by Amy Sparling
Either way, April seems impressed with him. I wish I had her carefree, lack of fear approach to dating. The girl knows exactly what she wants—a date to prom, and she’s going to find a way to get it.
I’m sitting next to Ethan on one of the picnic tables lining the quad just outside of the cafeteria. Though I told him not to worry about it, he bought my lunch for me so I don’t swat his hand away when he grabs one of my fries.
April nibbles on her slice of cheese pizza and turns her attention to Toby. “It was nice of you to join us for lunch,” she says.
“It’s no problem. I love sitting outside.” Toby uncaps his Dr. Pepper and takes a long drink. “Plus, Ethan said you were cool so I had to come see for myself.”
He grins and April pretends to look offended. “You mean you didn’t trust him instantly? Surely my reputation lets you know that I’m a nice girl.”
Toby shakes his head. “You don’t have a reputation.”
She points at him, a coy look in her eyes. “Exactly.”
I turn to Ethan. “Looks like they’re getting along well.”
“I knew they would,” he says, looking at his friend. “Toby is a cool guy and he’s desperately single.”
I take Ethan’s hand and turn it over to check the time on his watch. He uses the opportunity of having his hand to close to me and squeezes my thigh. I shove him away. “Not here, you horn dog.”
He grins and leans in, slipping his arm around my waist. “I’m really glad we’re eating lunch together.”
I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling more comfortable with all of this PDA each time I do it. “We have five minutes of lunch left. Kennedy hasn’t tried sabotaging us yet, so that’s a good thing.”
Ethan’s chest rises and falls under my head. “That’s because she’s done enough damage for today.”
“Man, screw that bitch,” Toby says, joining our conversation. He slams his drink bottle down on the table and points to Ethan, his eyes serious. “I’ve been telling everyone you’ve got the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.”
Ethan’s arm tenses around my back. He laughs but I can tell it’s not genuine. “Dude, you’ve never seen it.”
Toby shrugs. “I don’t care. I’m gonna stick up for my boy no matter what.”
April’s eyes are lost in this dreamy, swoony way and although she’s only known Toby for twenty-five minutes, I can already imagine the ten million phone calls and texts she’s going to shoot my way, all swoony and going gaga over him.
“So, Toby,” I say, turning my face up to the warm sun for a second. “Do you have a date for prom?”
“I’m flattered Ella, but I think your boyfriend wants to take you.”
I throw a fry at him. “I’m talking about this beautiful girl sitting next to you. She needs a date.”
“I know who you’re talking about,” Toby says, throwing a coy smile toward my best friend. “But she doesn’t need a date anymore.”
“Huh?” Ethan and I say at the same time.
April and Toby exchange a glance and suddenly it’s like they’re the ones dating and not us. “We talked about prom a few minutes ago and Toby asked me to be his date.”
“Where was I when this happened?” I ask.
“You were right here but I guess you and Ethan were too busy making puppy eyes at each other to realize it.”
“Damn,” Ethan says, chewing a fry.
April stacks our food trash into one pile and stands, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “What did I tell you in economics? You guys are totally in love with each other. Right, Toby?”
He nods. “I think this one is a keeper, Ethan. I’ve never seen you like this with another girl.”
The bell rings and it’s a good thing because all of this Ethan and Me talk is making me blush something fierce. April and Toby exchange phone numbers. As we’re walking back to the school, Toby throws an arm around Ethan and me, slipping himself into our personal bubble. “We should all go on a double date sometime. You in?”
Ethan looks at me and I shrug. “Sounds good.”
“I’m free any day but Saturday,” April says. She seems to have grown ten feet taller now that she has a date to prom. “Ella and I have some prom shopping to do.”
I must visibly flinch because April pouts. “Come on, El. It’ll be funnnn,” she says, dragging out the last word.
“We should do something after you’re done shopping,” Toby says, releasing his chokehold on us. “Ethan and I have some T-shirt designs to work on.”
“So it’s settled,” April says. We get to the cafeteria doors and Toby holds it open as we walk back into the throng of jerks who like to stare and laugh at us. “The boys will do whatever they’re doing tomorrow and we’ll go prom dress shopping.”
She makes a little jiggle of her hips and falls into step with Toby who genuinely seems interested in walking her to class.
I link my hand into Ethan’s, an act that now feels as natural as brushing my bangs behind my ear. “I’m not ever sure I want to do prom,” I say, adamantly ignoring all the stares as we make our way to fifth period.
“So about this starting a war thing,” Ethan says like he hadn’t even heard what I said about prom. “What exactly are you planning?””
I give him an evil eye wiggle and squeeze his hand. “I’m still scheming. But trust me, it’ll be good.”
*
Since Dad’s off work on Saturday, I actually get the rare usage of what used to be my car. It takes a few minutes to get the seat and mirrors adjusted to fit me, but once I’m behind the wheel again, I feel the sweet rush of being in control of my own life. Sure, bumming rides from Ethan is fun because I get to hold his hand, but nothing is as satisfying as hitting the open road on your own, going anywhere you want to go.
