“It’s not my fault this is boring,” I said softly. “He made it seem like it would be some big movie premiere with lots of people.”
“Yeah, lots of old people.”
She scanned the room, waving her hands around. “Check out his grandmother. I think she is going to the bathroom in her pants,” she whispered, pointing. “Look at her face.”
His gray-haired grandma was sitting serenely on a wingback chair with an expression of pure contentment.
“She’s either peeing or she’s medicated.” Madison chuckled.
“Shut up.” I smiled and covered my mouth.
“Could you imagine wearing granny diapers and just peeing whenever, wherever you wanted?” Madison continued with a mischievous grin.
“Shhh!” I murmured, a giggle slipping through my fingers.
“Just think of all the time you’d save not waiting in line for the bathroom.”
“But do you think they change them each time they go?” Emily chimed in. “Because it’s kinda gross just to sit there in your own pee.”
“Or worse ...”
“Oh, that’s disgusting!” I groaned.
“But it does explain why old people smell funny.”
“Madison!” I half-whispered, half-yelled.
The three of us were giggling so hard tears spurted down our cheeks.
“What’d I miss?” Lilly asked, diving into our conversation. “Please tell me, because it seems a lot more fun than 35-mm film exposures.”
I was so giddy I couldn’t get out the words before Bobby’s dad sauntered down the stairs toward his mother.
“Nanna, is everything going all right? You need any help?” he asked.
Madison and I broke into another round of hysterics. I wiped at my eyes and tried to swallow the snorts, but I couldn’t control myself. Emily had a much better grasp on her composure. She chewed her lip and rapidly turned away.
“You girls seem to be having a good time,” Bobby’s dad said as he approached.
He looked so much like his son, with a tall, thin build and a pointy nose; only his blond curls were darker and cropped short against his head. He wore wire-frame glasses with jeans and a corduroy blazer. Even if I didn’t already know he was a German professor at Penn, it would not have been hard to figure out.
“Um, we’re fine,” I choked as I tried to calm down.
“Yeah, it was just, uh, Emily said something funny,” Madison lied.
Emily instantly covered her face with her hands, and I could feel the embarrassment pulsating off her.
“Emily?” Mr. McNabb muttered, peering at her.
She slowly lowered her palms and gazed at him through her long eyelashes.
“Um, it was nothing,” she mumbled. “I just said something stupid.”
Mr. McNabb stared at her with such intensity that I wondered if Bobby had mentioned Emily’s name before. Maybe he had told his dad about their date this past summer. Or maybe he did really have feelings for her. My gaze shifted between the two of them.
“Um, uh,” his dad stuttered, his shoulders squirming. “I, uh, hope you girls have a good time tonight.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” she said politely, her brown eyes fixed on his face.
“Yeah, me too. Your house is really nice,” I added.
Madison and Lilly nodded in agreement.
“No problem.”
Mr. McNabb spun off towards the playroom just as Bobby entered the room. The mood instantly lifted as everyone simultaneously ceased what they were doing to look at him. Their expressions seemed more like those of fans gawking at a celebrity, than relatives bored by a kid’s low-budget student film.
“Hello, everyone,” Bobby said, sounding very official. “Glad you could make it.”
Guests immediately filed out of the playroom to take their seats on folding chairs and pillow cushions plopped on the plush-carpeted basement floor. Bobby’s mom and dad sat alongside his grandmother, right beside the jumbo flat-screen TV.
Bobby ran his hand through his curls, tilting his head toward the recessed lights, before letting his fingers slide slowly down his neck. It almost looked like a prerehearsed pose, and if it was, it was rather effective. For a moment, he appeared deep and artistically tormented. When his green eyes turned to me and he smiled, I felt oddly drawn to him in a way I usually felt when watching male dancers execute intense ballet moves with effortless power. It was the look of talent. And I had never seen such confidence in my locker buddy before.
