by Sandy Hall
“Tell her it was a bet! That we made a bet and I won and you totally forgot. This would be mutually beneficial because then I would feel even less guilt about saying no to the entire baseball team.”
“You really wouldn’t care if I threw you under the bus like that?”
“I really would not care. Especially if it meant that I didn’t have to listen to you whine and bitch anymore.”
“Have I really been that bad?”
Paisley nodded. “You need to call her.”
“No way! Can’t I mail her a kindly worded letter?”
“I don’t trust the postal service to get her that in time.”
“A postcard with some kind of beautiful vista on the front. Possibly a beach landscape, something soothing so she doesn’t kill me.”
At that moment, Henry’s phone chimed.
He looked at it like it was a bomb about to go off. “Oh god, oh god. It’s definitely going to be her. I don’t think I can handle it.”
He unlocked his phone and handed it to Paisley, covering his face with his hands.
“She’s asking about a boutonniere. And what color your tie is.”
“I need to wear a specifically colored tie?” Henry asked from behind his hands.
“I mean, you don’t have to. But some guys do I guess.”
Henry lowered his hands and let out a long sigh. “Give me the phone. I need to put both of us out of our misery.”
“By both, do you mean you and her, or you and me? Because I should be included in this no matter what. I have been miserable.”
He took his phone from Paisley and started crafting a text message.
“What do you think?” he asked Paisley after he finished.
She read it out loud. “Amelia, I’m so sorry to do this to you, but I have to go to the prom with my friend Paisley. It turned out I had already said yes to her a while ago and I totally forgot. I’m sure you understand. Sorry.”
Paisley shrugged. “I would feel rejected but would walk away quietly. I’m not Amelia, though. I’m sure she’ll find something to argue, some loophole, but it works in my personal opinion.”
Henry hit send. He sat back and tried to relax.
“Can I do something for you? A massage or something?”
He looked over at Paisley. “You would give me a massage?”
“Not really. But you seem so stressed out.”
“I am stressed out! I’ve been telling you I’m stressed out!”
“Okay, okay,” Paisley said, raising her hands defensively.
“You realize what you’ve done to yourself, right?” Henry asked with a wicked grin spreading across his face.
“What do you mean?”
“You have to go to the prom with me now.”
“What? No. I got you out of the prom.”
“Um, no. You got me out of the prom with Amelia.”
“Oh shit. I am the worst. I hate me. Everyone should hate me.”
Henry’s phone pinged. He took a deep breath and looked at the screen.
Henry showed it to Paisley. “Oh yeah, she hates you.”
“You know, I think I’m actually okay with that. I’m just so relieved. I can feel my ulcer going away already.”
“It doesn’t work like that, but whatever you need to tell yourself to get through the day,” Paisley said, patting him on the head.
“Thanks, Paisley. This was really excellent.”
She burped. “That meant you’re welcome. In case you couldn’t tell.”
Chapter 18
Paisley
Paisley wandered around the prom dress section of Macy’s searching not for the perfect dress but for any old dress that she didn’t absolutely hate. She hated a lot of dresses, so this was a challenge.
Most of them were too short or too long, too puffy or too flat. She wasn’t supermodel tall, and she did not have the boobs for a lot of the styles. And why was it too much to hope to find a dress with pockets? She’d be so much more comfortable through the whole evening if she had somewhere to stick her hands when she didn’t know what to do with them.
“How do I let him talk me into these things?” she muttered as she circled another rack. The only good news was that most of the dresses weren’t too expensive, even though she hated the idea of spending any of her hard-earned Hot Potato money on a dress she’d only wear once.
Her mom had offered to give her money for it, but it felt wrong. Paisley had gotten herself into this mess; she didn’t need a bailout from her mom.
She was well aware that if she hadn’t accidentally nominated Henry for prom king neither of them would have to go to the prom.
This dress was her penance.
She grabbed a black spaghetti strap number in a heavy satin with a peacock feather print across the front in whites and blues. She didn’t love it, but it had pockets, which after more thought had started to feel essential. Far more important than liking anything else about the dress.
In the fitting room, she stared at herself in the mirror, sticking her hands in the pockets and posing casually in one direction and then turning to pose casually in the other direction.
It honestly wasn’t so bad. She looked pale but not sickly in the dark, rich fabric, and it came in at the waist, making her feel feminine and a little bit flirty, even if she wasn’t a flirt.
She couldn’t resist giving a spin in the mirror, ignoring the goldfish-printed socks on her feet that totally ruined the look.
At sixty-eight dollars it was too good to pass up. Especially since she’d been willing to spend a hundred if she had to. She might even be able to wear this to her cousin’s wedding next fall.
There was a knock on her dressing room door just as she started another round of twirling.
“Do you need anything? Anything I could help with?” the saleswoman asked.
“No, I’m fine, thank you,” Paisley called back, feeling exposed. She quickly slid off the dress and put her Hot Potato uniform back on. Her shift started in fifteen minutes, so twirling time was definitely over.
