“You’ll be fine,” I assured him. “Everyone’s still eating. Once they’re done they’ll come up.”
The guys nodded.
Ten minutes later, everyone was done eating—even Hannah, who’s the slowest eater on the planet—and still no one had come up.
“They’re obviously a little intimidated,” I explained to the camera.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Lola said, without looking up from her magazine.
I turned to her. “What? They are. They’re just getting their nerve up.” I got up and walked close to the camera. “Sometimes it takes guys a while to talk to girls they like. RIGHT, JOSH?”
He backed up, knocking into Ari, who tripped on one of the cords and went down.
“Omigod, Ari, are you all right?” asked Hannah as she rushed over to him.
“I think so,” Ari replied.
Just then Drew Anderson got up from his seat. “Look, there’s Drew—he’s been crushing on me forever. Hey, Drew!” I called out, waving my hands.
He turned and looked at me. “Oh, hey, Dylan.”
“Come here for a second,” I ordered.
He walked over, looking at the camera warily like it was going to tackle him to the ground. Drew wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer—having been on the varsity football team since he was a freshman, he had been hit in the head a few times—but he was cute. In fact, in the right light (like not a lot of light) he was even cuter than Asher.
I twirled a lock of hair around my finger and smiled at him. “So Fall Fling is coming up,” I said.
He nodded. “Yeah, it’s in a few weeks.”
I gave the camera a smile before turning back to him. “So do you have a date?” I asked.
“Well, I was going with Jenny Frankel, but once she heard I had only asked her because Paula Lyons said no, she dumped me for Mark Roberts.”
“How interesting.” I moved a little closer to him. “So you may have heard—Asher and I broke up yesterday.”
He moved back a step. “You did?”
“Um, yeah,” I replied. “It’s only, like, the biggest thing everyone’s talking about today.”
“Oh. Not in remedial reading they weren’t. They were talking about that sophomore Jackson Posner who announced he wants to get a sex-change operation after college,” Drew said.
“Yeah, well, anyway, so because Asher and I broke up, he’s no longer my date,” I said.
“Oh. Sorry to hear that. You must be bummed. Asher’s a rad guy.”
I turned to Josh. “You can edit that line out later.” Turning back to Drew, I smiled. “Soooo . . . if you don’t have a date . . . and I don’t have a date—”
He looked very confused. “Wait, is this a word problem? Because I’m not very good at those ’cause of my dyslexia.”
“Never mind.” I sighed. “Well, it was nice talking to you,” I said, pushing him off to the side.
I looked around the cafeteria. “Okay, who else is there?”
It turned out there wasn’t anyone.
I could not believe that I, Dylan Schoenfield, the most popular girl at Castle Heights High School, could not find one guy in the senior class to go with to Fall Fling. I must have been even more intimidating than I thought. Not only that, but it used to be that when I walked down the hall from one class to another, people would clear a path. They still did that for Asher, but now I got jostled just like everyone else. Which is beyond rude because I bruise very easily.
But that wasn’t even the worst part.
The worst part was that all the girls in school were treating me different. Instead of kissing my butt, which is what they had been doing ever since Asher and I started dating, they started treating me like I was normal or something. Like one of the crowd. Instead of “Dylan! Hiiiii!” which is what most of them used to do, now I just got “Oh, hey.”
Maybe it was just because, now that I was single, they felt more threatened by me than usual, but for someone who’s as sensitive as I am, being treated like that was hard to take.
At least I could count on Lola and Hannah.
“So what are we doing after school?” I asked the next afternoon after lunch as we stood in front of the bathroom mirrors doing our daily postlunch makeup reapplications.
The two of them looked at each other. “Oh. I have plans,” said Lola guiltily.
“Me, too,” added Hannah, even more guiltily.
I stopped applying my eye shadow. “Plans doing what?” I asked. “We never make plans without running it by each other.”
“Dentist,” said Lola.
“Doctor,” said Hannah.
I put my eyelash curler down on the sink. “Okay, what’s going on here?”