“I’d like to take this time to thank you all for being here, since this is probably the closest I’ll ever get to a real audience. Thanks, Mom.” Everyone smiled and laughed on cue. “Tonight I’m going to debut the documentary I made in Ireland featuring the struggle between the Catholics and Protestants as shown through the lives of two very real teenagers. Having grown up in a country where God is a controversial word, it was interesting to see two people, my age, who believe so strongly in opposing religious views, views that to most of us don’t seem a whole lot different. God’s a big deal.”
Everyone cheered and applauded.
“Please don’t. You’re wasting your time. God doesn’t oversee the upper middle class. We pray to Bill Gates,” Bobby stated with a deadpan expression.
Everyone roared again.
It was a pure blend of self-deprecating humor and thought-provoking insight. My heart melted. I didn’t even need to see the movie to know it would be great. He was great. He had already sold me on the film.
“Now if my stage hand could dim the lights. Mom.” Bobby waved toward the switch, and everyone chuckled. “We’ll begin. I hope you enjoy God Save Ireland.”
The documentary was amazing. The way Bobby was able get those teens to open up was impressive. Plus his use of historical footage with current Irish music perfectly illustrated the situation, but with a modern, youthful perspective. Even the editing was remarkable, just fast enough to keep the viewer engaged, but not so fast that it felt like an MTV segment. It more than made up for the hour of foosball and granny panty discussions we had to endure waiting for it.
“I can’t believe Bobby, Locker Buddy Bobby, made that,” I muttered.
“Apparently, there’s more to him than just his locker,” Lilly stated.
“I’ve always seen him with his camera. I guess I always thought it was just a geeky hobby,” Madison added.
“He’s really talented,” Emily stated.
I looked at her. She smiled and shrugged.
“I mean, didn’t you think it was good?” Emily asked quietly, staring at her black boots.
“Good? It was freakin’ amazing! He’s going to be famous one day—full out Oscar nomination. Without a doubt.”
“What was that?” Bobby asked, startling me.
He was standing so close, I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. A shivery thrill crept through me, and I spun around.
“I said that you are America’s next great cinematic genius. Scorsese better watch out.”
“I prefer Woody Allen.”
“Professionally or socially? Because I don’t think you want to follow his lead and marry your stepdaughter,” I joked.
“So, I have children now!”
“Of course, you’re a famous filmmaker with a mansion in Bel Air.”
“What happened to my being a starving artist in the Lower East Side?”
“I thought that before I saw your movie. Now I think you’re going to be a fat, pampered Hollywood director tormented by his sudden fame and the pressure to please his investors.”
Bobby chuckled. “I’m glad you liked it.”
“No, I loved it.”
He gazed into my eyes, saying nothing. I couldn’t stop smiling. That is until Lilly indiscreetly coughed beside me.
“Oh, right,” I shook my head. “We all loved it. Right, girls? Em, why don’t you tell Bobby what you thought of the movie?”
“Oh, um, I, uh, I really liked it,” she stammered. “Yo
u did a great job.”
“Thanks.” He nodded at her.
“So, Bobby, are you gonna show this to other people? Because it’s really good,” Madison asked.
“I don’t know. I might enter it in a few contests or something.. . .”
“What about showing it at school? I mean, if we can have an assembly to celebrate our losing football team, I don’t see why we can’t have a screening of your film. Maybe we should talk to Dean Pruitt?” I suggested.
“We?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You mean you’d help me?”
“Totally. Dean Pruitt and my dad are tight. How do you think Lilly got here?”
I caught Madison and Emily exchanging an odd stare.
“You guys wanna help?” I asked.
“No, I think you’ve got it handled,” Emily stated quickly.
“You sure? It could be a cool project. And I bet I could talk the soon-to-be-famous director into thanking us in the program.” I smiled at Bobby.
“I’m sure you could,” Madison mumbled under her breath.
“Well, I’ll help!” Lilly cheered. “Clearly tennis isn’t my calling, so I need to start looking into some other activities before I lose all self-esteem.”
