I fasten the ten-pound necklace around my neck. It is already straining my neck muscles and it doesn’t feel good. I wonder if this is why rappers are so angry all the time? I struggle into black pantyhose then slip the pumps on. They are huge so I shove a few socks in the bottom to make them fit better. They are still a little wide, but I should be able to manage without killing myself.
I can’t avoid it any longer so I slip into the hot-pink nightmare of a dress. It is made of satin featuring a fitted bodice and tiers of satin that trail to my knees. Clusters of sequins are splattered all over it. The cap sleeves are huge poufy things that make me feel like I’m about to lift off. Worst of all is the gigantic bow plastered across my ass. There is no doubt that I’m committing fashion suicide tonight. If Rand doesn’t appreciate this, I might just have to kick him in the teeth with my hot-pink pumps.
I try calling Mom one more time, but there is still no answer. I laugh to myself as I picture Mom going on a shopping binge, then trying to pay with everything with a cancelled credit card. I know that’s mean, but I can’t believe she stood me up! I take a picture of myself with our digital camera and leave Dad a funny note telling him that I haven’t seen Mom since this morning and that I think my outfit scared her off. Hopefully he’ll get a chuckle after a long day of commuting home. I can barely fit my hair into Mom’s Acura. It’s actually a good thing that I have Mom’s car instead because now I’m incognito. I don’t want anyone to see me before I can make my grand entrance.
When I pull into the school parking lot there is only one other car. I don’t recognize it. When I get inside the hallway is deserted. I sneak over to peek inside the gymnasium. The freshman class spent the morning decorating for our Hawaiian-themed homecoming. Those little frogs did a pretty good job. The gym floor is covered in sand and huge fluffy makeshift clouds hang from the rafters. All the snack tables are edged with grass skirts and tiki torches line the dance floor. Fake palm trees are scattered throughout the gym and leis cover every free surface. Huge silver Mylar balloons shaped like sharks are tied to the sides of the DJ booth. Off to the side of the sand-covered dance floor are two iron lawn chairs that have been spray painted gold. Red velvet pillows sit in the seats of both the chairs. This is where the royal couple will hold court over the rest of us peons tonight. A microphone stands in front of the chairs so that Rand and Amy can thank their adoring fans. Barf!
I’m a little caught up in a daydream featuring me as the queen with Rand by my side when I hear someone clear their throat. I jump back and bump right into Miss Hott.
“Well, hello, Aspen. You look … ” She pauses searching for the proper adjective. “Interesting tonight.” She squints her eyes, taking in my entire ensemble. I think my dress is actually hurting her eyes. She gets closer and I can see that they are bloodshot and the skin around her eyes looks splotchy like she’s been crying. Her normally coiffed to perfection hair has a few wild stragglers tonight. She reeks of perfume. It wouldn’t be so bad if it were something good like Angel (which I love, but refuse to wear on principle), but it’s the same foul scent I’ve been trying to break Mom off for years. There must be some sort of gravitational pull on women in their thirties to wear White Diamonds.
“Thanks, Miss Hott. I’m trying out a new look,” I say, partially shielding my nostrils from her offensive odor.
“No offense, Aspen, but you’re a spring. Hot pink just isn’t ever going to work for you.”
“Yeah, I know,” I reply, trying hard to hide my admiration for her uncanny fashion sense.
“Since you’re here, I was wondering if you could help me place goodie bags on the tables?”
“Um, sure.” Crap, now what? It’s not like I could say no. She’s my principal, and I’ve already blown her off a few times this week, plus she’s let me skip school half the week and not been a hag about it.
“Just give me a few minutes and then meet me in the teachers’ conference room. Just be careful. The light is burned out in there, so don’t hurt yourself.
I nod and watch her waddle away. Crap. I can’t stand up Miss Hott, but if I don’t I’ll miss my opportunity to publicly humiliate myself. Okay, that sounds so wrong.