Lola stopped applying her eyeliner and sighed. “Okay, we were planning on going over to Montana Avenue to go Fall Fling dress shopping.”
“Without me?” I cried.
Lola shrugged. “You already bought three dresses.”
“And you don’t even have a date,” Hannah added.
Talk about stabbing someone with a fork and twisting it.
“Yet,” I corrected, jabbing the curler at her reflection in the mirror. “I don’t have a date yet. But I will. Very soon. Anyway, it’s shopping—we never go shopping by ourselves! That’s, like, prime bonding time!”
“You can come if you want,” Hannah said, brushing her straight bob so it was even straighter. “We just thought you might feel left out, seeing that you don’t have a date and all.”
I dug into my bag for my brush and started brushing my hair with long, hard strokes. “Thanks for the news flash, Hannah, but I heard you the first time you mentioned it.”
“So do you want to come?’ asked Lola.
“I can’t,” I said, flipping my head upside down and brushing harder. “I have plans.”
“But you just asked what we were doing,” said Hannah.
I flipped my head up and shrugged. “I know. But I just remembered I have to be somewhere.”
“Where?” asked Lola.
I shoved everything in my bag. “Somewhere.” I shrugged. “See you around,” I said as I walked out.
I ended up going to The Dell for a little retail therapy, but frankly, I was so depressed that I couldn’t even find anything to buy. As I wandered around aimlessly, I thought about how, before I met Amy Loubalu, I used to spend lots of time by myself, mostly sitting too close to the television vegging out on telenovas, which are soap operas in Spanish. Not only was being by yourself boring, it was also very lonely.
As I was walking back to the parking lot, I ran into Ashley and Britney Turner.
“Hi, guys,” I said.
“Oh, hey, Dylan,” Ashley said, barely even looking up from her Sidekick.
“How are you?” I asked.
“Good,” they replied in unison.
“Hey, I’m super hungry. Any interest in going over to Du-par’s?”
They looked at me like I was crazy. “You mean that pancake place in the Farmers Market?” asked Britney.
I nodded. “Yeah. They have lots of other stuff, too. And amazing fries.”
Ashley patted her flat stomach. “Thanks, but I don’t want to risk not being able to fit into my Fall Fling dress.”
“Oh. Right. I totally get it,” I said, mustering a smile.
“We’re here to find shoes for Fall Fling,” said Britney. “See you at school.”
“Yeah. See you at school,” I said as they walked away.
I couldn’t believe it—these were the same girls that just a week ago would’ve died to watch me get a cavity filled. But now that I no longer had Asher, or a date to Fall Fling, I was a leopard or something!
Who knew that people could be so shallow?
At least I had three more weeks to work on getting a date—I only had three days to get a costume for the Halloween party, so on my way home I stopped at Costumes R Us. Sadly, I quickly discovered that the best ones were pairs, like Romeo and Juliet, Doctor and Nurse,
and Fork and Spoon. Not only were all the single ones beyond lame (who on earth wants to go to a party dressed like a cockroach?) but they were super itchy and smelled like mothballs. When I texted Josh to ask if he wanted to pair up costume-wise (unlike Fall Fling, this was just a Halloween party, so it would be okay due to the fact that there was no slow dancing involved), he wrote back that he and Steven and Ari had already gotten their Star Wars costumes. Although he did offer to let me join them as Princess Leia, there was no way I was going to wear my hair in two buns on the side of my head because that was just wrong. He was going to pick me up, though, so he could film me beforehand and give viewers some insight into what goes into getting ready for a party.
Even though blue is more my color because of my eyes, I finally settled on Little Red Riding Hood. Unfortunately, as I was getting dressed on Friday night, I realized that I had mistakenly grabbed the R-rated rather than PG version of the costume. Unless I wanted to wear leggings underneath my skirt so that my butt didn’t show (which would’ve been almost as much of a fashion faux pas as the Princess Leia hair), I was out of luck.
