“No, as in telling her that if she doesn’t drop out of the prom queen race, she’ll be sorry. Two nights ago she was at a game and her shoes got stolen. Could be just coincidence, but I thought we’d go to the game and watch her cheer. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious.”
One of the ever-present camera guys darts across the room and trains his lens on me. These guys are like roaches. They’re everywhere and impossible to get rid of. I turn around and give him my back. Which puts me right up in Luke’s space.
“Yeah, I’d love to go with you. Er, I mean, love to go to the game. But I kind of need a ride.”
“Still don’t have an alternator?”
“My mom’s making me pay for it myself.” I see his lips twitch.
“Summer Fresh is looking for part-time help.”
“Oh, wouldn’t you just love for me to be elbow deep in panty liners. Well, no thanks. There is nothing that will make me work there.”
chapter twenty-two
You’re not going to buy me a prom dress?” I clutch my phone with both hands.
“No, honey. Your mother and I both think you need to learn the value of money.”
“But Dad, I do value money. A lot.”
I hear him laughing. “Get another job, Bella. And save your money. Besides, you have tons of formals from your Hilliard school days.”
“Both those are so last year, and I have to pay to get my car fixed.”
“Christina and Marisol said to tell you hello.”
Ugh! Is he even listening to me? Does he even care that I’m wearing last year’s dress and riding to school in a funeral hearse?
“Christina wants to know how you feel about a summer wedding?”
“Remember how I felt when I got food poisoning and yakked all over dinner? That’s how I feel.”
“Yes, sweetie, your cookies are excellent.” He laughs into the phone. “Sorry, Bella, I was talking to Marisol. She made me peanut butter cookies. Isn’t that adorable? Now what were you saying?”
“Nothing.” Like it would matter to you and sweetie. “I have to get ready for the wrestling match in Tulsa. I’ll see you soon, Dad. Love you.” God, I seriously need some help dealing with my dad’s new life. This is not going well. And I thoroughly dislike that cookie-making little girl.
I grab my purse and coat and head down the hall. When I hear noises from Budge and Robbie’s room, I decide to backtrack and peek in.
Robbie’s cape is gone and he’s in regular clothes. A flannel shirt replaces a superhero t-shirt. He pushes a button on a remote and a kung-fu guy repeats a move on TV. Robbie attempts a karate chop, then plays it again.
“Whatcha doing, buddy?”
Robbie jumps, hands ready to chop.
“Whoa, don’t hurt me.” I hold up my arms in surrender.
“I wouldn’t hurt you, Bella.” He bows like a sensei. “I know these hands can be lethal weapons.”
I take a seat on his bed. What happened to the Spider-Man sheets? “Where’s your cape, Robbie?”
“It’s in my closet.”
“Why?”
He shrugs and turns his attention back to the TV. “Maybe I want to be a superhero in disguise.”
“Why are you watching martial arts movies?”
“Because Dad wouldn’t teach me any of his moves.”
“And you have to know how to hurt someone because . . . ? Robbie, look at me.”
He pivots back around but stares a hole in the shaggy carpet. “Superman and Spider-Man know how to defend themselves. It’s part of the job.”
“Says who?”
He lifts his head. “Because I—” He shakes his carrot-top head as if erasing the sentence on his tongue. “Because that’s what happens in the movies, of course.”
I drop to my knees and get eye level. “You’d tell me if anyone was picking on you, right?”
Jake chooses that moment to stick his head in the doorway. “Let’s go, guys.” He winks at his son. “Daddy’s itching to gut-wrench someone tonight.”
Used cars. Why can’t he sell used cars?
“Are you nervous, Daddy?” Robbie asks, totally disconnecting on our conversation.
“Nah. If I win tonight, I win. If not, that’s in God’s hands too. It’s been a great ride being on the reality show, eh?”
“Oh, it’s been a blast.” I force a smile. “The camera guys are just like family now.” A family of rodents.
Four hours later I’ve had popcorn, a burger, a candy bar, an extra large Sprite, and six trips to the bathroom. Jake did a great job this evening, and I hope at least for his sake that it’s not his last week on Pile Driver of Dreams.
