I watched Marcie and Johnny cross the stage toward each other. Marcie was wearing these wedge heels, so she walked kind of slowly. Johnny waited for her with his hand outstretched. She took it and they walked forward through the arch. When they stepped down onto the aluminum risers, the metal groaned under Johnny’s weight a bit louder than usual. Some of the underclassmen laughed, but Johnny kept on going without missing a beat. I thought I saw Marcie give his hand a little squeeze, which was likely, because she’s that type of person.
I inched forward in the line, trying to keep a sideways eye on Todd. I didn’t know what he had planned, but it couldn’t be good. When Gabe and Amanda got onstage, I looked back and forth between Gabe and Todd to see if Todd had any reaction to his girlfriend getting cozy with a totally smokin’ hot guy. But Todd didn’t seem to care. I was more jealous than he seemed to be. Even when Gabe offered not only his hand, but his muscled arm, which Amanda took, giggling. She was a pro at being coy; I’d give her that. She made flirting a religion, and right now she was worshipping at the altar of Gabe. But Todd didn’t bat a lash.
I, on the other hand, was not so cool. In fact, I had started to sweat like a beauty queen at the last minute of a pregnancy test. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine ice cubes in my armpits, and cool water dripping down my neck and arms. I had almost gotten my heart rate slowed from frantic to merely anxious when Principal Miller called out, “Fiona Sheehan and Todd Harding.”
Oh God. Up I went.
I climbed the steps and turned to face Todd. We walked toward one another, glaring into each other’s eyes. I didn’t want to trip, but I didn’t want to break his stare, either. When we got within arm’s reach, I held out my hand, trying to be dignified. But Todd broke my gaze and walked right past me to the curtain at the side of the stage. He reached into the velvet drape and pulled out . . . a doll. A blow-up doll. A blow-up sex doll with a black wig and brown glasses like mine, and a silver plastic tiara taped to its head with duct tape. The doll did have pants on—cargos, like I wear. Only, the crotch of the cargos was soaking wet. Dripping down the inside of the legs. As for the top—there was none. The boobs had been smashed in and taped over with duct tape so that the doll was flat-chested. But there were a pair of very attractive black Magic Marker nipples drawn on the duct tape. In the interest of maintaining anatomical correctness, I’m sure.
The auditorium exploded in hysterics. Todd grabbed the doll, straddled it, and galloped around the stage like it was a horse—whip action, and all. Then he ran through the arch to the front of the stage (dodging Principal Miller, who seemed shocked into immobility anyway). He held the doll as high as he could and yelled, “PRESENTING PRINCESS PISSPANTS!” A handful of underclassmen laughed. Then more joined in. Then Todd’s bonehead buddy started chanting, “PRINCESS PISSPANTS, PRINCESS PISSPANTS,” and soon everyone was either cracking up or chanting along.
Principal Miller said, “All right! Quiet down,” but no one really did. Todd marched down the risers with the doll on his arm and paraded it up the aisle as everyone cheered. I stood alone on the stage. Well, me and the principal, who shuffled me to the edge and shooed me off. Evidently, she had become quite skilled at pretending not to notice things.
I toddled down the risers and stood frozen at the bottom. Everyone was chanting louder than ever. And laughing. And pointing. At me. I had no idea what to do or where to go. Suddenly, I saw Marcie striding toward me. She took my arm and walked me up the aisle. Johnny met us halfway and someone shouted, “Ooh, a threesome!” But I was beyond caring. All I wanted was to get out of there. Well, that—and to figure out a way to pay Todd back.
We got through the doors to the vestibule outside the auditorium, and Johnny asked, “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay,” I said. “That goddamn bastard.” I looked around the vestibule for him, but he was nowhere to be seen. Sonofabitch coward.
“Todd Harding is a total prick,” Marcie said. “I cannot believe he did that.”
“I can,” Johnny and I both said at the same time. A little laugh popped out of me. “Jinx,” I said. “You owe me a beer.” Johnny blushed and ran his fingers through his thick, shaggy hair.
I stared at the bulletin board with the marriage ed lists on it. I pulled out one of the thumbtacks and stuck it right through Todd’s name. “Listen Mar,” I said, “I’m getting him back, and I’m gonna need your help. I’m thinking tonight, at the dance. Are you in?”