I hear the east and west doors swing open simultaneously and excited students rush in. I fling the gym doors open and head toward the giant ocean backdrop that is hanging behind the royal chairs. I grab the microphone off its stand and head to the stage behind the backdrop.
Students quickly fill the gym. My stomach is doing flip-flops thinking about all of these people seeing me dressed like a knockoff Cyndi Lauper. I peek out the side of the backdrop and see Rand enter the gym. The king looks hot! He is wearing a navy blue blazer layered over a white button-down shirt and khaki chinos. He looks like he just stepped off the pages of a Ralph Lauren ad. His crown fits perfectly now that he’s gotten those curls under control. He smiles, making his dimples cave in and causing my heart to start racing. He holds his hand up to wave at a few people, but never stops moving. I watch his eyes scan the crowd. He’s looking for someone. He’s looking for me! I get a sudden burst of courage. It’s going to be okay. I’m just going to go out there and profess my undying love. Rand will reciprocate and we will dance the night away as soon as I run home and change.
“What the hell are you doing back here?” a female voice asks from behind me.
I swing around and come face-to-face with the queen-by-twice-default Amy. She’s wearing my dress. Not the hot pink one I have on, but the black velvet tank with the pale pink ribbon running through the waist. She’s even got the shoes I wanted, but couldn’t get because they were sold out. Thank God I didn’t wear that dress. I would rather look like a human jellybean than be twinkies with Amy.
She takes one look at me and doubles over. It takes her a few minutes to regain her composure, but then she raises up and says, “Omigod, Aspen. Like the eighties called and they totally want their stuff back.”
“Very original, Amy. Listen, I am so over this feud. Can we please just stop all this because it’s really getting played out?”
She rolls her eyes, then sticks her finger down her throat. “Like gag me with a spoon.” She cracks herself up.
“Seriously, Amy. I’m glad you got queen. You deserve it way more than Angel or me. I really like your dress, too.” It really about killed me to say that about my dress, but desperate situations require desperate measures, or something like that.
She eyes me suspiciously.
“Amy, I’m serious. That’s why I’m back here. Miss Hott is looking for you. She’s got your homecoming queen sash and rose bouquet. I told her that I’d come find you.”
“Really?”
“You don’t want to go out there without being properly accessorized, now do you?”
At the mention of accessories, she instantly forgets her suspicion of me. “What does she have for me?” she asks, getting visibly excited.
“She’s got a beautiful white satin sash personalized with your name and two dozen red roses for you to hold. She wants you to meet her in the teachers’ conference room.” As she starts to bounce up and down with excitement I kind of feel like I just kicked a puppy, but I had to do it.
“I can’t believe I’m actually queen.” Her eyes glaze over as her fingertips gaze her tiara.
“You better hurry, Amy. You don’t want to miss the king and queen announcement.”
“You’re right.” She turns to go out a side door leading to the girl’s locker room. She turns back and says, “By the way, Rand is so in love with you it is pitiful. Aspen, Aspen, Aspen, that’s all I’ve been hearing all week.” She smiles, then disappears into the girl’s locker room.
Okay, so I feel a little guilty about lying to Amy but it won’t take her long to help Miss Hott. I just hope she’s right about Rand still being in love with me. I have to do this before I totally chicken out. I take a deep breath and turn on the microphone.
“Hey,” a voice says softly from behind me causing me to nearly
tumble out of my hot-pink pumps. I turn to find a somber-looking Lucas. I flip the switch back off on the microphone so the whole school doesn’t hear me ripping Lucas a new one. This is the first face-to-face we’ve had since the BJ incident.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, not bothering to hide the contempt in my voice.
“I thought you might need some closure,” he mumbles.
I start to laugh hysterically. “Wow, Lucas! That’s a really big word. Don’t hurt yourself.”
He raises his head up to look at me, causing his blond locks to fall perfectly across his forehead. Damn! As much as I hate to admit it, Lucas is still a hottie!
“Aspen, I’m really sorry about everything.” He walks closer to me.
“Um, which part? Hooking up with Angel, humiliating me, or making Rand the laughing stock of the entire school?” I shout. I can hardly wait to hear him try to talk his way out of this.