“Give me two minutes!” I screamed down to Josh, who was listening to a Neil Diamond bootleg with Daddy in the family room. The good news about being the most popular girl in school meant that even though I wouldn’t be winning Best Original Costume that night, I was able to whip up a princess costume in moments by pairing the big poufy pink prom dress I had worn when I was a sophomore and went to the senior prom with Jace Gardner (right before Asher and I started dating) with the silver strappy sandals I had worn to last year’s homecoming dance and my May Day queen tiara. Unfortunately it was so heavy that it wouldn’t stay on and kept falling off to the side.
“So? How do I look?” I asked, straightening my tiara as I click-clacked into the family room, where Josh was holding his Chewbacca head while he and Daddy ate Mallomar cookies.
“Look at you!” Daddy exclaimed. “You look gorgeous, sweetie! Doesn’t she look gorgeous, Josh?”
“Mmh-hmh.” He nodded with a mouth full of Mallomars.
“You don’t think the dress is too pink, do you?” I asked them.
“What do you mean ‘too pink’?” Daddy asked. “It’s pink. Pink is pink.”
“Pink is not just pink,” I explained. “There are many different shades of pink. There’s pale pink, and hot pink, and—”
“So you’re going as a May Day queen?” Josh asked.
“No. I’m just your run-of-the-mill princess.” I sighed, straightening the tiara again.
“But your crown says ‘May Day Queen,’” he said.
“It’s not a crown—it’s a tiara. And just ignore that part. Like I said, I’m a princess.”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
I looked at my reflection in the TV screen. “Wait—you think everyone is going to think I’m a May Day queen?” I asked.
“It does say that on the crown,” Daddy replied.
Guys took everything so literally. “It’s a tiara,” I corrected again as I straightened it.
“Believe me, they’ll know you’re a princess,” said Daddy. “And if they don’t, I have the credit-card bills to prove it. Honey, you look gorgeous. Just get your stuff so you can go. Poor Josh is schvitzing to death in that costume.”
Josh wiped the sweat off his forehead. “It is a little warm.” He started scratching at his neck. “Plus, I don’t do well with synthetic materials. I hope I don’t break into hives.”
“Fine.” I sighed. “Let’s go.”
Usually, from the moment I made my entrance at a party, I couldn’t catch my breath. Omigod—Dylan’s here! Omigod—Dylan, come sit next to me! Omigod—Dylan, I have to tell you what just happened! It was like everyone wanted a piece of me. But when we walked into Lisa’s, it was like no one even wanted a crumb of me, let alone an entire slice. As soon as everyone looked up to see who arrived and saw that it was me, they just went back to their conversations. As if I were just anyone rather than someone. They were probably just intimidated by what an awesome costume I had put together on such short notice, but still, I can’t deny that it really hurt.
Glancing around the living room for Lola and Hannah, I finally spotted them near the fireplace. I couldn’t see who they were talking to, but from the way they kept throwing their heads back and laughing and the way Lola kept trying to flip her hair (but couldn’t because she was dressed as a Chinese princess and her hair was pulled back in a bun with chopsticks holding it in place), I knew it had to be a guy. And imagine my surprise when I walked over there and discovered that it wasn’t just “a” guy but Asher, of all people.
“Excuse me, but can I talk to the two of you over in the corner, please?” I demanded as they threw back their heads and giggled some more as he told them the story about the time he was an extra in a skateboard movie. I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to come dressed as a surfer. I mean, talk about wanting to flaunt your hot body to get back at your ex.
They turned and looked at me. “Oh, hi, Dylan,” said Lola in the same bored tone she used with her mom.
“Oh, how cute,” Hannah said. “You decided to go as a May Day queen.” She was wearing one of the long black robes that the girl who played Hermione had worn in one of the Harry Potter movies because her uncle worked at the studio that produced it.
“No I’m not. I’m a princess,” I corrected.
“But your tiara says ‘May Day Queen,’” Asher said, confused.
“Not that I’m talking to you or anything, but I’m well aware of that fact, thankyouverymuch,” I snapped. “Girls? Over here, please,” I said, marching them over to the corner.
