I pull the blanket from the back of the couch and wrap it around myself. Mom sits down across from me in the recliner. She’s changed out of her suit and into a ratty flannel shirt and sweatpants. Amazingly, she still looks incredible. There’s no doubt about it, I’ve got good genes.
“What?” She sticks her tongue out at me.
“I was just thinking that it’s good to know I’ll still be hot when I get all old.” I laugh.
“Watch it.” She wags her finger at me. “I may be old but I could still kick your butt.” She thinks she’s a badass just because she took some self-defense class. “Seriously, Aspen, what’s wrong? Are you still bummed because you didn’t get queen?”
“No. I mean, I am. But it’s just lots of stuff,” I answer back vaguely.
“Do I have to beat it out of you?” She jumps off the recliner, coming toward me. Before I can move she’s got one of my arms twisted behind my back and is pointing two fingers in my face to gouge my eyes out.
“You’re a total psycho.” I wriggle out of her loosened grip. “But I guess you’re a little tougher than I thought.” Satisfied at my compliment she plops back down in the recliner.
“Now spill before I really do some damage.”
“Lucas cheated on me with Angel the night I had my asthma attack.”
“That little douchebag. Wait. Do you think he had something to do with her disappearance?”
“I’m telling you, Angel isn’t missing. She’s just doing this for the drama. Even if she was missing, Lucas isn’t smart enough to pull something like that off.”
“Amen. I never knew what you saw in him in the first place.”
“Thanks for clueing me in. So now I don’t have a date for the dance. It’s my senior year and I’d rather skip the dance than go stag.”
“Isn’t there anyone else you like?”
“Well, there is someone. But he isn’t the type of guy I usually go for. He’s … kinda of … well … he’s a nerd,” I say, cringing. My mom has never had an uncool moment her entire life so I know she has to be screaming inside right now. She’s been behind me all my life helping me achieve the status I have and now I thank her by trashing it all to fall for a geek.
“What do you mean? He’s a geek?” She looks confused. I didn’t think she would take it this hard.
“You know, he kind of falls at the lower end of the high school social food chain.”
“So why do you like him?” She sounds angry. I knew I shouldn’t have told her this. It was probably hard enough on her that I didn’t get homecoming queen, now I go and dump this on her, too.
“I didn’t really know I did until just now. We’ve kissed and it was just different from any of the other times I’ve kissed guys before. Rand is just really funny and sweet … ”
“Wait a minute. Isn’t Rand the boy who saved you?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I forgot all about him. He was so sweet. We talked for hours while you slept.”
“You did? About what?” I hope the answer isn’t going to completely humiliate me.
“Everything really. He’s a very well-read young man. And he’s crazy about you.”
“Yeah, well, not anymore. I was really mean to him today.”
“So just call him and apologize.”
“There’s more to it then that, Mom. We’re from totally different classes. People would freak out if they saw us together.”
“You know, I’ve gone along with the homecoming queen stuff because I knew how bad you wanted it. But, Aspen, I didn’t raise a snob. You may be better-looking than a lot of people. But that doesn’t make you better than them. I need to show you something.” She quickly runs up the stairs and a few seconds later I hear her rummaging around in her closet.
A few minutes later, she comes back down the stairs with an armful of books. She deposits them onto the island in the kitchen. I get up to join her.
“What is all this stuff?” I ask, sitting cross-legged on a padded barstool.
“This is something I’ve hid from you for far too long.” She leafs through what appears to be her high school yearbook.
“I thought you said you lost these.” I try to look over her shoulder.
She looks up and has big tears forming in her eyes. She looks terrified. I’m scared to know what she’s going to tell me. Is she really a man? No, it can’t be that, I’ve seen her naked. Maybe Dad is a chick. No, he grows facial hair by the minute. Before I can imagine anything else she spins the book around to face me and gestures to a photo.
In the grainy black-and-white photo a young girl stares back at me. The girl has a serious unibrow, her makeup looks to have been applied by a blind person, and she has enough hairspray in her five-inch-high bangs to be held personally responsible for the hole in the ozone layer. I don’t get it. Why would my mom be showing me some picture of the next contestant of Extreme Makeover?
