Kasey Screws Up the World

by Rachel Shane

  Finn shuffled his feet in count to match hers, swaying his hips with the kind of swagger only people with rhythm could manage. As if he couldn’t get sexier.

  The contestants followed my sister’s lead. I purposefully messed up my steps, the only gift I could offer my sister now, after abandoning her. Outvoted, the instructor gave in and taught the correct steps. With her bold moves, Lara won over the crowd and secured one of the coveted semi-final spots.

  I received only a single clap, from the cute boy standing next to me. I forced a smile on my face and pretended I didn’t care. Finn earned one of the dance spots, but bowed out and told me he didn’t want to waste time practicing all week. I hoped that meant waste time away from me.

  It was the only thing I could hold onto that wasn’t disappointment.

  “Think I can go as I am?” I joked. Tonight was formal night. My frizzy hair stuck out as if I’d just been electrocuted.

  Lara squinted at me through the mirror. Gold sparkles glittered across her eyelid. “Take a shower.” She closed her other eye, unintentionally winking at me. “I’ll do your hair and make up.”

  I didn’t deserve it, but I obliged, letting the hot water scald my skin in punishment for my sinful thoughts against my sister earlier. After the shower, Lara pressed the hair iron to a section of my hair. My frizzy curls straightened like taffy. Make-up and I were well acquainted, but there was something about the way Lara applied it to my face that made me shine. I always clumped my eyeliner or caked on too much powder. In her hands, I felt beautiful, like the girl I could be instead of the girl I was. Victoria Cruise instead of boring old Kasey. “Thanks,” I told her.

  She patted my back. “I owed you one after the talent show.”

  Then why did I feel it was the other way around?

  All throughout dinner, Mom switched from proud gushing over Lara’s latest achievement to overbearing stage-mom as she filled Lara’s head with advice. Dad used each break in conversation to throw in a very bad joke. I sat there, forgotten.

  After dinner, Lara and I went to meet the boys. When I spotted Finn, my breath caught in my throat. He leaned against a marble column, decked out in a suit with his hair gelled back spiffier than during the day. The thoughts that went through my head were not appropriate to repeat on this blog.

  I tugged at my dress. All of a sudden, it seemed too loose in the boobs and too tight in the waist. It was a straight coral A-line with ruffles at the bottom and spaghetti straps. When I wore it to the homecoming dance—which I went to with a leftover friend of Denise’s date, who tried to feel me up during every slow dance and spent all the fast dances swigging vodka while I blocked him from the watchful eyes of the teachers—it was considered risqué because we weren’t allowed to wear spaghetti straps at school. Now it felt babyish, especially compared to the way Lara’s red satin clung to her curves and showed off her long legs.

  Finn pulled me into a hug and whispered in my ear, “You look very pretty tonight.”

  A rush of nerves attacked me, gathering in my elbows in the form of sweat. “You too.” I looked up at him from beneath my eyelashes. “I mean…you look hot.”

  He flipped up his collar. “Yeah, you’re right. Good luck fending off the other chicks tonight.”

  I studied my nails as if I didn’t care. “Who says I’ll fend them off? That way I won’t feel guilty when I meet my other boyfriend tonight.”

  He flexed his non-existent muscles. “I can take him.”

  We moseyed to the elevators, weaving around couples gliding through the hallways. I imagined this was what the first class deck of the Titanic was like, only without the tragedy. And the corsets.

  Finn led me down the hallway to our secret lair. I felt like we were going on an underground mission, both of us spies for the C.I.A. When we passed through the hallway where we kissed, my heart pounded in a military march. I wanted the guts to try again. We hit the spot, and we both glanced at each other. Of course, I ruined the nice moment by giggling. Maturity? Not my strong suit.

  They weren’t kidding when they said seventeen and under. Most of the kids in the club probably still had recess at their school. The girls stood on one side, separated from the pack of guys lingering near the far wall. With everyone still in their formal wear, we were one Cha Cha Slide away from this turning into a Bar Mitzvah. A DJ bopped his head behind his booth, pumping dance music that no one had any intention of dancing to.

