I pass Luke on my way back to my locker, and he grabs my arm. “Hey, listen, Depola, I’m really sorry you had to find out that way. Grace and I—”
“You and Grace deserve each other, fuckhead,” I say, which isn’t exactly a carefully articulated response but it will have to do. I shove past him and display my signature flailing run that I’ve worked so hard to keep off camera.
Kelly and Amy rush over as I fall against my locker and start weeping. “I-I-III’m getting what I d-deseeeeeerve.”
“Easy there. Nobody deserves to be ugly crying on national television.” Kelly puts an arm around my shoulders.
“Come on, it’ll be okay.” Amy comes around my other side.
I swipe my snot with my sleeve and allow the two of them to guide me down the hallway. “How did I get so caught up in this?” I ask between sobs. “And now Rick doesn’t want me anymore.”
“Rick Shuebert?” Amy makes a face. “He doesn’t really seem like your type.”
“He’s exactly my type,” I practically screech.
“You’re young, Shannon. You’ll get over it,” Kelly says. When I start crying even harder, she adds, “Hey, listen, we’re all in this up to our necks. Everyone’s just doing their best to get through it.”
“You’re right.” I nod and take a shaky breath. Looking back and forth between the two of them, I say, “This reality show is hell.”
“Who said anything about the show?” Kelly steers us into the girl’s bathroom. “I’m talking about high school.”
Chapter Fifteen
I refuse to come to the door for Victoria when she shows up with my clothing allowance. Josie finally convinces her that it will be best for everyone if she just gives me a little space. But we’ll take that sizable check, thankyouverymuch.
I tell Josie to keep the money, and I drag armloads of fancy outfits into the bathroom where the cameras can’t see me. Settling myself in the tub, I begin tearing seams and shredding fabric. I haven’t held a needle in my hand since Victoria caught me sneaking a few stitches into a patch of material back at Prom Queen Camp. She’d acted so horrified you would’ve thought she caught me setting fire to the curtains.
The quilt I’m designing in my head will be covered with appliqués of hearts, smoke, and broken science beakers. I’m calling it Chemical Properties of Heartbreak, and it perfectly expresses my pain over blowing things with Rick.
Now the image that replays in my mind is of him wiping my lipstick off his mouth with disgust.
In spite of my exquisite emotional agony, it feels amazing to be sewing again, as I violently cut and tear expensive designer clothes for material.
Josie is worried about me, so I tell her I’m just depressed over the horrible episode of Wannabes with Luke cheating on me. But when she catches me throwing away the remains of my shredded wardrobe items, she decides it’s time to get Mom involved.
Josie sets her up so she can watch The Prom Queen Wannabes on BubeTube in her study. When Mom emerges hours later, she hurries over to hug me tearfully. Josie has cleared out to a friend’s house for a sleepover, and I lay my head on Mom’s shoulder a moment before pulling back.
“Oh, sweetheart. I had no idea you were going through so much.”
“Well, now you get to say I told you so.”
She shakes her head. “No. I get to feel horrendous guilt for not protecting you. I thought the show might get you over your self-esteem issues. Then I saw how self-confident you seemed this year, and I figured everything was working out.”
I laugh. “Sure, everything worked out just great.”
Mom hugs me again, and I soak it up. She says, “Well, I’m not helping Luke negotiate any scholarships now. I can’t believe he cheated on you that way.”
“It’s fine, Mom. I’m over him. You should get that bonus. Especially since we’re clearly not about to become millionaires.”
Mom laughs. “Did you ever really think this was a good way to become a millionaire?”
“Yes,” I say, “I guess I did. But I can see now it still wouldn’t have been worth the price. Marnie isn’t speaking to me, and she’s worth a cool mil at least.” I don’t add in the cost of losing Rick.
Mom pats my shoulder. “I guess there are some lessons you just have to figure out the hard way.”
“And some lessons I’ve needed to learn in front of thousands of viewers.” I pull my over-processed hair into a rough ponytail and flop onto the couch. “I can’t believe how caught up I got.”