“That’s me,” she whispers, then buries her face in her hands. I hear myself scream for the second time that day.
I’ve studied the picture for a full five minutes. I still can’t believe this person is my mother. My “makeup always applied lightly to look natural, eyebrows waxed every other week, hair kept in place perfectly with barely any product” mother was originally a total geek! I feel like she’s just told me I was adopted or something. It’s all so scandalous.
“Does Dad know about this?” I ask, suddenly worried that she may have tricked my dad somehow.
“That’s my whole point.” She grabs the book back, flipping frantically through the pages. I can’t say I’m disappointed to see her turn the page. Looking at that picture was very unsettling. She finally finds what she was looking for and spins the book around again to face me. She points to a candid photo of my dad with his arm draped around a good-looking blonde. My dad looks almost exactly the same. He was adorable even way back in the eighties. I guess I know where I get my looks from now.
“Wow! Dad looks exactly the same. He’s always been a hottie, huh?”
“Your dad was very popular in school, and obviously, you can tell the same wasn’t true for me. But he didn’t care what people thought. He knew he was in love with me, and that was all that mattered to him. I just want you to realize that in a couple of months you aren’t even going to see half of those people again until your twentieth-class reunion. Do you really want to miss out on the love of your life because you were afraid of what those people thought?”
She’s absolutely right. To hell with my status, I’m going to start dating a geek. But first I have to get that geek to forgive me.
“Mom, I’ve got a phone call to make.” I bolt up the stairs to my bedroom.
I rummage through my junk drawer for the mini-directory the school hands out at the beginning of every school year. It conveniently lists everyone’s cell phone number. I page through the B section until I finally spot Rand’s number. I frantically dial not even sure what exactly I’ll say. After four rings it rolls to his voice mail. This is not something I want to leave on his voice mail, so I hang up. I try the number listed for his home phone and a polite older gentleman tells me, “Mr. Bachrach is out for the evening,” in a very stiff voice. Crap. I bet he’s at the vigil for Angel. I’m not going anywhere near Pippi, Tobi, and fire (they’re probably planning to singe my eyebrows off or something) so I’ll just have to tell Rand tomorrow.
Exhausted from a long day, I climb into bed, but after a few minutes my mind is still racing. I switch on my bedside lamp and grab a notebook and pen. I quickly jot down a little note to Rand. I’m afraid if I wait until tomorrow to tell him how I feel, I might chicken out. But if I wake up in the morning and see this note, I’ll remember the same feelings I have tonight. The note isn’t some mushy piece of garbage proclaiming him the new owner of my heart. It’s just me telling him that I think he is really cool and I’d like to hang out more. Nerd or not, I don’t want to give him the upper hand. After reading the note over, I’m satisfied, I shut off the
light, and fall asleep imagining Rand and I slow dancing at the homecoming dance. I look so good in my dress …
* * * *
I had a nightmare that I woke up and had my mom’s unibrow. I nearly screamed until I looked into the mirror and my own perfectly sculpted brows stared back at me. I woke up early so I took extra care getting ready. I laid out a black cashmere V-neck sweater, a pleated red plaid skirt, black tights, and black Mary Janes with a kitten heel to make my legs look longer. Rand won’t be able to resist me.
The stars are aligned and my hair turns out perfect. The weather is even cooperating with little wind and no rain. I jump into Cookie and head toward school. This afternoon was supposed to be the homecoming carnival, but Miss Hott felt that we should cancel it in light of Angel’s disappearance. So instead of having a half day of classes and a half-day of fun now we have a full freaking day of classes. Thanks for ruining something else, Angel.
The local television station has been running constant coverage of Angel’s disappearance and they have camped out across the street from school. As I drive by I see the familiar face of the news anchor. It’s almost like seeing a celebrity. She’s holding a microphone and I realize she’s live as I drive by. I get excited thinking that Cookie and I may be on the evening news. This day just couldn’t get any better.