Marcie clucked her tongue at me. “Come on, Fee. Be the bigger person.”
“Bigger person? What you mean is back down. No way. I’m not hiding from him. Then he wins.”
“Yeah, but it’s not a battle. You’re supposed to be married.”
“Screw that.”
She crossed her ivory arms. Even after being outdoors all summer, she’d managed to avoid any sun damage. “Okay, but like it or not, that’s the way it is if you want to graduate and get the hell out of high school.”
“Marcie, are you going to help me or not?”
She sighed and dropped her arms. Her bracelets clinked together. “Yes, I’ll help you. You know I will.”
“Thank you.”
“Uh . . . you know, I could . . . help too,” Johnny said. “I mean . . . if you need it.”
“For real?” I asked.
Johnny twitched his head. “Sure. I can’t dance anyway. What else is there to do?”
I reached up and patted him once on his beefy shoulder. “Awesome, Johnny. Thanks.”
I checked the clock above the auditorium doors: eight-forty-five. Exactly one hour for me to figure out what I was going to say to Todd at our counseling session. I couldn’t wait for him to get reamed out by Maggie Klein. I’d never seen her go ballistic before, so it was going to be a treat.
And afterward, I’d have the rest of the day to plan my revenge.
CHAPTER 6
“PLEASE COME IN, FIONA. TODD IS ALREADY HERE.”
Maggie Klein had been the guidance counselor at East Columbus ever since I was a freshman. She couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years older than me, but she carried herself like a middle-aged ex-hippie. She insisted that everyone in school call her Maggie, and everything she said sounded like a meditation mantra. She always wore scarves and smelled like vanilla and roasted almonds. She’d never been married, so I wasn’t sure what she thought she could teach us about marriage. But maybe she’d picked up some tips from the string of men she’d been seen with around town over the past few years.
“Take a seat, Fiona,” Maggie Klein said. I did. But not before I sent a barrage of eye daggers through the back of Todd’s skull. “Okay. Welcome, Fiona. Welcome, Todd. I think it’s obvious that we need to begin this session by addressing what happened earlier at the mock wedding ceremony. Todd, would you like to start?”
“Ha! Why does he get to start?” I blurted.
Maggie Klein turned her head to me the exact way an owl does when it’s scoping out its prey. “Because Todd was here first, Fiona.” Her head swiveled back to Todd. “Now, tell me, Todd. Why did you think it was acceptable to bring that doll to the wedding?”
Why did he what? Acceptable? Um, hello? Where was the part where she yells at him and he gets in trouble?
“Well, Maggie,” he cooed, “I noticed that some of my classmates were a bit . . . well, uptight about the marriage education course. So I took it upon myself to add some levity to what was surely a stressful moment for many of my fellow seniors.”
Hold the phone. What was Todd up to? I sat up higher in my cushioned chair and watched him.
“Todd, I understand your desire to help your fellow students,” Maggie Klein said, reaching over to adjust a vase of daisies on her pristine desk. “And although your motives may be honorable, you must understand that your actions were disturbing. Can you see that?”
I snorted. Loud.
“Fiona? You will get your turn to speak in a moment. Now, Todd. Do you understand how your actions in the audito
rium could be taken as something other than funny?”
Todd furrowed his brow and nodded. “I do understand that. Believe me; I had a totally different objective.”
Yeah, I bet you did, you jackhole. For a second I imagined grabbing the wooden Buddha off Maggie Klein’s bookshelf and using it to give Todd’s face a totally different objective. But of course, I didn’t. I pride myself on restraint.
Maggie Klein continued. “And you realize that a doll like that represents the objectification of women in a most deprecating way?”
Aha. All right. Finally she was going to let loose. She must’ve been one of those roundabout hell givers. The kind who trick you into getting comfortable and thinking the noose is a necktie. Until they sneak up behind you and pull the lever.
Todd shook his head and leaned toward Maggie Klein. “Objectify women? Me? Come on, Maggie, do you really think I’m the kind of person to objectify women?” He flashed his phony smile at her.