“Laaaaddddies and gentlemennnn!” The announcer moves to the center of the ring. “Tonight we have Oklahoma’s own Cap-tain! Iron! Jack!”
The entire crowd squints an eye and growls, “Arrrgh.”
“Many of you have watched. Many of you have even voted.” The screens around the arena change to satellite feeds of the four other contestants in their own venues. “I have the distinct privilege of sharing the results. Will Captain Iron Jack be returning next week to Pile Driver of Dreams or is he down for the final count?”
Mom and I scream with the rest of the fans. There has to be at least a couple thousand here.
“The remaining contestants will be in Nevada next Friday night as we move the semifinals to Las Vegas! Our wrestlers will meet and compete for the first time!”
“Go Captain Iron Jack!” Budge yells. “Sin City, here I come!”
“Are you ready, Tulsa?” The announcer opens an envelope.
Jake stands in the middle of the ring next to the announcer. Mickey stands below, his hands clasped like he’s praying.
“Captain Iron Jack”—the announcer wraps his arm around Jake’s shoulders—“I’m afraid I have some bad news for you.”
Groans ricochet all over the arena. My heart plummets.
“The bad news is Vegas ain’t Oklahoma, but Captain Iron Jack, that’s exactly where you’re headed! You’re going to Vegas, baby!”
The crowd erupts and the four of us jump up and down, screaming. He did it! Jake really did it.
I reach into my purse and grab my phone. “Luke? Jake made it. He’s going on to the next round.”
He laughs. “That’s awesome. Wait just a sec, okay?”
I hear a beep.
“Taylor?”
Ugh. “Nope. Still me. Bella.”
“Must’ve lost her. Tell Jake I’m really happy for him.”
I struggle to hear him with the noise around me. “Yeah, I’ll do that. Bye.”
“Hey, Bella?”
“Yes?”
I hear him breathe deep. “Thanks for calling me.”
Silence. “That’s what friends do.” And I hang up, a little sadder than I was only one minute ago.
chapter twenty-three
But I’m really qualified. Nobody knows ice cream better than me.”
The owner of the Truman Dairy Barn shakes her white poodlecurl head one last time, and I leave. I’ve been all over Truman today. Nobody is hiring.
I hop in my mom’s Tahoe. Times are hard. I need my car fixed and I need a prom dress. And prom shoes. And prom earrings, lipstick, hair, nails, perfume, necklace, and matching handbag. The five dollars in my pocket is not going to cover it. I miss my dad’s credit card.
This morning in my quiet time I read a devotional about pride. It said that God dislikes it so much, he gives us the cold shoulder. I certainly don’t need that. And I know I’m supposed to resist pride, and it’s wrong. But I have yet to find anyone in the Bible whose only job option left was cranking out maxi-pads. Who needs a car anyway? I’m doing fine catching rides in the hearse.
Okay, actually, no I’m not. I’m forever thinking I smell formaldehyde. Fine, God. I’m ready to suck it up and gain some humility. I can’t afford you being mad at me. Not with a maniac at large.
Taylor Swift blasts from my phone, and I pick it up.
>
“Hey, Hunter.”
“What are you doing?”
“Deciding whether I want to give up my car or give up my dignity. I have to get a job, and the only place that’s hiring is the factory where Jake works.”
“Doesn’t he make—”
“Yes!”
Hunter’s laugh does not make me feel like turning the car toward the industrial park to Summer Fresh.
“These are desperate times, Hunter. You have no idea.”
He laughs again, but this time it’s bitter. “Oh, I know more about that than you think. At least you have prom to look forward to.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I should just skip it until next year. It’s going to be really expensive, I don’t have a job, and I don’t even have a date.”
“I’ll go with you.”
I chuckle. “I’m so sure.”
“Seriously. Dad has business in Tulsa in March. I’ll just see if he’ll postpone it until your prom weekend.”
“You’d do that for me?”
Hunter’s voice is soft and familiar. “I’d do anything for you.”