“I didn’t do shit to Rand,” he yells, looking angry.
“Oh, right. What about that little stunt you pulled to vote him king?”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet? I was trying to get you guys together. Rand’s been in love with you like forever, and I knew you wouldn’t give him the time of day unless you were forced to. How was I supposed to know Angel was going to cheat?” he defends himself, breathless.
“So I’m supposed to believe that you tried to hook your own girlfriend up with another guy out of the goodness of your heart?” I roll my eyes. I knew Lucas was dim, but this is a stretch even for him.
He wrings his hands nervously, and then says, “Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just for you. I had the hots for Angel and I didn’t want to break up with you. You can be really scary,” he finishes with wide eyes.
“What?” I shake my head in confusion.
“I never made you happy, but I knew Rand could.” He smiles.
I hear the words that are coming out of Lucas’s mouth but they don’t make any sense. Was I the only person at Comfort High who couldn’t look past Rand’s D-list status to see the real person? I guess there was one other person, Angel. I shiver as I realize that I’m not so different from my evil nemesis after all.
“You’re crazy about him, aren’t you?” Lucas grins.
I start to cry as I nod my head yes.
“But he deserves someone better. Someone who doesn’t base a person’s worth on their social standing.”
“You are that person now, Aspen,” he says, putting his hands on my shoulders.
Who knew that Lucas actually had depth?
“Now, go get ‘em tiger,” he says, raising the microphone to my mouth. I watch his still quarterback perfect butt walk down the steps and off the stage.
This is it. I peek around the giant backdrop. Rand is headed directly toward me. The gym is packed to capacity with students dressed in their homecoming best. The DJ flips on the sound system bringing the microphone alive and crackling in my hand. I have to do this Now!
I take a deep breath and then bring the microphone to my mouth. I’m still watching Rand out of the crack.
“Comfort High, can I please have your attention?” Rand jerks his head around searching for me. Most of the students stop their conversations and quiet down. I move to the center of the stage and push the button to retract the backdrop. Whispers turn to hooting and hollering as the backdrop rolls up exposing more and more of my hideous ensemble.
By the time I’m fully exposed everyone is practically screaming with laughter. For a moment I’m not quite sure I’m going to live through this. But Rand isn’t laughing. He is standing frozen directly in front of me with a blank expression on his face. I have no idea what he’s thinking. I swear, if I’m going through all of this for nothing, Mom is in big trouble.
I wait for the laughter to die down before speaking again. It doesn’t die down so after about a minute I tap the top of the microphone with my palm. The loud boom reverberating through the gym finally silences everyone.
“I’m sure that all of you know who I am, but for anyone who has been in a coma for the last four years, my name is Aspen Brooks. I’m an A-lister here, at least I was,” I say, glancing down at my dress, which gets some laughs.
“Does anyone want to know why I’m committing fashion suicide tonight?”
At least a hundred people scream “yes.”
“I’m doing all of this,” I gesture from my head to my feet, “for a guy.” More cheers erupt, but nothing from Rand.
“Not just any guy, but Comfort’s king, Rand Bachrach.” I get drowned out by the excited shouting. I bang on the microphone again to gain control of the crowd.
“Yes, ladies and gentleman, I’ve got it bad for Rand. The problem is he doesn’t believe me. He doesn’t believe that I just know in my heart we are supposed to be together. He’s known it since first grade, but I’m just now catching up. I deserve this doubt, because until a few days ago I was more concerned with the frosting than the cake.” I can tell by the confused faces that I need to elaborate.
“I was into how people looked on the outside. Clothes, shoes, purses, their frosting. I never really cared about the cake.”
I thought I saw the tiniest smile form at the corners of Rand’s mouth, but it disappeared so quick I’m not sure it was ever really there. I really thought the frosting/cake metaphor would get him. That’s okay; I have plenty more to say.