Maggie Klein melted in front of me. “No, of course not,” she said, returning his smile, and throwing a few girly giggles in on top. Todd had slipped out of the noose. “I’m glad we cleared that up.” She clapped her hands together and said, “Okay! I think we can really start this session from a place of peace now.”
Todd looked at me and beamed. His charming bullshit was getting him off scot-free, and he knew it.
Wow.
It seemed that I had grossly underestimated the No-necked Neanderthal.
I slammed my hands down on the arms of my chair and cried, “What the hell?”
Maggie Klein issued a condescending sigh and said, “Fiona, in my office, there is no yelling, and no cursing. All communication is done in a mature, constructive fashion. Do I make myself clear?” She gave me what I suppose was meant to be a stern face. Looked more like the side effects of severe constipation.
“No,” I said, “you don’t make yourself clear. Nothing you’ve said makes any freaking sense at all. How is it that this jerk-face can humiliate me in front of the whole entire student body, and you don’t bat an eye? But if I say the word hell in your office, then you get mad? No, Maggie Klein, that is not clear at all.”
Maggie Klein blinked a few times and said, “Humiliate you? What makes you think Todd’s little antics were directed at you?”
Todd leaned over the arm of his chair. “Yes, Fiona. Why on earth would you think that was about you? Hmmmm?”
I sat there with my yap open. Maggie Klein had never connected that the doll was me. And how could I explain that it was? By going over the soggy details of Callie Brooks’s seventh birthday party? From ten years ago? And in front of Todd?
No freaking way. Nope. I was stuck. I was screwed.
I rubbed the soles of my sneakers together. “Well, I just . . . figured it . . . was,” I mumbled.
Maggie Klein said, “Now, Todd. There’s no mistaking that the doll was inappropriate. But you didn’t intend for it to represent Fiona, did you? That would be extremely meanspirited. Not to mention a clear case of sexual harassment.”
I noticed Todd’s grin slip when he heard that. He crossed his arms, looked down at the floor, and started bouncing one leg up and down.
Maggie Klein went on. “And I’m sure that was far beyond the scope of your intentions for your little caper. Am I correct?”
Todd shrugged. “Sure.”
“Because that would be a serious offense requiring disciplinary action.”
Todd nodded slowly but kept quiet. Maybe he wasn’t in the noose, but Maggie Klein was definitely dangling it in front of him. I figured that was about as close to resolution as I was going to get. Revenge, however, would get much closer.
“Okay, let’s push on. First, we need to figure out what your shared activity will be for the semester. Who’s going to choose this time?”
Todd and I each belted out, “I am.”
“Well, you both can’t pick. Let’s try Rock Paper Scissors. Whoever wins picks this semester. The other person can select the real-world job.”
Todd and I turned to face each other. It was a gunfight in the MK corral. I figured I had him pretty well sussed. He was macho. Pseudo-tough guy. He’d definitely go Rock. We balled our fists. Slapped them on our palms three times saying, “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.” I threw out my hand as Paper.
Todd had thrown Scissors. Damn. I should have known. Scissors cut. Scissors could stab. Scissors were shiny and sharp, like Todd.
“What will it be, Todd?” Maggie Klein chirped.
“Well, Maggie, for our first-semester activity, Fiona and I will share the experience of cheerleading.”
Let me just pause to give a brief history of Todd Harding and cheerleading. It’s a legendary story at ECHS.
Freshman year, Todd moved to East Columbus and played football. He was some kind of prodigy or star or whatever. Anyway, halfway through the game with Lincoln High, Todd gets sacked and cracks four ribs. He’s out for the season. Todd’s mother goes mental and forbids him from playing football ever again.
Fast-forward to sophomore year. Todd and Amanda have been dating for a while. She’s a cheerleader and convinces him to try out for the winter squad so they can spend more time together. Barf, I know. But he does, and, because he’s strong, they can do these crazy mounts or stunts, and bigger pyramids and crap now. So the cheerleaders love him. But one day Brendan Jackson, who was the varsity quarterback, calls Todd queer because he’s a cheerleader. And Todd says (and this is the really famous part), “Lemme get this straight, Brendan. I spend all afternoon with my hands between a hot cheerleader’s thighs, looking up her skirt as I hold her above me. Meanwhile, you’re bent over, sticking your fingers in some fat guy’s butt crack again and again. But I’m the gay one?” That shut up Brendan and anyone else who ever thought of giving Todd a hard time. But it wasn’t going to shut me up.
