After locking the door of the den against Mark’s prying eyes, I turned on the stereo, popped a tape into the cassette deck, and turned to face my pupil.
“Well, are you ready?” I asked as a pulsing rock ’n’ roll beat blasted out of the speakers.
Gary shrugged. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. What do I do first?”
So I showed him. Actually, the lesson wasn’t nearly as bad as I had been afraid it might be. Gary's size-fourteen feet did tend to get in the way a bit at times, but they didn’t do any permanent damage to mine, and Gary had a surprisingly good sense of rhythm. I felt sure that with practice, he wouldn’t have anything to be ashamed of on prom night. Of course, he probably wouldn't have Colette Carroll, either, but I certainly wasn’t going to bring that up.
“Well, I guess that takes care of it,” I told Gary half an hour later. “I think you’ll do just fine.”
“What about slow dancing?” he asked.
“What about it?”
“Don’t they usually have some of that, too?”
“Well, yes, but...”
“Then hadn't we better work on it?”
It was a sensible request, but for some reason I hesitated. “There’s really nothing to it, Gary,” I told him. “All you have to do is put your arms around her and sway back and forth. It’s a lot easier than what we've been doing.”
“Maybe so, but it would make me feel a whole lot better if we tried it just once. Isn't there some tape there that we could use?”
“I guess so,” I said reluctantly. “Let me look.”
I sorted through my collection again until I found a suitable tape, a cassette containing a song called “No One in the World Like You.” As I selected the track and pushed the play button, I couldn't help contrasting the slow, romantic ballad to my dance partner. With his shaggy hair and Coke-bottle glasses, Gary certainly fit the title, although he probably wasn’t exactly what the songwriter had in mind.
We spent the first few measures of the introduction getting our feet in the proper position and out of each other’s way. Once that was settled, Gary put his arms around me and drew me close. Because of the difference in our heights, the top of my head barely reached his shoulder. I had two choices: I could either rest my head against his chest, or hold it at an uncomfortable angle as far away from him as I could get. I chose the latter. Gary must have sensed my uneasiness, because at that moment he looked down at me and grinned.
“I won’t bite you unless you bite me first,” he said.
I glanced up, about to make some response, and found Gary's face only inches from mine. Suddenly my heart was pounding so hard, I felt short of breath. I looked quickly away, confused by my reaction to his nearness. What was the matter with me, anyway? It was all so silly—this was only good old Gary Hadley, and I was only a substitute for Colette.
I forced myself to relax, and for the next few minutes we swayed back and forth in time to the music. Neither of us said a word. I figured that Gary was concentrating on keeping his feet out of my way. As for me, I couldn’t have spoken if my life depended on it. It would have been impossible to carry on a conversation while my insides were turning to mush.
At last the final notes of the song faded away, but for a moment we just stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms.
Suddenly there was a loud pounding on the door. “Aren't you guys finished yet?” Mark demanded from the other side. “The baseball game I wanted to watch came on TV ten minutes ago!”
The spell was broken, and I took a wobbly step backward out of Gary's embrace.
“Anyway, that's how it’s done,” I said, then hurried to unlock the door.
Mark strode across the den and headed straight for the television. He turned it on and switched channels until he found his game, then planted himself on the couch
Gary flopped down beside him. “Who’s playing?” he asked, apparently unaware that anything unusual had just taken place.
I didn’t hear Mark’s reply. I was too busy puzzling over the strange sensations I had experienced during the last dance. Remembering the feel of Gary's arms around me, I shivered a little, and the thought occurred to me that Colette Carroll—or any other girl, for that matter—could do a lot worse than going to the prom with Gary Hadley.
But I knew that Colette would never look twice at him, and it really wasn't fair. Gary was such a nice guy. It was a shame he was so—well, so geeky-looking.
I studied him as he sat watching television with Mark. Gary's clothes were okay, although he would never be the fashion plate that Steve was. Getting his contacts and losing those glasses would be a big improvement, too. Still, there was one other thing that might make a difference—exactly how much of a difference I wasn't sure, but it was worth a shot.
“Gary,” I said impulsively, “have you ever thought about getting a really good haircut?”
The following Monday I called Hair Designs to make an appointment for Gary with Ellen, my favorite stylist. After I explained Gary's problem and told Ellen what I had in mind, I made the appointment for Saturday morning. It was a long time to wait, but I had my reasons for scheduling it so far in advance. Gary was supposed to get his contacts Friday afternoon, and I wanted him to show up at school the following Monday with a whole new look.
The week seemed to drag by, but at long last Saturday arrived. To my dismay, when Gary picked me up at a quarter of ten, he was still wearing his glasses.
Frowning at him as I climbed into his second-hand Toyota, I asked, “What happened to your contacts? Weren’t they ready yesterday, or have you vaporized them already?”
“I have them right here,” Gary said, patting the breast pocket of his shirt. “It’s a new prescription, and I’m not used to it yet. I thought I’d put them in later. Where is this place we’re going to, anyway?”
I gave him directions, and soon we were walking into Hair Designs. The bell over the door jangled merrily as we entered the shop, and Ellen came out of the back room to greet us.
