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All through eighth grade Amanda Whitmore lived a life filled with sports and two close friends. The only reason anyone knew her name was because she was on the boy's baseball team, a killer pitcher, and had a mean bat. When ninth grade starts everything's changed. She's taller than all the boys, looks way too much like her fashion mother for her own liking, and is getting attention she doesn't want from the popular girls in school. Why can't things ever stay the same? To make things worse, she is embarrassed by her"perfect" parents, with their gorgeous new home andsnazzy careers. Above All, Have Fun! is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ISBN 1-58124-300-6
Electronic version
ABOVE ALL, HAVE FUN! By Joëlle Anthony
Chapter One Tick. Tick. Tick. I squirmed in my seat. The hand on the clock jumped. Three o'clock straight up. Why didn't the bell ring? The game was almost over! If school didn't let out right now then I'd miss the end of the Chicago Cubs game. I really wanted to see them beat the Braves so I could give Brendan a bad time. He's always picking on me when we lose. There are a lot of Chicago Cubs fans here in Oregon because we get them on cable, but nobody is a diehard fan like me. In fact, I'm planning on being the first female pitcher they have on the team. Of course, I'm not ready yet, but neither are the Cubs. I figure by the time I put in one more year here at Maywood Junior High, and three years in high school, and then some college ball, I ought to be ready. What was up with this clock? Finally the big hand jumped backwards the way only a school clock can, then forwards, and then the bell shrieked for freedom. I pushed my way through a knot of girls into the dim hallway, burst around the corner and smashed into Debbie Mayers as she stepped out of her Spanish class. At least, I assumed it was Spanish, since her Spanish book flew across the hall. My books flew out of my arms too and when I bent over to pick them up my dress slipped off my shoulder and exposed my bra strap to the world. How embarrassing. I picked up my books with one hand and I clutched the front of my dress with the other so I wouldn't give anyone an eyeful. Stupid dress. "Go Braves!" shouted Brendan. He handed me my Chicago Cubbies folder. I flushed and turned to Debbie, but all I got from her was an icy stare. "Sorry," I mumbled. "You should be sorry," Debbie called after me as I hurried down the crowded hall. I looked back over my shoulder just in time to see Debbie link her arm through Brendan's. I felt my heart lurch. I didn't know they were going out. Beauty and the Beast. Not that I really cared. Brendan's cool, but that's it. We're both on the school baseball team. Besides pitching I also play right field. He plays third base. He's practically the only guy who didn't have a fit when I made the team. But these days the law's on my side and I get to play even if I am a girl. I had to spin my locker combination three times before I finally got it open. Why does everything have to be so difficult on the first day of school? Like this dress, for example. It looked like a perfectly good dress hanging on the rack at the mall. As far as dresses go. When I tried it on it looked okay. So I'd bought it. But naturally, as soon as I started walking around in it I discovered the scooped neck lets the shoulders slide down. I'd been struggling with it all day. Not that I wanted a stupid dress anyway. It was part of a bargain. I'd agreed to wear a dress on the first day of school and my mom bought me the official Chicago Cubs sweatshirt I'd had my eye on for ages. It had seemed like a fair trade at the time. I stuffed practically every text book I had into my backpack. Homework the first day! What a surprise. "Hey, Amanda," Susan said, poking me in the ribs. Naturally I jumped, and as usual she thought that was pretty funny. "Hi, Susan." "I was thinking of walking over to the high school instead of taking the bus home. You know, just hang around a few minutes and watch the football team practice. Want to go with me?" Susan's boyfriend, Jimmy, is on the football team. He's even weirder than she is. In fact, he's one of the reasons she's been so strange lately. She used to be pretty normal, but ever since last year when they started going out she's been getting super strange. She wears black all the time for one thing. And this summer she let Jimmy bleach orange streaks in her black hair. It looks horrible, but she left it that way anyway. Today she has it in braids like when we were in second grade. "No thanks, I've got to get home," I said, grabbing my bike helmet out of my locker and slamming the door. "Why? Waiting for Blessing to call?" "Yeah, I guess." I tried to sound casual, but Susan was too smart for me. "Oh, don't tell me there's a game on?" Susan hates baseball. She gives me a really hard time about being obsessed with it. And then she teases me that I only watch it because the players are cute. Sometimes she makes me crazy. "I just want to see if Blessing called. That's all." "Whatever you say. How come she wasn't here today, anyway?" she asked as we stepped out into the bright September sunshine. What a gorgeous day. Life's so unfair. We shouldn't have to go to school on such a beautiful day. Especially since there aren't that many great days in an Oregon summer anyway! "I don't know. She never misses the first day of school," I said, my mind more on Blessing than Susan. "Remember that one year when Blessing's plane got in three hours before school started and she came anyway?" "Yeah, and she fell asleep at the lunch table." We laughed remembering Blessing with her head down on the table, using her tuna sandwich as a pillow. "So what's the time difference between Oregon and England anyway," asked Susan. "Ten or twelve hours?" "Eight." "Well, that's still a lot. She's probably just sleeping it off." "I hope so." I hate it when she goes away every summer. I have Susan to hang out with, but it's not the same. No one's the same as Blessing. I unlocked my bike and swung my leg over gingerly, gathering my skirt into a wad so it wouldn't catch in the sprocket. "Why'd you ride your bike in a dress?" asked Susan. "Because I was too late to walk and my mom had already left for the agency." I have trouble getting up in the morning. I always mean to be on time, but somehow it just never works out that way. Today wasn't any different except that last night I'd been too nervous to sleep very well, so I was extra tired this morning. I should have gone back and changed when I discovered Mom was gone already. After all, I'll be home from school before she gets home from work. She never would've known if I wore the stupid dress or not. "Well, good luck," said Susan, heading for the row of busses. "I thought you were walking over to the high school." "I changed my mind. I'd rather get home and have the room all to myself for an hour. I'm almost done with this great romance I'm reading." Susan lives with her dad and sister in a really small apartment. She's always complaining because she has to share a room with Tracie. Tracie seems nice enough to me, but Susan says she's a real pain. Still, I think it would be nice to have a sister. Sometimes it's lonely being an only child. I watched Susan try to maneuver the bus steps in her mini skirt and high heels. The shoes were probably the real reason she decided not to walk home. "Hey, Amanda?" she said, lowering the bus window. "Come here." I wheeled the bike carefully over towards the bus. Susan leaned her head way out. "You look like a little girl in that long dress. You should wear a mini skirt instead." "Oh, yeah, I'd really be able to ride in a mini skirt." "Brendan would notice your legs for sure then!" I looked around furiously. How dare she? She makes me so mad. Susan's got this stupid idea that I like Brendan. Which I don't. Besides, the last thing I want are guys noticing my legs. It's bad enough that I'm taller than all the boys in my class without drawing attention to my stupid legs. I swung the bike around angrily. I could hear Susan laughing at me as the bus pulled away. Suddenly I felt a tug on the skirt and I realized the material was being eaten by the bicycle. Oh, great! As I leaned over to try and free the hem of my dress from the sprocket, my backpack slid to one side and the weight of all those books made me lose my balance. I grabbed at the bike desperately, but it slipped out from underneath me pulling me down and I hit the cement with a hard thud. I felt my face flush bright red.
Susan's lumbering bus pulled away in slow motion and from the ground I saw her laughing face framed in the window. I tried desperately to melt into the hot pavement, but before it could swallow me up, I saw something worse. Something much, much worse. Chapter Two "Are you okay?" Brendan asked me. "She's fine," answered Debbie. "Come on or we'll miss our bus." "I'm okay," I muttered. "Wait a sec, Deb." He leaned down and pulled my backpack off. "Here, let me help you." He tried to lift the bike off of me, but it was attached to my skirt. "That's okay, really, I'm fine." My dress was slipping off my shoulder again too. "Come on!" ordered Debbie. "She'll figure it out. Won't you, Grace?" She gave me her wickedest smile. "Yeah, I'm fine," I muttered again. "Are you sure?" "Yeah, no problem. I've got it taken care of. I'm fine! I'm fine! I'm fine! Just go away! is what I really wanted to scream at him. Instead I just said, "Really, it's okay." "Well, if you're sure..." "Fine! Stay here with Grace." Debbie stormed away. "Go. Don't miss your bus." "Well, okay." He ran after his bus and pounded on the door just as the yellow monster started to pull away. The brakes squealed and the door swung open. As their bus rolled past me I felt a million eyes staring out at me. And then I heard her voice, loud and mean as usual. "Hey, Grace!" Debbie yelled through the open window, "Maybe you should be Maywood Junior High homecoming princess." I really can't stand her! If it's physically possible, I blushed even deeper. "So funny I forgot to laugh," I muttered to myself. If she was going to act like a first grader, so was I. By the time I untangled myself the courtyard was empty. I rode home trying to keep the material out of the spokes with one hand and steering around parked cars with the other. I'm not the only clumsy person in the school, I tried to convince myself. Today I saw a seventh grader fall going up the stairs. Down, I can understand. But up? I didn't laugh at her. In fact, I helped her pick up her stuff. Even if she was only a seventh grader. So why did Debbie have to be so mean about it? People are so rude. I really couldn't see what was so funny. I couldn't think of a single funny thing about the whole stupid situation. Except maybe me being homecoming princess. Now that was funny! The whole homecoming princess thing is a big joke to me. I simply don't get what princesses have to do with football. Besides, why would anyone want to dress up in a long white dress and walk around at half time on a muddy football field? Football is a different story. I love the game. The bone crunching tackles, the mud, the yelling and screaming fans. If I wasn't so into soccer, I'd probably go out for football. Wouldn't that make those guys mad? But I'm not that interested in getting creamed. Besides, Blessing plays soccer with me. Only she calls it football because she's British. I turned down our long narrow street and wondered how many more times I'd get to enjoy this ride. I love our street and not just because I've lived here my whole life. I really like it because you can watch all the seasons go by right in front of you. Like now. The afternoon sun peeked through the golden leaves on the walnut trees lining the sidewalk. And in winter the rain pours down in sheets and the wind rips at the trees until you think they're going to be pulled up by their roots. In the spring the Dogwoods bloom all pink and white and the daffodils pop up everywhere. I like the summer best because you can hear all the kids screaming and laughing as they run though icy sprinklers. The cats lie around the neighborhood soaking up the sun. It sounds almost too good to be true. Like one of those stories from the fifties or something. And I guess it is too good to be true for me because my mother is thrusting us into the modern world of huge houses built on hills where all the trees have been cut down and all the carpets are white wall to wall. It isn't that I hate the idea of the new house. In fact, I sort of like it. I go up there with Mom and Dad a couple of times a week and check out the progress the builders are making. But still, I know I'll miss this neighborhood. At least I won't have to change schools. It's actually closer to the school. We were supposed to move in before Labor Day but now it looks like it could be a month or longer. It doesn't break my heart, but my mom's plenty mad. It's practically all she talks about. That and her stupid modeling agency. I put the pedal to the metal. I had to get home before my mother. I flew up the driveway and across the lawn. No time to put my bike away. I had to change before she saw me or I'd be dead meat. Braking with one hand didn't work too well and I hit the bottom step just as my dad came down them with a manila envelope and his car keys. I almost took him out, but he jumped out of the way just in time. He's still pretty quick for an old guy. "Hey, watch it, crazy lady!" he said laughing. "Sorry, I've got to change before Mom gets home." "Too late. She's in the kitchen." "What do you mean? What's she doing here so early? Where's her car?" I felt panic rise up from my toes. "It's in the garage. We're going to a benefit tonight so she's home early." I stood there for a second next to my bike wondering what I should do? That's when Dad finally noticed my new dress. "What happened to you?" "My bike attacked me." If I was going to make it into my room without my mother catching me I needed Dad's help. "Go divert Mom while I make a run for it." "Can't do it. I've got to get this down to the post office." He unlocked his car door and got in. "Good luck." "It's called a fax machine, Dad. You don't have to snail mail your column in anymore." "I know, I know. But—" "But you'd never get out of the house if you had a fax machine," I finished for him. Dad drove away laughing and I crept cautiously up the steps. I opened the door quietly. I heard the pantry door's familiar creak, so I knew she was still in the kitchen. I peeked around the entry hall and into the dining room. She had her back to me so I made a run for it down the hall in the opposite direction. "Amanda? Is that you?" "Yeah, it's me," I yelled from my bedroom. I didn't dare shut the door all the way. I knew if she couldn't hear me very well she'd come down to my room. "How was your day?" "Oh, just fine," I lied. I twisted around trying to get a hold of the zipper. Sure it falls off my shoulders, but it's too tight to just slip over my head. It's because of my stupid chest. Another area of my anatomy I'd like to forget all about. "Did everyone like your new dress?" "No one really noticed it, Mom. Everyone wore new clothes." Finally I got a hold of the zipper and tried to unzip it, but it was one of those really awkward ones that aren't too hard to zip up, but are really difficult to get down. "I ran into Mrs. Collins at the gym this morning." So that's where she'd been when I got up this morning. Figures. She's obsessive about her workout. She even designed a weight room to be built in the new house. "Really?" I tried to sound curious while I struggled with the dress. I finally got it unzipped but it seemed to be caught at the top. "She told me she's in charge of the ninth grade homecoming selection." "Huh." I yanked on the top and the hook and eye rocketed across the room. Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. Oh, well. The dress was ruined anyway. Finally I got out of the stupid thing. "What are you doing in there, Amanda?" "Nothing. Just changing my clothes." I pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. "Don't change yet, I want to see you in your new dress." I heard Mom's footsteps coming down the hall. I looked around for a place to hide the dress. Why did Mom have to make me clean my room yesterday of all days? There weren't any good hiding places anymore. Desperately I shoved the dress under my bedspread just as she opened the door.