Paisley purchased the dress and even had enough time left to run it out to her car. She didn’t want to get cheese sauce on the satin.
When she got to the potato stand a few minutes later, Lizzie was there and Madison was seated in her usual hiding spot.
“You should really get a job here; I’m sure we’re hiring,” Paisley said.
“It’s way more fun coming in to bother you guys. Besides, babysitting has been far more lucrative for me.”
“The potato business is nothing to frown upon,” Lizzie said in a fake haughty voice. “Potato futures are looking up.”
“What does that even mean?” Paisley asked.
“I have no idea, but sounded funny in my head,” Lizzie said.
The girls laughed.
“So here’s another funny thing, at least to me,” Paisley said. “I’m going to the prom.”
“Ugh. So am I,” Madison said.
“Me three,” Lizzie said.
“Yes, Lizzie, we know all about you,” Madison said. “So why are you going, Paisley?”
“Henry needed a favor.”
“Henry is no longer going with Miss Amelia Vaughn?” Lizzie asked, placing a scandalized hand on her chest.
“He is not,” Paisley said with grin.
“She must be on the warpath.”
“I don’t know,” Paisley said. “She was out sick today. Why are you going, Madison?”
“Well, I want to see what happens with Mystery Boy, obviously,” Madison said. “But also. It’s the prom. I might as well go.”
“Well, at least we can all have fun together,” Paisley offered.
“Ugh, fun,” Madison said.
But Paisley did feel a little better knowing her other friends would be there.
“Come on, maybe it won’t be so bad,” Lizzie said.
“Ever the optimist,” Paisley said.
“I’m definitely sneaking booze in,” Madison sai
d.
That worked for Paisley.
Otis
Otis’s dad returned from his business trip Friday night, but Otis knew enough to wait until Saturday to talk to him. The prom was less than two weeks away, and he’d already blown his opportunity with his mom. She was a firm no on the whole situation.
After mowing the lawn on Saturday afternoon, Otis found his dad out in the garage looking through a box of pool supplies for a pool they didn’t even have.
“How was your trip?” Otis asked.
His dad held up a length of tube. “Do you think your sister could use this for a robot she needs to make for the science fair?”
“Jillian’s participating in the middle school science fair?”
His dad rolled his eyes. “Your younger sister,” he clarified.
“A working robot or a model robot?”
His dad paused. “I don’t know.” He threw the tube in the laundry basket where he was apparently gathering things for Lindsey’s project.
“And my trip was okay.” His dad eyed Otis thoughtfully. “I hear you had a little adventure.”
“Funny you should bring that up.”
“Oh, very funny I’m sure.”
“Listen, I understand that I deserve to be punished. I shouldn’t have gone out, but I would really like to explain why I should be allowed to go to the prom.” Otis had decided to make a good show of arguing about his punishment with his dad even if he was feeling more and more relieved about this turn of events.
But his parents would be suspicious if he didn’t say anything at all, hence how he ended up in the garage with his dad on a Saturday afternoon.
His dad sucked in a breath and rubbed the stubble on his chin.
“I understand that, but I don’t need to hear your case, Otis. If you were so worried about the prom, you should have thought about that before you snuck out in the middle of the night.”
“I wasn’t thinking about the consequences.” Lies! the little angel voice in Otis’s head said.
“I know. I’m quite sure you weren’t, and that’s why we need to make sure that you really feel the consequences.”
“But what am I going to learn if you take this away? That keeping a promise to Luke isn’t important? Are you really setting the right example?” This argument was so weak, and yet his dad seemed to be buying it.
His dad rolled his eyes and chuckled. “I do feel bad for Luke. I’m not going to lie.”
“So don’t punish Luke for something dumb that I did!” Otis threw his arms up in the air to punctuate this sentiment. He might as well give the performance of a lifetime.
“Otis, it isn’t just that you went out past your curfew; it’s that you made your mother worry.”
“She was so worried she fell asleep.”
His dad gave him a warning look. “She’s always exhausted, especially in the wee hours of the morning. Her sleeping is not what’s on trial here.”
“I didn’t think she would even notice,” he said. His excuses were sounding worse and worse. His dad was going to realize this was a farce soon enough. Better to start wrapping things up.
“She always notices. She called me in the middle of the night, frantic that you weren’t home. She checked where your phone was and realized you were at the movies and that you were probably safe. But you gave her a good scare, not being where you were supposed to be.”
“But she saw me leave! How scared could she be?”
“This is also not a debate or discussion about what emotions your mother did or did not experience.”
“I know.” Otis crossed his arms and leaned against the garage wall. This was actually going better than he had hoped.
“You’re almost an adult, Otis,” he said. “This close.” He held his fingers a half an inch apart. “But you need to remember your actions have consequences, and from now on when you’re off on your own, you’ll keep this experience in mind and think twice.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
Otis frowned, but there was a little bubble of hope rising in his chest. He had put up a decent fight, and he was still not allowed to go. So this really was fate keeping him away from the prom and whatever was going to happen in Luke’s hotel room.