“Hi, Ellen,” I said loudly over the rock music that was blaring in the waiting room. “This is Gary Hadley, the one I told you about on the phone.”
She studied his shaggy mop critically. “Hmmm. I see what you mean,” Ellen said. “How much do you want taken off?”
“Just a trim…” Gary began.
“About three inches,” I told her.
“Three inches?” Gary echoed in horror. “I won’t have any hair left!”
“Yes, you will,” Ellen assured him. “Just not as much.”
“But I like my hair,” he protested.
I patted his arm. “I do, too, Gary. It's very nice hair, and I’m sure it would have been very fashionable back in the seventies. But these are the nineties. Besides, if you don’t like it, you can always let it grow back.”
“But—but…”
He kept on “butting” as Ellen led him gently but firmly into the salon. Now there was nothing left for me to do but wait.
I expected to hear a wail of anguish as soon as the hair started to fall, but the music drowned out any sound from the back. I glanced at a couple of magazines, but none of them held my attention for very long, so I started pacing up and down like an expectant father awaiting the birth of his first child.
My nervousness grew with every passing minute. What if I’d made a terrible mistake? What if Gary had really awful ears that would be better covered up? What if...?
“Well, I hope you’re satisfied,” said a gloomy voice from the doorway to the salon.
I was almost afraid to look. If this whole thing was a disaster, I'd never forgive myself. Taking a deep breath, I turned around very slowly.
There in the doorway stood a very tall, slender boy with reddish-brown hair cropped short on the top and sides, but left long enough in the back to touch his shirt collar. Long, thick lashes framed a pair of eyes almost the same color as his hair, and at the moment those eyes were filled with uncertainty.
I opened my
mouth to speak, but I couldn't make a sound. Although I’d hoped for some slight improvement, never in my wildest dreams had I imagined that inside sweet, clumsy Gary was a gorgeous hunk just waiting to be set free!
“Molly, don’t look at me like that,” he begged. “Say something!”
“Oh, Gary,” I breathed, finding my voice at last. “You look—you look…”
“Like a plucked chicken, right?” he finished for me, nervously rubbing his newly shorn head.
“No!” I exclaimed. “You look fantastic, absolutely fantastic!”
Gary blinked. “Are you kidding?”
Still a little dazed, I shook my head. “Believe me, I've never been more serious in my life.”
With a tentative smile he said, “Well, I feel like a plucked chicken. Are you sure I don’t look weird?”
“No, Gary, you do not look weird. Just wait till Colette gets a load of the new, improved Gary Hadley on Monday morning!” I said as we headed for the door. “She’ll never know what hit her!”
As Gary started out the door, his head bumped the bell hanging over it, making it jangle wildly. “Oops—sorry about that,” he muttered just before he stumbled over the threshold and almost fell.
I couldn't help smiling as I followed him to his car. The “new” Gary Hadley might be a hunk, but there was still a lot of the old Gary Hadley left, and for some reason, I was very glad.
CHAPTER SIX
My family's reactions to Gary’s transformation were all that I could have wished for. Since Mom was in the front yard, planting begonias in her beloved flower beds, she was the first to see him.
“Hi, Mom,” I called as I hopped out of Gary’s car.
She glanced up at me and smiled. “Oh, hello, dear.”
Gary got out, too, and strolled over to her. “Hi, Mrs. McKenzie,” he said.
Mom stared at him for a moment. “Gary?” Her trowel slipped out of her hand and fell to the ground. “Is that really you? Good heavens! I didn’t even recognize you!”
“Doesn’t he look terrific?” I said proudly. “Say, Mom, is Mark inside?”
“He's helping your dad fix the car,” Mom replied, still staring at Gary. “They’re both in the garage.”
She was only half right. Dad was in the garage, working on the car, but Mark was nowhere in sight, which wasn’t really surprising. Whenever there’s work to be done, my brother has a habit of disappearing.
“Hi, Dad. Where’s Mark?” I asked.
“He’s in the house,” Dad answered from under the hood. “If you're going inside, will you please send him out here pronto? I sent him in for paper towels, and he seems to have gotten lost.”
“Okay, Dad. Come on in, Gary.”
“Gary?” Dad looked up from the engine, an amazed expression on his face. “Gary Hadley? The same Gary who backed his car over my lawn mower last week?”
“Uh, yes, sir. I’m afraid so,” Gary mumbled apologetically.
“Well, you sure don’t look the same,” Dad said, scratching his head. “Don’t let it bother you,” he added, ducking back under the hood. “The lawn mower Incident, I mean. Mark never should have left it in the drive-way in the first place.”
At that moment the door opened, and Mark entered the garage with a roll of paper towels. “I never should have left—what in the—” He stopped short at the sight of Gary, then slowly circled the spot where we stood, studying Gary from all angles. At last he let out a long, low whistle. “I gotta hand it to you, Moll,” he said. “You did perform a miracle! I never knew you had it in you.”
I grinned. “Actually, it was Ellen at Hair Designs who did it. Everybody's in for a big surprise on Monday.”