  “So much for hot chicks,” Finn said. “You excluded of course.”

  “So much for dancing.” The words were out of my mouth before my brain could veto them.

  “We haven’t ruled out dancing.” Finn took a step onto the floor, positioning himself directly beneath the requisite disco ball. He coaxed me to join him.

  I shook my head. “We’ll look stupid. No one else is dancing.” A relieved breath escaped my throat as I longingly stared at the empty dance floor.

  He glanced at me, then at the crowd. “Wait here.”

  Finn walked away to the DJ booth, abandoning me in the middle of the room with a bunch of kids that still liked their mommies staring at me. He spoke to the DJ, who nodded.

  The hip-hop song suddenly stopped, and a slow ballad crooned through the room.

  When Finn returned, he leaned into my ear. “Surely you won’t be embarrassed to slow dance, Victoria Cruise?” Goosebumps popped at his warm breath.

  He had a way of saying just the right thing to get me to agree. With the sweep of his fingers interlocking in mine, he gathered my nerves and crumbled them to the floor.

  My heels clicked on the hardwood floor and echoed throughout the room. Finn clutched my waist, and his grip felt amazing. He smelled delicious, a mixture of fading cologne and the chocolate soufflé they served at dinner. My eyelashes fluttered closed as we swayed to the music. I let our audience of teenyboppers drop away.

  The Rihanna ballad coursed through my veins, surging into my ankles. My feet urged to move across the floor. I fought against the need and pressed my body even closer to his, giving in to another desire, one I was far less afraid of. The smooth fabric of his suit jacket brushed against my bare shoulders. His hands tightened at my hips, holding me in place.

  This was what I needed: an anchor to weigh me down.

  “Come on kids,” The DJ boomed over the microphone, and my eyes snapped open. Finn laughed at the way I gasped. “If you don’t dance,” the DJ continued, “I’m coming out there and pairing you up.”

  Around me, the DJ pulled kids onto the dance floor, placing their hands on each other’s shoulders. He was cute and playful about it. I let out a breath, relieved we weren’t the center of attention anymore. When Finn smiled, little crinkles formed in the corner of his eyes. His lips looked so inviting, and I wanted to feel them pressed against mine again. I leaned in…

  He raised his eyebrows, stuck out his tongue, and crossed his eyes.

  “Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be,” I said, making a monkey face to rival him. He challenged me to a new battle, dropping his hands from my waist to pry his lips open further. His tongue waggled at me. I laughed, and the thought that ran through my mind surprised me. Lara and Hayden probably weren’t having this much fun. They probably weren’t having fun at all. Dancing was now Lara’s job, and she wouldn’t waste precious seconds of practicing to make some funny faces with a cute boy. She’d told me I was funny. I realized in that moment that she wasn’t; she could never relax enough to joke. This was one area that I had the advantage.

  After I rivaled with pressing a finger to my nose and pushing it upward like a pig, complete with oinking, I waited for Finn to make his next face. Instead, I felt pressure from his hands on my waist as he spun me gracefully into a twirl. Before I could even gain my footing, I landed back in his arms and his right foot pushed me into the next step. I could feel the rhythm of the music pumping through my veins and my left foot responded by sliding outward. He pulled me along as he tilted our bodies in a different angle to complete th
e waltz.

  The steps came naturally to me, as did following his lead. We twirled across the floor. All my muscles loosened, finally free of their rigid confine. But I caught the stares from some of the children watching us and I abruptly froze. Finn crashed into me.

  He squinted in question. I didn’t like his accusatory look. I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled his face to mine. Our lips connected and this time, we took the funny faces private as he displayed the same tongue-waggling technique inside my mouth. His hands trailed up my back until they came to rest on either side of my face. He cupped my chin, and I dissolved right there. Screw dancing, I found something better.

  I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I broke away from Finn, leaving him momentarily stunned. His eyes widened, and I spun around to face the DJ.

  “I’m sorry, I have to ask you to take this outside. This is inappropriate.” He pointed at the 17 and under sign emblazoned on the wall.

