Absolutely Positively Not

by David LaRochelle

  “Unless you want me to order the corsage, Steven. What color will Kelly be wearing?”

  “Yellow,” I said. “You might even call it golden. And no, I’ll take care of ordering the flowers.”

  I was having a hard time finding a graceful way to get out of this dance. Contracting a lethal disease was too much to hope for, and I’ve never been very good at staging fake illnesses, as proven by my date with Solveig. If I claimed Kelly was sick, I was afraid Mavis would rush over and fill the vacancy with her granddaughter.

  With only a few days remaining, I confided in Rachel. Ever since our disagreement on the gay/straight alliance, our conversations had been limited to neutral topics on which we both held similar views, such as nuclear disarmament and global warming. But now I needed to talk to her about something more complex: how to escape from a dance that I didn’t want to attend.

  We were in Rachel’s basement giving her family’s assortment of dogs their monthly toenail clipping. I was holding a trembling Pomeranian while Rachel wielded the clippers.

  “Rachel, I’m in serious trouble. My mother thinks I’m going to the dance.”

  “Really? With who?”

  “With Kelly.”

  Rachel’s eyes widened to the size of small planets.

  “Kelly Markovitch? All-state quarterback? Way to go, Steven! When you come out, you really come out!”

  She tapped a finger lightly on my chest. “You know, I’ve always suspected that half the football team was gay.”

  “Not Kelly the football player. Kelly your dog.”

  Kelly, who was on the floor waiting her turn, looked up at me and thumped her tail.

  For the second time that month, Rachel was speechless.

  I explained to her how I had been pressured into inventing a date for this dance, then waited for her to tell me I was a spineless chicken for not telling my mother the truth.

  “Steven, you’re brilliant!”

  Since when was it brilliant being a coward?

  “Taking a dog to the dance is even better than taking a guy! It’s your chance to show the world that you refuse to conform to its narrow boundaries about what it means to be a couple!”

  This was way too bizarre, even for Rachel.

  “I can’t take a dog to the dance,” I told her.

  “Of course you can,” said Rachel. “This is America. You can take whoever you want!”

  The Pomeranian we were trimming jumped off the table and began running around my feet, yapping in agreement.

  “Do you know what they call people like you, Steven?”

  Mentally unstable lunatics.

  “Visionaries. And it’s the visionaries who make this world a better place to live.”

  Was it typical for a visionary to feel as if he were drowning in quicksand?

  “Susan B. Anthony, Martin Luther King Jr., and Steven DeNarski.”

  Her eyes were actually teary with admiration. “I’ve never met a visionary before,” she said, shaking my hand.

  Kelly nuzzled my leg with her nose.

  “Neither have I,” I replied.

  I still had one avenue of escape, but I had to wait until just the right moment. It appeared after dinner, when I was helping my mother mail autographed copies of The Clean Teen to major newspapers across the country. I knew I’d never catch her in a better mood than this.

  “Mom, I need my license.”

  She finished signing her name to the title page of the book that lay open, then carefully considered my request. “No, I don’t think so.”

  She handed me the book and reached for a new one.

  After I had failed my first test, my mom had insisted on another hundred hours of practice driving before I tried again. I was still over sixty hours short, but I couldn’t let that stop me.

  “But I need my license for the dance.”

  Specifically, I needed my license so I could pick up Kelly at Rachel’s house, drive her around the block for a few hours, then drop her home again without ever showing up at school.

  My mother finished the inscription and blew on the page so it would dry. “Your father and I are only too happy to drive you.”

  That’s exactly what I was worried about.

  I opened another book and slid it in front of her.

  “If not for my sake, Mom, then at least let me get my license for Kelly.”

  She didn’t even look up from her writing.

  “Think about it. Out of all of those wonderful high school dances, how many times did your date arrive at your door accompanied by his parents?”

  Her pen slowed just a little.

  “Doesn’t Kelly deserve to have those same happy memories as you? How can you rob her of one of life’s richest moments?”

  I looked over her shoulder. Instead of “Barbara DeNarski,” she had written “Baby-pie,” her nickname from before she was married. I knew I almost had her.

  “Shame on you for denying Kelly so much happiness, Mom. What would your friend from college say?”

  It was a low blow, but I was that desperate.

  “Oh all right, Steven. You win. You can take your test again.”

  She finished writing her last name, then added a heart beneath her signature. “I’m not so old that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be young and in love.”

  My test was scheduled for the Friday before the dance. My mother picked me up after school, having just run the car through the car wash. A cardboard lemon swung from the rearview mirror, making the interior smell like a can of furniture polish.

  “You don’t want to show up at Kelly’s in a filthy car. No girl wants car lint on her brand-new dress.”

  While I waited for the examiner, my mother reviewed her endless list of driving precautions.

  “And above all, don’t get too cocky. Driving examiners hate young people who are overly confident. It’s the worst mistake you can make.”

  As my mother continued with her warnings, I watched other kids my age returning from their tests. Smiling triumphantly, they proudly showed their parents their passing scores. Was this a positive omen, or was the driving examiner’s charitable streak about to run dry?

  “Steven DeNarski,” called the clerk. “You’re next.”