“What’s the problem?” Lola asked, not taking her eyes off Asher.
“Um, hi, Rule number 532? No talking to best friend’s ex-boyfriend ever?”
She continued staring at him. “How come you never told us he had such awesome pecs?”
“Hello?! Rule number 612: no bringing up his hotness. Plus, he’s so just doing that to make me jealous. Especially since he always wears a wet suit when he surfs.”
“Hey, Dylan? Can we get some tape?” said a muffled voice.
I turned around to see Josh, now wearing his Chewbacca head, aiming his video camera at me while Ari as C-3PO and Steven as R2-D2 stood nearby.
“Oh. Uh, sure,” I said. “Just give me a sec.” As I flipped my head over to give my hair some body, my tiara fell off and was promptly stepped on by Deb Eiseman as she walked by in her ski boots. “My tiara!” I cried.
As Josh leaned down to help me pick it up, the weight of his Chewbacca costume pushed him off balance, which made him pitch forward, which made him spill his Coke on my dress, which then made him step on the hem, which, when I stepped back as he moved forward to swipe at it with his Chewy paw, made it rip.
“Whoops,” he said. Because of the mask, it sounded more like “Moops.”
“My dress!” I cried, grabbing for some napkins and trying to blot out the stain.
He took off his mask. “Sorry about that,” he said, grabbing more napkins and blotting as well.
By the time we were done, it looked like I had peed in my pants. Or, rather, my dress.
“I can’t believe this!” I said, trying to fit the pieces of my tiara back together. Some girls walked by and snickered. “This is so embarrassing.”
“If you want, I think I have some fake blood in my trunk,” said Steven. “We could do a Prom Queen Massacre- type look.”
I gave him a look.
“Or not,” Josh said.
I grabbed Hannah and Lola’s arms. “Come sit on the couch with me,” I demanded.
Lola disengaged herself from my hand and started walking back to the fireplace. “We’ll be there in a few minutes. I want to hear the end of Asher’s story.”
I couldn’t believe it—my best friend was ditching me for my ex-boyfriend.
“Fine. Be that way. Come on, Hannah,” I said to my real best best friend.
She gave
me the same guilty look she gave her cat when she was about to push him off her lap and took my hand off her arm. “In a sec. I promise,” she said as she turned around and followed Lola.
I turned to Josh and the guys and adjusted my broken tiara. “Can you go film some other people? I’m not really in the mood.”
The three of them looked at me with something that looked like pity but I’m sure wasn’t because the idea of me being pitied by a group of geeks was as believable as the idea of snow in L.A. “Sure,” Josh said. He turned to Steven and Ari. “Why don’t you guys go get some footage while I hang out with Dylan on the couch for a while?”
It was nice to know I could still depend on some people.
As the two of us sat there watching the crowd, I got to experience what it felt like to be invisible. At first I tried to engage people in conversation, but after the fifth bored-sounding “Oh, hi, Dylan,” I stopped trying.
Talk about a fun way to spend a night.
“So is your crush here?” I asked Josh.
He nodded.
“Have you talked to her?”
He shook his head.
“Listen, if I’ve learned anything in this week of drama, it’s that life can change in an instant. I mean, look at me—I went from being the most popular, best-dressed girl at Castle Heights to”—I looked down at the ripped, Coke-stained, tiara-and-friend-less mess I had become—“this. So I really think that you need to go up to her and ask her to the dance.”
“You do?”
“Yeah.”
“But what about you?”
I stared at him.
Oh. My. God. How could I have been so dumb all this time?
How could I have not figured out that the girl that Josh was crushing on was . . . me?
Suddenly the movie of the last few weeks with Josh started running through my mind. The way he got all flustered whenever I questioned him about his crush. How, that night I went over to his house for dinner, he was so nervous when he made me roll down the window to tell me that he liked hanging out with me. The way he complimented my smile when I was teaching him to flirt at Du-par’s and then pretended that he was just saying it as part of the pretending. The way he shared his fries with me all the time.
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