"Too late," I said cheerfully, collapsing down onto my lumpy bed like I didn't have a care in the world. Chapter Three By Friday evening there was still no word from Blessing and my stomach was in a constant state of churning. I couldn't eat, I'd hardly slept on Thursday night, and Susan constantly telling me to calm down all day had only made my nerves worse. What had happened to Blessing? Where could she be? Her plane should have arrived on Monday. Labor Day. Four days ago. The day before school started. She should have been home by now. I'd left so many messages on her machine it was full now and I couldn't leave any more. But still nothing. I'd even ridden up the steep hill to her house and nosed around but it looked like it had all summer. Empty. Sometimes when Blessing's gone in the summer I ride my bike up there just to check things out. I tell myself I'm just trying to stay in shape for soccer, but really I guess I'm lonely for her. "Amanda, don't frown like that," my mother reminded me. "You don't want to age prematurely." I shoved a frozen dinner in the microwave and tried to ignore her beauty tip. "Some of us aren't as obsessed with wrinkles as you are." "Well, you try and run a modeling agency with lines all over your face. People won't take you very seriously." "I don't plan on running a modeling agency." "Don't be such a smart mouth. I'm just looking out for your best interest." I tried to relax my face a little. "Did you think about what I said the other day?" Mom asked. "When?" "About homecoming." Oh, God. I thought she'd given that up. She wants me to run for homecoming princess. I'd tried to explain to her that you can't run for it like class president or something. Everyone just votes for their favorite popular girl and the top five get to do a stupid pep assembly and then someone gets voted princess. "Mom, I'm not going out for Homecoming Princess." She wasn't listening though. She had her own agenda. "Mrs. Collins told me during our workout that she thought that if you wore a dress for a few days and maybe let your hair out of that silly braid people might notice you and you might get nominated." I found that very hard to believe. Mrs. Collins is the P.E. teacher and the cheer leading coach. I know she expects Debbie to win. So do I. So does everyone. Mrs. Collins must have been trying to make Mom feel better about me. "Mrs. Collins said that?" I demanded. "Well, not exactly," Mom admitted. "I did ask her if she thought it was possible for you to get nominated if you did those things." "Oh, Mom! How embarrassing." Mom looked at me funny like she couldn't understand what was wrong with me and went off to change for the gala event. Mom and Dad are always going to some benefit or fashion show or something. This was the second big night out this week. Sometimes I go, but usually they're boring. This time my Dad won some dumb sports writing award that he's won three years in a row. Dad writes and Mom used to be really famous. Well, not famous, exactly, but she was on the cover of Vogue. Now she owns her own agency and only does local modeling jobs. She still flies off to New York to see shows and stuff, but she doesn't model too much. I know she has high hopes for me, but she can just forget it. Standing around having people take pictures of me seems like the stupidest thing I can imagine doing for a living. "Are you sure you don't want to go with us?" asked my Dad. He looked really good in his tuxedo. "Homework," I mumbled. The last thing I wanted to do was go to some writer's award night with my parents. "Homework on Friday night?" "What can I say?" I asked trying to work up a smile. "I'm a model student." Dad just snorted and went off to hurry Mom up. It wasn't school work that kept me at home though. Or the fact that their night would probably be really boring. It was Blessing. There was no way I was going to miss her call. Finally they left me alone and I sat down to eat my dinner. Microwave enchiladas. I'd only cooked them because my mom made me. I sat there at the table pushing them around with my fork. When the phone finally rang I pounced on it before the first ring had even finished. "Hello!" I said too loudly. "Hey, it didn't even ring." "Oh. Hi, Susan." "Well, don't sound so excited to hear from me." "Sorry. I was just hoping to hear from Blessing." "That's why I called. I guess you haven't heard anything yet?" "Nope. I've got to go though. I want to keep the line clear." "You've got call waiting." "Still..." "Yeah, okay. Whatever." Susan hung up on me. I didn't really care though. I just wanted to hear from Blessing. The phone rang again before I had even taken my hand off of it. "Hello!" "Hey, it's me again." "Hi, Susan." Couldn't she take a hint? "When you talk to Blessing, don't tell her about my hair. I want to surprise her." "Okay." "Promise?" "Yeah, I promise." She hung up again without saying goodbye, but I was just glad to get her off the line. Usually it makes me mad when she does that. It's pretty rude. Leaving my dinner on the kitchen table I went to my room and got my copy of Great Expectations. Even though I didn't think I could concentrate, I thought I should at least make the effort. We're reading it in English and I didn't want to get behind. Besides there wasn't anything on television. In the living room I made a little nest out of some cushions and an afghan on the couch and tried to relax. I read three or four pages before I realized that I hadn't taken in a word of it. Ninth grade wasn't getting off to a very good start. Even if Blessing showed up right now and was fine, everything else was pretty screwy. For one thing there was the house thing. The builders promised we'd be able to move in in four weeks. Only four more weeks to go. I still had mixed feelings about it. I didn't want to admit it, but I kind of felt chicken about being all alone in that big house when my parents go out to all their parties. This house isn't so bad. I'm used to it after all these years. Even though it's sort of big, it's a ranch style so I don't hear weird noises from upstairs or anything like I might in the new house. And Mom had already told me there was no way she was going to let me put up all my sports posters in my new bedroom. Not even if I used tape instead of tacks. Also there's a walk-in closet which sort of freaks me out. I mean, anybody could hide in there. I guess I'll just have to throw my clothes all over the floor like I do now and stay out of there! I know it seems pretty weird to be so scared when I'm fourteen-years-old. But I can't help it. It's not like I think someone's going to get me or anything. In fact, I don't even know what it is. Maybe I'm just high strung. I heard my mother say that to a friend about me once when I was little. Maybe she's right. But worse than the new house, and not as bad as not knowing about Blessing, was Debbie and her friends. They hadn't left me alone all week. Debbie has taken to calling me Grace and now some of the other kids are calling me that too. I ignore her but I don't like it. Susan wants to kick her butt for me, but I won't let her. Maybe I should. Maybe I will. I started over with Great Expectations. I'd just gotten to the part where the convict grabs poor Pip and threatens him when I heard a car pull into the driveway. It was only nine o'clock. Way too early for my parents. And I hadn't ordered a pizza or anything. My heart raced. Who was out there? Maybe it was someone going to the neighbor's. No, I heard someone coming up the steps. The doorbell rang and I tried to decide what to do. I crept up to the front door so that whoever was there wouldn't hear me, figuring that if I didn't know them I could pretend no one was home. I peeked through the peep hole, let out a little scream and quickly unlocked the door and threw it open. "Where have you been? I've been worried sick!" I sounded just like my mother but I didn't care.
"It's a horrendously long story. You don't want to hear it," said Blessing, throwing her arms around me and giving me a big hug. Chapter Four A half an hour later Blessing and I headed down the hall for my bedroom with a big bowl of popcorn and some drinks. I was drinking juice, but Blessing was having tea. Yuck. She's the only teenager I know who drinks tea. She puts milk in it too. She says lots of kids drink tea in England. Weird country, if you ask me. "Amanda! What happened to your room? It looks like a band of housekeepers attacked it." "My mother threatened to clean it if I didn't, so I caved. That's how I spent my last day of summer vacation." "Better than how I spent mine," said Blessing, sinking onto the bed. The reason Blessing didn't get home on Monday was because of a bomb threat in London that had virtually shut down the city for an entire day. She couldn't even get to the airport because so many streets were blocked off. And after that, all the planes were so overbooked it took two more days to get a flight to Chicago. In Chicago they had to try and rebook their flight to Portland because of being three days late. They couldn't get a flight until this afternoon. What a nightmare. What I find strange about the bomb threats is that Blessing's used to them. They happen a lot in England during the summer and especially at Christmas. I would be scared if there was a bomb threat here, but Blessing says most of the people there are just inconvenienced. "You look the same," I said, studying her for changes. "I hope I don't usually look this tired." "You know what I mean," I said laughing. She did look the same though. Same soft, strawberry-blonde curly hair, same pale skin and blue eyes, same wonderful smile that I'd missed so much. "Well, you look a lot different," she said. "I can't believe how much you've changed." "I haven't changed that much." "You have to!" "I'm just taller." "You look a lot more like your mum now." I rolled my eyes at Blessing. The last thing I want to do is look more like my mom. The more I look like her the harder she'll try to turn me into a model. I guess it's true that Mom and I look alike. We have the same long, thick, blonde hair and the same greenish eyes. She's a lot more curvy than I am, but unfortunately I seem to be headed that direction, like it or not. In books girls are always wanting to grow breasts and start their period and stuff. Let me tell you, it's entirely overrated. Even though there are cool things about being a girl, I'd still rather play professional baseball. "Blessing," I said, acting as serious as I could, "I'm a little disappointed in you." "Why?" she sounded worried. "Because you've been here for almost an hour and you still haven't given me any presies!" "Oh, my God! You're right. I totally forgot!" Blessing opened up her suitcase and started digging through it. She'd come to see me straight from the airport and had brought her luggage in with her rather than trying to find what she needed to stay the night. Underneath a bunch of clothes she found a white plastic shopping bag. "Here you are, love. I'm sorry." She handed me the bag. I opened it slowly full of anticipation. Presies is British slang for presents. Blessing always brings me the most delicious stuff from England. Usually candy which she calls sweets. And lots of weird flavored potato chips which she calls crisps. I dumped all the treats on the bed and started digging through them, trying to remember from last year which ones were my favorites. They all looked good. Someday I'm going to go to England with Blessing and I'll probably come back really fat because all I'm going to do over there is eat. "I got you this too," said Blessing, handing me a small foil wrapped package. "You got it!" I dropped the crisps and tore the wrapping off the book. "That's his latest one," said Blessing. "I already read it, it's great." "Don't say another word. I can hardly wait." I had a big collection of John Rowe Townsend books already, but this one I'd never even heard of. Not all of his books get published over here, but Blessing always tries to get me the new ones. She loves his stuff too. "Tell me everything that happened while I was gone." "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was the most boring summer of my life." "You say that every year." "It's true." "Every summer of your life can't be totally boring," said Blessing. "What about Susan? She must have done something interesting." "Only her hair." "What'd she do to her hair?" "Oh, yeah, I'm not supposed to tell you." "Why not?" "It's going to be some big surprise." "Just tell me." "No way." I would have told her, but if Susan found out she would have made a big deal out of it, so I tried to change the subject instead. "How are your grandmothers?" "The same. Gran Ainsley was as sweet as usual and Grandmother White spent the entire summer trying to convince Mum to move us back to England and put me in a proper school." "But you're not going to go back, right?" I demanded. I swear my biggest fear is that some day Mrs. White will move back to England with Blessing and I'll be left here all alone. "Actually, for a while I was a bit worried. Mum seemed rather interested in the schools there. But in the end she remembered what an interference Grandmother White can be and I lucked out." Blessing sounds so grown up when she talks. It's that British accent of hers. It's always really strong when she first comes back but it fades away by Christmas. She still calls me love and darling a lot though, even after she starts sounding American again. I think it's cool. "Besides," I said, more to reassure myself than to reassure Blessing, "your Dad's here. You need to be around your Dad." "Not that I ever see him. But I guess California is a lot closer to Oregon than England." Blessing's Dad lives in Los Angeles. It started out as business trips a few years ago. Pretty soon he had an apartment there. We think he has a girlfriend now, only Blessing calls her a mistress. Mrs. White never talks about it so Blessing isn't really sure what's going on. Now it was Blessing's turn to change the subject. "How's school?" "Oh, God. School." Since Blessing had walked through the front door I'd actually forgotten about how horrible and embarrassing school was all week. Now I had to tell Blessing all about it. "Brendan's really going out with Debbie?" she asked when I'd finished telling her the gory details. "I guess so." "That's too bad. I was sure that this was the year he'd notice you." "You and Susan have got to give up the idea of me and Brendan." "Why? You two would make such a cute couple." "Except that I'm not interested." "He's gorgeous. That dark hair, those brown eyes... He's got a lot to offer a girl." "The only thing I'm interested in from Brendan is whether or not he gets the runner out at third so I don't have to worry about my earned run average." Blessing laughed. And then I started laughing too. Once we started we couldn't stop. It felt so good to laugh with her that I didn't want to stop. Not ever. We laughed and laughed until we were both lying on our backs laughing so hard tears were streaming down our faces. I guess we were laughing at the crazy week we'd both had. I mean, neither of us had said anything very funny. We were still laughing when my Dad's voice boomed through the bedroom door. "That better be Blessing in there with you and not some boy!"
We hadn't even heard my parents come home and Dad scared us so bad we jumped about a mile. Blessing's empty tea cup rolled off the bed onto the floor and we laughed like that was the funniest thing we'd ever seen in our lives. Chapter Five I tried to straighten the mirror without ripping the paper. It was almost perfect but not quite. How irritating. But unless I wanted to start over I was stuck with it. Oh, well. I had lined the inside of my locker with leftover Chicago Cub wrapping paper from my last birthday. Then I'd stuck up a couple of photos of me and Blessing and one with Susan too, mostly so she wouldn't feel left out. Finally I'd hung a mirror so I could make sure I didn't have food in my teeth after lunch. It looked pretty good in spite of the mirror being crooked. By the end of the year the locker would be perfect anyway. I'd have all kinds of comic strips and articles and stuff like that. It would be cool. I was so absorbed in what I was doing that I didn't even notice Brendan come up behind me. When he said hi I jumped. I always do that. It's so embarrassing, but I guess I'm one of those people that scare easily. "Are you okay?" he asked me. "Sure. I'm fine. I just didn't know you were behind me, that's all." I felt my cheeks starting to burn. "No, I mean are you okay after your fall the other day?" "Of course I am. I'm tougher than you when it comes to sliding," I said. "Yeah, right." He grinned at me. "Except I try not to slide on the pavement." Maybe Blessing is right. He is pretty cute. But I still don't care. I guess I must have stared at him or something because suddenly we were standing there totally awkward. Brendan and I always give each other a hard time during baseball season, but the rest of the year we hardly say a word to each other. Neither of us said anything for a second then Brendan started teasing me about the Cubs. "Wow, you must be a big Cubs fan," he said, noticing my locker. "Too bad they're gonna lose!" "Lose to who? Your Braves?" "You bet!" "At least I'm proud enough to wear the sweatshirt." "That was a cool sweatshirt you wore last week, even if it did have the Cubs logo on it." "The sweatshirt was a bribe from my mother. I wore that stupid dress on the first day of school and she bought me the sweatshirt." "Well, if you ever decide you're not a Cubs fan, you can give it to me." "You'd wear a Cubs sweatshirt?" "No, I'd burn it." "You can have the dress instead." Brendan laughed. Just then Blessing showed up for lunch. "Hey, Brendan," she said. "Hi, Blessing." He looked at me, "Well, I better go. Lunch time." "If looks could kill I'd be hauling you away to the morgue right now," whispered Blessing as he walked away. "Why?" Blessing nodded over my shoulder. I looked and saw Debbie waiting for Brendan like a spider waiting for a fly. As soon as he got close to her she grabbed his hand possessively and marched him down the hall away from the lunch crowd. No doubt she wanted to quiz him on why he was talking to a lowly creature like myself. "Come on," I said, grabbing my lunch and slamming my locker. We followed the flow of students to the dungeon. We were half way down the stairs when Debbie and Brendan pushed past us. "'scuse us," said Brendan. Debbie sneered. Blessing and I made our way through the mildewy smelling dungeon to our usual table where Susan was waiting for her lunch. The dungeon supposedly got it's name because it's in the basement, but we think it's because the food's so gross. Blessing and I bring our lunch, Susan eats whatever we bring her. "No lunch again?" I asked Susan. I don't know why I bothered. "No time. Tracie was hogging the bathroom." "I never make my lunch in the bathroom," giggled Blessing. Susan smiled. If I'd said it, she probably would have given me a dirty look. I handed Susan one of my chicken sandwiches. My mom doesn't know I feed Susan. She just thinks I eat a lot. "Thanks," she said, unwrapping the plastic wrap. "Your mom's sandwiches are always the best." I didn't tell her my mom's sandwiches come from the deli at the grocery store. In fact, pretty much all my lunch comes that way, but Susan was either too dumb or too polite to notice. Maybe she's just glad to have lunch. "Look what Blessing brought me from England," I said, holding up three bags of crisps. "What's the big deal?" asked Susan. "They look like potato chips to me." "Not just any potato chips," said Blessing. "Let's see, what flavors do we have here?" I asked, dragging out the suspense. "Would you like roast beef and pickle, ham and mustard, or scampi." "Roast beef and pickle? Gross. I'll take the Scampi. Whatever that is." "It's shrimp." "Never mind. I'll take the ham ones." I gave Blessing the pickle ones because they're her favorite and ripped open the scampi crisps for myself. "What's going on with you and Brendan?" asked Blessing. "Yeah, I saw you two hanging out at your locker. Did he finally notice you after all these years?" "He noticed what a klutz I am, if that's what you mean." "He wasn't looking at you as if he thought you were a klutz," said Blessing. "And Debbie was steaming. It was great," said Susan, laughing almost as wickedly as Debbie. Susan and Debbie have been glaring at each other since fifth grade over something neither of them can even remember. "Brendan doesn't like me, if that's what you two think, and I'm glad because for the millionth time I'm not interested in him!" They both laughed. "And trees don't have leaves," Susan laughed at her own brilliant joke. The whole time we'd been talking I'd had this knot of anxiety growing in my stomach. At first I thought it was the whole conversation, but now I realized that it was something going on around me that was making me uneasy. "What's going on?" I hissed at Blessing. I don't know why I was whispering, things just seemed weird. "Are people laughing at me?" "Well..." She kind of looked around the lunch room. "I think you're right!" said Susan. "Do I have a stupid kick-me sign on my back or something?" Susan leaned around me and checked out my back. Then she started laughing. "What? What's so funny?" Even as I asked I felt like I didn't want to know. Blessing looked at my back. She seemed a bit puzzled for a second. "You've got this big blue splotch on the back of your shirt." "Yeah, and it's the same color as your ribbon." Could my life get any worse? As usual I'd been really late getting up. The weather was still nice so instead of messing with drying my hair this morning I'd just braided it really quickly and put one of those fat hair ribbons on the end of the braid. The water in my hair must have made the dye run. Not only was everyone laughing at me, but Brendan had been standing behind me at my locker. He must have noticed. For a second I wondered why he didn't say anything and then I realized that he probably thinks I'm such a dork that he didn't want to embarrass me any more.
