“What the hell?” I ask as I spin around.
Madison is standing in front of me in a pink tank top and white skirt. Her legs are even tanner than they were 204 hours ago. She smiles sheepishly at me. “Hi.”
“Where the flying fuck have you been?” I drop my messenger bag to the floor next to hers.
“The dentist.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Miami,” she says. “You knew that. I got back late last night.”
“Did you drop your phone into the ocean? Did you feed it to a gator? Or are you avoiding me?”
Madison gestures to the white tile walls of the bathroom. “Does it look like I’m avoiding you?”
“This bathroom is in the bowels of hell.” My boots stick to the floor. “And I’m standing on what I hope is not used toilet paper.” I grimace. “You didn’t return my texts.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Brad was hovering over me the whole trip, coughing “lesbian,” into his fist. I didn’t want to give him any more ammunition after Saturday night.”
“What did you tell him?” I look everywhere but at her. The brown paper towels spilling out of the trash can. The red lipstick kiss someone left on the mirror. The white polish on Madison’s toes.
She bites her lip. “That it was a mistake. That I was drunk. I reminded him I have a boyfriend.”
“And he believed you?”
She hesitates a second too long. “Yes.”
I lean against the wall. “That doesn’t explain why we’re here.”
Madison locks the bolt on the bathroom door. “Because I wanted to see you and set the record straight.”
A laugh escapes me. “Interesting choice of words. I get it. Saturday was a mistake. It won’t happen again.” I push back from the wall and start toward the door. I point to the sink. “Now is your chance to wash your hands of me.”
“Shut up, Avery. That’s not what I want.”
I spin around on the heels of my boots. “What do you want, Madison?”
“You.” Her voice is so soft I strain to hear it over the drip of a faucet. “I want you. I want Saturday night.” She takes a step toward me. “I want this.”
Madison’s mouth crushes against my lips before I have time to respond. Her tongue touches mine and I taste the mint paste her dentist used to clean her teeth. She pushes me back against the bathroom wall. My face burns where she cups my cheeks. The tile is cool against the back of my Tacocat concert T-shirt.
My fingers find the belt loops in her skirt and I tug her closer. Madison moans against my mouth as I run my hand up the inside of her thigh and under her skirt. My fingers brush against the fabric of her underwear. “Do you want this?” I ask.
“Yes,” she whispers as her hands slide under the front of my shirt. “Please.”
“Please what?” My mouth is on her neck. She smells like an orange grove in full bloom.
Madison closes her eyes and tilts her head back. “Please. Don’t. Stop.” She rocks back and forth against my palm and I keep my eyes on her face to I can watch the bomb detonate inside of her. Her eyelids flutter, her mouth a perfect oval. When the smoke clears she opens her eyes. “Holy Hell,” she says struggling to catch her breath.
“Are you okay?” My hand is back on her waist.
“Better than okay.” Her face nuzzles against my neck and she presses her lips against my collarbone. “I think I might be in love with you, Avery.” Her voice catches on my name and I kiss the side of her head.
I wasn’t expecting this, not now, maybe not ever. Once again Madison has found a way to surprise me. Happy tears prick the back of my eyes and I squeeze them shut long enough to sear this into my memory bank. When I open them Madison’s face is full of tenderness. I cup her cheeks in my hands and press my lips against hers. “I might be in love with you, too,” I whisper against her mouth.
We cling to each other for what feels like an eternity until the lunch bell rings and the spell is broken. “Do you want a ride home?” I ask when she steps away. She readjusts her skirt and pulls her hair back into a new ponytail.
“Only if you mean to your house.” Madison picks up my bag and hands it to me before picking up hers. She pauses to fold the tag of my shirt back under the fabric. Her hand lingers on my neck. “I want to do that to you.”
The door rattles again and panic flashes across her face. We instinctively step away from each other. “You go first,” I say and open the door to a bathroom stall. “I’ll hang out here for a minute.”
I lock the stall and climb onto the seat the moment she turns the lock.
“Madison?” a voice asks. Madison murmurs something and I strain to hear the lie she is telling and nearly lose my balance. There’s an empty pack of cigarettes and an unused tampon floating in the toilet bowl. I gag and step down. Madison’s voice fades down the hall.
I unlock the stall. Two surprised smokers stare back at me in the mirror. “Later,” I cough before making my escape.
On my way to English I swing by my locker to grab a copy of The Odyssey. Madison is leaning against the locker next to mine, scrolling through photos on her phone with Maura. “Hey,” she says, giving me a Mona Lisa smile.
“Hey,” I say opening the lock. “Good vacation?”
“It was alright. Yours?”
I shrug. “I’ve had better.”
“OMG, your brother is so cute,” Maura gushes. “Is he single?”
“Now he is,” Madison says. “But he’s off limits.” Madison meets my eyes and holds my gaze. All the blood rushes from my head to below my belt. The bomb inside of me is already ticking.
I close my locker and give them both a bright smile. “Later guys.”
It’s not until I’m midway through English that I discover that the messenger bag I have is not mine. It’s Madison’s.
