“Not yellow,” I say. “Aqua or something else in the green family?” Madison looks good in greens.
“Yeah,” Jessica says. “Yellow is a little too yellow for me.” Maura tries to take a chip from the bag but Jessica holds it out of her reach, teasing.
“Should we vote?” Scott asks. “All in favor of green shirts with purple lions throw your hands up.”
Nine hands go into the air. One of those hands, belonging to Darren, starts doing the “Single Ladies” dance.
“Okay,” Scott says. “I’ll work on the design and send you guys mockups with a price from Cafe Press.” He glances at the meeting agenda. “Let’s talk about Prom.”
Madison’s head perks up at the mention of Prom. “What about it?”
“I know Prom is like a million months away and I’m sure you’ve already planned everything.”
“Yes,” she says. “We’ve been planning since August. We have a band.”
“Detonate the Gazelle, in the house,” Scott says raising the roof. Then he gets serious again. “So Avery and I were brainstorming things we could do to make the school more accepting of the lifestyle choices of its students and we thought that since Prom is being held in early June, which is Gay Pride month, you could also tie in a Purple Prom theme.”
“What do you mean?” Madison asks.
“Like it sounds,” I say. “Some purple decorations and balloons and shit. Maybe the photo backdrop can be of a rainbow or something.” Jessica snorts and I continue. “Okay, maybe not a rainbow but something less predictable than the fake moonlight backdrop? I don’t really care, but I want to make the connection between Gay Pride month and Prom. You could donate extra funds to The Trevor Project or It Gets Better. Prom is always so hetero.”
“I never thought of Prom as being for straight people. I thought it was for all people,” Madison says, the surprise heavy in her voice.
The room is quiet and Scott says, “Have you ever seen any gay couples at our Prom?”
“No. I guess not. And I’ve gone the last three years.” Madison says shaking her head. The fluorescent lights overhead make her even blonder than normal.
“We want to change that this year,” Scott says. “If I’m buying a ticket for me and a hottie, I don’t want someone giving me the stink eye. This is my first chance at going to Prom and it should be everything the movies make it out to be.”
“We don’t discriminate with ticket sales,” Madison defends.
The room is silent again. Maura is the first one to speak. “I think it is a great idea,” she says.
“But we already have a theme planned,” Madison says. She looks panicked, like we’re about to steal Prom out from under her. “I’m not at liberty to announce it yet. We can’t until tickets go on sale in May, but I guess I could run it by student council and see what they think. Maybe we can tack it onto the theme?” She pauses and I can see the wheels turning in her head. “It might work.”
“Also,” Scott says, “I should be able to run for Prom queen.”
Madison looks skeptical.
“I’m dead serious,” he says. “I want to push the envelope. For reals.”
“I’ll be honest,” Madison says. “Even if student council tacked on a Purple Prom theme, there is no way they will go for a guy being crowned Prom queen.”
The bag of Doritos has circled the table again and is back in Jessica’s clutches. “I’d vote for you, Scott,” Jessica says before popping another Dorito into her mouth.
“Ditto,” Maura says.
“So we’re all in agreement?” Scott addresses the eight of us around the table. “We should have student council pursue the Purple Prom theme? But not my running for Prom Queen.”
There are eight “Ayes.” Madison is thoughtful for a moment before she says, “Aye.”
“Now that’s what I’m talking about. We’re getting shit done and taking names,” Scott says. “Do we have any other business?”
No one has anything. Scott claps his hands. “Meeting adjourned.”
Everyone is busy gathering their stuff and talking about Prom and the T-shirts. I move around to Madison’s side of the table so that I can catch her before she leaves.
“Thanks for checking into the Purple Prom idea,” I say.
“No problem,” she says, not looking at me.
“Listen,” I say my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry about last week in the library.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies as she traces the pencil graffiti some asshole drew on the table with her index finger. The Bobby sucks dick scrawl smudges under her skin. She rubs it until it is no longer legible.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” I bite my lip and try to read her unreadable expression before I continue. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out. It won’t happen again.”
“Okay.” She stands up from her seat. “It was really nice hanging out with you,” she says glancing around the room. No one is paying attention to us. Ms. Hawkins is playing Candy Crush and Scott and Darren are back at the whiteboard sketching out lions and arguing about how much mane they should have.
“I really liked hanging out with you,” I say. “I still want to hang out with you if that’s cool?” What starts out as a statement turns into a question.
“Yeah,” she says. “Okay.” Madison makes a move toward the door.
I don’t know what it is that has me chasing after this straight girl who is clearly not into me. But I want to know her, know everything about her. Not just her favorite color and how she likes her pizza but what she dreams about at night and what it feels like to kiss her. “Do you like movies?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says. The hesitation is heavy in her voice.
“Do you want to go see one sometime?” I press before she can run away. Her eyes widen and I amend my question. “Not like a date or anything. But as friends?”
“Okay,” she says a little hesitantly.
“We can invite Scott, too,” I add in case she fears I’m trying to trap her into a date. “He’s a big film buff.”
The addition of Scott to our equation visibly relaxes her. “When were you thinking?”
“Anytime you’re not out with Miles,” I say. “But I usually have shows Saturday nights.”