“Go easy on yourself, sweetie,” Mom says. “We all have our blind spots.”
When Thomas comes over, he assumes my presence in the living room means I want to watch one of the stupid old black-and-white movies that he loves so much. Mom sits beside me rubbing my arm while he works on his super-fattening cheesy dip in the kitchen.
The phone rings, and I look up at one of the cameras faithfully recording my abject misery. I resist the urge to rip the damn thing off of its mount and instead ask Mom, “So, any chance that TV contract you negotiated has an exit clause?”
She turns toward me, but before she can answer, Thomas hurries in, holding the phone to her. “It’s Kate,” he says. “She sounds upset.” He stands, nervously squeezing the spatula, and I’m touched by the way he watches my mother take the call.
Mom’s voice rises in alarm as she clutches the phone to her ear. She squeaks ominous one-word questions like “When?” and “How?” Please, not Aunt Kate’s dormant cancer. I start to pray silently, feeling stupid for thinking I’m the only one in the world who has problems.
“I’ll be right there.” Mom clicks the phone off and turns to us. Her eyes seem wild. “Kate’s husband, John, just died.” She says it so simply. I’m almost relieved for a moment that it’s not Kate’s cancer before I feel the full weight of what she’s just said. I’ve known him my whole life. He can’t be dead.
“I’m an awful friend,” Mom says as she staggers about gathering her purse and keys. “I didn’t even know he was back in the hospital. Things progressed so fast…organs started shutting down…”
“Stop,” Thomas says firmly, facing Mom and forcing a hug on her. She collapses into his embrace. “You are an excellent friend, and you need to be the strongest version of yourself, because Kate needs you now.”
Mom stands up straighter in his arms and nods. “You’re right. Kate needs me.” With that, she draws away from him and strides toward the door.
“Whoa, hold on. I’ll drive you,” he says.
“Oh, right.” Mom seems caught in a cloud of shock. “Let me get some things. I’ll probably be staying the night.” Her eyes focus on me, and I wave her off, indicating that of course I’ll be fine.
She heads to her bedroom to pack a bag, and Thomas and I stand awkwardly in the living room, the only thing we have in common gone. “Kate’s lucky to have her.”
I nod. “They’ve been friends for forever.”
“It’s a rare friendship that lasts a lifetime.”
Even though I know he’s just making polite conversation, I can’t help but crumple onto the couch. My life has turned to crap, and I need Marnie. Just like Kate needs Mom.
After a few moments of hyperventilating with my face in my hands, I take a hitching breath and rub the blur from my eyes. I expect to find myself alone in the living room, but Thomas is there, watching me with concern. Wow, a guy who doesn’t bolt at the sight of emotions? He’s a keeper, Mom.
Thomas doesn’t offer to hug me or anything—I suppose that would be weird—but he does walk over to the hutch to grab a tissue. Handing it to me, his eyes flick toward the hidden camera. My mind goes straight to Is he having inappropriate thoughts? *ick* But when I feel the weight of the tissue in my palm, I stop freaking out. Something wallet-sized, flat, and weighty is wrapped inside it. I’m careful to not react.
“No need to return that,” he says.
My heart is throbbing, but I keep my voice even. “You sure you don’t want my snotty tissue b
ack?”
Thomas gives the slightest smile as Mom reappears from the bedroom with an overnight bag over her shoulder. She pulls a tired smile from someplace deep and looks back and forth between us. “Thanks for understanding. And for the ride.”
Thomas and I assure her that the ancient movie we were going to watch can wait. As soon as they leave, I head to the bathroom. My camera-free zone.
Sitting on the edge of the tub, I look at the tissue cupped in my hands a few moments. How did Thomas know?
Finally, I unwrap the object he’s privately passed to me. It’s exactly what it felt like. A cell phone. A disposable cell phone that isn’t set to record every conversation I have. A beautiful untraceable private cell phone that I can use to call Marnie.