I have to take everything out of it to find a pen: her phone charger, her planner, and her prom committee notebook just to find her pencil case. I drop everything except the prom committee notebook back into her bag.
The notebook glares at me from my desk. I should put it back and work on the assignment Ms. Anderson has given us, but fuck Homer. I open the notebook. The first part is all to-do lists that have been scratched out.
Hire band—Detonate the Gazelle?
Budget?
Waivers?
Hire florist- sell flowers at door?
Hire photographer- no cheesy backgrounds!
I flip through the pages for something more exciting. It’s all budget spreadsheets and meeting minutes.
Meeting minutes. I flip past the early ones until I find the last meeting.
Monday, March 31st
Prom Committee has vetoed Lion Pride’s Purple Prom. We will move forward with our “Time of Your Life” Theme and revisit the possibility of Purple Prom next year.
My eyes sting as I slam the notebook shut. She just told me she loved me but it’s clearly a scam. I swallow back the bile that creeps up the back of my throat. I pull my phone out of my pocket and send a group text.
Emergency LP meeting @Bean Tree 3:30. Shit just got real.
I LEAN AGAINST Madison’s locker as the final bell rings, her messenger bag at my feet. The hall fills with the white noise of end of the day exuberance. Dylan shoves a freshman boy with braces and acne into a group of cheerleaders. Keesha grabs the boy’s flute and drops it into a nearby trashcan.
There is a familiar flash of blonde hair and hot pink, and Madison is in front of the kid. She places a hand on his arm as she says something. To the surprise of everyone watching in the hall, Madison reaches into the trashcan and pulls out the flute. A banana peel is stuck to the bottom of the instrument case and she shakes it off into the garbage before handing it back to the freshman. She glances up, finally aware that she has an audience. Madison’s smile is bright as she says, “While I’m here, is anyone missing anything else? A retainer?”
Even though my blood is still boiling from the Prom Co
mmittee notes, a laugh escapes me. “Breaking news,” I say as she approaches. “Student council president dumpster dives.”
“I had to help him,” she says with shrug.
“No, you didn’t,” I challenge. I move aside so that she can access her locker.
“How was the rest of your day?” she asks.
“Pretty fascinating.” I bend down to pick up her black messenger bag. “Apparently we switched bags in the bathroom.” Madison’s mouth curves into a private smile at the mention of the bathroom.
“We did?”
I hand her the bag. “Yeah. I went looking for a pen and found your student council notebooks.” She grimaces at this and I wait for her to acknowledge what is in them. When she doesn’t I ask, “Didn’t you realize they were switched?”
She shakes her head and her ponytail bounces from left to right to left. “I never opened the bag.” I stare at her in disbelief and she adds, “There was a sub in History so we watched a movie. Then I had gym. I didn’t need anything out of there. I’m sorry I took your bag. I hope you didn’t get in trouble for not having your stuff.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Madison removes my bag from her shoulder and hands it to me.
“Are you okay?” Madison tilts her head to the side and there is genuine concern in her eyes.
“I’m fine.”
She closes her locker and shoves a textbook into her bag. “What do you want to do today? Study Spanish? Force me to watch the Notebook again?” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Fool around?” I don’t return her smile.
“Actually, I made other plans. So you’ll need to find another ride home.”
Her face falls. I should not feel guilty. I’m the one who’s just been played. “What plans?” she asks softly. “I thought we were hanging out?”
“Well, I’m hanging out with Scott instead.” I shoulder my bag and heads toward the door that leads to the senior parking lot. “Later,” I call and walk out of the building into the blinding sunshine.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE Madison would dick us around like that,” Scott says. Eight of us are crammed around a four-person table in the back corner of Bean Tree. The lazy barista is playing Ani DiFranco and I do my damnedest to try and block the memory of singing “You Had Time,” in front of Madison. I stare at the bulletin board on the wall next to us. It’s all advertisements for dog walking, drum lessons, and yoga classes. The Open Mic Night flyer has been replaced by a new one.
I focus on my friends. “I can.” Alex adds cream to his coffee. “She was totally being shady about it at the last meeting. I knew something had to be up.”
Kristin looks up from the photocopies I made of Madison’s Prom Committee notes. “Totally.” She flips through a few pages before passing it to Lexi. Darren leans on Lexi’s shoulder to get a better look.
“So how long has she been leading us on?” Darren asks.
“The vote was at the end of March.” My face burns with embarrassment and rage. “She’s played me—I mean us—for two months.”
Maura takes a sip of her hot chocolate and says, “I don’t get it. Madison’s nice. She wouldn’t do something like this.”
“Yet she did,” Scott says. “Never trust a nice girl.” He catches my eye. “But you can always trust a bitch.”
“So what’s the plan?” Jessica finishes her banana nut muffin and moves on to a chocolate chip cookie. “Are we just going to sit here and complain about being stabbed in the back or what?”
“No.” Scott says. “How can you eat at a time like this?”
“Easy,” Jessica says holding up the last half of her cookie. “I just open my mouth and put the food in and chew it like this.” She demonstrates and exaggerates swallowing. “Ta-da. What’s your plan, Brown?”