As I glide to my locker I notice that everybody is buzzing around whispering about something. A couple of people point at me, and I figure it’s just because I look so good and they’re jealous. As I pull my twenty-pound accounting book out to get ready for first period I try to be subtle about looking around for Rand. I want to get him alone once everybody else goes to class. Maybe we can even sneak in another one of those delicious kisses. Just the thought of it gets my body tingling.
“You’re all dolled up today,” Tobi says, sneaking up on me.
I shrug my shoulders, like my appearance didn’t take me an extra hour and mutter, “Whatever.”
“Somebody said there was a new kid. I’ve overheard the adjectives- gorgeous, beautiful, totally hot, and loaded. I’m thinking he’s a keeper.”
The entire student body goes into heat whenever we get a new student. We rarely get fresh meat so everybody goes on the prowl, especially if the person is at all attractive. Angel will be so disappointed that she isn’t getting first dibs. For the first time ever I don’t care about turning the new guy’s head. I just want to talk to Rand.
“Whatever.” I’m hoping she’ll get bored and leave. I so don’t trust her anymore.
“You need a new line, Aspen. By the way, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this.” She throws a school newspaper at me before storming off.
I look down at the front page of the paper. It’s a picture of Rand and me kissing yesterday at my locker with the caption, “While the queen is away, the king will play.”
Holy shit!
CHAPTER SEVEN
If this had happened a few days ago, I would have completely lost it. Tangible evidence, in the form of our cheesy school newspaper, that I’ve swapped spit with Rand is in the hands of every student right this very moment. But after Mom’s revelation and some soul-searching, I realized that sometimes you just can’t help who you fall for. I’m not saying that I love Rand, but I know I’m in serious like. Even if he doesn’t fit the Blaine prototype I usually go for. He’s adorable. I want to be with him, and I don’t care if everybody knows about it. Actually, I want everybody to know about it. Now I just have to convince Rand that I’m for real.
I’m a little disappointed that Rand isn’t waiting at my locker for me. But I don’t blame him for being mad. I was a total beyotch yesterday. I’ve got some serious groveling to do. First, I want to put our first official picture on display in my locker. I wonder what Rand thought when he saw it? I carefully rip the newspaper along the outlines of our intertwined bodies. I stick the picture into a pink heart frame and prop it up on my locker shelf. The black and white photo of our passionate kiss is so romantic. It reminds me of the poster in Miss Hott’s office. I trace the outline of Rand’s body with my fingertip. He looks so sexy with his arms around me. Tobi is right about one thing. For somebody so brilliant, I can be extremely dense sometimes. How was I so oblivious to Rand for so long? I’m not wasting another second. Screw accounting class, I don’t want to look at gross Mr. Lowe anyway. I’m going to hunt Rand down and tell him how much I want him.
As I slam my locker shut, Amy, one of the zombie Seagals, comes rushing toward me. At the last moment she makes a beeline around me. I turn to see where she’s going. She drapes her arms around an absolutely beautiful male specimen who is headed straight for me.
This must be the new student that everyone was in such a twitter about. Except the “new” student is Rand. Either that or Rand has a totally freaking hot twin. When Amy finally moves to the side I can finally take in his miraculous transformation. His glasses are gone, but I recognize those dazzling evergreen eyes. Eyes that seem to display disgust. Yep, this is definitely Rand.
He’s still really pissed at me, but I’m too amazed at the moment to care about the dirty look he’s giving me. Short, spiky, chestnut locks replace his previously unruly curls. The form-fitting navy blue sweater and tight khakis cling to a body that I just can’t wait to get my hands on. He is gorgeous. I am speechless.
“This is what you wanted, right, Aspen? Someone who would look good on your arm? Someone you wouldn’t be embarrassed to have your picture taken with? Someone who treats you like you’re garbage?” He’s right in my face now. Amy is pawing all over him. Seeing her touch him is making me crazy. Could this possibly be what jealousy feels like?
