Class Favorite Page 17

  But then I tossed my suspicions in the ditch. I was more confused than ever, but I had to remember that this was the girl who was the only one there for me when my folks split up. Okay, so she did tell some of her friends about my parents’ split, but I hadn’t exactly told her not to. I couldn’t ignore the fact that she made that entire weekend in December All About Sara Weekend. She told me we could do anything I wanted, that we could even go to Six Flags despite the fact that it was freezing and they were doing the Holiday in the Park thing, which is lame but we love it. But all I wanted to do was watch as many movies as we could stand, so Arlene’s mom checked out four from the video store; after we watched them, she returned them and checked out four more for the next day. My eyes were killing me by the end of the weekend from staring at the TV for so long, but it was awesome because it had really gotten my mind off all the stuff that was happening at home. After that weekend I had counted myself lucky to have such a great best friend.

  How could I be expected to have fun at the party knowing Arlene was working her butt off trying to control those two screaming brats? And that once she put them in bed, she’d watch a really horrible movie alone? I’d tried watching Catwoman alone over spring break, and it only made me more depressed. When I watched bad movies alone, I realized they were no longer so bad, they were good—they were just bad. And knowing that Arlene would suffer through that while I was off being charming with Bowie’s hottest guy made me feel like dirt.

  Should I skip the party and go to the Medinas with Arlene?

  As I pushed through the screen door of our house, I knew the answer. I mean, who was I kidding? Despite my suspicions, Arlene was over-the-top in her niceness, and maybe I was being totally selfish, but still—it was Jason. The decision made me fully depressed, but in a way, I thought, I’m doing it for Arlene, too. You know, having enough fun for both of us. Anyway, it helped me feel one molecule better.

  When Kirstie opened her door, the smell of vanilla attacked my nostrils. It was sickly sweet, and when I stepped inside, I had to rub my nose to ward off a sneeze attack.

  “Can you believe it?” I said, kicking off my shoes by the door. “It’s like I got a temporary reprieve or something.” I pulled my bag up over my shoulder—I didn’t know what to wear, so I basically had brought everything—and followed Kirstie up the stairs to her room.

  “I can’t believe Arlene did that,” Kirstie said. I had called her as soon as I got home and told her the whole thing. “Do you think it’s because she feels guilty?”

  “Not at all. We didn’t talk about all the stuff that’s happened, but I have to tell you, I don’t think Arlene did it. Any of it. I’m going to talk to her—tomorrow, I think.”

  “Yeah, I would,” Kirstie said. “Just to make sure.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I know she’s not responsible. It’s just not in her nature. She’s my best friend, and first thing tomorrow, I’m going to make it right.”

  “Wow.” Kirstie laughed. “Well, don’t let me stop you.” For a moment she looked like she was going to say something more. But then she said, “Why don’t you take a bath? It’ll help you mellow out. My tub is huge, and I have the scrubs and bubbles and smell-good stuff. Help yourself to any of it.”

  So I did. The water was so hot, it made my skin red and my forehead sweat, but I didn’t care. I was nervous about the night, but the warmth of the enormous tub made me feel like I was wrapped in a big, comforting blanket. I closed my eyes and fell into a deep almost-sleep.

  Kirstie’s shuffling around in her room snapped me out of a fantasy I was having about Jason that involved the sun setting on a lake and Cherry Sours. The water had turned lukewarm, and the bubbles were almost gone.

  I quickly finished scrubbing and loofahing myself. When I came out, towel wrapped around me, Kirstie was shoving hangers aside in her closet

  “The bath was awesome,” I told her. “I feel all mushy and relaxed. Know what you’re going to wear?”

  “I have no idea. I have absolutely no clothes.”

  “Please,” I said. “You have the cutest stuff.” I picked up my bag and said, “Will you look at the stuff I brought and help me pick something out? Remember, this is like my Oscar night—I have to shine in every way.”

  “Is Haden Prescott your muse once again?” She picked up a couple of the things from my bag, then dropped them without interest.

  “Actually, I feel sort of like I’ve done all I can to reach my goal—I need tonight to bring it all home. Think about it: I’ve worked tirelessly on my list. I talked to Rosemary and Kayla and they actually laughed with me, not at me. People are starting to see me as a normal human being. So tonight, I need to keep up with all I’ve already done. And I’m really going to work on the confidence thing. I’m trying to be more like that in life in general—not just for the Class Fave thing.”

  “Okay,” Kirstie said. “But I want you to look beautiful on the outside. Cool?”

  And so together we ransacked her closet until we found the perfect outfit for me: these great cranberry-colored pants with casual little ties at the bottom, two-inch strappy heels, and this totally cute form-fitting sleeveless shirt with a graphic from the 19-teens. It had a sailor girl on it and it read, GEE!! I WISH I WERE A MAN! I’D JOIN THE NAVY. It was from an actual recruitment poster from, like, World War I, and it was beyond retro.

  “We’ve come a long way, baby!” I joked to Kirstie.