***
I know I have no right to ask my ex-bestie for anything. Or to even expect her to take my call, but I need to try. I make a silent plea to the wart gods of friendship and dial Marnie’s number. She answers after the second ring, which I think is a good sign, until I realize my name didn’t come up on her caller ID. Her picking up just means Marnie answers calls from Unknown instead of letting them go to voicemail like I do.
“Uh, hi?” My voice cracks. “It’s me. What’s up?”
“Shannon?” She says my name with a whoosh of air. Like I surprised the breath out of her. When I don’t reply, she says, “What’s up? Well, let me see, other than the fact that we haven’t spoken in about five months?”
I immediately start sobbing. What the hell was I thinking? I don’t deserve to speak to her.
“So what?” she snaps. “Luke cheats on you and I’m supposed to clean up the mess?”
“It’s not that. We never even really liked each other.”
“Then why the hell were you two going out?”
“I don’t knoooow,” I wail. “I’ve spent the whole year manipulating people so they’ll vote for me to be Prom Queen. I don’t even know who I am anymore! And now, here you are, being nice to me, and I don’t deseeeerve it.”
“This is not me being nice.”
“You didn’t hang up.” My voice hitches. “That’s nice.”
I continue crying, and she asks, “Would you feel better if I did hang up?”
“Infinitely! I’ve been so selfish…” The line goes dead. “Hello?” I can’t believe she just hung up on me! As I sit, staring at the phone in my hand, it starts vibrating. I hit Answer, and before I can say anything, Marnie shoots, “There. Feel better?”
“I…I’m not sure…”
“I can’t believe you thought running for Prom Queen was a good idea.”
“I know! I’m a complete imbecile.”
“What the hell made you agree to even be a part of that show?”
“I don’t know. I just really wanted to escape my life for a while. You know, see what it would feel like to not be the Elf Ucker.”
“I knew it! Shannon!” Marnie sounds so annoyed with me I want to hide under my bathroom sink. “I warned you that focusing on that horseshit made it worse. Now look at where it’s brought you.”
“I know. I know!” I’m more frustrated with myself than she is. “I thought that getting even with Grace would make me feel better. But making her feel bad just made me feel even worse.”
“Yeah, I heard that song you made up. Much more creative than ‘Tiny Pecker’ but equally wrong.”
“Watching myself sing it to her on TV made me see how ugly I was acting.”
“Nice if you could’ve seen that a little sooner. Like maybe before blowing senior year.”
“I’m sorry. This was supposed to be our best year ever.”
“Yes, it was.”
“I will still be saying I’m sorry to you when we are both one hundred.”
“That’s a start.”
“I hate myself.”
“You should always love yourself, but it is good to acknowledge when you’ve been acting like a jerk or a conformist.”
“I’ve been mean and selfish and small-minded,” I list my offenses, eager for Marnie to forgive me.
But she just adds, “And shallow, not to mention becoming part of a branding spectacle that is sucking off the teat of a brainwashed consumerist system.”
“Um, okay. There’s that. Plus, I blew things with a great guy who actually liked me for me.”
After a pause, Marnie asks, “Have you spoken to Rick?”
“I went by the lab the other day and er…saw him. Actually I kind of tried to kiss him.” I cringe at the image of him wiping his mouth.
“You’re lying!”
“I wish I was lying. He totally rejected me. Thought I was just rebounding from Luke. It’s hopeless.”
“Wow. I thought he still liked you,” Marnie says.
“Well, he’s over me now.”
“I was shocked when I came back from the Bahamas and found out you two didn’t hook up.”
“Um, I was surprised when I saw that you and James had. Marnie! I’m so happy for you guys. Is he a great boyfriend or what?”
I can hear the smile in her voice as she tells me about James realizing they were perfect for each other during a late-night study cram. Of course, Marnie already knew this, but sometimes boys need a little help catching up. She shares about the ups and downs of their relationship, and the time we’ve spent apart dissolves in our whispers and giggles.
It feels so good to be talking to her that I start crying again. Softly at first, but when Marnie asks, “Are you okay?” I curl myself into a ball on the bathroom rug and just go with sobbing. I don’t hold back. Big wails mingle with anguished moans as I let myself feel every real emotion coursing through me. I cry long and loud over blowing things with Rick. I cry for Aunt Kate losing her husband. And I cry because of how horribly I’ve treated my best friend. And yet here she is—listening.