“Maybe a Friday?” she suggests. “Or a Sunday afternoon?” Sunday afternoon would make it the most unromantic thing ever.
“I’ll check with Scott, but let’s shoot for tomorrow night.” If we wait to see a movie together it will never happen. “I have band practice until seven so maybe an eight or nine o’clock show? I can text you.”
“Okay,” and before I can finalize anything else she is out the door.
“What were you two whispering about?” Scott asks as he links his arm through mine. We follow Darren down the hall and out to the parking lot.
It is incredibly hard to lie to him. “Nothing, really,” I say.
“I don’t believe you,” he says. “But I’ll let it slide this time. How about we go get some pho? I’m starving and Jessica ate all the chips.”
“Pho sure,” I answer and unlock my car. There is a fine layer of oak pollen coating the paint. I draw a heart with Madison’s initials in the pollen on the roof of my car before getting in.
“Pho real,” he replies and settles himself into the passenger seat. “It would be a total pho pas if we didn’t get some pho-nominal soup.”
I start the car and turn to him. “Keep this up and you can pho-get about it.”
A slow, wicked smile crosses his face. “I’d do anything pho you.”
“WHERE’S SCOTT?” MADISON asks the second I walk up to her outside of the theater the following night.
“Something came up,” I say. “He’s not coming.” I didn’t invite him. Even though this isn’t really a date, I wanted to pretend for a few minutes that this was the possibility of us on a date, that the hottest girl in school had chosen me. Madison looks crestfallen that it’s just t
he two of us. “Do you still want to see a movie?”
Her eyes dart around the parking lot. Oak Bluffs is devoid of culture and this is the only movie theater in town. The chance of us running into someone we know is high. She hesitates and my heart sinks all the way the sidewalk we’re standing on. An eternity passes before she says, “Okay.”
I was so prepared for her to bolt that her answer takes a full ten seconds to sink in. “What do you want to see?”
“This,” she says pointing at the poster for a supernatural disaster flick. “And it starts soon.”
“Oh. Okay,” I say trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. Had I known she would pick Alien Tsunami I would have put my foot down and insisted on the new Zac Efron rom-com that opened today. “I didn’t peg you as a sci-fi fan,” I say as we walk up to the counter to get our tickets.
Madison shrugs. “It’s a much better choice than that,” she says pointing to the poster of Zac holding a puppy and making eyes at a blonde starlet.
“Let me get this,” I say to her as I take out my worn duct tape wallet.
She waves me off. “Thanks, but I’ll pay for my own movie.”
“It’s no problem,” I argue. “I invited you.”
Madison glances around the front of theater before flashing me a quick smile. “It’s cool.” She pays for her ticket and tucks the change back into a pink leather wallet with a soccer ball on it.
I buy my ticket and we fall silent as we go into the theater. I’m hit with the heavenly scent of buttered popcorn. Next to Madison’s orange blossom shampoo, this might be my favorite smell in the world. “Popcorn? My treat.”
She shakes her head and her blonde ponytail flips back and forth. “I’m good. I ate with my parents before I came. I’m stuffed.”
I know we won’t be holding hands or anything but I was at least hoping for some light touching over a giant tub of popcorn. I hand the cashier a ten and get an extra-large tub, no butter in case Madison changes her mind.
The theater is packed and even though the lights are low I recognize a few people from school. Madison walks ahead of me with her head down. She counts seats and picks out two in the exact center of the theater. The same seats I would have chosen. There is awkward silence between us while we wait for the car and Army commercials to end and the previews to begin. If Scott was here we’d be egging each other on to “Be all that we can be.” A wave of guilt washes over me. I should have invited him. Then Madison shifts in her seat, her leg brushing against mine. The electricity that passes through our jeans makes this covert operation worth it.
The theater goes totally black and the previews start. Madison’s stick-straight in her chair, eyes on the screen. Her skin glows in the light of the movie screen and she looks so goddamn beautiful I want to throw all caution to the wind and lean over and kiss her. The next preview is for a romantic comedy about Arbor Day starring Jennifer Lawrence and Bradley Cooper. I will go see this on opening day.
There are seven previews, but only a few I’d be willing to pay for besides Arbor Day. Madison is once again laser-focused on the screen, immune to my longing looks.
Alien Tsunami is as bad as I anticipated. It only redeems itself twice. Once when the heroine loses her shirt and once when the hero falls face first into what can only be described as alien shit. It’s pretty unfunny, but Madison laughs so hard that tears stream down her cheeks.
After that, she relaxes a bit. During the final action scene, she shifts in her seat again and her leg presses against mine and she doesn’t move it away. I can’t help it. I have to touch her. I need to try. If she moves away from me, I will stop chasing her. But if I don’t try something now, I’ll regret it forever.
My tub of half-eaten popcorn provides visual cover as I slowly move my right hand to her left thigh near her knee while keeping my eyes on the screen ahead. She jumps but she doesn’t move away. I can feel the heat of her skin through her jeans. Her thigh tenses but she doesn’t push my hand away. I’m confident that this is my green light. I want her in a different way than I wanted Rory. Even if it means risking our new friendship, this one moment is enough to last me through a thousand cold nights.