I go to April’s house. We hit up the mall and April has a prom dress plan all worked out in her head. We hit the specialty shops firsts—the ones with high end designers and dresses we’d never be able to afford, not even for our wedding day. According to April, this is how we find out what’s in style this season.
Then, we take the styles, colors, and fabrics from the expensive stores and look for similar dresses in the cheaper stores.
April’s long auburn hair looks amazing with navy blue and she quickly finds a sleeveless gown with shimmery glitter lace patterns on the skirt. Though she’s pretty sure she wants to get that dress—it’s a steal at only three hundred and sixty dollars, she says—we still have to hit every dress store in the Galleria Mall before we can consider buying anything.
I’m starting to question if having a best friend is actually worth all the things you do to make them happy, when a dress catches my eye. It’s a pale pink chiffon gown. The bodice is covered in silver rhinestones and above a sweetheart neckline, the fabric goes sheer with only rows of rhinestones up to the shoulders.
I feel the soft fabric and turn the dress around on the hanger. The back is dropped low, nothing but sheer nude fabric covered in beautiful rows of rhinestones. It is so beautiful, the urge to try it on goes deeper than my strong feelings against attending prom.
April walks out of the dressing room wearing a short black dress with a massive satin bow on the butt. “Try it on,” she says, sashaying over to me and grabbing the dress in my size. “What do you think of this one?” she says, spinning around.
I crinkle my nose. “I think you should put that thing back before I throw up.”
She laughs. “Yeah, I think the blue dress from two stores ago is the magic dress. I’m just doing due diligence before I commit to anything.” She points a finger at me. “So you trying that thing on, or what?”
I bite my lip. The gown is gorgeous but there’s no way my parents can afford it. With trembling fingers, I reach for the price tag. It’s on sale for a hundred and fifty-five dollars.
April looks over my shoulder. “Not bad, El. Try it on!”
It is a beautiful dress and the price isn’t as bad as most of the dresses t
hat will walk through the doors on prom night, but still. I can’t ask my parents for that kind of money. Plus, there’s shoes, and hair and makeup and ugh. I go to put the dress back on the hanger and April stops me with a fierce swipe of her hand. “Try it on, Ella. You have to.”
I roll my eyes and stomp to the dressing room. The moment the dress falls over my body, I know it’s the one. I mean, if there was one if I was actually certain about going to prom. It hugs my body perfectly and no matter which way I twist in the three sided mirror, it looks like I’m a Disney princess come to life. And that’s saying something because I’m not wearing any makeup and my hair is in a messy bun.
I open the fitting room door and step out. April’s jaw falls to the floor. “Oh. My. God.”
I hold back a squeal. “I know, right?”
She rushes forward and touches the rhinestones on the shoulders. She’s still wearing that god-awful black dress. “This is the one. And it’s hella cheap. Oh my god, you have to get it now.”
I bite my lip so hard it draws blood. “I can’t. I don’t have any money.”
“Just bake more cupcakes,” April says. “The twins have a birthday next month. We’ll get my mom to order and pay in advance.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to be a hundred and fifty-five dollars plus tax worth of cupcakes. Plus, I give her a discount because she’s family.”
She looks at me in the mirror. “So you’ll bake more cupcakes! Let’s get your website up and running so you can take orders.”
I hold up a finger. “First of all, any money I earn I should be going toward more supplies. Secondly, I can’t just use the Poe’s kitchen any time I want. I’m a guest in their home, not a paying tenant or anything.”
April groans. “Fine, let me take a picture.” She takes my phone from my purse and steps back, angling the camera to get a full body shot of me in this beautiful dress.
On the drive back home, April scrolls through her own phone, examining all the selfies she took of each dress she tried on. “I think the blue one is definitely the winner,” she says, glancing into the backseat where it hangs in a garment bag. She presses the phone to her chest. “Toby is going to drop dead when he sees me in it.”
I reach over and turn down the radio, desperate to change the subject. This day started out as a boring trip to look at dresses I didn’t care about, but it ended with me longing like crazy for a stunning pink gown that I’ll never be able to afford.
“New subject,” I say, ready to put the longing behind me and focus on more important things. “I’m going to take Kennedy Price down for what she did to Ethan. You want to help me?”
Chapter 23
With Toby’s help, I design a shirt for his mom’s daycare kids. She wants something cute and kid-like for their summer field trips so every kid can wear a matching shirt. Drawing cartoon kids holding hands on a merry-go-round isn’t my typical style of artwork, but in the end, it looks pretty good. Definitely like something you’d see on daycare kids.
I set the price as low as the vender allows that way she can order a lot of them for cheap.
After, Toby watches on while I sketch up a few more ideas I’ve had brewing in my head for a while. I try to stick to pop culture and things that are popular around the school, although weirdly, one of my most popular designs is what I call the Street Signs collection. I’d sketched this green and white street sign on a pole, giving it a retro vibe and then I made one for each street in the town. People buy them to represent their neighborhood and a few Homeowner Associations have commissioned me to make custom shirts for them.
Boring shirts like that aren’t exactly my favorite thing to do, but it brings in money and as a future business owner, I’m learning that a steady income isn’t dependent on what makes you happy.