"What's that saying about tying a ribbon on a pig's ear?" Debbie asked Kimberly really loudly as they sauntered past our table. Her crowd giggled as they walked away, but I didn't even look up. Chapter Six By Thursday I'd become the center of attention and it was driving me crazy. I grabbed my baseball cap out of my locker and pulled it down over my eyes. "Maybe no one will notice me now," I said. "What do you think?" "You're not supposed to wear hats to class," Blessing reminded me. "I'll take it off when I get there. It's only for the hallway. I'm tired of everyone pointing and snickering at me." "I think they're still going to know who you are." She put her arm around me and gave me a quick squeeze. "Look on the bright side, love. Tomorrow's Friday and then it's the weekend. You're going to survive." "Yeah, one day until the weekend and NINE months until summer vacation!" I slunk down the hall and Blessing floated along beside me, regal as ever. I don't know how she does it. If I were walking next to someone who was getting a lot of attention, I think I'd feel self-conscious myself. Nothing seems to phase Blessing though. Unfortunately Blessing was right. People still noticed me with the hat on. Even the seventh graders were talking about me. I just didn't get it. "What's the big deal?" I asked Blessing for the millionth time. "Are you sure you haven't heard anything?" "You know no one's going to tell me anything. After all, I'm your best friend. All I know is what Susan heard. Debbie started some rumor about you and tomorrow something big is going to happen." "That makes me feel so much better about coming to school tomorrow. In, fact, I think I feel a fever coming on. I'll probably have to stay home sick." Blessing felt my forehead with her cool, soft hand. "I don't feel a thing. You're fit as a fiddle and I expect to see you here tomorrow, young lady," she said in her mother's voice. She sounded exactly like her mother too. It's kind of weird because Blessing isn't much like her mother. They're both really sweet and good tempered, but they look about as different as my mother and I look alike. Mrs. White is plump and sort of plain. She's got that hair that's not a particular color and light eyes that sort of seem the same way. She smokes too. Blessing and I have tried to get her to quit, but so far it hasn't worked. She always seems tired too. Blessing, on the other hand, is lively and gets excited easily. She carries her sketch pad and her camera everywhere she goes and she's always drawing something or taking a picture of something she wants to draw later. As I went into Geometry and Blessing walked away I heard someone in the hall whisper my name again, followed by more laughter. I slipped into a seat on the far side of the room. "Hi, Amanda." Brendan slid into the seat across from me. "Hi," I said, snapping out of the dream I was having about hanging Debbie from the flagpole by her shoes. "How's it going?" I wanted to say terrible, but when I looked at him I knew he was expecting me to say fine, so I did. Just then, Debbie's sidekicks, Kimberly and Jackie, threw their books down on the desks behind us with a loud bang. I'm sure they intended to scare me, which they did. Naturally I jumped in my seat and they laughed. What's new? "Oh, did we scare you?" asked Kimberly innocently. "We're not interrupting a private conversation, are we?" asked Jackie sweetly. "Not yet," said Brendan. Yet? What did he mean by that? I had no intention of having a conversation with Brendan at all, let alone a private one. "So, are you going to the movies with Debbie tomorrow night?" Jackie asked Brendan. "Nope. I'm going to the Portland State football game." "Really?" I asked. "I'm going to. Where are you sitting?" "Haven't got a clue. My brother got us the tickets. How about you?" I could feel Jackie and Kimberly's eyes on my back, soaking up every word we said, but I didn't care. "We're in the press box. My dad's a writer, you know." "Well, I'll look for you," said Brendan. Before Jackie and Kimberly could butt in anymore, Mr. Jacobs told us to be quiet while he called roll. I had a lot of trouble concentrating on geometry because I kept thinking about all the kids in the hall laughing at me. Fortunately geometry comes pretty easy to me. Actually, school in general is pretty easy. I think that's why I get straight A's. I think it might be hereditary too. My dad's pretty smart. He wins all kinds of awards for his writing and his book about football was on the New York Times best sellers list for twelve weeks last year. That's why we get the new house. Because of all the money he made off that book. I guess we've always been pretty well off, but now nobody's worrying about how much college is going to cost. I try not to let on to people at school how well off we really are because I don't want anyone to think I'm a snob or anything. At this school there's a big mix here so it's pretty easy to blend in if you want to. There are kids that live in apartments, like Susan, kids who live on the hill that we're moving to and everyone in between. At least, until this year it's been pretty easy to blend in. Now everyone seemed to notice me. I just keep telling myself that tomorrow is Friday. Somehow that helps. Mr. Jacobs has devised a plan to keep us from running out of the room the second the bell rings. He waits until after it rings to write the assignment on the board. It doesn't seem to work that well because everyone ends up being in more of a hurry than if he just let us out on time. We only get four minutes between classes so we have to run a lot of the time anyway. "What's your next class?" asked Brendan as I scribbled down the assignment. "English. Mr. Baker." "Scary. I have him too. Third period. John Sparks fell asleep today and Baker totally ripped on him." "I heard." I put my baseball hat on as we left the room. "What's with the hat?" asked Brendan. "Oh, nothing. I just like it." It wasn't a lie. I do like it. "Don't you get in trouble?" "Not so far. I take it off in class." "Well, here's my social studies class." "Okay. See you." I stood there for some dumb reason. "Yeah, see you around. Maybe at the game tomorrow night." "Okay." Brendan disappeared into his classroom just as the tardy bell rang. I turned to go and almost bumped into Jackie, Debbie, and Kimberly. "Hi, Grace." I ignored them and walked on. I could tell by the look in Debbie's eyes that she was out to torture me. I wasn't going to give her the chance. Act like she's not even there. Don't be afraid. Don't give in. There wasn't really anything to be afraid of anyway. What was Debbie going to do except tease me? She certainly wouldn't start a fight in the hallway. Besides, I still don't even know why she cares about me. "Hey," she yelled at me. I turned back and looked right at her to see what she wanted. "What?"
"Nothing." She grinned. "Nothing until tomorrow, anyway." Then they all three busted up laughing and hurried away. Chapter Seven "I found the perfect dress for the homecoming dance," said Susan. She leaned against the nearest locker while Blessing and I squirmed on our furnace. It's not exactly "our furnace". Just like the table we sit at during lunch isn't "our table". But we sit here every morning and nobody bugs us. Besides, most of the kids like to cruise the halls before class. I only remember the heater actually being on once last year. It was a really warm day in April. All winter it had been an icebox. Today was forcasted to be pretty hot, so naturally they'd turned it on full blast and we could only sit on it for a minute or two before it got too hot. "Where'd you find the dress? asked Blessing. "The mall?" "Where else?" I said. Susan practically lives at the mall. She and Jimmy spend every Saturday there. Sometimes they even go there on Sundays. All they do is window shop too. Susan doesn't have any money to spend. Her clothes come from thrift stores. I'm not sure if that's because she has to buy them there or because she wants to. I think it's both. Shopping for clothes is so boring! Sometimes I like to go to the mall and get pizza or see a movie, but just walking around all day is really a time waster. "It's in this magazine," Susan held up the picture for us to see. The perfect dress, according to Susan, was a skimpy little silver sequin number. The model was about seven feet tall and weighed about a hundred pounds. She was mostly legs and chest with a little silver material in between. Needless to say, the dress wouldn't look the same on five-foot-two Susan, with her streaky black and orange hair. "Oh, that dress ought to be right in your price range," I said sarcastically. "Actually, it's not bad. It's only three hundred and fifty dollars." "You're going to spend three hundred and fifty dollars on a homecoming dress?" "Well, no," she admitted. "But I'd like to. Jimmy would really like me in this dress." "You better be careful," I warned her, "or he'll like you too much!" "How does Jimmy like high school?" asked Blessing, trying to keep the peace. "Oh, fine. He says it's boring and he misses me." "Aren't you worried about all the new girls he's around?" I asked. Sometimes I can't figure out why I'm so mean to Susan. We have a really odd relationship. We seem to bring out the worst in each other, yet we still hang out. Of course, Susan's different in the summer when Blessing's not around. She's kind of fun then. And a lot more relaxed. As soon as Blessing comes home, she gets really obnoxious to me and really sweet to Blessing. And she makes me act that way too. Maybe she just needs attention. "I'm not worried. Jimmy loves me," she countered. She seemed pretty confident in him. I just let it go. It's not like I want something bad to happen to her anyway. "I've got to split but don't forget, Amanda votes for Blessing, Blessing votes for me, and I vote for Amanda," Susan reminded us. "That way we each get at least one vote. "And, more importantly," I added, "none of the cheerleaders get any votes from us." "Exactly. Now don't forget." "How could we forget?" I asked her. "You've only told us six times this morning." "Yeah," said Blessing, "we may be the oldest kids in the school now, but we're not senile yet!" The warning bell rang and Susan took off. I hopped down off the heater, glad to be off of it. Maybe tomorrow it would be cold again. Of course, that would only happen if we had a cold snap tonight. Not very likely. "Are we really going to do it?" asked Blessing as we headed for homeroom. "Unless we want to lie to her later." "No, thanks. She'd get the truth out of me eventually and then I'd be in big trouble." "Personally, I think we should just vote for Susan," I said. "No matter what she says, you know she'd love to be homecoming princess." "True. And I don't want a vote anyway." "Let's vote for her. She'll probably forgive us when she weasels it out of us." "All right. Why not?" agreed Blessing. "Besides, with the luck I've been having since school started, Mrs. Collins would probably lose all the nominations except mine and I'd end up being homecoming princess." Blessing giggled. "At the assembly where everyone gives their little speech, you could give a talk about the strategy the coach should use in the big game." The tardy bell rang just as we dropped into our seats. Mrs. Sewell rattled off the roll call so fast some of the kids totally missed it. "Okay, class," she said when she was done, "today's the big day you've all been waiting for." A bunch of kids groaned and some of the guys in the back made rude noises. Travis Hamilton called out, "It's summer vacation already?" and his buddies laughed. I smiled a sickly sweet smile at Blessing and stuck my fingers in my dimples, indicating what I think of homecoming. "Now, class, I want you to take this voting very seriously. As you all know, most ninth graders in the area go to high school instead of junior high. Because of the overcrowding in our district, this just isn't possible. "Some of the parents and the administration think that you ninth graders shouldn't be punished for this, so they've arranged for us to participate in homecoming anyway." "Homecoming is punishment," someone whispered loudly. Mrs. Sewell ignored the comment and handed out the ballots. "Students, please write down one ninth grade girl and one ninth grade boy. The boys will act as escorts." I tried to ignore her as she rattled on and on. "She's way too excited about this" I whispered to Blessing. But at least Mrs. Sewell had changed the topic of conversation. She was a first year teacher and over the summer she'd gotten married. For the first two weeks of school that's all she talked about. The rehearsal dinner, the gifts, the wedding, their honeymoon (although she wouldn't give us any of the details on the honeymoon). Now she had something new to talk about. "In a couple of weeks the top five nominees will say a few words at the pep assembly. After that the student body will choose a princess to send to the homecoming game to represent our school." "Do the escorts get to say a few words about how they'd rather drop dead than be an escort at homecoming?" asked Travis. "No, they don't," Mrs. Sewell frowned at him. "All escorts should be proud to be a part of homecoming." "If anyone votes for me and I find out, I'll kill them," grumbled Travis. I chewed on the end of my pen for a second and then wrote in big, bold handwriting, "Travis Hamilton". I showed it to Blessing and she wrote the same thing. I don't like Travis very much because he thinks he's so gorgeous. I scribbled Susan's name on the ballot. I knew that she'd be secretly pleased, even if she acted mad at me at first. Homeroom is twenty-five minutes long and we still had fifteen minutes to go. Nothing happens in homeroom. It's really just a waste of time. Sometimes I catch up on homework, usually Blessing and I just talk while Mrs. Sewell tells everyone about Hawaii, the land of paradise and honeymoons. Today Mrs. Sewell reminisced about her homecoming days and I frantically tried to finish my geometry. Instead of actually doing my homework last night, I'd watched the Cubs game on cable.
They lost in the ninth inning and I'd been too depressed to do anything but go to bed. Of course, that was just the excuse I was using at the time so I wouldn't have to finish my homework! Chapter Eight On Monday afternoon I sat in Biology trying to concentrate on the homework assignment and trying even harder to ignore Stacey Groggin. "If you all look at page one-twenty-three, you'll see a diagram of the internal organs of the frog." "Mrs. Duke?" interrupted Stacey, without raising her hand. She's always interrupting and it drives me crazy. I don't see why Mrs. Duke puts up with it. "Yes, Stacey?" "Are we going to have to dissect frogs?" "Yes. We're going to dissect frogs in this class, however—" "Well, I'm just going to have to take an F for that. It's against my beliefs to harm a poor helpless creature in the name of science." "I was about to say that because dissection is such a controversial subject, students will be offered the opportunity to do a research project instead. Now, getting back to page—" "What kind of a project?" asked Stacey. Mrs. Duke took a deep breath and glanced at the clock. "We'll talk about that later on. Right now, turn to page one-twenty-three." Mrs. Duke began her lecture and Stacey interrupted her every thirty seconds like clockwork. I ignored them both. I was trying to finish the biology questions before the end of the period so I wouldn't have any homework. Soccer starts today and the first week is always a killer. Besides, I was trying to keep my mind busy so I could stop worrying about Debbie. She'd warned me last Thursday that something would happen on Friday, but nothing had happened at all. It had been an uneventful day. Especially compared to the first two weeks of ninth grade. I tried to relax over the weekend, but I couldn't help feeling a little nervous. Why hadn't anything "big" happened? The waiting was the worst part of it all. It's like walking around waiting for the ceiling to drop on you. You know it's going to because there's a big crack in it, but you don't know when. The only fun I'd had all weekend was at the Portland State football game. Dad had traded in his tux for a sport coat and we'd loaded up on junk food and sat in the press box. The game was really exciting too. PSU even won despite being the underdog. I hadn't seen Brendan at the game but I hadn't even looked for him. What's the point, really? The stadium's huge. He had seen me though. He told me in geometry today. I must have been easy to find though because he knew where to look for me. I accidentally mentioned to Susan and Blessing that he'd seen me and now they were making a big deal out of it. I really wish they'd give up the idea of me and Brendan. Besides, he's obviously going out with Debbie, so why would he be interested in me? Most of the class was working on the assignment instead of listening to Mrs. Duke and Stacey rattle on. I was almost done when the intercom came on. "Ding, ding, ding, ding, dong." The secretary played the familiar scale on her little xylophone which she keeps next to the microphone in the office. "Oh, for goodness sakes," muttered Mrs. Duke. "Can't it wait until the end of the period? This better be important." "May we have your attention please?" said the secretary. "Mrs. Collins, the ninth grade homecoming advisor is here to announce the five girls nominated for homecoming princess along with their escorts." Most of the kids stared up at the wall where the loudspeaker was mounted. I've always wondered why people do that. I'm pretty sure I saw Mrs. Duke roll her eyes as she sat down at her desk. I flipped through my Biology text looking for the last answer. I already knew who would be chosen. Everyone did. Debbie and her friends. Big deal. I didn't really think that Susan could be nominated with only two votes, but I half listened anyway. "Hello. This is Mrs. Collins. Homecoming is a very special time. It's a time to be proud of your school." Somebody in the back of the classroom made a gagging noise. "A time to show school spirit, and a time for football. I'm certain you're all anxious to know who the ninth graders have nominated so I will get right to it." "The nominees are Debbie Mayers escorted by Brendan James." Figures. "Kimberly Sullivan escorted by Christopher Smith, Jackie Johnson escorted by Phillip Larson-" "Congratulations!" said Lisa from the corner of the room where she sat with Jackie. "Ashley Meadows escorted by Justin Johnson, and Amanda Whitmore escorted by Travis Hamilton." For a split second I smirked to myself. So our votes had helped make that creep, Travis, an escort! And then reality hit me. Hard. Like a foul ball in the side of the head. "Congratulations to you all," Mrs. Collins said over the crackling P.A. "There will be a meeting of all the nominees and escorts on Tuesday during lunch." The secretary dinged her xylophone again and the P.A. clicked off. The room was so quiet that Stacey obviously couldn't stand it any longer. "Hey, Amanda! Congratulations!" she yelled out. "I never thought you'd get nominated." I could feel everyone staring at me and it was worse than the first day of school. My face flushed, but this time it wasn't from embarrassment. It was sheer anger! Then I heard giggling. I looked over in the corner at Jackie. She gave me a winning smile, but I knew she was just laughing at me. "Congratulations, girls." Mrs. Duke said. "Now, let's get on with our homework assignment. You can all get a good jump on it if you use the rest of the period well." Congratulations! How could she say that to me? TO ME! The one female in the whole school who didn't even own a pair of high heels. Who doesn't wear make-up. Who isn't a cheerleader. And who never, ever, ever considered the possibility of being nominated for homecoming princess. Why me? Who would have voted for me anyway? I tried to think. Maybe the soccer team. I'd heard some girls talking about homecoming at our team meeting last week. But me? I didn't think so. In fact, I'm sure that if the team had wanted to nominate someone they would have chosen Blessing. I know I would have. Then it hit me like a bolt of lightning. There was only one person who could have pulled off something like this. MY MOTHER! Of course. She'd paid Mrs. Collins off. After all, they work out together almost every morning. And my mother even admitted they'd discussed the possibility of me being homecoming princess. That must be it. My mother bought my nomination. How sick! The more I thought about it the more I knew it must be true. I'd heard of a mother in Texas who tried to knock off the competition so her daughter could be a cheerleader. I know my mother is single minded, but I never thought she'd sink this low! To be fair, buying a nomination isn't in the same category as killing someone, but still, it's bad. My dad says that politicians buy nominations all the time. Even so it was so unbelievably outrageous!