  I looked toward the door expecting to see Santa Claus.

  I saw Miss Abbergast, retired first-grade teacher and connoisseur of trashy gas station magazines.

  “Hello, Steven! We meet again! That’s what I love about this job; every day I get to reconnect with my former pupils.”

  We walked outside to our car and she settled herself on the passenger seat, clipboard balanced on top of her pink leather purse. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  Remembering my mother’s safety precautions, I checked the rear- and sideview mirrors six or seven times before starting the engine.

  “My, what a thorough young man,” said Miss A. She made a cheerful-sounding check mark on her board.

  I began to relax, sensing her charitable streak was still intact.

  It was a sunny afternoon with no distracting snowflakes, hailstones, or raindrops in sight. Still, a chilly shiver of panic rippled down my back as I neared the first stop sign. I made my approach slowly and stopped a good twenty-five feet before reaching the sign. Miss Abbergast made several more happy marks on my score sheet.

  The entire test continued to go well, including the dreaded parallel parking. My mother had run me through the drill so many times, I could have parked a semi between the legs of a folding chair. But I wasn’t about to take any chances. As soon as the car was vaguely between the orange pylons, I stopped. Why risk knocking down one of the cones? I didn’t need a perfect score; I only needed to pass.

  “All right, Steven. You can drive us back.”

  I had completed the entire test without committing a single major driving violation. All that was left was for me to pick up my license.

  I pulled into the parking space where we had begun.

  “You are
such a careful, cautious driver. We don’t see many young men as safety-conscious as you.”

  “So I passed?”

  “Not by a long shot.”

  She ripped off my test sheet from her clipboard and handed me my score: 52 percent.

  “A timid driver like you isn’t ready to be on the road.”

  From inside her purse she produced a sheet of smiley-face stickers and stuck one to the outside of my coat. “But don’t be discouraged,” she told me. “I’m sure you just need a little more practice.”

  “Things always work out for the best,” said my mother. “How about if I get your father to dress up in his Sunday suit and he can pretend that he’s your personal chauffeur? Maybe we can even find him a cute little driving cap to wear. I bet Kelly would love that.”

  I doubted whether Kelly would notice anything my father was wearing unless it smelled like hamburger or one of our neighbor’s cocker spaniels.

  The phone was ringing as we stepped into the house. It was Rachel wanting to know the results of my test.

  “Disastrous,” I said. “I’m doomed to a life of parental transportation.” I then explained my mother’s plan to have my dad play chauffeur.

  “Parents,” said Rachel. “They can be so dense. Tell your folks you’re double-dating with me. Come over to my house, and we’ll go to the dance together.”

  I could only imagine Rachel’s choice for a date. Downy? Bounce? Samson the Iguana? Still, if I had to go through with this, I’d rather not do it alone. “I’ll be at your house by seven,” I told her.

  I’m not sure who was more nervous the next night: me or my mother.

  “Your first school dance is such an important milestone,” she told me, tugging on my coat sleeves and flattening the lapels of my jacket.

  And so is your first interspecies date.

  “Edward, are you ready? It’s time we drive Steven over to Rachel’s.”

  My mother had been fine with the double-dating aspect of the night, but she was still under the impression that she was going to meet Kelly. It was time to deliver the bad news.

  “Mom, I’m walking over to Rachel’s. A little fresh air will help me relax.”

  “Good idea,” she said. “I’ll get my coat.”

  When I told her I’d rather walk by myself, she looked horrified. “But when do I get to meet Kelly?”

  Not within my lifetime, if I could help it.

  “I forgot to tell you something important about her,” I said. “She’s shy. Extremely shy.”

  “Too shy to meet your mother? I don’t bite, you know.”

  Neither did Kelly, unless you took away her dog food while she was eating, but I still didn’t want them to meet.

  “Kelly is homeschooled, and going to this dance is a big step for her. Meeting my parents on the same night might be too much for her to handle.”

  “But I want to snap a few pictures to send to my college friend.”

  “Let the boy go,” said my dad. “We’ll get to meet his date when she’s ready.”

  My mother looked so crushed that I almost changed my mind. Almost, but not quite.

  “Then you’ll have to tell me all about the dance the minute you get home. I won’t be able to sleep until I hear every last detail.”

  I edged toward the door and told my parents good night.

  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” said my dad.

  I promised him that I wouldn’t.

  My mother straightened my tie one last time.

  “Make sure you tell Kelly hello.” She stood in the doorway and hugged herself tight. “Oh, Steven, I am so envious. You’re going to have the time of your life.”

  Rachel was waiting in her living room when I arrived. She was wearing a slinky, strapless beige dress with a thin gold chain around her neck.

  She wore just the slightest hint of lipstick, and the lock of hair on her forehead sparkled with glitter. She looked great, and I told her so.

  Then Kelly made her entrance. She was freshly shampooed and her fur glowed like moonlight on a lake. Around her neck she sported a bright red collar that complemented her butterscotch-colored coat. Her tail splint was gone, and if I wasn’t mistaken, someone had painted her toenails. She looked great too, and I told her so.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to ask one of our other dogs?” said Rachel’s dad. “Like Maxwell or Butch?”