Now if only I can convince my dad that I know what I’m doing and don’t need to focus on freaking football forever.
When Toby finally leaves, I’m dying to hang out with Ella. She’s been back from dress shopping for a few hours now, but she’s been cooped up in the rec room working on her political shark president project.
I head down to the kitchen and make two root beer floats in Mom’s fancy glasses, using the real ice cream Mrs. Lockhart keeps in the freezer. When I tap on the door with my knuckles, Ella calls out, “Come in.”
I find her sitting on the window sill that overlooks her old house. The black solar-blocking curtains that keep the room dark enough for good movie watching have been pulled back, letting in all of the evening sunshine.
“It’s all gone now,” she says, gazing out at the empty slab that used to have a house on top of it. The cleanup crews have done an excellent job of removing all traces of the old house.
I rub my hand over her back, resting my chin on her shoulder. “Wait, is that a real estate sign?”
She nods.
“Your parents are really selling the land, then?”
Another nod. “As soon as they find a house, we won’t be neighbors anymore.”
I kiss the back of her neck and hand her a root beer float. “That doesn’t mean we won’t get to spend all our time together.”
She peers down at the glass. “Is this real sugar or some kind of tofu dessert?”
“It’s real.”
“You’re the best.” She sets her phone down on the window sill and I notice the screen is still on.
“Is that you?” I ask, grabbing the phone. She’s in a fitting room wearing a beautiful dress. She’s smiling but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Damn, you look hot.”
She shrugs. “It’s the dress, not me. It’d make anyone look hot.”
“I disagree.” I hold the phone closer, zooming in on her face. “Did you get this dress?”
She takes a sip of her float and shakes her head. “Nah. Can’t afford it.”
“What does it cost?”
“Too much.”
I follow her to the couch. “I’ll buy it for you.”
She chokes on her ice cream. “Nope. No way.”
“Why not? I don’t mind. In fact, I want to.”
“No. I’m not some charity case, Ethan.”
“Do I look like the Red Cross?”
She peers at me over the rim of her glass, then licks off the ice cream mustache on her upper lip. “No.”
I bump my knee into hers. “If you’re my girl then you’ll need to accept that I’m going to do nice things for you. It doesn’t make you a charity case, it makes you my girl. Besides, you used to make me buy you ice cream every time the truck came to our neighborhood, remember?”
She grins. “SpongeBob sherbet.”
“It didn’t bother you back then so it shouldn’t bother you now.”
“Ethan, a prom dress is a lot more than a SpongeBob ice cream.”
I stab a chunk of ice cream with my spoon and bring it to my lips. “And we’re a lot older now. It’s like inflation. It all evens out.”
She shakes her head. “I’d still rather buy it myself, but thanks for the offer. I’m not even sure I want to go to prom.”
“I don’t really want to go either but after seeing that photo, I think it’d be a crime to prevent the world from seeing you in that dress. Plus, it’s like a high school rite of passage.”
Her lips tremble as she holds back a smile. “Aren’t you worried about being prom king with your ex? How is that going to work?”
I shrug. “The guys on the team say Decker Graham has a better chance of winning than I do. So we’re good.”
She leans forward. “So dating me has dropped you from hero to zero, huh?”
“Dating you didn’t do anything to my popularity. Any popularity I had was beaten to death by Kennedy revealing that I’m not a horny man slut willing to hook up with anyone.”
She gives me this little puppy look. “Aww, but I love that about you.”
I laugh. “I’ve been called a pussy so many times that the word has lost all meaning.”
“You know, I’m not a fan
of using a woman’s vagina as an insult to a weak man.” Her nostrils flare. “I mean, babies come out of there. Vaginas are strong and resilient and they happen to be the one thing that men love more than anything else so why the hell is that an insult?” She puts a hand on my shoulder. “You should be honored to be called a—well, I don’t want to say it.”
“You make a good point,” I say, straightening my spine. “I’ll wear the nickname as a badge of honor from now on.”
She grins and takes another sip of her float. “Good.”
Chapter 24
As kids, Ethan had this chore list his mom created out of a magnetic dry erase board and stickers. Every day after school he had to check the list on the fridge for all the things to do before he was allowed to play or watch TV. One of the permanent chores was to put his dirty dishes in the dishwasher.
Mrs. Poe has this obsessive hatred toward dirty dishes being left on the counter and in the sink. I’d forgotten all about it until Ethan takes our empty root beer float glasses and runs them down to the kitchen. I guess some things never change. You can grow and age, and fill out with muscles and drive a tall truck, but underneath it all, you’re still the same kid who follows your mom’s rules. He’s still the Ethan I cared about all those years ago.
I take out my notebook and turn it around to face him. “So here’s my plan.”
He casts a confused look at the page. “You’re writing her a letter? Or . . . a recipe?”
“No, this is a prototype. I had the idea when April and I were making the poster in the hallway.” I give a sly nod across the room to where my blank poster board and markers wait. “I’m going to draw this as a big poster and sneak it into the school. It’ll be tricky, but I’m pretty sure with your help that we’ll be able to hang it right in front of the cafeteria by that huge wall clock.”