But there was no other explanation. My mother had been homecoming princess for three years in high school and her senior year she was queen. She just couldn't stand to see me passed over. I wonder how much she'd had to pay Mrs. Collins. Probably a lot. My mother had to be behind it. After all, who else would want to embarrass me this much? Chapter Nine "Of course I voted for you. I stick to my word." Susan glared at me and Blessing. Then she gave the soccer ball a hard kick. I kept stretching on the damp ground. I don't know why I bothered, I'm going to be sore tomorrow anyway. "We voted for you because we thought you'd like it." "But nobody voted for Blessing." "I don't care. I don't want to be homecoming princess anyway." "That's not the point," Susan insisted. "Yeah, the point is that my mom bought me a nomination and now I have to try and get out of it somehow." "I highly doubt your mom bought you a nomination. She doesn't seem like the type," argued Susan. "You know your mom didn't do it," agreed Blessing. "Here they come," Susan said, pointing at the gym doors. The football team streamed out onto the field. I don't know why she cares anymore. "Jimmy's at the high school, now," I reminded her. "They still look good, you know. A man in uniform." A whistle blew shrilly in our ears and our coach yelled, "I thought I told you to practice drills while you were waiting for me. Give me a lap around the track!" We all jumped up and ran down the grassy slope to the track. We jogged really slowly so we could talk. The seventh graders were way out in front. By the time you reach varsity soccer you know better than to run hard on the first lap. Coach Rawlins usually makes us run about ten or twelve laps each practice. We could hear her yelling at us to run faster as we plodded along. After practice we dragged ourselves back to the showers. Blessing squirmed and wriggled as we trudged across the track. "What's wrong with you?" I asked. "I think there's mud in my knickers." Susan laughed. The rain had soaked the field and it was mostly a patch of mud with some slimy grass stuck in it. Susan had plowed us every chance she'd gotten. We were all three covered head to toe. She was just really lucky that she was as muddy as we were. When we passed the football team one of the players broke away from the sidelines and ran over to us. "Hey, Amanda?" said the helmet. "Yeah?" I pushed my muddy bangs out of my eyes, trying to see who was talking to me. "It's me, Travis." He yanked the helmet off. "Well?" "Well, I just want to say that I'll be your escort at the assembly, but I'm not wearing a suit." "So?" I said. My brain was still working on a way to get out of the whole thing anyway. What did I care about Travis? "And if you win, there's no way I'm escorting you at the game." "Fine with me. There's no chance I'm going to win anyway." "Yeah, I know," said Travis. The football coach blew his whistle and yelled "are you here to play or what?" at him. Travis ran back to the sidelines. "What do you mean, 'you know'?" I called after him. "It was a set up," he yelled back. "Debbie set you up 'cause she thought it'd be a riot to see you in a long dress. But you're not supposed to win!" I whirled on Blessing and Susan. "Did you know?" "No. I swear, I didn't know," said Blessing. I believed her because she never lies. Besides, she would have told me. Susan picked up her pace towards the doors to the locker room. "Did you know?" I demanded, running after her. "Not really. I heard something..." Susan trailed off. "I can't believe you knew and you didn't tell me. You let me think my mother bought me a nomination!" "Look, we tried to tell you that your imagination was working overtime." Susan glared at me. I yanked the locker room door open and stormed in. "Amanda! Don't be mad at me. I didn't know for sure. Besides, what could you have done about it anyway? You should be mad at Debbie not me." Susan grabbed a towel and stomped off to the showers. I sat down on a bench and pulled off my muddy cleats. Susan was right and I knew it. She didn't do anything. Why did Debbie have to pick on me? I never did anything to her. Susan thinks Debbie's picking on me because Brendan likes me. I keep telling her she's crazy but sometimes I wonder. He does sit next to me in geometry every day. And he did talk to me at my locker that one time. Even if he's not interested in me, I guess I can see where Debbie might think that he is. But it doesn't matter either way because I'm not attracted to him. Besides, he and Debbie are almost always together. What does she have to worry about? I grabbed my towel and followed Susan. I hate taking showers at school even more than I hate using the toilet. There's one big room for everyone to shower in at once. No privacy at all. I ran some water over my towel in the sink and tried to get as much mud off me as possible. Blessing squeezed my shoulder as she went by to the shower. "I'm sorry." I called to Susan as she hurried out of the shower to get dressed. "I wasn't thinking." "Okay," she grumbled. The rest of the team was gone by the time we'd washed half the soccer field off of us and gotten dressed again in our school clothes. "Seriously, you guys, there's no way Debbie is going to get the satisfaction of seeing me stumble through the pep assembly in a long dress and high heels." "Why not?" Susan asked. "You can learn to walk in high heels." "But I don't want to learn to walk in high heels. Don't you think I'm tall enough already?" "So, low heels. You could do it," argued Susan, still trying to convince me. "I also don't have a dress, and unlike you, I don't have three hundred and fifty dollars to spend on one." "Not all dresses cost that much," said Blessing. "Besides, your mom would buy you a dress in a second." "Or you could wear one of hers," suggested Susan. "I don't think so." The last thing I'd ever do is be caught dead in one of my mom's dresses. All her long dresses look like she's up for an Oscar. Plunging necklines, slits up the sides, sequins, velvet, you name it. I could just see me walking into the pep assembly looking like I was ready to "thank The Academy"! "I really could teach you to walk in high heels," offered Susan. "Hello, Grace. Congratulations on your achievement." Debbie stood in the doorway with the rest of the squad at her elbow. "Hi, Grace," they chorused, right on cue. "Picked out your dress for the assembly yet?" asked Debbie? Her smile grew more taunting by the second. "Written your speech yet?" asked Kimberly. "I think a black dress would look lovely on you," suggested Debbie. "It would go super with your soccer cleats." "Just lay off," I said, turning back to my locker. "Are we hurting your feelings, Grace? I'm sorry. We were just making a little joke." "Let's get out of here." I grabbed my backpack. "Yeah, why don't you go cry on Blessing's shoulder? After all, it's such a blessing to have a friend like Blessing." That was it. I'd had enough of Debbie. Nobody makes fun of Blessing's name when I'm around. Blessing's name isn't just unusual, it's special. Mrs. White was told she couldn't have any children, so when she got pregnant, she felt like it really was a blessing. "Maybe you should get a black dress to go with the black eye I'm going to give you right now." I lunged at Debbie, but Blessing and Susan grabbed me by the arms. The cheerleaders laughed, but Debbie flinched a little and I could tell she was thinking about how ugly she'd look if I did give her a black eye. "Look, Grace," said Debbie, her voice shaking a little, "why don't you do us all a favor and drop out right now. You're never going to win and you're never going to get Brendan." Get Brendan? Susan was right. That was what this was all about after all! I couldn't believe it! Debbie actually thought I wanted Brendan. Was everyone going off their rocker? "What's Brendan got to do with it?" "All you're doing is making a fool of yourself," said Debbie, smiling sweetly at me. "You'll never get him or be the princess. Why don't you quit while you're still ahead?" And that's when I got as crazy as the rest of them. My voice took over and my brain went to sleep and I still don't know how it happened. But there was one thing I did know. Suddenly there was no going back. "Oh, yeah?" I shouted in Debbie's face. "Not only am I not going to drop out, but I'm going to win!" I pushed my way through the cheerleaders to the door with my head held high. "And," I added, turning back to look Debbie in the eye, "you better hold on tight to Brendan too."
Debbie's smile turned into a glare and it was then, as I turned to leave, that I noticed that Debbie was wearing Brendan's letterman's jacket. Chapter Ten "Amanda, your room's a mess again," Mom informed me the second I walked in the door. I kicked off my shoes and dropped my backpack next to them. It had been three days since the locker room fiasco and my life was getting worse by the minute. "Are we still moving in two weeks?" I asked, pouring myself a glass of orange juice. "Yes. And I expect you to be ready." "Then there's no reason to clean up my room before we move. I'll do it when I pack." "Don't talk to me like that, and put your glass in the dishwasher when you're done." Like Mom has to tell me to do that. She doesn't even know how to work the dishwasher anymore. Ever since Dad's big windfall, she's had a woman come in to do the cleaning three days a week. "The packers are coming two weeks from today. If you haven't packed by then, they're going to do it for you because I want everything to be ready on that Friday when the movers get here." "Packers? What do you mean, packers?" "You know, the people who pack all the stuff up." "You're not going to pack it all yourself?" "Why should I?" I couldn't believe it. The cleaning lady was bad enough. And the fact that we're on a first name basis with the ladies at the deli is embarrassing. Now my mother was too lazy to pack her own stuff. "I thought when you move you're supposed to get rid of things," I said. "You are." "So how are the packers going to know what to get rid of?" "Oh, I'll be there. I'm certainly not going to let them pack without me watching." "Whatever." I rolled my eyes but I was careful not to let her see. She really hates it when I do that. "It will go much smoother this way. You'll see." My mother is certainly amazing. She's never liked to clean, and who can blame her, but this seemed really wild to me. I didn't even know you could hire people to pack your stuff. Well, that's not entirely true. I've seen it in movies, but that usually happens in the big city. Every person I know who has moved has done it themselves. First they get all the junk together that they don't want and then they have a garage sale. After that they donate what's left to charity and then they pack all their stuff up and move. I wanted to have a garage sale but Mom wouldn't even consider it. Not even if Blessing and I did it ourselves. I didn't have that much to sell without Mom and Dad's stuff, so I had to give up that idea. I was still kind of bummed out about that. I noticed Mom leafing through some papers. "What are you reading?" I asked, trying to change the subject. "Our itinerary for the weekend." "Why? Where are you going?" "What do you mean where am I going? We're going to New York City." "Who is? You and Dad?" "No," she said in her overly patient voice, "you and I are going." "What are you talking about?" Mom put down the stuff she was reading. "Amanda, I told you yesterday at dinner that you have to go to New York with me tomorrow morning because your father's going to Chicago and you can't stay home alone." At dinner? I didn't remember any conversation about New York at dinner. Mom must have been dreaming. Just as I was about to start arguing with her I vaguely remembered something about a modeling convention. Maybe she had told me at dinner. I really don't listen to her very often when she talks about modeling. I thought she was talking about something that was going on here in Portland. "I can't go to New York," I said, "tomorrow's Friday. I have school, remember?" "You can miss one day." "I don't want to miss school." I don't know why I said that. Every morning when I get up the last place I want to go is school. Especially since each day seems to be worse than the one before. Not wanting to go to New York didn't really have anything to do with school though. It's the modeling convention. Mom's always trying to get me to go to things like that so that I'll be discovered and I can be the super model she always wanted to be. It's not my problem that she never made it to super model status. She's the one who got married and had a kid. I may be the kid, but I didn't make her have me. If she wanted to be a super model she should have used birth control. "Hello, Princess," said Dad coming out of his office. "What are all the raised voices about?" "Amanda doesn't want to miss school to go to New York tomorrow." "Not miss school? What's wrong with you? Got a crush on a boy you can't stay away from?" "No, I don't have a crush on some boy. And don't call me princess!" I grabbed my backpack and stormed off to my room. My parents are the most impossible parents I've ever heard of. Who else has to put up with beauty tips from their mother and being teased by their father? No one. Susan's Dad never teases her about stuff like that. Mostly all he does is go fishing and watch basketball on television. Susan hasn't seen her mother in years so she doesn't count. Her mother ran away and joined a nudist colony when Susan was just a kid and now she lives in Seattle. Blessing's Mom doesn't tease her either. She's always very nice to her. In fact, Mrs. White doesn't seem to have much of a sense of humor at all. She's just sort of relaxed and sweet. My parents are nosy, bossy, and think they're funny. Not only do they tease me, but they're always butting into my business. By the time I got home from school last Monday, they knew all about me getting nominated for princess. Knowing my mother, she probably found out before I did. Ever since then she'd been following me around with photographs of dresses that she thinks I should consider and my father's been calling me Princess. What a total pain. I flopped down on my bed and reached for my phone. Blessing answered on the first ring. "I have to go to New York tomorrow, so could I get your copy of Great Expectations for the weekend?" I asked. "You can get mine out of my locker, okay?" "Sure. Why are you going to the Big Apple?" "Mom and Dad are both going out of town this weekend. They're not giving me a choice." "Well, perhaps a day off from school would do you good." "Perhaps," I said, imitating her accent. We both laughed. After I hung up I heard Mom coming down the hallway. I felt my stomach tighten up. "Amanda?" said Mom, peeking through my open doorway. "Yeah?" I said. I stared at the white ceiling. The ceiling is the only part of my room that's not covered with sports posters. That's where Mom drew the line. "We could look for a dress in New York."