  My cheeks flamed, but Finn nodded and grabbed my hand. As we walked out of the room, I kept my head down.

  Once outside, the door safely shut behind us, Finn burst out laughing. “We got kicked out of the teen disco!” He leaned his head against the wood panel wall and pulled me next to him.

  All the embarrassment I’d been feeling evaporated with his raspy laugh. If my cell phone worked overseas, I would text Denise right then. I couldn’t tell her about the talent show or the mini-waltz, she’d be disappointed in me that I didn’t try; that I gave up too soon, but she would appreciate the banned-kissing was a story. “What are we going to do now?” Translation: more kissing please?

  “Hmm,” he said, studying me. I could tell by his amused expression he was thinking the same thing. “How could we possibly kill some time?” He pointed to the auditorium. Muffled through the wooden doors, I could hear the sounds of cheesy, Broadway music with lots of vibrato and sweeping trails. “Hang out with our parents?”

  “Tempting, but—”

  “Hey, what’s that?” Finn peeled himself away from the door and headed toward a sign posted next to the auditorium. My lips tingled from the cold air. “Nice! Newlywed show tomorrow. We should totally pretend to be newlyweds, Mrs. Cruise.”

  “If we can’t pass for eighteen, how can we possibly fake being married?”

  “That’s all part of the fun, cutie.” He kissed me on the cheek. “It’ll be hilarious.”

  And that was the magic word, the one thing I was better than Lara at.

  Displaying 3 out of 10 comments

  Ali said…

  The one thing you’re better than Lara at is FAILING.

  Crista said…

  And betraying people.

  Lonnie said…

  Good one, Ali! Too bad you can’t make a career out of kicking people when they’re done, because you’re excellent at it!

  WHEN I ARRIVED AT my locker on Friday morning, a crowd greeted me. I knew my classmates enjoyed gawking at me, but ogling a slab of red metal seemed to be taking things to extremes.

  “Excuse me,” I said, sticking an arm out to separate two people so I could slip between them. Once I weaved my way through the inner layer of onlookers, I found Lonnie at the center of it all. He wore ivory plastic gloves like the kind the school nurse used, making him look a little too domestic for seven A.M. A bucket of soapy water rested at his feet and a sponge dripped from his fingers.

  “Move along.” He flicked water at the crowd. “Nothing to see here.”

  No one budged, they only whispered.

  He pointed the sponge at me. “That means you, Kasey.”

  “That’s my locker.” I tried to dodge around him, but he had his back pressed against the door.

  “Seriously.” He leaned down, speaking in a low voice. “Come back after first period. You don’t want to see this.”

  A lead quarry settled into my stomach. “What happened to my locker?”

  “It got a little makeover. But don’t worry. I’m restoring it to its original glory.” He patted the locker behind his back.

  I shoved him gently aside and he obliged, stepping out of the way so I could see the damage. The gasp that escaped my lips echoed the ones coming from the crowd.

  Written in loopy girl handwriting in black Sharpie marker: SAT word of the day: Finn. Definition: Figment of Kasey’s imagination, loser, stalling tactic.

  I snatched the sponge from Lonnie and put all my muscle power into scrubbing the black letters.

  Lonnie grabbed my shoulder. “Kasey, it’s okay. Let me do that.”

  I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “No, you don’t have to, really.” The more he hung out with me, the more I suspected he would become a target as well. Plus, scrubbing Finn’s name off my locker couldn’t be fun for him either.

  “Break it up! Break it up!” a teacher yelled, clapping his hands until the crowd dispersed, leaving only one person leaning against the lockers across the hallway, smirking. Ali Montauk.

  I dropped the sponge into the bucket with a splash that coated my legs and stalked up to her, abandoning Lonnie yet again. “You did this.”

  “Me?” She flattened her hand against her chest and fluttered her eyelashes in mock-innocent fashion. “I thought you were the one taking all the blame.”

  “I liked it better when you left me alone.”