  “No jokes, Dad,” said Rachel. “This is a big night for Steven, and we need to be supportive.”

  “Sorry, Steven,” he told me. “I didn’t mean any offense.”

  Rachel’s mother patted me on the back. “You’re a brave man, Steven. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  I didn’t have a clue.

  I was about to ask Rachel which pet she was taking when the doorbell rang. It was Victor Sanchez, my choice for sexiest guy in our grade.

  “Rachel, your date’s here.”

  While Victor greeted her parents, I grabbed Rachel’s arm and pulled her into the kitchen. “What are you doing?” I demanded. “How come I’m the only one taking a date with a tail?”

  “This evening was your idea, Steven,” said Rachel. “Don’t worry. I’m not about to steal your thunder.”

  My thunder? I didn’t want any thunder! I didn’t even want to go to this dance!

  “I only asked Victor because I wanted to be there to support you.”

  “Rachel, your date is waiting!”

  We returned to the living room where Victor was standing between Rachel’s parents. I caught myself admiring his thick black hair and tailored suit, then quickly looked away. He was the sharpest-looking one there, but I had enough sense to keep my mouth shut.

  He walked up to Rachel and handed her a single, long-stemmed rose. I looked down at the corsage box in my hands. I opened the lid and took out one of the doggie treats I had filled it with, then handed it to Kelly. She gobbled it down, and I emptied the rest in my pocket for later.

  “Hey, Steven,” said Victor. “How’s it going?”

  I caught a whiff of aftershave, the same exact scent that Mr. Bowman used. I’d have to find a bottle of that somewhere soon.

  “Is your date meeting us here, or do we need to pick her up?”

  “You mean you didn’t tell him?” I asked Rachel.

  “I wanted it to be a surprise,” she said. She ceremoniously cleared her throat and announced, “Victor, Steven’s date is already here. He’s taking Kelly.”

  Victor looked around the room, his gaze finally stopping on Rachel’s mom.

  “The dog,” I said.

  His eyes traveled from the golden retriever, to me, and back to the golden retriever again. Then he let out a low whistle. “Whatever turns your crank, man.”

  I was about to explain that Kelly did not turn my crank, but Rachel began hustling us out the door. “The dance has already started,” she said. “We want to make an entrance while there’s still a good crowd.”

  We squeezed into Victor’s Volkswagen with Kelly and me filling the tiny backseat. No sooner were the doors closed when Rachel launched into another speech about how I was making an important political statement with my choice of date.

  “This is history in the making,” she said. “A night that will long be remembered by everyone involved.”

  I watched Victor’s reaction in the rearview mirror. I waited for him to make a wisecrack, or at least smirk. He didn’t. He nodded thoughtfully, and his only comment was, “I didn’t realize I was going to be a part of history.”

  When we arrived at school, Rachel couldn’t wait to get inside. I hung back.

  “Go on ahead,” I told them. “I’m going to take Kelly to the … ladies’ room.” I motioned to a clump of trees alongside the parking lot. “I’ll meet you in the building.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Rachel. “We can wait.”

  Kelly had spotted the trees and was tugging on her leash.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “Kelly and I will make a stronger
impact if we enter by ourselves.”

  “Good thinking,” said Rachel. She slipped her arm through Victor’s. “We’ll be in the gym, waiting your arrival.”

  While Kelly took care of her doggy duty, I thought about what lay ahead. Once I set foot inside that school, I’d be labeled a freak for the rest of my life.

  The wind picked up and the tree branches overhead sighed mournfully. I tightened my suit coat against the frigid evening air.

  It wasn’t too late. I could still avoid public humiliation. I could claim that Kelly had run away and that I had spent the night tracking her down. All I’d have to do was hide out in the cold for a few hours. All I’d have to do was invent a few more lies.

  Another vehicle pulled into the parking lot. From the shadows of the trees I watched as a mountain emerged from the car. It was Dwayne Becker, dressed in a three-piece suit made from enough material to cover an ice rink. It was the first time I had seen him in anything other than his signature sweats. He walked to the passenger side and opened the door. A girl half his size climbed out. It was Solveig Amundson, dressed in a gown that shone like a disco ball.

  Before shutting Solveig’s door, Dwayne took off his Marlboro cap and tossed it into the car. Then the two walked toward the school, hand in hand.

  I pulled Kelly farther into the shadows.

  As the couple passed, Dwayne leaned down and whispered something in Solveig’s ear. They laughed. I could almost feel the aura of happiness surrounding them. They were already having the time of their lives, and they weren’t even inside yet.

  So Solveig had found a new date. Good. She was a nice girl. She deserved to be happy.

  And then, unexpectedly, I was angry.

  Make that furious.

  What about me? I was a nice guy. I deserved to be happy too.

  I stepped out of the shadows. “To hell with what everyone thinks!”

  Kelly’s ears perked up.

  “I’ve got the suit. I’ve got the tickets. I’ve even got the date. C’mon, girl. I’m going to this dance!”

  Together we stormed the school and marched to the gymnasium, ignoring the few couples lingering in the hall.