Ahhhgggg! Chapter Eleven It turns out Mom didn't really want me to go to New York after all. She just had an extra ticket because her assistant couldn't go. In the end my father's trip got canceled, he went to New York with my mom, and I stayed at Blessing's. I should have known I was second choice. Susan held up a gold mini dress. "Forget it. It's too slinky." "Just try it on for fun," said Blessing. "Oh, okay." I was too tired of shopping to argue with Susan, let alone Blessing too. I'd gotten a brilliant idea at Blessing's on Friday night. We'd go to the mall and pick out my dress while my parents were out of town. I had one hundred and six dollars in my little safe at home and Blessing had fourteen dollars to loan me if that wasn't enough. I knew my mom would pay us back because she said she'd buy the dress. I took the scrap of gold material into the fitting room to try on. "Here she comes, Miss America," sang Susan. I flounced out of the dressing room twisting and turning like one of my mother's glamour models. "Oh, it's so you!" gushed Blessing, acting like my mother. "Actually I think it would look great on Susan," I said, tugging on the bottom of it so it wouldn't ride up and show my underwear. "Maybe I should buy it for you and you can impersonate me at the assembly." Susan looked at the dress wistfully. I knew that there was no way that she'd ever be able to afford a dress like this. At least not until she was grown up and had a job. "Why can't I just buy a white dress?" I asked for the millionth time. "If I'm going to win this thing, then I'm going to need a white dress. I really don't want to go through this shopping thing again." I'd decided to win. After I told Debbie I was going to beat her I'd really just wanted to quit. But then she'd spent the whole week torturing me and now it was war. Every time I walked down the hall it seemed as if I was trying to walk through a wall. Kids clumped together and I could never get through. I was late to class six times. At first I thought it was just a coincidence. After all, they're always talking about overcrowding in the schools. But then I realized it was the same ten or so girls that were always blocking my way. Brendan hadn't been able to sit next to me in Geometry either. Every time I sat down girls would come out of nowhere and take all the seats around me. I felt like one of those people that are being followed by the Mob or the FBI. "You can't wear the same dress twice. It's tacky." "Besides, your mom would never let you get away with it," agreed Blessing. Finally we all agreed on a long, slim, red dress. I wasn't too sure about it because I knew I wouldn't be able to blend into the scenery in red, but we all thought it looked pretty good. I gave in because it was the least revealing dress I'd tried on all day. It had a high square neckline, long sleeves, a tight bodice (which I didn't like), and a flowing skirt (which I did like). I think it was supposed to be floor length, but it fit me more like what Mom calls tea length, right at my ankles. Blessing and Susan both said that was okay. When we were finally done at the mall we went back to Blessing's house to stay the night. "Did you bring the high heels?" asked Susan. "Nope." "Amanda!" she screeched at me loud enough to break glass. "Okay, okay. Yes, I brought them. They're in my bag." I'd borrowed a pair of my mother's lowest high heels. Luckily we both have the same big feet. I took off my boots and shoved my feet into the pumps. I tried to stand up but my toes were sandwiched together. I winced in pain. "You can't wear socks with pumps, love. Here, put these on." Blessing handed me a pair of stockings. "Come out in the hall," ordered Susan. I gave Blessing a desperate "help me" look but she just smiled encouragingly at me. Susan was absolutely ruthless. She must have made me walk up and down the hall fifty times. "Try it again, and don't look at your feet this time." "I can't help it. I'm just making sure they're still there. They've gone numb." I hobbled up and down the hall while Susan read a Cosmopolitan magazine out loud. "Ouch! I twisted my ankle. Can we quit now?" "We can't quit until you get it. You look really funny." I must not have looked very happy, regardless of how "funny" I looked because Susan decided we could at least take a break. We went into Blessing's room and I collapsed onto her plush antique chair. My feet seemed to be swollen right into the shoes. I tried to yank one of the shoes off to inspect the damage. "Don't take them off," suggested Blessing. "They'll hurt more when you put them back on." "Who says I'm putting them back on?" "I say you're putting them back on." Susan glared at me from the floor where she was sitting next to Blessing. I put the shoe back on my sore foot. "I think my mother forgot to pass the high heel gene on to me," I grumbled. Blessing's room is nice. It's an old house and it's sort of dark and comfy. Mrs. White's really into antiques and Blessing's bed is this cool four poster number. The floors are wood and she's got this neat old rug that she was sitting on with her back to me. At first glance I thought she was just working on a project for art class. Piled all around her were pieces of black net cut into squares and yards of red ribbon. It was the mounds of gold covered footballs that made me realize it wasn't an art project. "What are you doing?" I asked Blessing. "It's the surprise." "What surprise?" They're candy packs," explained Susan. "We're going to tie these football candies up in a little package with net and a ribbon." Blessing held up a candy pack. "Then we're going to tie on tags that say "Vote For Amanda!" "And on Friday we're going to give them out to the seventh graders before the assembly," concluded Susan triumphantly. "Oh, my God! You're buying votes for me?" "Darling, we're just trying to help," Blessing tried to soothe me. "I can't believe you guys. Are you crazy?" I must have been yelling because Susan just freaked out. "Listen to me." She jumped up off the floor and got right in my face. "All we're trying to do is help you win. If you think you can win by being glamorous and beautiful you've got another think coming!" "Susan—" I tried to interrupt her but she wasn't finished. "Blessing and I have spent a lot of time trying to get your campaign off the ground. Without any help from you, I might add." "Campaign? I'm not running for class president, you know." "I'm not finished. You are the one who opened your big mouth and told Debbie that you were going to beat her. If you don't quit your whining and complaining I'm just going to go home and you can lose this stupid thing all by yourself!" Susan was taking this way too seriously. I couldn't believe her. On the other hand, she was right. There was no way I was going to win by trying to act like Debbie and her friends. I couldn't even walk in high heels. Who was I kidding? Maybe Susan was right. Maybe the only way to win was to "campaign". "I'm sorry you guys. I'm just so stressed out." I slumped down next to them on the floor and started putting candy packs together. "Amanda," Blessing said, "what's that thing your Grandpa's always saying? Something about having fun?" Blessing was referring my crazy grandpa. He's my mom's dad and he's always telling Mom she takes life way too seriously. He's one of those guys who goes on yoga trips to India, rides camels in the middle East and eats snakes in the desert. "Above all, have fun." "What?" asked Blessing, raising her voice. "Above all, have fun," I said louder. "I can't hear you!" shouted Blessing like a cheerleader. "ABOVE ALL, HAVE FUN!" I shouted back at her. "Exactly! I was just sitting here and I suddenly realized that the biggest problem we have is that you're not having any fun." "No kidding." "Well, how about if we make it more fun?" "How?" Susan and I demanded together. "Let's go hit my mum up for some popcorn and hot chocolate and then I'll tell you my idea." "That sounds like more fun already," I said, popping a chocolate football into my mouth. "Don't eat those!" Susan shrieked. "Fun!" Blessing reminded her. "We're in it for the fun." "Sorry." Susan smiled and popped a football into her own mouth.
We got up, stretched and headed for the kitchen. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear Blessing's idea or not, but I figured that since it wasn't Susan's idea it couldn't be all bad. Chapter Twelve "Amanda, you can't ride to school in this weather." "Well, I would have taken the bus, but somebody insisted on giving me a ride and now they're ditching me." "Don't be smart with me. I forgot about my meeting, okay? Just go and wake your dad up and you won't be too late." My mother grabbed her brief case and a banana and ran out the door. Great. Just great. Typical Monday morning. Sure wake my dad up. It's sounds easy to her. She doesn't have to do it. Dad's worse than me in the mornings. And he probably has jet lag too since they didn't get in until midnight last night. By the time I'd dragged him out of bed and got to school I was really late. Again. I ran through the empty halls just waiting to hear what Mrs. Sewell had to say about me being late. So much for good attendance. Mrs. Sewell really likes me now that I've been nominated for homecoming princess. I guess she can relate to me. But like me or not, she wasn't smiling when I walked into homeroom. "Principal Farbinger would like to see you in his office right away." Just for being late? It wasn't even my fault today. I should have gotten a note from my dad. As I walked down the hall to the office I thought of a spelling trick that my sixth grade teacher had taught us. Nobody could ever remember if principal ended with "ple" or "pal". She told us it ended with pal because the principal is our pal. I wondered how much of a pal Principal Farbinger was going to be? "Have a seat," said Mrs. Cameron when I got to the office. She didn't even look at me. I sat on the hard, cold bench so long that I began to get really nervous. What had I done? Why was I there. The bell for the end of homeroom rang and I could hear lockers slamming and kids in the halls. After what seemed like an hour, but was really only eleven minutes, Mrs. Cameron told me to go in. When I opened the door to Mr. Farbinger's office he was just sitting there waiting. I think they let you sit out in the main office just to scare you. That way the adult has the advantage. "Good morning, Miss Whitmore." "Hello." "Have a seat. Let's make this quick and get right to the point." I sat down in a hard green metal chair. There was a giant pause. So much for making it quick. "What we have here is what I consider a simple misunderstanding." He shuffled through some papers on his desk. "When you were nominated for homecoming princess by your peers you were not expected to launch a campaign. You're not running for class president, you know." I looked at him blankly. How did he know about all the plans we'd made on Saturday night? Suddenly I got this vision of Principal Farbinger peeking through Blessing's curtains. Sick. "I'm not sure what you mean," I finally stammered. "The posters, Miss Whitmore. The posters that are all over the halls asking students to vote for you." "Posters?" Oh, thank God. I didn't know what he was talking about, but at least I knew he wasn't spying on us. "Miss Whitmore, are you denying that you put posters up all over the school asking people to vote for you?" "What are you talking about?" "These posters!" roared Mr. Farbinger. He pulled a large piece of orange poster board out from under his desk. In big black letters it said "VOTE FOR AMANDA WHITMORE, THE ONLY TRUE PRINCESS!" I felt my face turn bright red. "But Mr. Farbinger, I never saw that poster before." I thought of Susan and how determined she was for me to win. "Maybe one of my friends did it. I'd be really glad to take them down." Mr. Farbinger looked at me skeptically. "Yes. I think that would be a good idea. Go and take them down and don't be late to your next class." I rushed out of the office. In the hall there were posters every ten feet. How did I miss them when I came in? I know I was in a hurry, but I must've been blind not to see them. The more signs I took down the angrier I got at Susan. How could she humiliate me like this? Some of the signs didn't even put me in the best light. "The only true princess"? What a stupid thing to put on a sign. By the time the bell rang I had raced up and down each hall and collected what I hoped were all the posters. I waited outside Susan's math class loaded down with them. When she came out I was ready for the attack. "Susan—" "Did you see those posters?" she demanded. "Oh, I guess you did. I'd take them down too, if I were you." "What do you mean take them down. Didn't you put them up?" "Me? You've got to be kidding." She actually looked surprised at the idea. "Well, who put them up then?" "I don't know. I thought you did." "I'm sure." Then a bolt of lightning hit us both at the same time. "Debbie!" we shouted together. "She probably put them up and went and complained to Farbinger that I was campaigning." "Why?" asked Susan. "Did you get in trouble with Farbinger?" "Yep. That's who told me to take them down. Not that I would have left them up anyway. I just didn't notice them because I was so late." Susan helped me tear up the posters and shove them into the recycle bin. "Now we really have to win," Susan told me before we went our separate ways to third period. For once I was glad to see the evil look in Susan's eyes. So Debbie was going to play rough. I could play rough. We had made a good plan and now I wasn't going to back down. I was sure I could win homecoming, but what about Brendan? The question was, did I really want Brendan? Maybe winning homecoming was enough. It would be mean of me to pretend I like Brendan when I don't. On the other hand, the more Susan and Blessing encouraged me to go for him, the more I sort of seemed to like him. Life's pretty confusing now. Last year Brendan and I played baseball together and that was it. If he talked to me at all, it was only about strategy or pitching or to raz me about my Cubbies. Now he talks to me about other things, like geometry and school. Well, at least he had been talking to me about those things before Debbie's friends cut off all communication. At lunch Susan had good news. Our plan was already in action and things were going to go fine. "I talked to Travis this morning and he agreed to help us," she said. "But can we trust him?" I asked. I handed her a sandwich. "Oh, yeah. We can trust him." Susan smiled her wicked smile. "He's as unhappy as you are about this whole assembly so he's all for adding a little fun to it." "Great." "He even agreed to help us before I mentioned that I saw him cheating on last Friday's math quiz." "Did he really cheat?" asked Blessing. "Oh, I don't know. Probably. It was just a lucky guess on my part." "What else do we have to do?" I asked. "There's not a lot more to do before Friday. You just have to practice what you're going to say." "What about it?" asked Blessing. "Oh, that. I'm talking to Jimmy tonight. I know it won't be a problem as long as we get it back to him right after school." "Hi, Grace," Debbie called, as she sauntered past our table. "Hi, Princess!" I called after her.
"NOT!" we all yelled together, laughing. Chapter Thirteen The red dress twisted around my legs. I stumbled on the stairs and I could feel the sweat dribbling down the backs of my knees. The dress caught on something and I yanked at it. Suddenly my eyes flew open and I looked at the white ceiling of my bedroom. The sheets were wrapped around my legs and I was breathing hard. My heart thumped so loudly I swore I could hear it. Friday morning. The day of the assembly. I'd dreamed I was stumbling around the auditorium in the red dress and high heels and everyone was laughing a silent, menacing laugh. Debbie stood center stage looking royal and beautiful, clutching a crown to her head with red roses at her feet. Brendan smiled at her and my mother was in the audience giving her a standing ovation. I dragged myself out of bed an hour early and took a hot shower. Mom was waiting for me when I got out. "Okay, this is going to be fun," she said, sitting me down in a chair. Fun? Maybe for her. Torture for me. She smeared something gooey on my face with a sponge. "Yuck! What's that?" "It's just foundation. Don't worry, I'm doing all your make-up very lightly." "I can't believe I'm letting you do this." Maybe "letting" wasn't the right word. I hadn't exactly been given a choice. Well, I had, but the choices weren't that great. Either Susan or my mother had to do my make-up. Even Blessing said I had to wear some make-up for this stupid pep assembly and there was no way I could do it myself. I also knew better than to let Susan get a hold of me. "Don't squirm so much, Amanda." I tried to sit still while mom put mascara on me. Finally she started in on my hair. This is exactly why I don't want to be a model. I don't have the patience for sitting around letting someone treat me like I'm a doll. "Are you sure I can't just wear a French braid?" "Positive. Just count yourself lucky I'm not putting it up." I grimaced. I really hated the idea of wearing my hair loose. Up almost sounded better. Every single day I either braided my hair or put it in a pony tail. As far as hair goes, mine's pretty nice, but it makes me look way too old when I wear it down. Last summer Susan talked me into wearing it down and we went to the mall. These really old guys from high school or college tried to pick us up. Susan loved it but I felt so totally stupid. "Don't worry so much. These big, loose curls are really in right now." I hoped I didn't end up looking like Cindy Brady. Naturally I didn't say that out loud. Mom doesn't appreciate those sorts of comments. "Hold still while I hair spray you." I clenched my eyes closed tight. I hate hair spray almost as much as I hate make-up. It makes me gag. When I got to school Blessing was waiting for me outside on the steps of the seventh grade wing. Two big boxes of football candy packs were sitting next to her. "Wow, look at you. Your hair looks fantastic." "Thanks. Where's Susan?" "She's in the bathroom putting on her face. Who knows how long that will take." "What am I supposed to do with this stuff?" I asked, holding up my garment bag and an extra bag besides my backpack. "How about your locker? Or is it too untidy already?" "Ha, ha. You Brits are so witty. It's supposed to go in Mrs. Collins' office, but I don't think I have time to run it over there." Blessing and I looked around for a safe place to hang the dress. "How about up there?" She pointed to the outdoor light mounted on the side of the wall. "Yeah, I can probably reach up there." I stepped up on to the bottom bar of the porch railing and stretched. I just managed to hook the hanger on the light. "Now I just hope I can get it down." "What goes up must come down." "Wooohoo! Look at those curls," Susan said, coming out through the door. "And make-up too. You look good!" "Thanks." I blushed. I always blush. "I just hope it doesn't rain before we get all this candy handed out," said Blessing. We all looked up at the charcoal sky. "Okay, ladies, here come the busses. I'll take this box and you and Blessing can share that one." The first bus' doors creaked open and kids spilled out into the courtyard. In a matter of seconds the peaceful morning air was shattered by seventh graders screaming and yelling their way towards the doors. Some of the girls were chasing a tall, red headed kid and he was holding one of their notebooks high in the air. Papers flew out of the notebook and the girls scrambled for the loose notes. "Vote for Amanda for princess!" Susan shouted out while she handed out the candy. She wasn't supposed to say that. We'd agreed. It was supposed to just be a gift. I didn't want to get in trouble again. In fact, after the poster thing, I'd just wanted to forget all about the candy packs, but Susan convinced me I was going to need the votes to beat Debbie. Besides, I'd probably eat all the chocolate footballs myself if I didn't give them away. Then I'd turn into a giant zit. I didn't say anything as I handed out the candy and I didn't need to. Once the kids figured out we were giving away free candy they mobbed us. We got swallowed in a lake of seventh graders and the noise was deafening. I don't know how the teachers put up with it. A kid on the outside waved his arms and shouted at me to toss one to him. I made a perfect throw and he jumped up and caught it. The tall red headed guy that had been bugging the girls waved at me and I tried to bean him. Someone intercepted it and the two of them fell on the ground wrestling for it. I threw more candy into the crowd. Some of the kids dived for it, others went out for long passes. I reached into the box and there were only a few more bundles left. Then the warning bell rang. The seventh graders pushed past us through the double doors so fast they practically knocked us over. Scardy-cats. Afraid of detention. Even candy wasn't worth detention to seventh graders. As fast as they had arrived they disappeared. All that was left were a lot of red tags that said "A gift from Amanda". We'd decided the tags were innocent enough. We scooped up the tags and threw them in the boxes, grabbed our school bags and hurried off to our lockers. I couldn't afford to be late again. I passed Brendan in front of his homeroom. Surprisingly enough, Debbie was nowhere to be seen. "Hey, Amanda." "Hi." "You look really great. I like your hair like that." I could feel my face turning red. No matter what I do I can't help blushing when people give me compliments. I finally managed to squeeze a thank you out of my dry mouth. "Good luck today. I'm sure you'll be great," he said, going into his classroom.