Scott pulls out a stack of papers. These are the ideas we scribbled down in haste on the drive over to Bean Tree. He looks at me and I nod for him to continue. “We throw our own prom. An Unprom, if you will.”
“Shut the front door,” Jessica says. “Can we even do that?”
“Yeah,” Scott says. “But only if we’re all on board with this.”
Everyone looks a little apprehensive. “We want our Purple Prom, right?” I ask. There are a few nods. “So this it.”
“I’m not following your freight train to crazy town,” Darren says. “Back it up to the station.”
Scott and I explain the Unprom episode of Dawson’s Creek. “You all should watch it,” I say. “It’ll make perfect sense. We hold our Unprom the same night as Prom, only in another location like a restaurant or something. Anyone is welcome to come. Not just upperclassman.”
“Isn’t your band playing Prom?” Jessica asks.
“Not anymore,” I say. Of course I need to clear it with Janet and Monica, but I have a feeling that they will support Unprom. Janet has been against playing prom from the start. “DTG will be the Unprom band.”
Maura plays with the green straw in her iced coffee. “Where are we holding it? Isn’t it kinda late to try and book someplace? It’s like next month.”
“We’re still working that out,” I say. “What about here?” I gesture to the interior of Bean Tree, but it might get too cramped. Then another idea pops into head. “Or what about the library?”
Scott shudders. “I can’t be seen in there. My reputation is at stake.”
“It’s not like this town is bursting with options,” I say. “Isn’t there a large meeting room we can rent?”
“Yeah,” Maura says. “I’ll ask my mom.”
The momentum builds once we get the ball rolling. Maura will tackle the location. Jessica and Kristin take on the food and drink situation. Darren volunteers to help Scott with decorations and posters. Lexi and I will handle anything else. There a million tiny things to think about but first I need to talk to the band. As we wrap up our emergency meeting I say, “Do not breathe a word about this until after Thursday’s Lion Pride meeting. I want to have things set in stone before we start announcing it.” I also want to see Madison’s face when we steal Prom out from under her. So that she can see how betrayal feels. I’m going to rip her heart out of her chest and drop kick it to the pavement just like she did to me.
“Totally,” Alex says picking up his bike helmet. “This is going to be epic.”
I IGNORE MADISON’S texts for the next three days. I dodge her in the hall. Scott, Maura, and I all skip the cafeteria in favor of working on Unprom details in Ms. Hawkins’s classroom during lunch. DTG signed on to be the Unprom band and everyone in Lion Pride is stepping up to the plate. When the meeting finally rolls around, Madison is the first to arrive.
“What is going on?” She hisses as she takes her usual seat next to me. She is wearing a white tank top and khakis with her pink flip-flops. “Are you avoiding me?”
I pretend not to notice how good her boobs look in that tank top. “You tell me.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about. What have you guys been doing at lunch?”
Scott walks in as I say, “Watching Dawson’s Creek.” I point to the old school TV and DVD player in the corner. Ms. Hawkins actually owns the entire series.
“Is that a new show?” she asks.
“Nope,” Scott says taking a seat on the other side of me. “It was big in the late ‘90’s.”
“How did you discover it?” Madison asks. She bumps her knee against mine. Desire zaps at my lady parts as I move my leg away.
Scott is stone-faced as he says, “Netflix.”
“Oh,” she says. “That’s cool.”
The rest of the club filters in. No one will meet Madison’s eyes.
“Is there something I should know about?” She asks.
“Prom,” Alex coughs into his hand. Jessica, who is sitting next to him and eating a small pizza, snorts.
“Did you say Prom?”
“So, what’s the deal?” I ask.
“I’m really sorry, Avery,” Madison says to me, all solemn and sweet. S
he has no idea what we have in store for her. “I know how much you guys really wanted to do something historic with the Purple Prom thing, but the prom committee really wants to go with their preplanned theme.”
“You don’t say,” Scott deadpans. “That’s a bummer.”
“I guess it’s okay to tell you now that their theme is ‘The Time of Your Life.’ They really want to play that old Green Day song.”
“That song is like a hundred years old,” I argue. “It’s prehistoric. Why couldn’t they choose something from this century? Like Purple Prom?”
She shrugs and glances down at the fake wood table. “Look, I tried, but the committee was practically unanimous with their decision. I’m sorry, the answer is no.”
Madison lifts her head, her ocean eyes all earnest and sweet, as though she actually thinks that Lion Pride is going to back down without a fight.
“How kind of you let us down so gently,” I say.
“What?”
“I mean you could have been honest from the start and told us the minute they shot our idea down, rather than lead us on for two months.”
“Lying is so not cool,” Scott says.
“I didn’t lie,” Madison defends.
“Right. Well, Maddie,” I say, using Miles’s nickname for her. “That’s too bad.” Scott and I share a look. “I guess we’re just gonna go and host our own prom then. An Unprom, if you will. The same date and time as your precious prom. And it’ll be free.” I fill her in on the party we’ve been furiously planning for the last three days.
Madison is stunned.
“Your prom committee can take your $100 tickets and shove them up your—” Alex says.
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