and the fragrant scent of wild flowers fills the air giving it a perfect spring vibe. Other students mull around, eating lunch and goofing off, but our little area gives us some privacy.
“So what’s going on?” Dana asks, peeling off a pepperoni from her pizza and eating it. “Are you still trying to stop being a prude?”
“Yes. Basically I had one awesome day and then I ran out of ideas.” I crack open the lid on my sparkling water and take a sip. “I can’t stall out after one day, Dana. If I do, they might as well make me Biggest Failure in addition to Biggest Prude.”
“You know that list doesn’t mean anything, right? It’s just stupid shit that someone pulls every year.”
I snort. “Try saying that when you’re on the list.”
Dana frowns. “True. So what are we doing?”
I take out a notebook and flip to a blank page. “What else can I do to break this prude status?”
“You mean besides skipping lunch?” she says with a little laugh. “You’re only hurting me when you do that.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever you’re always on the phone with your boy toy during lunch. You totally didn’t miss me.”
“Did too!” she says, punching me in the arm.
“And it wasn’t just lunch,” I say, feeling the need to defend myself and how I’m totally not some good girl prude. “I skipped third period on Tuesday.”
“No way.” She takes a bite of her pizza, and then when I don’t say anything else, she gives me this disbelieving look. “Are you serious?”
I nod in this uppity way, my lips curling into a smile as I eat my pizza. “Yup.”
“What’d you do for ninety minutes? Did you go home and nap or something?”
I’m dying to tell her about the roof and how awesome it was to break the rules in such a spectacular way, but Jonah was pretty serious when he told me not to tell anyone. I give a little shrug. “I just hung out with a fellow rule breaking bad student.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “Why don’t I believe you?”
“Ask Jonah.”
“Thedford?” she says, her voice rising an octave. “No. Freaking. Way.”
I shrug like it’s no big deal, and then I break into a big stupid grin because I can’t help myself. “Yeah, he saw me ditching and hung out with me. It was fun, but no one saw so it’s not like it helped improve my stupid prude status.”
“He’s super hot,” Dana says, her eyes far away. She’s probably daydreaming about those dreamy dark eyes or the way his hair falls in his eyes until he shrugs it away. Or maybe I’m just imagining that.
“I have to give you props, little cousin. You surprised me.”
I heave a sigh. “Yeah, but that was one day. And no one even knows, so I’m still the loser on campus.” I tap my pen to the blank notebook paper. “What are things a non-prude would do? I need to write them down and stick to it.”
“Have sex?” Dana says with a snort.
I roll my eyes, but then I write: Promiscuity.
Dana watches me spell out the word and then she gives me this incredulous look. “That really doesn’t seem like you.”
“Which is why I need it. I’m sick of being me. I’m sick of being goody-goody prude Zoey Caplan. I need to break out of this shell.”
“Okay, well don’t contract chlamydia on your way out of the shell.”
“I’ll be careful,” I say, realizing that we’re talking about me having sex and that entire idea just seems so foreign to me right now. I don’t even have a boyfriend, or any boyfriend prospects. Frowning, I write: get a boyfriend/more dates.
“Okay, but being a prude is mostly sex related, right?” Dana says. “You’re also talking about rule breaking and shit, so maybe you want to do more than just become a huge slut?”
My mouth falls open. “I do not want to become a huge slut, you jerk. I just want to, you know, stop being so boring.”
“First of all, someone who isn’t a prude would have called me a bitch or something, not a jerk,” Dana says, sticking her tongue out at me. “And good. I will only approve of your weird quarter-life crisis if you promise to do all kinds of fun things, not just slutty sex things.”
“No worries there,” I say with a laugh. “Okay, what all have I missed out on in my life by being such a loser?”
“You never go to parties with me,” Dana says.
I write it on the list.
“You don’t drink or do drugs, but that’s probably a good thing.”
I write them both on the list even though I know I have no intention of doing drugs. Maybe a little alcohol. Still, it makes me feel empowered to put them down, as if nothing is off limits in my new lifestyle.
“You never sneak out of the house,” Dana says, listing it off on her fingers. “Never stay out for a late movie because technically the city wide curfew is midnight and most late movies end slightly after that. You never wear any shirts that show off your fabulous rack.”
I laugh and write them all down. Dana has always been jealous of my boobs, which are a little on the big side. But I’ve always been jealous of Dana’s everything else, so we’re not even remotely even.
By the end of lunch, I have this huge freaking list of things to do with my new life. They’re basically just the reverse of everything I used to avoid doing. I write: Zoey’s List to stop Being a Prude at the top and then fold it up and shove it in the zippered outside pocket of my backpack.
The bell rings, and we get up and toss out our trash. “So,” Dana says, drawing out the word. She hooks her arm around my elbow and pulls me close as we walk through the crowds of people heading to third period. “Tell me more about all this time you spent with Jonah.”
Chapter 9
“It’s really not a big deal, Dana.” It feels like I’ve said this a million times, but Dana doesn’t seem to get it.