“No way. I’m not taking part in some costumed display of bouncing boobs that espouses phony school spirit and is disguised as a sport.” That was my little way of hiding the fact that one, I have no boobs, and two, I couldn’t do sports.
“Don’t worry,” Todd said, “you won’t be doing any actual cheering.” He bounced his head from side to side. “You can be the squad water girl.” He slurped from an invisible water bottle.
I opened my mouth to object, loudly, but Maggie Klein cut me off. “It’s settled, then! Cheerleading it is.” She wrote it in the stupid marriage ed file. “Fiona, have you given any thought to what job you’d like to share with Todd to earn your real-world cash?
No, of course I hadn’t. I had blocked this damn course from my mind as much as possible. “Yes,” I lied. But only one job popped into my head—the one I already had. I said, “I babysit for an eleven-year-old girl. I’d have to check with her parents, but if they give the okay, then Todd and I can babysit together.” The instant those words hit the air, I did a mental head-smack. I’d just forfeited my only source of spending money for the entire semester. Ugh. I hoped, hoped, hoped Todd would object. Then I could make up something else. Leaf raking, maybe. Leaf raking would’ve been perfect!
But Todd waved his hand in the air, saying, “Pshhh, no prob.”
“Wait, I changed my mind,” I said. “Leaf raking. We’ll rake leaves.”
“No, no,” Todd said. “You said babysitting. We’ll do babysitting.” He grinned at me and blinked a few times. “It’ll give us more quality together time.”
“Oooh, nice observation, Todd!” Maggie Klein said.
I tried to object. “But—”
Maggie Klein scribbled on the sheet. “I’ve already written it down. Okay, you two are babysitters. Great.”
Dammit.
“Now, let’s move on to the budget.” Maggie Klein held out a red velvet bag with a drawstring top. “Todd, I’d like you to reach in here and select a coin.”
Todd stretched out his hand. I thought I saw his fingers graze hers as he reached inside. I was almost sure I saw his wrist brush against her thumbs
as he playfully swirled his hand inside the bag. I definitely saw her blushing.
He pulled out a coin with the number 150 on it.
“Well done, Todd! One-fifty is the highest Income Factor available. There are only two of them in the bag. Okay, multiply any cash you earn by 150, and that’s how much you have to spend on the monthly expenses outlined in your packet. You decide together what to spend it on, and turn it in to me at the end of each month.” She leaned closer to Todd and made her voice all lilty. “I’ll bet you can buy the nice house.” I swear she fluttered her eyelashes at him.
He leaned in to her. “And the luxury hybrid car.” They both laughed.
“One more thing,” she said. “Even though you perform your job together, you must decide who in the marriage is theoretically the breadwinner. Is it just one of you? Do you both contribute to the household? It may come into play later on in the course, so decide carefully. Questions?”
I pride myself on my ability to keep my mouth shut, so I shook my head.
Todd said, “No, Maggie, you’ve explained it very well.”
Maggie Klein blushed again. Todd was some kind of charisma savant. A sexy hypnotist for lonely, aging women. Total cougar crack.
“Okay, then. Remember to write in your journals. And note on your schedules that we have a regular fifteen-minute counseling session every . . .” She snatched up a sheet of paper. “. . . Tuesday at eleven o’clock. So I’ll see the two of you then, okay?” She really liked to make sure things were okay.
“Looking forward to it,” Todd said, reaching out his hand. She clasped it gently and they shook. How is it that pretty boys can get away with so much crap?
CHAPTER 7
THE ART OF PULLING PRANKS IS SOMETHING I’VE never mastered. In fact, I can’t even tell jokes. I always mix up the words, or laugh too hard at myself, or get to the punch line only to realize I’d forgotten a key piece of information. (“Wait, wait, did I mention he was wearing a wet suit? I forgot to say he was wearing a wet suit. Pretend I said that.”) So it was a good thing I had Mar and Johnny to help strategize a plan for revenge on Todd. By the time we got everything together and got to the gym that night, the dance had already started. We stopped in the lobby outside the gym doors to do a double check. Music thumped inside.
A Match Made in High School Page 4