For a split second he thought about talking to his dad about that, about what to do about that. His parents had been remarkably cool when he came out to them, and they both were pretty fond of Luke, but did any parent really want to talk about sex with their kid? Any kind of sex?
Otis had to assume the answer was no.
He walked back into the house, relieved that at least if nothing else, there’d been no discussion of confiscating his cell phone.
He shot off a text to Madison.
He was really hoping that if he mentioned this to Madison it would eventually get back to Luke and solidify his case.
Otis sighed. No matter how relieved he felt, he was going to carry this guilt around with him for a long time. He’d give it one more try next week. Maybe there would be a change of heart in the Sorenson house.
Maybe Otis would have a change of heart himself. Anything was possible.
Chapter 19
Lizzie
How Lizzie had made it to the week before prom without realizing that she needed a prom dress was beyond her comprehension.
Subconsciously, she’d hoped something would have miraculously appeared in her closet just in the nick of time. But that wasn’t going to happen. And every possible dress she tried on from her closet and her mom’s closet definitely didn’t fit and definitely didn’t give her the confidence to meet Mystery Boy.
She even gave in and called her cousin. She was a few years older than Lizzie, but maybe she’d have something Lizzie could borrow. Unfortunately, none of her clothes fit Lizzie right, either. Some of it was too big, but none of it was going to work.
What was worse was Lizzie had no idea how she was going to get money for a dress. She’d used up whatever money she had from her most recent paycheck on her prom ticket, and she wanted to make sure she had enough for whatever they might do after prom. She was definitely cash flow poor. She had a savings account, but there wasn’t even that much in it, and she was going to need it next year to buy books for college way more than she needed a prom dress.
She finally had to give in and talk to her mom about it. She got up early before school Tuesday morning, much earlier than she had to, so she could see her mom before she left for work.
“Good morning, honey,” her mom said, punctuating the greeting with a big yawn while she poured coffee into a thermos.
“Hey, Mom.”
“What’s up? This is pretty early for you to be awake.”
“I kind of decided to go to the prom.”
“Well, that’s nice.”
“And I paid for my ticket, and everything is taken care of, but I don’t have a dress. I thought for sure I’d be able to find one by now. I went through every dress in this house, and I even called Aggie to see if she had anything.”
Lizzie slumped down in a kitchen chair.
Her mom went through the cabinets. “I have just the thing,” she mumbled as she moved around canned goods.
“I can’t even begin to fathom what you’re looking for in the kitchen cabinets.”
Her mom stood on her tiptoes and rooted around in the back of the cabinet before pulling out an envelope.
“Here you go,” she said with a grin.
“What?” Lizzie asked, taking the envelope. There was a small stack of singles and a couple of fives stashed away in it.
“It’s not much, but I’m sure it’s enough to get something on clearance or maybe from the thrift store.”
“Oh my god, Mom,” Lizzie said, jumping up to hug her. “What was this for? I don’t want to take money for the electric bill or something.”
“Nah, this is fun money that I’ve been squirreling away all year, knowing that you might need something for graduation. I was going to give it to
you anyway. But now you can use it for your dress.”
Lizzie squeezed her mom even harder, and her mom squeezed back. “Thank you so much.”
“I’m just glad you came to me,” her mom said.
“You have no idea. I was close to selling off my hair or something.”
“I don’t know if that actually works outside of old movies,” her mom said.
Lizzie bounced into school that morning. All in all, there was forty-three dollars in the envelope, and she was sure she could find something for that much. When she saw Madison she ran up to her.
“Do you have plans later?”
“Aside from softball practice? No.”
“I need to go prom dress shopping.”
“Oh, me too. I was going to wear something from my closet, but I don’t know. None of it felt right. Do you think we go to one of those schools where they won’t let girls wear tuxedos to prom?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Lizzie said.
The rest of the day dragged on, and then waiting for Madison to finish with softball practice dragged on, and then it was finally time to go dress shopping. Lizzie had honestly never been this excited about shopping before. It was definitely the joy of having money coupled with the relief of having money.
They walked into the mall just after six.
“Can we shop first and then eat?” Lizzie asked. She wasn’t sure she’d even have money for food, but this way she’d have a better chance at being able to eat.
“Yeah, sure. I think it’ll help us choose quicker.”
Madison walked them toward Lord & Taylor.
“Any chance we could try Macy’s first? Or even JCPenney?” Lizzie asked. She struggled to find an excuse for this request, then shrugged. “They tend to have a better selection of plus-size dresses and are more in my price range.”
“Sure, but since when do you need plus-size dresses?” Madison asked, turning on her heel and walking in the other direction.
“Since I’m plus size.”
“But you’re, like, not fat,” Madison said. No one had ever quite been so blunt about this before with Lizzie. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being fat. It’s just not a word I would use to describe you.”
“I’m fat enough.”