“It totally is,” she says, pulling a hair tie off her wrist to wrangle her long hair back into a low ponytail. School has only been out for like five minutes and Dana drove me home and then insisted she come inside to talk more about this Jonah situation.
“It’s so not.” I drop onto my bed and kick off my shoes. “He’s not even that nice.”
Dana sits next to me, leaning on her elbow, her expression serious. “You’re totally leaving something out. Tell me all the details.”
“I’ve already told you all the details!” I say with a groan. “I was wandering the hallways bored and he found me and we hung out.”
Dana fixes me with a stare. “You’re lying.”
“Not lying.”
Well, maybe a little bit, but I’m just leaving out the whole rooftop thing because Jonah made it pretty clear that he didn’t want me telling anyone about it. I shrug a little and meet her gaze. “We just hung out. He wasn’t really that nice. We just kind of sat there being bored and ditching class together.”
Dana’s piercing gaze narrows. “You think he likes you?”
“What? No.” Even I realize that my quick reply wasn’t exactly the most convincing. I relax a little and then smile. “It was nothing. There’s no way a guy like that would like me.”
“But would you like him?”
This time I make sure not to shout my answer all defensively. “No.”
“He’s hot though.”
“Yeah,” I say.
“See!” Dana says, jumping to her feet and pointing at me. “You totally like him!”
I kick her in the shin and she yelps, jumping backward. “No I don’t. I can admit someone is hot without liking them.”
Dana rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I think there’s something you’re not telling me but I’ll let it go for now. So what are we doing tonight?”
It’s Friday after all, and I should definitely get to work on my plan of not being a prude. Of course, now that school is over and I’m at home, I realize I haven’t put any thought at all into what I’d do this weekend. “Don’t you have plans with your boyfriend?”
She shakes her head. “Devin has some stupid baseball league thing tonight with his friends. We could go watch them play, but trust me, it’s boring.”
“Nah, that doesn’t sound very anti-prudish.” I wrinkle my nose at the idea of watching someone else’s boyfriend play baseball with his friends who all already have girlfriends. “Are there any parties going on?”
Dana blinks. “Look at you. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that.” She takes out her phone and starts scrolling through her social media feeds. Dana’s not exactly a party animal like some of the idiots (and non-prudes) at my school, but she’s been known to get wild every so often. Usually Devin is with her every step of the way.
I also check my phone, just for something to do, but there’s nothing on it. I’ve long since deleted the messages from Alex, and unless Dana or my parents are texting me, no one else bothers to talk to me on a normal basis. My social media profiles are pretty barren since I hardly ever find things to post.
A few minutes later, Dana makes his hmm sound. She bites her bottom lip, her eyes squinting while she reads something on her phone. I wait in anticipation.
“There’s a gig-slash-party at the Moonlight tonight,” she says finally.
“The Moonlight?”
She gives me this incredulous stare. “Are you kidding me? You know where that is, right?”
I shrug. “Never heard of it.”
“Wow, maybe you do need to get out more.” Dana turns and walks into my closet, beginning the search for an outfit. “I guess I’ve only ever gone without you,” she says while she considers it. “I’m sorry, Zoey. I didn’t realize I was part of the problem.”
“It’s not your problem I’ve always been a shut in.” I heave a sigh and roll over, laying on my stomach on my bed while I watch her go through my closet, grimacing at most of the clothes. “Is it like a club or something?”
She nods. “There’s a few high school garage bands playing tonight. They have under twenty-one nights so we can get in. It could be fun, but Spindle isn’t there and they’re the only garage band I know about.”
“When does it start?” I ask, already coming up with a way to spin this to my dad so he’ll let me go.
“Seven. We should get out by midnight.” She pulls a black tank top from the closet and holds it up to her chest, then puts it back on the hanger.
“Midnight? I don’t think I’ll be allowed to go,” I say.
Dana snorts. “You’re seventeen. Curfew is midnight. So what’s the big deal?”
“Um, I’ve never asked Dad to let me stay out late before. I have no idea what he’ll say.”
Dana’s eyes light up and she makes this evil grin. “Uncle Jerry!” she calls out as she runs to my bedroom door.
“Yeah?” I hear my dad say from the living room. Dana dashes out of my room and into the hall before I can stop her, so I’m left running behind her.
“Hey Uncle Jerry,” she says, putting on this sweet and innocent act. “There’s this school function thing at the club called The Moonlight. It’s like a bunch of band members are performing and stuff. Can we go?”
Now that’s a way to describe a garage band gig at a nightclub.
Dad shrugs. “Sure. Are you driving?”
“Yes sir,” she says. She doesn’t even seem the least bit nervous. “There’s a lot of band members playing so it might last until like, midnight.”
Dad scrolls through channels on the TV guide. “That’s fine. You girls have fun.”
“Thanks!” Dana says. She turns on her heel and grabs my elbow and practically skips back to my bedroom.
“How the hell...?” I say as we get inside my room and close the door behind us. “I can’t believe that just happened!”
Dana laughs. “It’s all in how you word it. Now, let’s pick out a sexy outfit for you.”