“Shannon?” Marnie’s voice sounds concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. *hic* I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“No, actually, *hic* I’m so not fine. But I’m not going to spend the whole night crying on my *hic* bathroom floor if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Um, why are you on your bathroom floor?”
“Cameras.” I let out a shaky sigh. “Actually, Marns, do you think there’s any *hic* chance I can—”
“—come over to my house for a sleepover?” she finishes my sentence for me. Just like old times.
Chapter Sixteen
Marnie and I hug for a full minute when I arrive, and then she tosses my bag on the couch and drags me directly to the kitchen. There, she teaches me how to mix a green clay mask out of regular household ingredients that aren’t part of the “big beauty brainwash machine,” as she puts it. “We need to purify your pores from all that Nőrealique shit.”
“I need to purify my soul after the way I’ve acted all year.” I laugh as we slap green goop on each other’s faces.
“Well, it was for a shot at One! Million! Dollars!” Marnie says, and I love that she totally nails the cheesy way they announce it on the show.
While our masks dry, the two of us move to her bedroom where she has sewing supplies already laid out on her bed. I almost start crying again at the sight. I’m pretty sure just puffs of air would come out of my tear ducts at this point. As we sew, I talk about Rick and the fact that even the sound of his name fills me with deep regret.
“So, the two of you haven’t even spoken since you tried to kiss him?” Marnie asks.
“Honestly, I don’t know what I’d even tell him,” I say. “‘Sorry for getting my stupid lipstick on you’?” I flop myself across her bed, bury my face deep in her pillow, and give a cleansing scream.
Then I remember the clay mask still drying on my face. I’m the worst friend in the universe. I raise my head to find smears of green all over Marnie’s pillow. “Oh no, I’m so sorry.” I grab a tissue from the nightstand and start scraping the green gunk off her pillowcase.
“Would you please stop t
hat? We do have a washing machine.” She grabs my hand holding the tissue. “And I know Rick really did like you. Maybe he just hates Nőrealique lipstick.”
“Yeah, right,” I say.
“Honestly, Shannon. Since finding out about the show, he blames Nőrealique for turning you into a…um…” She covers her mouth with her hand.
“Turning me into a bitch, right? Rick thinks I’m a total bitch.”
Marnie looks me in the eye, swiping at the clay on my face with a tissue. “Listen, he was really hurt when you started dating Luke.”
I cover my head with my hands. “Why didn’t anyone stop me?” I look at Marns. “I mean, besides those times when you tried to stop me.”
Marnie’s mom knocks softly on the door. “Girls?” she calls. There are two women here who’d like to talk to Shannon?”
When Marnie opens the door, her mother’s eyes are wide. “They’re awfully fancy,” she says.
Mickey and Victoria look like a couple of well-dressed mannequins that someone set up in the middle of the homey living room as a prank of some sort. Victoria’s body language says she’s afraid one of the cross-stitched pillows might jump up and bite her. Mickey’s body language says she’s flat out pissed.
“Hi, Mickey,” I greet casually. “What brings you to the middle of nowhere?”
Victoria squints at me. “Is that mask one of ours? You know you’re only to use Nőrealique products. That includes skin and hair care.”
Marnie gives a loud laugh.
“May I please see Shannon alone for a moment?” Mickey smiles tightly and unclenches her arms as Marnie and her mom obligingly head for the kitchen. Without breaking eye contact with me, Mickey tells Victoria to go outside and keep the car running. Victoria looks happy to escape all of the domestic handmade crafts.
Once we’re alone, Mickey looks me up and down in a way that’s designed to make me squirm. “You and I need to discuss a certain contractual matter or two.”
I squint at her. “How did you know where to find me?”
She ignores my question with a wave of her hand. “Am I right in assuming you planned to spend the night in this unapproved location?”
The Real Prom Queens of Westfield High Page 16