This time I didn't even have to squeak out a thanks because he was gone. I hurried off to my locker. I wish I had as much confidence in me as Brendan does. Chapter Fourteen I squirmed in my seat while Mr. Baker tried to get the class involved in a discussion about Great Expectations. I had my own great expectations to worry about. I stared out the window watching the rain slip down the pane, forming a puddle where the molding leaked. "Read chapter nine and ten over the weekend," instructed Mr. Baker over the ringing bell. "I'm so glad I don't have to go to Biology," I said to Blessing as we filed out into the crowded hall. "I'm glad Mrs. Collins is letting me out of gym to help you get ready. It will be a lot more fun." "I figure Mrs. Collins didn't think I'd be able to get ready without some help. She probably thinks I don't even know how to put a dress on." "Do you?" joked Blessing. "Probably not." I was dead serious. "Are you nervous?" "I'm scared to death. I keep wondering how I got myself into this and then I remember it was my big mouth. Thank God it will all be over in a few hours." "I thought you wanted to win." "Oh, yeah. That's right." I'm in this to win. I have to keep reminding myself. I wish there was some way I could get back at Debbie and still lose. The thing is, if I win, I'm the one who gets punished. Two weeks from today I have to put on another dress and walk around on a football field in front of everyone in the whole world! How does that make me the winner? There's also this whole stupid thing with Brendan. The other day I got the enlightening idea of letting Debbie beat me on that. So what if she gets Brendan? I don't have any feelings for him anyway. At least that's what I thought until this morning. When he told me how nice I looked I kind of felt my stomach do a flip. I was probably just nervous. I'm sure that's it. Debbie can have Brendan, I'll win this thing, then I'll steal Blessing's passport and stow away on a ship to England before the game. Her grandmother will probably put me up. "Here goes nothing," I said, opening the locker room door. I grabbed my bag out of Mrs. Collins' office where I'd left it before second period. I could hear Debbie and her friends laughing and having a good time at their lockers in the cheer leading section. "I think this is only about the third time I've ever worn nylons. How do you get them on again?" "You just kind of scrunch them up, like this." Blessing showed me. "Okay, wish me luck. I hope I don't ruin them just trying to put them on." "You won't," she said confidently. I wriggled into the nylons. So far so good. I pulled my mom's red pumps out of my bag. Thank goodness they weren't as high as some of her other ones. "You need your dress," said Blessing. "I'll get it from the office." "Thanks." I was busy trying to decide if you're supposed to put your shoes on before or after the dress. "It's not there! Your dress is gone!" Blessing's face was as white as her last name. Just then Debbie's loud cackle filled the locker room. "Debbie!" Blessing and I shouted together. There were more giggles. I stormed over to the corner where they were getting ready with Blessing right on my heels. Debbie sat on a bench in a black ruffled mini dress. Kimberly tried to put mascara on Debbie's eyelashes in between fits of laughter. "Where's my dress?" I demanded. "Oh, hi, Grace." Debbie smiled up at me. "Nice outfit." I looked down at myself. I was standing there in front of Debbie and her entourage in my slip. "Don't hi Grace me! Where's my dress?" I yelled at her again. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Maybe your dress is like the Emperor's New Clothes," laughed Kimberly. "Only the audience will be able to see it." "Debbie, I'm serious. If you don't cough up my dress in the next five seconds, I'm going to wear your dress no matter how I have to get you out of it." "What's going on here, ladies?" asked Mrs. Collins, stepping in between me and Debbie. "She took my dress." Mrs. Collins looked surprised. "What do you mean, took your dress?" "I mean took it. It's gone. I know she did it. Who else would have taken it out of your office?" "Amanda," said Mrs. Collins, "your dress was never in my office. I distinctly remember you leaving your shoulder bag this morning. I remember thinking how odd it was that you didn't bring your dress in a garment bag, but I was on the phone so I didn't ask you." "The light," whispered Blessing from behind me. "Oh, no!" I cried. "We must have left it outside." "I'll go get it." Blessing ran out the door. "Amanda, I think you owe Debbie an apology." "I'm sorry," I said through gritted teeth. "Apology accepted," Debbie replied sweetly, her smile more malicious than ever. I was sitting on the cold metal bench when Blessing burst back into the locker room without the dress. "It's gone, isn't it?" "No, it's not gone. I just can't reach it. And, Amanda, it's been raining all afternoon." I pulled my jeans and T-shirt on over my slip and ran for the door. I hadn't even thought about the rain when Blessing had gone to get it. I knew I could reach it, but it must be soaked. I climbed up on the rail and yanked it down, breaking the plastic hanger. I handed it to Blessing and we ran back to the locker room. Blessing unzipped the garment bag while I tore off my clothes. "Hey, it's not that wet after all. Only a little around the bottom." "Who cares? Help me get it on." Blessing helped me slide the dress over my head and then she zipped up the back. I tried to slide into the pumps at the same time and twisted my right ankle. "Are you okay?" "I guess." I sat down on the bench to rub my ankle. That's when I noticed the huge hole in the toe of my nylons. "Blessing look!" "It's okay. I've got some nail polish." "What for? I don't have time to paint my nails." "Five minutes, girls!" shouted Mrs. Collins from her office. "Not to paint your nails with silly. To stop the run." Blessing slopped clear nail polish all around the hole and the mega run that was starting up the bottom of my foot. Then she blew on my foot. "Hey, that tickles!" "Once you put your foot in that shoe, don't take it out until you're ready to throw these nylons away." "I'm ready to throw them away right now." "Okay, girls, let's go. Time for the pep assembly. You all look beautiful." Everyone kept primping. "Come on, now." "Here, you need some lipstick." Blessing tried to apply lipstick while I shoved clothes in my locker. "And your hair needs fluffing." She fluffed as we walked. "Oh, my God, Blessing!" "What? What is it?"
"I've completely forgotten my speech." Chapter Fifteen I clumped noisily down the endless hall behind Mrs. Collins and the rest of the girls. Blessing pushed and prodded at my rain-damaged curls and I rubbed my lips together hoping that her aim with the lipstick had been okay. The escorts were already at the door to the auditorium. "Remember, it's alphabetical order," Mrs. Collins reminded us. "I'm glad I'm last," I whispered to Blessing. "That way I can make a run for it if I chicken out." "Stop it. You'll be great." Blessing turned to Travis. "Did you do it?" "Yeah, I hid it in the podium. No one will notice it there." "Are you sure?" I asked. "Yeah. It was really dusty under there. No one's cleaned it out in ages." "Good," said Blessing. She tried to give Travis an evil look like Susan always does, but he didn't even notice. "I'm going in now. Have fun!" She squeezed my hand and was gone. "Ladies and gentlemen," Mrs. Collins said, working her way down the line straightening the boys' ties. When she got to Travis there wasn't a tie to straighten. "I'm going to give the signal to Principal Farbinger and he's going to introduce you. Good luck." Mrs. Collins was making a big deal out of nothing. Sure, we had to be introduced and we had one minute to say what homecoming means to us, but most of the assembly was going to be kids from the high school who came over to get us all excited about the game. The high school Varsity Football Rally was already in there leading a cheer and the dance team was going to perform after our dumb little speeches. We were hardly the highlight of the assembly. Nothing to be concerned about, I told myself again. "Hey, Amanda," Brendan whispered from his place next to Debbie. I looked up and he caught my eye and gave me a wink. Before I could even smile back, Debbie whispered something in his ear and his attention was back on her. I have to admit that Brendan looked fabulous. I'd never really seen him in this light before. He wore a really nice dark-blue suit and a striped tie. Usually I think of him in dirty sweats during practice or wearing his baseball uniform. Actually, until lately, I never really thought about him much at all. All the guys looked pretty nice. Even Travis looked okay. He wore slacks and a sweater instead of a suit, but he still looked dressed up. Despite the fact that Travis is an arrogant guy, I was still glad I got paired up with him because he's as tall as I am in my high heels. We heard Mr. Farbinger announce Jackie's name and she and Phil disappeared through the doors. By the time Kimberly was introduced I was shaking in my shoes. At least I would have been if my shoe wasn't stuck to my foot with nail polish. "And finally, Amanda Whitmore, escorted by Travis Hamilton." We walked through the doorway and into the bright auditorium. The stage stood miles away and it didn't seem to be getting any closer. Just like in a nightmare. I tried to walk gracefully with my shoulders straight, but it was hard to keep from slipping on the smooth floor. I held tightly onto Travis' arm and my other arm hung stiffly by my side. When we got to the stairs I lifted my skirt the way my mother had shown me. I'd ended up taking a few crash courses from my mother after all. She'd been a lot nicer than Susan too. Finally I was in my chair and Travis stood behind me. Jackie gave her speech first. Then Debbie. Then Ashley. All three speeches were almost identical. Every one of them resembled the sample speech that Mrs. Collins had read to us at one of our meetings. Kimberly started her speech with, "Now that we have reached our final year at Maywood Junior High, we ninth graders feel a special bond with the school." I saw that Mr. Farbinger was getting ants in his pants. In fact, the way the kids were wriggling around in their seats, the auditorium seemed to have turned into an ant farm. If you don't count the kids who were sleeping in their chairs. The clapping and the cheers when Kimberly finished weren't loud enough to wake the janitor who was snoozing in his chair backstage, but they were loud enough to get Farbinger out of his seat which meant I was up to bat. "And finally, our last nominee for homecoming princess, Amanda Whitmore." He sounded so relieved when he said "last" that I was surprised he didn't add "and make it quick!" Mr. Farbinger slumped back into his chair looking like he was about eighty instead of fifty. Well, hopefully my speech will cheer him up. "Hello," I said, my heart in my throat. It wasn't giving the speech itself that I was worried about. It was the deviation from the norm. Would I get in trouble? And also, standing around in this stupid dress with my hair so frou frou made me feel really self conscious too. "For those of you who don't know me, my name is Amanda Whitmore. Of course, those of you who are still awake heard Mr. Farbinger introduce me." A tiny wave of laughter rolled over the audience. Good, break the ice with a little joke. "I must say that I was very surprised to be nominated for homecoming princess. Mostly because you're much more likely to find me playing football than wearing a dress and high heels." I could hear the shakiness in my voice steadying out. I'm pretty good at speeches. My confidence level was going up even though my nylons were inching their way down. "Personally, I haven't been able to figure out what long dresses and princesses have to do with homecoming, but since it's a tradition I decided to give it my best shot. I got this long dress and high heels." I stuck my foot out so everyone could see my high heels. "But to tell you the truth, I really don't feel comfortable in them. In fact, I want to show you what I feel more comfortable wearing." I heard someone wolf whistle. I hoped they didn't think I was going to strip or something. I reached into the podium for the bag. My hand moved over the bottom of the cupboard. All I felt was a thick layer of dust. I couldn't feel the bag anywhere. The pause was deafening. Finally I just bent down and looked in the cupboard but there wasn't anything in there. I looked at Travis questioningly but he just shrugged his shoulders at me. The audience began to giggle. "Just a second. Just one second. I'll be right back." I thudded heavily over to where Travis stood behind my chair. "Where is it?" I whispered fiercely. The other nominees twisted in their chairs to look down the line at us. "I don't know. It was there. I swear!" he whispered back. "Go look backstage. I'll try to fake it." Travis snuck off into the wings and I schlumped across the stage in my pumps. I saw Mr. Farbinger rise from his seat. Maybe he was going to cut me off. At this point I almost wished he would. "Well, I umm... I was going to show you something so you would get a better understanding of who I am but-" "Amanda," hissed Travis. The crowd laughed loudly. I ignored him. "I seem to have lost—" I tried to continue. "Amanda!" "What?" I whirled on Travis to see why he was bugging me just in time to see Jimmy's football jersey sailing my way. The crowd burst out laughing. The jersey landed six feet away from me and when I bent over to pick it up my dad's football flew right over my head, hit the stage and bounced into the audience. Everyone was laughing so hard the auditorium seemed to shake. I saw two kids actually fall out of their chairs. Mr. Farbinger, who had just sat down again jumped up out of his seat. We got to the podium at the same time. "I really don't think this is appropriate," he bellowed into the microphone. The audience immediately tried to stifle their laughter. "Amanda, sit down. We'll consider your speech finished." "No, wait, Mr. Farbinger. Really," I pleaded, "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. Can I please finish my speech?" Mr. Farbinger glowered at me. "Make it snappy." He sat down and I looked out over the audience, trying not to laugh. "That wasn't supposed to happen," I said as seriously as I could. The audience busted up again and I felt my mouth quivering into a smile. "What I really wanted to say is that homecoming means this to me." I held up Jimmy's black and red football jersey for everyone to see. Then I slipped it on over my dress. "And the football means homecoming to me too. Wherever it is." Someone in the front row tossed it up to me and I caught it easily. "Homecoming is simply supposed to be fun. As my grandpa always says, ABOVE ALL, HAVE FUN! Thank you."