“Especially Eddie and Steve,” Mark chortled. “Are they in for a nasty shock! I feel twenty dollars richer already!”
If my own family's reactions were anything to judge by, Gary's new look would be the talk of Carson High School. I could hardly wait until the weekend was over!
As soon as I got to school on Monday morning, I hurried down the crowded corridor in the direction of Gary's locker, eager to see the effect he was having on the other kids. I found him there, all right, surrounded by a group of wide-eyed girls. A bevy of sophomores gazed adoringly up at him while several flirtatious juniors were giggling at something Gary had just said. One of them reached up and ruffled his reddish-brown hair.
Rather than approaching him, I hung back. I knew I should be pleased at Gary's success, but something about the sight of him with all those girls gave me a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t that I was jealous of the attention he was getting—of course not! He certainly deserved it, especially after the way most of the kids at Carson, including me, had either ignored him or made fun of him for the past two and a half years.
At that moment Gary looked up and spotted me standing by the water fountain. From the expression on his face, I could tell that he was far from enjoying his new popularity. When his eyes met mine, they were filled with such relief that it was almost comical.
“Molly! Am I glad to see you!” he exclaimed. He grabbed a maroon and white baseball cap from his locker and jammed it down on his head, concealing his trendy new haircut. Then he pushed his way through the crowd of girls to my side.
“What’s with the hat?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
“I had to put it on in self-defense,” he explained. “I’m telling you, Molly, this place is a jungle!”
“You're darned right, it's a jungle,” I said i with a grin, “and you're going on safari.” I snatched the bill of the offending cap and twitched it off. “Now, put that thing back in your locker and quit hiding under it!”
“Well, okay,” Gary said reluctantly. “If you say so. But I…”
His voice trailed off, and his eyes seemed to glaze over as he stared past me down the hall. I didn't have to turn around to know who he was looking at.
“H-hi, Colette,” Gary stammered as she approached.
Colette threw him a brief glance. She was about to pass him by, when her huge, dark eyes widened in surprise. I'd never seen anyone do a double take before, but that's what Colette did. She stared at Gary for a moment, then flashed him a dazzling smile.
“It's Gary, isn't it?” she purred. “Gary Hadley?”
“Uh—yeah,” he said, gazing down at her with a dopey grin on his face.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. True, I was supposed to be grooming Gary for a date with Colette, but in spite of the contacts and the haircut, it had never crossed my mind that she might actually find him attractive. But there she stood, smiling up at him with an unmistakable “come hither” look.
Everything is working out beautifully, I told myself as I watched them walk down the hall together. Gary will have his dream girl, and Mark will win his twenty dollars.
So where did that leave me?
I didn't see Gary again until lunchtime, when he had promised to meet me in the cafeteria and give me a progress report. But as he carried his tray past Colette’s table on his way to mine, she called to him, then pulled out the vacant chair beside her and patted it invitingly. Gary cast one nervous glance in my direction, then promptly forgot all about me as he sat down beside Colette. She was at her flirtatious best, laughing and tossing her dark brown curls, and Gary was smiling at her dreamily as if she were the only girl in the world.
“Earth to Molly McKenzie! Earth to Molly McKenzie!” Jan called to me from the other side of our table. “I've asked you three times how you did on your algebra test, and I'm still waiting for an answer!”
“Oh—sorry,” I mumbled, tearing my eyes away from Colette and Gary. “I guess I wasn’t listening.”
“You sure weren't,” she said, grinning. “You were too busy staring at Gary Hadley. And who can blame you? What a fox! Molly, you asked me once if I would go out with Gary, and I said no. Is it too late to change my mind?”
“You're just like all the other girls in this school!” I snapped irritably. “Where wer
e you last week, before he had a haircut, and when he was still wearing those hideous glasses? You're all so—so shallow!”
“Well, excuse me for living!” Jan said, taken aback. “What's your problem?”
“Honestly, Jan, can’t you see what's happened?” Beth scolded gently. “Molly’s fallen in love with the new Gary Hadley.”
“I have not!” I cried. “It just makes me furious to see Colette Carroll falling all over him, when just last Friday she wouldn't give him the time of day. Can't he see that she's interested only in his looks? She doesn't care about the real Gary at all! Oh, why do boys have to be so stupid?”
“Because if they were any smarter, they'd be girls,” Jan replied smugly. “You know, Beth,” she added, “I think you’re right. It sure looks like love to me.”
“And I think you're both crazy!” I said, blushing to the roots of my hair.
I stormed out of the cafeteria without eating a bite and headed for the girls' room to splash cold water on my burning cheeks. When I came in, I found two girls I slightly knew touching up their makeup before the big mirror over the sinks. Neither of them paid the least bit of attention to me.
“I’ve got a class with Gary Hadley next period,” Ashley told Laurel as she ran a comb through her short brown hair. “Have you seen him today? Boy, what a difference!”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you,” Laurel warned her friend. “Colette’s already gotten her hooks into him.”
“Just my luck,” Ashley sighed.
“Give me a break!” I muttered, and both girls’ eyebrows shot up in surprise. Giving them a dirty look, I turned on my heel and left the room.
Don't Bet On Love Page 4