There’s a loud explosion onscreen as the heroine, clad in a sexy white tank top, blows the head off an alien. As a giant tidal wave washes him away, I trace small circles with my index finger up her thigh. Despite the screaming heroine I can hear Madison sigh softly near my ear. Her eyes are closed and the slightest smile splays across her lips as my fingers continue their orbit. I don’t realize that the credits are rolling until the lights in the theater come on and the people around us begin standing up. I move my hand back at the same time Madison opens her eyes. Her pupils are dilated and her cheeks are flushed.
“Did you like it?” she asks, slightly breathless.
“I don’t know. I stopped paying attention at the end.”
The moment is shattered when someone from behind us says, “Hey, Madison. Hey, Avery.”
Madison goes still.
“Hey, Maura. How’s it going?”
“It’s good.” She winks at us. “I’m here on a date.”
Me, too, I think.
“Who?” Madison asks looking around.
“Steven,” she says pointing to a guy in glasses a few rows back. He’s reading his phone and doesn’t notice the three of us staring at him. He’s a senior at Oak Bluffs.
“Nice,” Madison says, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. She’s back to the ice queen I started the night with. “What about you guys?” Maura asks. “Is Scott here? Or is it just the two of you?”
Madison looks like a panicked rabbit. She wants to bolt but she’s trapped inside the row of seats. “Nope. Just us,” I say.
“That’s cool,” Maura says. “I didn’t know you guys hung out.”
“Sometimes,” I say.
Madison shrugs and it is everything but nonchalant. “I had to convince Avery to see this. She wanted to see Puppy Love.”
“Oh, that looks like a good one,” Maura says.
“I know, right?” I say. “Apparently Madison hates romantic comedies. She must have been dropped on her head as a baby.”
Madison’s mouth stretches into another tight smile. “The student body would be shocked to know that Avery Jennings is a die-hard romantic. Think the school paper could do an expose?”
I roll my eyes. “Please. It’s not like it’s a secret.”
“Well Scott did out your love of Taylor Swift. It’s not like those two things aren’t related.”
“Lower you voice,” I hiss, though I’m smiling. “No one is supposed to know about Tay-Tay.”
Maura coughs. “I guess I should get back to my date,” she says. “I wanted to come and say hi.” Maura waves goodbye and skips back to Steven. He’s still texting and it takes a minute for him to acknowledge her. Her face falls and my heart crumbles for her.
“You ready to go?” Madison asks. Now that Maura has left she has begun to thaw. “Or do you need to watch all of the credits? I’m sure you’re dying to find out who the Best Boy Grip was.”
“You’re wrong,” I say as we walk up the aisle. “I want to find out who was the Assistant to the Best Boy Grip. I’m sure that’s a thankless job.”
“It sounds vaguely dirty,” she says. “What do you think it means?”
“It only sounds dirty because you have a dirty mind.” I think about her face during those last few minutes of the movie. I want to watch her unravel like that again.
“Shut up,” she says pushing me. We’re the last two out of the theater. “You’re the dirty one.” I start to push her back and let my hand linger on her shoulder.
Madison stops and looks at me, her ocean eyes blazing. For a long moment we stand and stare at each other. I want to tug her down to the sticky floor and start a marathon make-out session. The guy cleaning the theater clears his throat, reminding us that we are in a public place. Madison gives him a mortified look and mumbles, “Sorry,�
�� but he is unfazed. I’m sure he sees a lot of weird shit in this theater.
We take the exit closest to our theater and it leads us to the side of the building. “Maybe we shouldn’t have taken that door,” I say. There is a dumpster at the far end of the alley. The shadows from the street lights up ahead make it not as sketchy as it could be, but it still feels a little dangerous for Oak Bluffs.
“What was that back there?” she asks. She’s stopped dead in her tracks, her arms folded in front of her.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” She’s flustered. A strand of her hair has come loose from the ponytail.
“No, tell me.”
“That thing with your hand and my leg,” she says. She pulls the rubber band from her ponytail and sweeps her hair back into it.
“It was me touching you,” I say.
“Why were you touching me?”
She shifts and the shadows cover her face, making it unreadable. “Because it’s killing me not touching you,” I say taking a step toward her. “Because I want you.” The last part comes out in a hoarse whisper. I take another step forward and Madison backs into the side of the building. The music playing inside of the theater is still audible out here. It sounds like Lady Gaga.
She makes a small noise in the back of her throat. “But you said that the thing at the library didn’t mean anything.”
“Fuck the library,” I say and pull Madison into me, cupping her face in my hands. Her eyes are open as my mouth brushes against hers. I press harder against her lips and they open wide enough that our tongues can touch and I forget about kissing her gently. She tastes faintly like peanut sauce and something spicy and like mint and it collides with the scent of the oranges in her shampoo.
Madison’s hands are trapped between our bodies. I wait for her to push me away but instead she uses the belt loops on my jeans to pull me closer to her. She matches me in intensity, kiss for kiss. My fingers leave her face and trail down her neck so that I can grasp her shoulders through her white cardigan and remind myself that this is not a dream.
Secret Heart Page 5