I struggled back to my seat and everyone cheered. This time even the janitor woke up. Whether they were cheering for me because they liked me or because I made a fool of myself, I didn't really want to know. Chapter Sixteen "Maybe Mom's right. Maybe letting the packers do it tomorrow does make more sense." "Do you really want strangers going through your personal things?" asked Blessing. "No. You're right. That would be gross." I looked around my room. It was totally trashed and this time it wasn't because I was being a slob, but because I was trying to pack. The trouble was I just got started and I already wanted to quit. "Do you think we're going to get in trouble for skipping soccer today?" I asked. "Perhaps. But it couldn't be helped, could it?" "I guess not." We'd had to skip. It was Wednesday already and tomorrow the packers would be here. If I wasn't totally packed, Mom was going to send them into my room. My first problem was that I'd been putting off the packing. The second problem was that I'd lived in this room my whole life. In the back of my closet I'd found Barbie dolls that I didn't even know I still had. In fact, I don't even remember playing with dolls. I also found my first baseball mitt. I decided to have it framed in one of those shadow box things. Or maybe bronzed. Either way, I was keeping that for sure. "Maybe I do have enough stuff for a garage sale." "We could have it at my house. Your mum would never know." "Good idea." Blessing put down her sketch book and moved some of the empty boxes out of the way. "Here, I'll help you. The best way to do this is to do it quickly so you can't think about it." "Okay, what should I do?" "Rubbish here, stuff to move to the new house there, and garage sale stuff here. You pull it out of your closet, say where it goes and hand it to me." We worked like that for about two hours and things really started to clear up. In the end we still had a lot of boxes of junk, but at least the stuff I was taking with me was packed neatly. Blessing's good at things like that. "Do you want to eat something or tackle your clothes now?" asked Blessing. "Let's do my clothes. We're almost finished." "Same routine?" "Okay." I pulled things out of the closet and handed them to Blessing. She packed them with the hangers still in them. That way I'd just have to hang them up in my new closet. "Garbage," I said, handing Blessing the red dress. "Yeah, right." "Okay, garage sale." "You can't sell a brand new dress at a garage sale." "Why not? I'm never going to wear it again?" "You never know." "Oh, yes I do." Blessing ignored me and packed the dress with the rest of the clothes. "When are you going shopping to get the white dress for homecoming?" "Don't remind me," I grumbled. "Don't be silly, love. You wanted to win, remember?" "I don't mind winning. I'm glad I beat Debbie at her own game. But I still think walking around on a football field in October in a white dress is really lame." "It will go really fast. Then we'll go to the dance and have a blast." "If you say so." I still couldn't believe I'd won. I figured everyone would think I was just a clown. Instead when they'd announced the winner on Monday, it had been me. I pulled the last of my clothes out of the closet and tried to change the subject. "Did you bring your camera?" "Need you ask?" I guess I didn't. She never travels anywhere without her camera. Whenever we go anywhere it always takes twice as long as it should because we always have to stop for her to take pictures. She's going to be a really great photographer and artist some day so I don't mind waiting around. "Should we move all this junk out into the hall?" "Unless you want it in the pictures." We lugged everything out into the hallway. Blessing tried using her tripod from the doorway, but my room was too small for her to get enough distance. "I'll do my best," she said, "but you're going to have to piece the photos together." "That's okay." Blessing was photographing my room with all my sports posters on the walls. It had taken me years to perfect the big display. My dad's always teasing me about not being able to see what color the walls are, and he's right, you can't. It was going to be sad to take them all down. "Well, love, that's the best I can do. I think they'll turn out all right." Blessing snapped the lens cover back on her camera. I sighed heavily. "We might as well start taking them down." "What are you going to do with them?" "I don't know. I was going to pack them away, but maybe I should just sell them at the garage sale." "I doubt you'll get very much for them. I think you should save them." "You're probably right. Some of them might be collectors someday." The ones that were taped up came down pretty easily, but the ones with tacks in them were harder to get down without ripping. Some of the tacks had been stuck in the walls for years. Finally we tried the old trick of slipping a piece of string between the head of the tack and the wall and pulling. Blessing was working on getting my Ryne Sandburg poster down when all of sudden she started screaming. "It's a HUGE, horrendous spider!" And it was. It was one of those big, black hairy ones. I really hate those. Still, I never smash them. "Don't let it get away," I shouted to Blessing as I ran out to the kitchen. "I'll get it." I came running back with a drinking glass. The spider still hadn't moved. Blessing's screaming had probably petrified it. I put the glass over the top of it. It just sat there. Usually they jump into the glass when you do that. "Watch this." I made a fist and thumped on the wall as hard as I could. The spider fell off the wall and landed on the inside of the glass. Quickly I tipped it up and ran out to the front door, shaking the glass to keep him from crawling up the side. "I cannot believe you did that," Blessing said, when I returned. "What was I supposed to do? Kill it?" "Of course not. You were supposed to get your father." I just laughed. We kept working on the posters but Blessing was really being cautious. She'd take one tack out and the peek behind it to make sure there weren't any more spiders. Sometime around seven my dad brought us a pizza. We ate it in silence. I just didn't feel very good about having to move and I guess Blessing could sense my mood. I'd really been putting off the packing because I kept hoping the builders would call and give us another reprieve. Now it was really happening. We were really moving. I guess I should have felt good about the fact that I'd still be going to the same school. After all, my mother probably had no qualms about moving us to the other side of town. I knew I should feel lucky, but I didn't. It felt like my childhood was over. By nine o'clock the walls were bare, the boxes were stacked up against one wall and the only thing on my floor was my backpack and Blessing's school stuff. "We did it!" Blessing sounded really pleased with herself until she looked at me and saw my face. "There's no going back now." I sat down glumly on the bed. "Oh, Amanda, don't feel so bad. Just think of that lovely walk-in closet in your new room." That's exactly what I was thinking of. "It just seems like everything's changing so fast. A few weeks ago it was just a boring old summer. Now my whole life is a shambles." I tried to keep the tears back but I just couldn't. They streamed down my cheeks and I put my head in my hands. Blessing sat down next to me on the bed and put her arms around my shoulders. "What do you feel so bad about, love?" "Everything. Moving, school, Brendan." "What about Brendan?" "I think I like him," I wailed. "That's okay, isn't it?" "No!" "Why not?" "Because of Debbie." How could I explain to Blessing that it's one thing to beat Debbie at homecoming but a whole other thing to try and steal her boyfriend? I would hate that if someone tried to do that to me. "What about Debbie?" "Oh, never mind." "Come on, you can tell me." "It just doesn't seem right to try and get her boyfriend." "But Amanda, Brendan likes you." "How do you know?" "I just do."
I wanted to believe Blessing. If she was right, then I wouldn't exactly be stealing him away. Still, I didn't know what to do. I tried to dry my tears on my sleeve. I just wouldn't think about it. Like Scarlett O'Hara in Gone with the Wind. I'd think about it tomorrow. Chapter Seventeen Dad had tickets for the PSU football game on Saturday night. Mom was more than happy to let us go. Between the packers and the movers everything had gone really smoothly and she was looking forward to relaxing in our new hot tub. I guess she was pretty tired from watching all those people work all day. I was glad to get out of the house. Unfortunately, I'd have to go back after the game and sleep in my new room. I'd wanted Blessing to stay the night with me, but she was spending the weekend with her Dad in Los Angeles. By the time the movers had come to take my stuff to the new house I'd stopped feeling sorry for myself. At least about moving. I could still ride my bike down to my old neighborhood and check it out whenever I wanted. And I'd be a lot closer to school now. Maybe I could get an extra ten minutes of sleep every morning. I shivered under my jacket and was glad I'd brought the blanket with us. At least it wasn't raining. That's always a plus. It was actually a great night for football. Cold and clear. The bright stadium lights gave the field an ethereal glow and I felt right at home. "So how's school?" asked my dad. We settled into our seats in the press box. "Who wants to know?" I retorted. "What's that supposed to mean? I want to know." "I just figured you're on some sort of spy mission for Mom." "Hey, I can do my own spying, you know. I don't need orders from your mother." "School's fine." "Good. I'm glad to hear it." I guess the effort it took to get that information out of me wasn't worth the trouble. He gave up after that and we talked football until the game started. Then we watched. At half time I was walking around stretching my legs when I ran into Brendan in front of the concession stand. Instinctively I looked around for Debbie and her friends. "Who are you here with?" I asked, cautiously. "My dad. How about you?" "Me too. I mean, my dad." I sounded so stupid. We stood there awkwardly, looking at each other. "They're playing really well, aren't they?" I said. "Yeah, not too bad. I brought my binoculars so I could see. We're up in the nosebleed section." There were four empty seats in our box. Maybe he and his dad would want to sit with us. I wondered how I could work that. I couldn't just ask him though. That would be pretty forward. Just then my dad came out looking for me. "Oh, there you are, Amanda. I was wondering what happened to you." "Dad, you remember Brendan, don't you? We play on the same baseball team." "Second base, right?" "Third." "Oh, right." Pause. Giant pause. Oh, God. What do I say? I didn't want Brendan to get away. It was the only chance I'd ever have to talk to him without Debbie standing over us. "Where are you sitting?" Dad asked Brendan. "Nosebleed." "You should come down and sit with us in our box," suggested Dad. "There was an empty seat, wasn't there, Amanda?" "Four." "Right. Four seats." "That'd be great. I'm with my dad though." "Bring him along. Dad's are okay, right Amanda?" My dad squeezed my shoulder. "Yeah, sure." Why couldn't I think of anything exciting to say? When the second half started we were all sitting in the box. Brendan's dad and my dad were already talking pro football. I pretended to watch the game. I don't know what Brendan was doing. "That's my brother, on the sidelines," he said. "Oh, really? I didn't know he played for PSU." "He's just a freshman, so mostly he watches." Another pause. I tried to focus on the game but all I could think of was what to say next. Finally I tried familiar ground. "My Cubbies won their last game of the season." "My Braves are in the playoffs," he countered. "So what's new? The Braves always choke in the end," I teased him. "At least they get to the end," he teased me back. "Hey, at least my Cubbies don't get my hopes up. They let me know right off they're not going to win." We both laughed. I guess Brendan probably knew that I wasn't seriously picking on his Braves. Actually, I kind of like the Braves. I always end up rooting for them in the end anyway. Especially since my Cubs are usually so bad. It turned out baseball was the right topic to bring up because within a matter of minutes we were into a spirited debate over the upcoming World Series. When the third quarter ended I realized I hadn't been watching the game at all. PSU was losing now. I don't think Brendan had even noticed that PSU was behind either. I wonder when that happened? "Want to stretch?" he asked me. "Sure." "It's a little warmer in here," said Brendan, blowing on his hands, as we stepped inside the concession area. "I'm freezing." "I'd share my blanket with you but I don't think my dad would like that." Oh, my God! I can't believe I said that. How totally embarrassing. I could feel my face turning bright red. It was really noisy inside and either Brendan didn't hear me or he chose to ignore me because he didn't respond at all. "You want something to drink?" he asked. "Hot cider." "I'll get it." I stood there waiting for him, dying inside. How could I say something that stupid? I could only hope that he didn't hear me. He must have missed it. He couldn't just ignore a comment like that, could he? The fourth quarter went by just as fast. Brendan and I talked about our baseball team and what our chances were now that some of the good players had moved up to the high school. We talked a little about homecoming too, but only the game. We both stayed away from the princess aspect of it. "Are you tired, Amanda?" asked my dad, as the four of us headed out. "Not really, why?" "Jack and I thought maybe we could all go out for a beer." "Brendan and I can't drink beer, Dad." Dad laughed. "You know what I mean. You two can have sodas. We'll go to a restaurant." "Sure, why not?" We were going out with Brendan and his dad? How cool! I just couldn't believe my luck. Leave it to my dad to make friends so fast. We agreed to meet them at the pizza place by our house and then we pushed through the crowd towards our car. "You and Brendan seem to get along rather well," said my Dad. I buckled my seat belt and tried to ignore the tone in his voice. "We have similar interests." "I can see that." "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, defensively. "Nothing. Nothing at all."
I could see him smirking in the dark though. He thinks he knows everything. Oh, well, I guess I can't keep my whole life from my parents. No matter how hard I try. They're way too nosy. Chapter Eighteen "What do you want?" Mom asked for the hundredth time since we got to the mall. "I don't know. This is so stupid." "Look, Amanda, I've tried to be patient, but I've just about had it." "Well, no one asked you to come," I muttered under my breath. "What's that supposed to mean? You'd rather be shopping for your homecoming dress with your girlfriends?" "No, I just wish that Debbie had won and I could forget all about this." "Debbie probably does too. To tell you the truth, if I'd known you were going to act like such a spoiled brat, I would have wanted Debbie to win too." I turned away from Mom and rifled through a rack of formal dresses. I guess Mom likes Debbie better than she likes me. "Amanda, honey, I think we're just tired and hungry. Let's go get something to eat." I looked at Mom standing there in her perfectly put together outfit. Little worry lines showed faintly around her carefully made-up eyes. I wondered if maybe I was the cause of her wrinkles. "I guess you're right. I am hungry." If Mom could make an effort, I could too. The mall seemed crowded for a Tuesday evening. I tried not to stare at some kids with pink hair and leather dog collars. You see a lot of kids like that downtown, but they don't hang out in this part of town that much. There's only one weird hairdo in our school. Susan. As we walked through the lower level we talked about a movie that we both wanted to see. I could tell Mom was being careful not to bring up homecoming. I certainly wasn't going to bring it up if I didn't have to. Some of the kids at school had wanted me to quit. Not Debbie and her friends either. Some of the other kids who thought I didn't take it seriously enough. Surprisingly, Debbie had pretty much steered clear of me. She still called me Grace when our paths crossed, but her group had stopped making me late to class. Naturally I'd thought of dropping out when I heard people were opposing me. But then I decided not to back down. After all, school was supposed to be a little fun and that's all I'd meant to do at the pep assembly anyway. Brendan had told me he thought I'd done a good job even though it didn't turn out the way I'd planned. That made me feel pretty good. "Let's eat here," said Mom, stopping in front of the health restaurant. There are only two real restaurants at the mall. All the rest of the choices are in the food court. I know Mom prefers restaurants so I said okay. The waitress took our order for chicken salads and left me and Mom facing each other. I toyed with my water glass wondering what we were going to talk about for the next half hour. "Is everything okay?" Mom finally asked me. "What do you mean?" "I don't know. You just seem sort of down lately. Is it the new house?" "Not really." At first I was upset about the house, but now I knew I didn't have a choice. Besides, I liked having my own bathroom. Mom had bought me some prints of baseball paintings to hang on my wall too. They were cool. They had frames and everything. Only two per wall, but it was nice. "Then what is it? You seem really on edge whenever we're together." Oh great. Now we had to talk about how we get along. That was the last thing I wanted to talk about. Mom sat there looking at me like she was waiting for something. Finally I said, "I hate how we fight all the time." "Do we fight all the time?" She looked genuinely surprised. "Well, not exactly fight, but bicker. You know..." I trailed off. "Not really." She did look a little perplexed. "About clothes, and my hair, and modeling." "What about modeling?" Now she looked really confused. "You know. About you wanting me to be a model." There. I said it. It was finally out. She could stop hinting about it now. She could stop pretending. We both know that her secret goal in life is to make me a model. Now it was out in the open. "For goodness sakes, Amanda! I don't want you to be a model." "You don't?" I couldn't believe it. What was she up to? Reverse psychology? Well, it wasn't going to work on me. Nice try Mom. "No, of course I don't want you to be a model. You'd be a terrible model." "What?" "Don't get me wrong, honey. You're certainly beautiful enough to be a model." "Then why'd you say I'd be a terrible model?" Something was really fishy here. What was she up to? "Honey, you don't have the attitude to be a model. Or the heart." "What do you mean?" "Models have to love to be looked at. All my models at the agency love clothes and make-up and hair styles. They love having a fuss made over them. Most of all, they love being photographed. You don't like any of that." Just then the waitress brought our salads. I buttered my roll. "That's exactly why I don't want to be a model." "Who said you did?" "Well, no one, but you always seem to be trying to lead me in that direction." "I have no idea what you're talking about." "Really? You're not trying to trick me or something?" "Of course not. I've never wanted you to model." "So why did I think you did?" "I've always told you that you look like a model. Maybe you misunderstood me." "Maybe." "Maybe it's because of that time when you were ten and I offered you that job doing the Smith and Smith catalogue." "I don't remember that. What did I say?" "Your exact words were, 'On Saturday? No way! There's a game at the park and I'm pitching.'" We both laughed and suddenly I felt very, very hungry. Hungrier than I'd felt all week. I dug into my salad and thought about what Mom had said about me being a terrible model. I knew she was right and I was so glad that we both saw it that way. I felt an enormous weight sprout wings and fly off into the sunset. "Mom, do you ever regret giving up modeling?" "What are you talking about? I still model all the time." "Just local stuff though. Don't you ever miss New York or Paris or Milan?" "Actually, I think I've got it pretty good." She put down her salad fork and looked right at me. "I went to some pretty interesting places when I was younger. I made enough money to start my own business. I've got you and your father and a brand new house. What more could I ask for?" I smiled at her but I couldn't help wondering if she was just being nice when she said that I made her happy. I never do the things she wants me to do. I always wear my hair in a braid, I play soccer instead of trying out for rally, I only became homecoming princess by accident. "Sometimes I think I'm a big disappointment to you." "How can you say that? I'm very proud of you, sweetie." "But I don't wear my hair loose or put on the make-up you buy for me." "Honey, I don't really care about the make-up. I just get carried away sometimes." "It's not just that. It's the clothes thing too. It's not that I hate your taste in clothes..." I struggled for the right words. "It's more that, you know..." I motioned to my chest and felt my face flush. "Oh." Mom concentrated on eating her salad again so I wouldn't get too embarrassed. Of course, it was too late for that already, but it was nice of her to try. "I'm sure at fourteen it is kind of awkward being the one that all the boys notice," she said. "I wish I could help you there, but I guess you'll just have to put up with it for a while. Eventually everyone else will catch up with you and it won't be such a big deal." I hoped she was right. "That's why I like my jeans and sweatshirts. I can hide under my baseball cap and people don't notice me if I wear my hair in a braid." "That makes sense, but honey, make sure you don't hide for too long. Being comfortable is one thing, but hiding is another. You might miss out on some of the good stuff while you're busy protecting yourself from what you're afraid of." "I did kind of like how I looked in that red dress. And having my hair down was kind of a nice change." "I think you looked nice in that dress too. Even with the jersey on." "Thanks," I said laughing. Suddenly I realized what Mom had said. "What do you mean, with the jersey on? I didn't tell you the disastrous details." "Mothers know everything." She smiled mysteriously. "You were there, weren't you?" "Come on, let's go find you a white dress." She pulled her money out to pay the bill and I saw the red and black program from the assembly tucked in her purse.