  “Doubt that.” She peeled herself from the locker and stood upright. “You know though, I think the graffiti makes a good point.” She jutted her chin toward it. “You’re posting all these self-indulgent things about oh-what-a-cute-boy Finn is and how much you deserve the spotlight and blah blah blah.” Ali stepped so close to me, I could smell her peach shampoo. “When do we get to the good stuff? Like what the hell did you do to Lara? And Denise? And loser number two over there.”

  “Hi, Ali,” Lonnie said from across the hallway in response.

  I challenged her stare. “I’m getting to that stuff.”

  “Well, I’m getting impatient. Does Lara even know about this blog yet?”

  My lips twitched, but Ali caught it.

  “Oh my God. She doesn’t know! You’ve been too chicken to tell her.” She clapped her hands and threw her head back in laughter. “Well don’t worry, I’ll fix that.”

  BEST IN FAUX

  Posted by Kasey at 12:27 P.M.

  Friday, September 5

  Past Mood: Mischievous

  SAT Word Of The Day: Cosplay. Definition: Because playing is more fun when you’re not yourself.

  FWIW, I’m not stalling. What I did to my sister—and everyone else—won’t make sense without context. This is my confession, but it’s your choice whether you read it or not. Looking at you specifically, Ali. And I’m addressing you because I know you’re still reading. You can’t stay away from other people’s misery.

  So here’s some more for your ridicule arsenal.

  Once Lara left for the mandatory nine A.M. dance practice Mom had forced upon her, I raced to her jewelry container. The night before, Finn and I had concocted a plan. We quizzed each other about our secret identities to use in The Newlywed game. We were Mr. and Mrs. Cruise. Victoria and Clark. I’d suggested “Tom Cruise” to be funny, but Finn wanted to be named after Superman’s alter ego.

  Since I never felt the need to cultivate my own jewelry collection when I could just borrow something of Lara’s, I found one silver ring in her stash. The overpriced souvenir shop on the ship provided the other one for Finn. Hopefully my parents wouldn’t notice that I charged it to their account. I put both rings in my purse, then threw on one of Lara’s sundresses and heels and left the room before she could return.

  At the Lido deck buffet, I waited for Finn near the trays. People tried to maneuver around me as I snaked my body left and right to get out of their way. The smell of bacon and eggs made my stomach growl. Finn sauntered in, wearing his white polo shirt and khaki pants. We were supposed to look like adults, but I still felt like a kid playing dress up even though in seven months, I would be legally declared abl
e to vote and buy cigarettes I’d never smoke. Silly government.

  “Hey hubby, I found your wedding ring. You keep losing it like you’re ashamed to be seen with it.” I handed him the ring.

  “Nope, just ashamed to be seen with you, sweetie.” He grinned. “Where’s yours?”

  I held up my hand where the ring rested on my finger. He grabbed my hand, removed the ring, and then slipped it back on again. The gesture would have been much more romantic if it had been accompanied by a bended knee. We held out our unmatching rings and laughed at the pathetic display.

  “Meet back here with our trays?” Finn grabbed an orange tray from the stack and handed it to me.

  “I thought we’d practice.” I pressed a finger to his chest and gently pushed him toward the opposite buffet line. “You’re supposed to know me well, so you get my food and I’ll get yours.”

  “This should be fun. I’ll just fill up the tray with everything they make.”

  I held up my tray like a shield. “I hate you.”

  He nudged my shoulder. “No, you love me. We’re married, remember?”

  I wanted more than anything to say, “Right, I love you,” but I couldn’t bring myself to utter the words, even as a joke. Instead, I grabbed a roll of silverware.

  I wanted to impress him with how well I knew his tastes. Scouring the food selection, I remembered last time he ate my powdered donut, and then went for the bacon so I placed those on the tray first. Did he drink tea or coffee? Eeny-meeny-miny-moe landed on coffee. I also threw in some eggs and pancakes for good measure. And chocolate cake. You couldn’t go wrong with chocolate cake.

  I carried the tray to a table toward the window and waited for him. He came back a few minutes later with only a small slice of cantaloupe and a glass of water. “You forgot my OJ,” he said as he scanned the tray in front of me.

  “You forgot my food,” I said.

  “My wife’s on a diet.”