“Great. I’ll stop by the office on Monday and see if Pruitt’ll meet with us. We can discuss strategy tomorrow... .”
“We’re going shopping tomorrow,” Madison interjected. “Your Sweet Sixteen dress, remember?”
“Oh, crap. Well, then we’ll figure something out,” I said before turning to Bobby. “I’ll give you the lowdown at the lockers Monday morning.”
“Great. Thanks for your help. Seriously.”
“No problem. But if I ever get the urge to don a tutu and perform Swan Lake center stage in the Spring Mills auditorium, you better help me hook that up.”
“It’s a promise.”
Chapter 22
The next day, I sat in Madison’s car cruising the parking lot. There were more than sixty shopping days until Christmas, yet every spot was occupied. Of course, this wasn’t an ordinary shopping complex with a modest parking lot, two anchor stores, and a single aisle of stores connecting them. No, this was King of Prussia, a mall known for being one of the largest in the country (though it didn’t have an amusement park or anything). With eight department stores and several hundred boutiques, it was somewhat of a local shopping Mecca, which Madison prayed to often.
“All right, I’m about ready to just give up, park across the street and walk it,” Madison huffed, as she spun down another packed lane of cars.
“Why don’t you head over toward Bloomingdale’s. There’s usually more parking on that side of the mall,” Emily suggested.
“But then I’ll get lost getting out of here. I only know how to exit from Macy’s. The last time I tried to go a different way I ended up halfway to the Poconos before I figured it out.”
“I can get you home,” Emily insisted.
“You don’t even have a driver’s permit.”
“Is it my fault that my birthday’s not ’til May?”
“Okay, young buck. Wait ’til everyone starts turning twenty-one; then it’ll really suck to have the last birthday.”
“Yeah, well wait ’til everyone turns thirty, then I’ll be the envy of all of you.”
“Wait! Right there! There’s a spot!” I hollered, pointing toward a large, middle-aged woman loading an armful of bags into her trunk.
“Thank God!” Madison sighed, turning on her blinker.
A large SUV with a blond female driver pulled up from the opposite direction also attempting to claim the spot.
“I will seriously kick some ass... .” Madison muttered, flashing her high beams at the twenty-something driver until she pulled away. “Yeah, you better run.”
A few minutes later, Madison parked the car, and we all jumped out and headed toward Neiman Marcus. My mother had handed me my father’s credit card before I left and whispered something about how having the party at home was saving them loads of cash, so I could feel free to spend away on the dress. She would have jumped at the chance to be included, but something about having my mom in the dressing room with me was beyond humiliating. I still hadn’t forgotten my eighth grade graduation fiasco—she had told the saleswoman helping me that I was difficult to shop for because of my “tiny little nibblers.” Considering two years had passed and my boobs still hadn’t sprouted past the training bra stage, I could only imagine how my mom would describe them this time around.
We hopped on the escalator to the second level. The marble floor shined. A pianist played live music on the baby grand. Madison knew the layout of the mall and every shop in it better than most war generals knew their battle plans. She was on a mission, and it would be accomplished by dinnertime.
“Okay, first thing we need to consider is length,” Madison stated as she strolled confidently toward a rack of gowns. “Do we want short or long?”
“Short, definitely,” I stated.
“Dress or skirt?”
“I don’t care.”
“Then definitely a dress.”
I scanned the store. It had only been thirty seconds, and I was already positive I wouldn’t find anything I liked. Unlike Madison, I was not born with the shopping gene. I hated trying on clothes, taking my shoes on and off, pulling my jeans up and down, creating a scientifically certified electrical experiment with the static in my hair. But thanks to Madison’s last-minute check, I was at least more prepared for the ordeal.
“All right, here’s the deal. Wear slip-on high-heeled shoes with no socks, so we can get an accurate take on the length and style. Wear a button-down shirt to avoid snagging your hair. And no jewelry. We need a blank slate,” she had stated earlier.