“And I won’t find you outside making out with my best friend under a tree and some twinkly lights?”
“I thought you had forgiven me.”
“I have.” Forgetting seems to be another matter. “Hunter, I would love it if you’d go to prom with me. It would mean a lot.”
“Then it’s settled.”
I balance the phone between my cheek and shoulder. “So how are you feeling these days?”
“I’m okay.” His tone says to drop it.
“Any updates?”
“They’ve ruled out a few more things. I’ve got more tests this week. Don’t worry about it. You have enough to think about.”
“Knowing the doctors can’t figure out what’s wrong with you and it could possibly be fatal is not something I can just push out of my mind.”
“I never said I was dying.” I hear him clicking on a keyboard and know this topic has probably lost his attention. “I just said it was severe, and I wouldn’t be sure of the outcome. Nothing has changed. But talking to you always makes me feel better. And I know you’re praying for me and stuff. It’s like sometimes I can feel your faith, you know?”
Being Hunter’s friend is the so the right thing to do.
As I end my call, I realize in the last few minutes I’ve driven the Tahoe to Summer Fresh. The entrance to the sprawling concrete building looms before me. If Hunter sees Christ in me, then what would Christ do? Probably move to the next town.
No, he’d suck it up, go in, and fill out an application. God, give me strength as I walk through this dark, dark valley of life.
Here goes nothing. I jump out of the SUV, call my overly protective mom to check in, and head toward the Kotex Compound.
“I’d like an application for a job. Part-time.”
A gray-headed woman eyes me over the top of her bifocals. “You look familiar.”
“I’m Jake Finley’s stepdaughter.” Throwing around a shift manager’s name ought to mean something.
“Nah. That’s not it.” She opens a drawer and rifles through it. “Yessiree. Here we go.” She pulls out an Enquirer and pokes her nail at a picture. “This is you, ain’t it? I love this show!”
“Can I just get an application?” I’m not sure if I’m having a moment of maturity or insanity, but it could wear off at any moment.
“I know this is you. Says here you’ve got two boyfriends.”
“I really don’t—”
“Says here you solve local crimes.”
“It’s not like—”
“And you’ve secretly been dating Prince Harry of England?”
I step a little closer at the clearly doctored picture of me and the prince. Nice. “Just between you and me, it’s all true. But if Harry finds out I told, he’d stop buying me diamonds, so let’s just keep that one on the DL.”
She nods her gray head vigorously. “Look at me—buttoning my lip.” She presses her mouth together. “Mmmmmm.”
“Great. I knew I could count on you. Um, application please?”
She makes some more muffled sounds and hands me a blank form and a pen.
“Ginger, do you have those accounts ready?” A man lays some manila folders on the receptionist’s desk. “Hey, aren’t you Jake’s kid?”
Behind him Ginger makes fish lips and shakes her head.
“Yes, I’m his stepdaughter. I’m, uh, filling out an application. He said you were hiring.”
“Reuben Pierce.” We shake hands, then he grabs the form. “You’re hired.”
“Just like that?” No. That was too quick. “I’m working on a story on teen jobs for the school paper, so I might not be around too long.” Please tell me that’s not acceptable and to go merrily on my way.
“I can tell a good pad maker when I see one. And we here at Summer Fresh always like to help out Truman High.”
Oh. How generous.
“I want to see you here Monday after school. Can you handle that?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What’s that?”
“I mean, yes. I’ll be here.” We shake hands again, and I wave good-bye to Ginger, who now is doing the lock-and-key number and pointing to her lips.
Outside, I spy a familiar white van across the street. “Yes!” I yell. “I’m going to make feminine products! Stick that on your TV show!” And I peel away.
A couple of hours later, Mom knocks on my bedroom door. “Luke’s here, honey.”
I save the article I’m working on and skip down the stairs in my jeans, Chucks, and bobbing ponytail.
He sits in the living room and talks to Budge.
“Just gonna grab my coat,” I yell and detour into the kitchen where I left it. I wander into a serious heart-to-heart between Jake and Robbie.