Hot Rand obviously still has serious ‘tude about me dissing our exchange of spit. Normally I wouldn’t have any problem coming up with something witty to say to win him over. But the alluring musky scent radiating from Rand is slowly working its way to my nostrils, overpowering my olfactory sense. I just want him to grab me and kiss me like he did yesterday. Leaning against my locker I try to form cohesive sentences. I can’t let Rand see how his new look has affected me or he will never believe I already liked him.
His head is tilted to the side and he is waiting for me to respond. I look from him to Amy then back again.
“Hey, Amy, make like a tree and leave,” I say, glaring at her. She looks to Rand who nods his head. She sticks her tongue out at me and spins on her heels. She takes off down the hallway muttering under her breath. The first-period bell rings and the final stragglers rush to class. It’s just me and Hot Rand alone in the hallway.
“Listen, Rand, I know I’ve been a jerk. I don’t blame you for being mad, but I really like you. You’re funny, smart, and I just really feel good when we’re together. So I was thinking maybe we could start seeing a little bit more of each other.” I manage to spit out my confession without hyperventilating, so far, so good. But … man smells so good … trying to control impulses to … cover his neck with kisses.
“I figured this is what would happen. This is so typical, Aspen. You wouldn’t give me the time of day until I looked like a Ken doll. Now you want to “hang out?” he says, angrily making air quotes. Ouch, I’m pulled harshly out of my fantasy.
“Blaine,” I answer, still in a bit of a hottie stupor.
“What?” he asks, looking confused.
“You look more like Barbie’s new boyfriend Blaine then Ken. It’s a joke.” I smile, trying to lighten him up. Surely he can’t really believe that I’m so shallow that I’d like him now just because he looks good. I mean, I am shallow, but I’m not that shallow.
“Go ahead and make your jokes. Everything is a joke, isn’t it, Aspen? I suppose Angel missing, that’s a big joke, too, huh? I can’t believe how wrong I was about you.” He laughs, sounding deranged.
“So why did you do it?” I ask, gesturing toward him.
“I wanted you to prove me wrong. I wanted to see for myself how shallow you really are. I wanted so badly to believe that you would treat me
the same way. But you didn’t. Now you want me. Now I’m good enough. I just wish you would have wanted me yesterday.”
“But I did. I do. I tried calling you last night, but some old guy said you were gone.”
“It’s not going to work, Aspen.”
Great. For once in my life I was ready to base a relationship on something besides looks. Now the guy doesn’t believe me. How am I ever going to convince him he already had me? The thought of losing him to someone else now, especially Amy, is inconceivable. As I run my finger over the cool spiral binding of my notebook while trying to figure out what to say next, I have a total epiphany. The note. Yes! Rand is so mine. I am so going to have the upper hand once he reads my note.
“This is how much your new look means to me.” I thrust the note at him.
His eyes soften as he unfolds the note. Just as quickly they turn hard again. “This will come in really handy when I don’t buy any of it for you for Christmas.” He throws my current designer label wish list back at me. Crap. I gave him the wrong paper.
“Shit. Hold on.” I rummage through my notebook.
Rand starts drumming his finger against my locker door and tapping his foot impatiently while I search desperately for my note. I just had it. Now I can’t find it anywhere. I’m starting to freak out. I don’t want to lose him. And it’s not just because he’s a total hottie now, even though he is. It’s because I know I’m supposed to be with him. I can feel that now. I hate that he’s mad at me. I’ve got to make him understand I really like him.
“Why are you doing this? Just admit it, there is no note.”
“There is a note!” I scream. I’m starting to get really pissed. Why won’t he just believe me? He thinks I’m nothing but a shallow label whore. I wonder why he even liked me in the first place? Wait a minute! He’s no better than what he’s accusing me of.
“Rand, I’m curious. You’ve supposedly been carrying this torch around for me for years. But until a few days ago we had never even talked. So you were basing your feelings on my looks. How does that make you any better than what you’re accusing me of?” Ha, gotcha, buddy boy. Now Rand will admit that I’m right and that we are made for each other. He will dazzle me with those delicious kisses any second now. I wet my lips and rub them together in anticipation.
Revenge of the Homecoming Queen Page 8