Lilly immediately separated from the pack to peruse a collection of colorful dresses on the other side of the department. Emily attacked the opposite sides of racks Madison was scanning, and I watched.
“Do you have a preferred neckline?” Madison asked as she fondled a navy halter swinging from its hanger.
“Ideally something that doesn’t draw too much attention to my lack of feminine attributes.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Look at Debra Messing. She’s one of the best dressed women on the red carpet and she’s got your same ‘tiny little nibblers.’” Madison chuckled.
“Must you remind me?” I rolled my eyes.
“You can always wear a water bra,” Emily stated.
“Yeah, and I can just see a fork accidentally perforating a boob during dinner. Could you imagine? I would forever be known as ‘Niagara Falls.’ ”
“No, how ’bout ‘A River Runs Through It’?” Emily joked.
“Or ‘Waterworld,’” I added.
“Hey, don’t knock ’em. Those bras work.” Madison lifted a white strapless dress.
“You do not own a water bra!”
“Uh, yeah. You should have seen my boobs at my party. We’re talking Pamela Anderson prior to getting her implants removed.”
“I thought she had them put back in?” Emily asked.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Madison shrugged.
“Anyway, I don’t even think a water bra will help me. Seriously, the day I have cleavage will be the day Vince takes the oath of office.”
“How is he anyway?” Emily asked.
“You mean aside from the pictures of him funneling beer and swimming naked?” I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, I’m not sure he’s found his classes yet.”
“We should go visit him,” Emily suggested.
“Road trip in the Audi!” Madison cheered. “I love it!”
“Well, he did mention he’s getting ‘initiated’ in a couple weeks. He actually asked me to come up.”
“Perfect!” Madison smiled, holding up a chocolate brown satin dress with an asymmetrical neckline and enough beading to make a ‘mother of the bride’ proud.
“Please tell me you’re not talking about the dress... .”
&n
bsp; “Too much?” she asked, tilting her head as she stared at it. “Anyway, I was talking about the trip. Count us in.”
Just then, Lilly strolled over with an armful of colorful creations ranging from canary yellow to bright coral.
“All right, I found some. Let’s hit the dressing room!”
“Do you have anything there that wasn’t thrown up by the Care Bears?” Madison snapped, flicking her hand at my cousin.
“What? You haven’t even seen them yet.”
“Actually, I can see them quite well. I think I’ll need sunglasses to look any closer.”
“Since when is color out?”
“Since the eighties ended.”
“Mariana ...” Lilly whined with a frown.
“I am an equal opportunity shopper,” I stated. “I will try on anything that’s brought to me. Once I’m naked I don’t care how many dresses I zip.”
“Well, we don’t have time to play games.” Madison curled her lips to the side.
“Sure we do. Plus, I have no idea what I’m looking for. I might as well try on everything.”
Lilly beamed as she grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the fitting room. I could already tell it was going to be a very long day.
Exactly one hundred and four dresses later, after we visited four department stores and a half-dozen evening gown boutiques, I finally found a dress I liked. Only it wasn’t an instant success with the team.
“But it’s black,” Emily moaned as I posed in front of three full-length mirrors angled to show my bodily imperfections from every possible view.
“I thought you guys hated color,” Lilly snipped.
“I know, but black is so black. It’s blah. It’s the color of death and mourning.”
“No, it’s the color of sophistication,” I rebutted as I turned to look at my butt.
The dress was loose fitting and fell straight to my knees with no defined waist. I called it a tube dress, while Madison called it a 1920s flapper-style cut. It had a modest V neck accented with ruffles to plump my petite chest and a matching hint of ruffle at the shoulder. Starting a few inches below my waist was a series of five ruffled pleats, ending just above my knee. It was subtle, it was modern, it was comfortable, and it wasn’t over-the-top attention-grabbing. It was exactly me.
Amigas and School Scandals Page 14