“I’m going to ask you one last time, Robbie. Why didn’t you finish any of your schoolwork this week?”
As I reach for my jacket on the back of an empty chair, my little stepbrother shrugs. “I dunno.”
Jake holds a note with the school letterhead. “Until your teacher calls me with a positive update, no TV.”
“But Dad, I have to watch my superheroes. And I got some judo DVDs.”
“You’ll be doing homework, son. No TV this week.”
There’s a cramp in my heart as little Robbie snivels into his shirtsleeve. What is going on with that kid?
Luke stands up as I enter the living room. “You look nice. Very casual and sporty.”
At least he didn’t say I look like a good pad maker.
Luke holds an umbrella over my head as we walk outside into a growing rainstorm. As usual, he opens my door and shuts me in. Has Hunter ever opened a car door for me?
“Lindy said to tell you she has your Match-and-Catch envelope. You left it the day we passed out the results,” Luke says.
“I’ve been too busy to even think about it. I guess I’m just hanging in the wind—not knowing who my true love might be.”
“Your prom date could be in that envelope.”
“Already have one,” I blurt without thinking. A full minute of silence ensues. Then another. “You’re not going to ask me who it is, are you?”
Luke takes his eyes off the road long enough to look at me with bland eyes. “Let me guess. Hunter called and said just the right thing, and you’re convinced even more that he’s changed, and now he’s going to ride up in a white Hummer and escort you to prom.”
“Somebody did not put on his happy pants today.” I stare out the window at a slice of lightning. “I suppose your girlfriend is perfect?”
Luke turns his 4Runner into the gym parking lot and finds a spot. “Have you prayed about jumping back into a relationship with Hunter?”
“Yes.” Sorta. Maybe. Pretty much no. “And for your information, Pastor Sullivan, I’m not jumping into anything.”
We walk into the gym and flash our press passes, which is pretty co
ol. I feel like a cop on TV when I do that.
I follow Luke to the concession area. “Are we going to interview some people? Take some pictures? Get some quotes?”
“We’re getting nachos.”
A few minutes later he turns around and hands me cheesy nachos with some canned chili on top. It looks disgusting. And I can’t wait to dig in.
“Your Sprite.” He extends a bottle, and I’m oddly touched that he remembers these little things, like my favorite drink.
“Luke, do you know what my favorite color is?”
He leads me up the bleachers to find a seat. “Pink. And black.” He smiles at my cotton candy–colored scarf.
I settle my food in my lap as we sit. “And on what side do I usually part my hair?”
He focuses straight ahead on the ball game already in progress. “The left. But tonight you’ve flipped it to the right.”
“You do have good reporter skills.”
His intense blue eyes leave the court and fix on my face. “What does noticing things about you have to do with me being a good reporter?”
I don’t know how long I stare at him, but a blast from the scoreboard snaps me back to the game.
After the junior high game ends, the Lady Tigers take the court, and the cheerleaders line up under the basket. Lindy spots me in the crowd and waves as she sinks a warm-up shot.
“Hey, guys.” Matt Sparks climbs the bleachers and sits down beside me in his team sweats. “Glad you could make it for the games. Bella, good article in the paper about the high cost of prom.”
“Thanks.” I beam. “Who knew it could be so expensive, right?” But come Monday, I’ll be working toward a paycheck. One pad at a time. “Are you taking a date?”
“Nah.” Matt looks to the court as the two teams take their places for the tip-off. “I’m sure I’ll just hang out with Lindy like usual.”
I nearly choke on a chip. “Didn’t she tell you? Lindy’s going to the prom with Newton Phillips.”
Matt blanches. “Who?”
“Newt. He’s a friend of—”
“I know who he is.” Matt’s fingers tap the seat. “When did this happen? Is it like a date?”
“Um . . .” What do I say here? “You’ll have to talk to Lindy. I didn’t mean to spill the beans. I just thought you’d know.” Hope you weren’t planning on coordinating your tie with her dress.
I'm So Sure (2009) Page 13