Chapter 10
Five minutes after arriving at The Moonlight, I’ve already decided I know how the place got its name. It’s because the only reason anyone would be brave enough to walk inside a place this dingy and rundown would be under the darkness of moonlight. Dana acts like it’s nothing to be concerned with, but as we enter the building that looks like it was converted from some kind of industrial metal barn thing, I’m a little worried it’ll collapse and kill all of us.
A weathered plastic Moonlight sign hangs above the entrance, lit up by yellowing lightbulbs, half of which are burnt out. I try not to curl up my nose like some judgmental goody-goody as we pay our five dollar entry fee and get black x’s drawn on our hands.
This is nothing like I pictured from my limited knowledge of watching parties and clubs in movies. The movies tend to showcase night clubs as glamorous venues with beautiful people everywhere, dancing and having a good time. And while there are quite a few beautiful people, mostly girls I recognize from school and some who graduated a few years ago, there’s also a big share of creeper old men and college frat boys who are already so drunk they can’t stand or filter what they say.
The floor is black and white checkerboard tiles, and I focus on Dana’s footsteps in front of me as she pulls me through the fray and right up to the front of the stage, which looks like it was put together with a bunch of recycled plywood in some high school shop class.
The whole place smells like beer and sweat and a little like how night air smells when you’re outside. Though the stage is set up with band equipment, no one is there, and music is being piped in through speakers that hang from the metal rafter ceiling, which is covered in some weird black foam installation stuff and God I hope it’s not asbestos.
I close my eyes and sigh. Only prudes are worried about asbestos. Chill out, Zoey.
The words chill out ring through my mind over and over again. I have to keep reminding myself that the whole point of coming out tonight is to break out of my shell and have fun like a normal teenager. I can’t keep judging the deplorable conditions of this weird night club, or the people inside of it, or the fact that they’re playing old school Backstreet Boys over the speakers right now.
I just need to have fun.
Dana chats with a group of people who are also waiting at the very front of the stage for the band to come on. I don’t know any of them but they seem maybe a year or two older than us, so I guess she knows them somehow. Dana introduces me, but it’s so loud I don’t really hear any of their names. It’s two guys and two girls and they’re clearly two couples, so in the back of my head I’ve kind of already written them off. I’m supposed to find a guy to flirt with and stop being a prude. Hanging out with couples doesn’t really accomplish that goal.
Finally, the band steps out on stage, and unlike that time Dana’s mom took us to a 5 Seconds of Summer concert, the crowd doesn’t go wild when they see the performers. They just keep talking, drinking, smoking.
I hook my arm around Dana’s elbow so I don’t lose her in this massive crowd of mostly stinky people, and watch the band set up.
I recognize the drummer as this senior at school. He’s in my chemistry class, named something like Jeff or James or something. He’s tall, with light hair and tons of freckles and he’s currently wearing a shirt that makes fun of vegetarians. It’s a good thing he’s not even remotely cute because that dumbass shirt would have ruined it.
Eventually, the band starts playing their set which is a combination of cover songs and crappy originals. Dana, bless her, tries to get into the music and encourages their craptacular performance by clapping after every song. But by the sixth song—and third Metallica cover—I pull on her arm to get her attention.
“This band sucks.”
She laughs. “Maybe we need some magic juice.”
My eyebrows pull together. I’m
wondering if I heard her wrong over all the sounds of dying animals coming from these guy’s instruments. “What’s magic juice?”
“Beer,” she says, like I’m an idiot. “But first I have to pee.”
She pulls me through the crowd and to the back where there’s a sign that says restrooms and so help me God, I’m not going in there to see how gross they most likely are.
“I’ll stay here,” I say, motioning to a little alcove next to the restroom hallway. Dana nods and hands me her purse for safekeeping, then ducks inside the door that says chicks. The other door, I notice with an eye roll, says dudes.
There’s a massive mirror on the wall behind me and it’s mostly covered with band stickers and bumper stickers that say inappropriate things. I take one look at my reflection and any remaining confidence I’d had deflates. My hair is stringy from the humidity outside, and my face is covered in a sleek layer of shine from how freaking hot it is in here. I look like I just got back from working out.
Dana, however, looks like a dark skinned goddess, with perfect hair and makeup and that dazzling smoky eye she’s so good at. I roll my eyes, turn around and lean against the mirror, not wanting to see it anymore. If I’d thought I’d be hit on tonight, I was grossly mistaken.
When Dana returns, she smells like a citrus basket. “What’s that smell?” I ask, wrinkling my nose on habit, but it’s not really bad. It’s actually nice.
“There’s spray bottles in the bathroom,” she says, grabbing her wrist and rubbing it against mine. It’s wet and smells fruity and like summer. “I thought we could use it since this place reeks,” she says with a laugh.
“Thanks,” I mutter. “It doesn’t really help because look at all of this.” I motion to my face. “I look like a troll.”
“No you don’t, you look cute.” She says it automatically, like she’s not even bothering to actually look at me to see for sure, but I don’t blame her. No one has time to deal with insecure friends. Plus, I should get over it myself. Guys won’t flirt with a girl who’s too busy lamenting over her looks.