“I tried to do things this week to show him that I’m trying to change. I don’t want to lie. I’m never going to lose my love for frosting entirely. Even right now, as I try to convince Rand that we should be together, I’m screaming inside that it has been at least six weeks since Labor Day and Jill Johns is wearing a white skirt. Sorry, Jill. I just couldn’t help myself.”
Jill shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“I know a lot of you including Rand probably think I just like him now that he’s frosted. He is a total hottie now, but I guarantee you I’m all about his cake.”
I think I’ve abused my frosting/cake metaphor too much because my audience is looking a little lost.
“What I mean is there are a lot of things that I like about Rand besides his looks.”
Some guy way in the back yells, “Like what?”
I was hoping someone would ask because I finally have my list all ready. Rand is standing with his arms crossed in front of him waiting intently for my answer. I’m going to blow him away.
I look directly at him and say, “I like that you are the only male alive that looks sexy in a wife-beater.” Cheers go up from the females. Rand doesn’t look impressed. I guess that comment was a little “frosting”-oriented.
“I like that when you kissed me in the hospital I had never felt so safe in my whole life.” He likes this one and gives me a tiny smirk. The crowd oohs and aahs.
“I love that your second toes are so long they curl over your third toes,” I continue. He gives me a huge grin. The crowd is torn over this comment. I hear a few “aw, that’s sweets” mixed in with some “freaking grosses” as well.
Mr. Lowe slips in the gym door with a confused look on his face. I wonder if he is confused because of that dorky outfit he’s wearing. It’s a blue-and-white seersucker suit complete with white pleather shoes. He’s got a white rose boutonniere pinned to his lapel. Until his arrival there were no authority figures present. I have a feeling he is going to put a halt to my public display of humiliation. I need to seal this deal quick.
I move my eyes back to Rand. “I may not have pined over you for years, but I don’t have to. Because after just a few days I already know that I just can’t get enough of you. I don’t know how this happened or why it happened. I just know that I’m in love with you.” Wild cheers go up from the crowd.
I haven’t even lowered the microphone when I see Rand leap onto the stage. He runs to me and lays one of those delicious kisses right on my tacky hot-pink lips. I lose myself in his arms. I’m not sure how long we make out in front of the whole school, but when we finally co
me up for air, everyone is dancing and socializing, and they’ve forgotten all about us.
“You really do love me, don’t you?” Rand asks.
“Duh. Do you see what I’m wearing?”
“I kind of like it. Although … it would look better balled up on my bedroom floor.” He winks at me.
“Rand Bachrach, do you really think I’m that easy? You’ve never even taken me on a real date.”
“Would it change your mind if I said I had a present for you?”
“The old Aspen may have fallen for that, but not the new and improved Aspen.”
He pulls a robin’s egg blue box with a white bow from his pocket.
“Holy crap, Tiffanys?” I can’t stop myself from swiping the box out of his hand. In my defense, I don’t know a woman alive who is immune to those signature boxes. I loosen the ribbon and pop the lid. Lying on a cushion of white cotton batting is a sterling silver heart tag toggle bracelet. The heart is engraved with the initial A. I rub my finger over it, trying to catch my breath. I’ve wanted one of these forever.
“Hey, wait a minute. This wasn’t for Amy, was it?” I tease.
“Very funny,” Rand replies, securing the bracelet around my wrist.
“It’s beautiful, Rand. But I don’t understand why you got this for me. I thought you didn’t want to be with me.”
“Aspen, I’ve always wanted to be with you. I was just afraid that you would get tired of me. I wasn’t sure I could handle losing you. Then I realized that I would rather spend five minutes with you then a lifetime without you.”
I am so in love with this guy! I want to get away from all of these people and be as close to him as humanly possible.
“Aspen, I’m so sorry I tried to push … ”
I hold my hand to his mouth to shush him. “Do you wanna chitchat or hit that?”
His dazzling green eyes get huge and he starts to drag me off the stage and through the crowd. We are just pushing through the gym doors when we come face-to-face with Detective Malone.
Revenge of the Homecoming Queen Page 13