"Here, catch," she said, pretending to throw a football at me. Chapter Nineteen I sat crowded around two tables with the rest of the homecoming court and four large pizzas. I glanced around the empty cafeteria and checked my watch against the big clock. Seven o'clock and not sign of Travis. My stomach felt queasy. "Where's your escort?" asked a guy with cheese hanging out of his mouth. "He went to the kick off," I fibbed. "He's not going to stand you up, right?" asked another escort. "Of course not," Queen Michelle said. She smiled at me reassuringly but I wasn't very reassured. According to Mrs. Collins, Travis was stuck being my escort. He didn't like it any better than I did but he said he'd come. Susan had threatened him with a little extra blackmail just to make sure. He'd shown up for the rehearsal yesterday with a smile on his face. It was that smile that made me afraid he wouldn't be here tonight. He seemed way too cheerful. "Don't worry," Princess Letitia said as we cleaned up the pizza boxes and threw them in the trash. "He'll show." In the locker room I inspected my stuff to make sure it was all there. One white dress, three pairs of nylons, some clear nail polish, and a lipstick. Mom had already done my hair and make-up so all I had to do was touch up my lips. "Your hair looks great," said Michelle. "Did you have it done at a salon?" "My mom did it. She's a model so she knows how to do a lot of hair styles. Sometimes you have to do your own hair," I explained. "A model? Isn't she kind of old to be a model?" asked Princess Katie. "Not really. Besides, she mostly runs her own modeling agency." Why was I talking about Mom? I couldn't believe I was going on about her career. I guess I was just nervous around the high school girls. "Your mom's an agent? I'd like to meet her," said Michelle. "I've done some modeling." She posed model-like. That's exactly why I don't talk about Mom's career. It was definitely time to change the subject. "Can someone help me with these buttons?" "Sure." Letitia started buttoning the tiny buttons down the back of my dress. "Man, there are a lot." "I know. Do you think it looks too much like a wedding dress? It's hard to find a white one that doesn't." "Unless you get one like Michelle's," laughed Katie. Michelle strutted around the locker room in a white low cut cocktail dress. And to think I was worried about showing too much cleavage. My dad would have a heart attack if he ever saw me in a dress like that. When my buttons were done Letitia helped me adjust the rhinestone tiara that I had to wear. I looked in the mirror and for a second I saw my mother looking back at me. I'd never had my hair up in a French roll before, but I'd seen my mother's hair like that dozens of times. Mr. Reid rapped loudly on the thick door. "Okay, ladies. Time to go." We grabbed our long coats and Michelle brought a white umbrella along that she'd bought specifically for the game. "I hope you don't need that," Letitia said. "It wasn't raining when we came in." "Who knows?" Michelle said. "It always rains at homecoming." "Except when it snows." Katie shuddered. We all laughed nervously. As far as I could remember it had never snowed at homecoming. It's too warm in Oregon in October. But when we stepped out into the cool evening, I wondered. "No sign of your escort," Cheese Mouth informed me. "I'm sure he's just watching the game," I said, not sure at all. I saw the boys give each other a look. "Oooh! Yuck! My feet are getting soaked," complained Michelle. "At least it's not raining." "Maybe not, but it's standing water between here and the field. What a pain." "She's the pain," I heard Michelle's escort whisper to Cheese Mouth. By the time we got to the edge of the track that surrounded the football field my feet were soaking wet. Oh, well. They're going to get a whole lot wetter when I step out onto the stupid field. I tried to guess how long we'd be stuck out here. Hopefully not more than fifteen minutes. We'd probably all freeze to death if it was longer than that. The referee blew his whistle and the first half was over. We were losing twenty-seven to nothing. The marching band hurried out onto the muddy field playing the fight song. A lot of people in the bleachers made their way down to the concession stands. I searched frantically for Travis. I was sure he'd show up now. "Boo!" I jumped. Susan stood behind me with a girl from her art class. The girl's new this year and I think her name is Jessica, but I don't really know her. I was surprised to see her with Susan though. She's hardly Susan's type. All hearts and flowers. That sort of thing. Susan's exact opposite. "Hey, Amanda, how's it going? asked Susan. "You look great. Except your feet. Let me see your dress." I opened my coat so they could see. I felt like a flasher. "Where's Blessing?" I asked. "She went to the loo." "The bathroom," explained Jessica. "I know." Who was this girl? I do know what the loo is. I have been Blessing's best friend for about seven years now. I know all her British terms. "Well, it looks like you royalty might just make it out there before the big storm." Susan studied the sky. "Of course, you may get sucked up by the mud anyway." "Thanks. Susan, have you seen my parents?" "They're down in front, camera poised." She looked around. "Where's Travis?" "I wish I knew." "What do you mean? He's not here?" "Do you see him?" "What are you going to do?" asked Jessica. "I don't know. I really don't know. But I do know one thing for sure. I am absolutely, positively, not going out there by myself!" "I'm going to kill him. First I'm going to find him, then I'm going to wring his scrawny little neck." Susan shoved her way into the crowd and Jessica followed. "Good luck, Amanda," called Jessica as they disappeared into the masses. "Okay, girls and boys. This is it," Mr. Reid said as the band crowded off the field. "Time to give up your coats." I gave him my warm coat and shivered in the brisk evening air. I wondered if I could sue the school if I got pneumonia? Probably. What was I going to do? I couldn't just let them announce me and then not go out. And I couldn't tell them not to announce me because the announcer's booth was way up above the stands. If they introduced me and I didn't go out, it would throw everyone else off. They'd never introduce Letitia because they'd be waiting for me. We worked our way through the crowd to the sidelines. Someone ran out with a roll of red butcher paper and laid it out like a red carpet leading right into the middle of the field. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please?" The announcer's voice rolled over the P.A. system. "Maywood Senior High is proud to present this year's Homecoming Court. Introducing, from Maywood Junior High, the ninth grade homecoming princess, escorted by Travis Hamilton, Princess Amanda Whitmore." Escorted by who? Nobody, that's who! As if the entire school year hadn't been terrible enough apparently it was all leading up to this moment! A drop of rain the size of a quarter hit me on the arm. I looked around furiously for Travis one more time. I had no choice. I stepped out onto the red butcher paper.
Alone. Chapter Twenty With my first step I could feel the mushiness of the ground under the paper. I took another cautious step. For a second I forgot all about Travis because I was concentrating so hard on not falling down. My heel poked a hole in the paper and I struggled to free myself gracefully. Suddenly a strong arm linked itself through mine. I looked up to see Brendan smiling at me. "Walk on your tiptoes," he suggested. "And lean on me." "Where did you come from?" "Susan found me instead of Travis. He'd better hope she doesn't find him." Somehow we managed to pick our way out to the end of the paper and into the middle of the field. I turned and waved at the crowd and they clapped politely. I heard a few kids from the junior high yelling my name. Then the announcer introduced Letitia and Cheese Mouth. I planted my feet and leaned a little on Brendan, more for warmth than stability. I shivered when a large drop of rain hit me on the back of the neck. "You look really great," Brendan said. "I can't believe Travis stood you up." "I'm just glad you showed up. I never would have made it out here without you." Letitia and Cheese Mouth arrived at the end of the paper carpet. She turned, smiled and waved. "This is ridiculous," she said through her smile. We all smiled and nodded. We watched Katie and Bill trudge down the paper carpet. Katie's spike heels kept getting stuck in the paper so finally she bent over and took them off. Some guys in the stands wolf whistled at her. Drops of rain spattered down harder and speckled the red butcher paper with dark wet spots. Queen Michelle put up her umbrella. When Katie and Bill finally made it to us Brendan stepped off into the mud so there'd be room for us girls. So did Bill. I noticed Cheese Mouth held his ground. I guess his shoes were something special. The rain beat a steady drum and Katie waved to the crowd. There were only a few dry spots left on the paper when Michelle was introduced. The crowd cheered really loudly for her, but I think it was more for her dress. Or lack of it. There was some sort of commotion going on at Michelle's end of the paper too. "She's not going to come out here!" Letitia shouted. "She's so stuck up. She just doesn't want to get her dress all messed up," added Katie. "I don't blame her," said Cheese Mouth. "Quit being such a baby," Bill told him. Michelle turned to the crowd and gave them a big Miss America wave. A gust of wind caught her umbrella and turned it inside out. We all laughed. "Well, I've had just about enough of this. I'm going in now." Katie and Bill hurried down the soggy path. Suddenly there was a flash of lightning and the skies opened up in true Oregon style. Rain pelted us from every direction. Cheese Mouth sprinted for cover, leaving Letitia standing there in the middle of the field. She stormed after him calling him names. I think she was probably more angry that he left her there than at the rain. Brendan and I tried to hurry after her. "Brendan! My shoes. I walked right out of them." "I'll get them. Don't worry." He bent over and tried to pull them out of the ground but the heels were stuck and they were really slippery. The rain gods dumped bucket after bucket on us. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Brendan tugged at my shoes and lost his balance on the sloppy ground. I tried to help him up, but I could hardly see him through the downpour. I got a slippery grip on his arm, but instead of helping him up, I pulled myself down. "Ahhg!" I shouted, sitting down hard on the soft ground. "This is so gross!" "I'm sorry Amanda!" he shouted at me over the roar of the storm. For a second I felt like crying and then I just busted up laughing. Brendan's face was streaked with mud and I knew I didn't look much cleaner. When Brendan saw me laughing he broke up too. "Come on," I said, gasping for breath. "Let's get out of here. With the luck I'm having we might get struck by lightning." Laughing, Brendan helped me up. The paper had turned into a slippery river of red ink so we stomped through the muddy grass in hopes of better traction. When we finally made it to the edge of the field my mother was there with an umbrella and my father wrapped me in an itchy wool blanket. Brendan walked me to the girl's locker room door. "I'll see you at the dance, okay?" he said. "Sure. And Brendan? Thanks a lot." "No problem. But there is one thing." "What's that?" "You could have shared that blanket with me, your dad's still back there watching the game." I felt my face turn bright red. Brendan laughed and I ducked into the locker room quickly. So he had heard me at the PSU game! But I guess he didn't really mind. There wasn't anything I could do about it now anyway. An hour later I walked into the dance with Blessing, Susan, and Jessica. I was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt with my hair in a wet braid down my back, and the dumb rhinestone crown on my head. It was the best I could do, considering. We scoped the place out, Susan looking for Jimmy, me looking for Brendan, Jess and Blessing looking for cute guys. A slow song came on and about two thirds of the kids left the dance floor. That's when I saw them. Brendan had his arms around her waist and Debbie had her arms linked around his neck. He was obviously telling her something and she was smiling up at him. "I hate this song," I said. "I'm going to the bathroom." "Do you want me to come with you?" asked Blessing. "No, I'll be right back." I locked myself in a stall. At least they had stalls at the high school. Who was I kidding? Sure I was homecoming princess. Big deal. Look how well that had turned out! Debbie was small and cute and everyone liked her. Especially Brendan. I heard someone come into the bathroom. I'm okay, I told myself. Pull it together. I don't want to ruin everyone else's night. I took a deep breath and unlocked the stall. "Hi, Grace. You were really good tonight." Debbie put on a fresh coat of lipstick. I wondered if Brendan was wearing what she'd had on her lips before. "Not tonight, Debbie, please." I opened my eyes really wide to keep the tears from falling. "No, really. You were great. I would have cried if that happened to me." "Are you serious?" "Yeah, I'm serious. Look, I know I've been giving you a hard time lately, but it's just that, you know, Brendan seems to like you and I guess I felt a little jealous." I couldn't believe my ears. The queen of mean was admitting she was jealous? "Why are you telling me this?" She shrugged and poufed up her hair with her hands. "I don't know. I guess 'cause you were going to go out there without an escort. You're tougher than I would have guessed. I never would have gone out there alone." "I guess I'll take that as a compliment." "Because of that, and also because you laughed when you fell down. I would have been really upset to ruin my dress but you just took it all in stride." "Well, I'm getting used to ruining dresses," I joked. "What are you doing hiding in here?" she asked. "Brendan's been looking all over for you." "Yeah, right." "What do you mean?" She sprayed some perfume behind her ears. "I mean, I saw you two dancing a few minutes ago." "We were just talking about you. He was telling me how great you are and that I should try and be nicer to you. So I'm trying. Make sure you mention my gallant efforts when you see him." "Whatever." I wanted to believe her, but based on past performance I didn't see how I could. "Hey, stay in here if you want, but I've got to get out there. There are gorgeous guys everywhere and they don't go to junior high." "What about Brendan? I thought you two were an inseparable couple." "Get over it, Grace. A few weeks ago, I thought maybe. But Brendan and I are just friends. We've known each other our whole lives. Our families hang out together and stuff. Brendan's way too much like a brother." "What about you two holding hands? And you were wearing his letterman's jacket." "I was just trying to make you jealous, Grace." Debbie actually smiled at me. A nice smile too, not a mean one. "See you, Amanda." When I was alone, I stood there for a minute trying to take in what Debbie had said. Was she telling me the truth or was she just trying to set me up again? There was only one way to find out. I pushed my way through the pulsating crowd looking for Brendan. Rock and roll blared through the speakers and shook the gym floor. "Hey, Amanda! There you are," shouted Brendan above the noise. "I've been looking all over for you." There were four or five people dancing between us. He reached out his hand and pulled me through the dancers. The song ended and the deejay put on another slow song. "Want to dance?" he asked. "Okay." Brendan wrapped his arms around my waist and I put my arms around his neck like I'd seen all the other girls do. No one ever asks me to dance because I'm so tall. It felt really strange to stand so close to a guy. His collar was still damp from the rain. He put his mouth right next to my ear and I could feel my heart pounding. "The Braves are the best," he whispered. "Dream on," I whispered back. - THE END -
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