  “Sara. Please.” And I made a mental note to watch my nerdiness.

  We finished the outfit off with a loose chain-link belt that rested casually on my hips. Everything I had on was Kirstie’s—except my JCPenney underwear. I had picked out my sexiest, even though I knew Jason wouldn’t see them. They were kind of babyish, with a little blue flower in the middle of the bra, but they had lace on them, which made me feel sort of grown up.

  “Sara,” Kirstie said, looking over the finished me, “you look awesome. That shirt is perfect for you.” I checked myself out in the mirror again. “You should just keep it. It looks too good on you.”

  “Really? No, I can’t keep it. It’s yours.”

  “I’m telling you,” she said, “you’re hot in that shirt. How can I possibly ever wear it again knowing you could be wearing it?”

  I could feel my face beaming with pleasure, and later, as we headed to her mom’s car, the butterflies in my stomach could hardly contain themselves for the excitement of the night that was ahead. When her mom dropped us off, telling us to call her when we were ready, I stared at Jason’s house, feeling as if I couldn’t move from the spot on the sidewalk. His house was a little bigger than mine, but in a neighborhood with actual sidewalks, which somehow made it seem fancier. I took a deep breath and looked to Kirstie.

  “Ain’t nothin’ but a party,” she said. She flipped her thick black hair back over her shoulder, stood up a little straighter, and said, “So are you ready to do this or what?” She even gave me a little wink as we headed up the redbrick walk toward the front door of Jason Andersen’s home.

  Inside, I felt a sense of un-reality. I mean, there I was! I was standing in the home of the guy I’d been pining over for so long. Whether I was ready for it or not, it was really happening now. I had, in a sense, arrived.

  Saying everyone was there sort of sounds cliché, but I’m sorry—it did seem like everyone was there. I could see Rosemary and Kayla in the kitchen, and Richie was in the living room, holding Mike Spencer in a playful headlock as the guys laughed and the girls pretended to ignore them. Also in the living room were a cluster of cheerleaders watching some football types play video games. Sprinkled throughout were student council members, more athletes, and even a few honor society people. I knew who most of the people were but doubted many knew who I was, unless they knew me as that girl who blew up The Ball . . . or that girl who got the period roses . . . or the girl who dresses like Mrs. Everly. . . .

  “Oh, my gosh, Kirstie. Look at all these people. I don’t even know this ma
ny people, much less have this many friends,” I said, standing in the entryway next to Kirstie, taking in the scene. “I’m the biggest loser here,” I added pathetically.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Kirstie said, nudging me in the ribs. “You’re the coolest one here.”

  I didn’t believe that at all, but it was comforting hearing it. It gave me a little boost.

  “I guess we should mingle or something?” I knew talking to Rosemary and Kayla was one of the first things I had to do, but I’d never mingled before and wasn’t sure how to do it. Was it basically just butting into people’s conversations, but in a nice way? I was grateful Kirstie was there with me, and I looked at her for reassurance. She shook her shiny hair back from her shoulders, cocked her chin up, and started walking as if she knew exactly where she was going. I tried to do the same.

  We headed to the kitchen, where there was food, tons of it: guacamole and chips and salsa, cute little burritos the size of a roll of quarters, Cheetos, bowls of bite-size Snickers and Reese’s, a steaming Crock-Pot of queso dip. Plus tons of drinks: punch, Coke, Diet Coke, Dr Pepper, iced tea . . . Orangina. I tried not to think of Arlene.

  “I’m grabbing a drink,” Kirstie said, searching out the faces. “You want something?”

  I looked toward Rosemary and Kayla over by the guacamole and thought I’d better get on with it and make a social move. “A Diet Coke. I’m gonna get some chips.”

  Kirstie sauntered off toward the drinks as I tucked my hair behind my ear and headed to the girls. I had no idea what I was going to say to them, but I knew I wanted the night to go well on so many different levels. I didn’t just want to woo Jason; I wanted to woo everyone.

  I picked up a paper plate and napkin and moved in closer to them to eavesdrop a little, to try to find a way into their conversation.

  “I think he likes her,” Rosemary was saying. “Why else would he have said that?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Kayla sighed.

  I grabbed a handful of tortilla chips and picked up the spoon for the guac. “Oh, hey, y’all,” I said, all casual-like, as if I’d spotted them by absolute chance. “How’s it going?” I think I sounded relatively calm, but my insides were completely flipping out. There was a moment of pause, the time between my last word and their first. Those moments were only milliseconds long, but they felt like a day. I waited eagerly, nervously, wondering what would happen next.

  “Sara, hey,” Rosemary said, popping a pretzel in her mouth. “Jason said you might come. What’s up?”

  “Hey,” I answered, trying to act indifferent so they wouldn’t know that I felt like screaming with excitement. He’d been talking about me?! “He invited me the other day. Actually, after I blew up The Ball.” I snickered, remembering what a laugh that had brought the girls the other day. “I think he felt sorry for me.”

  Both girls smiled, and immediately I felt a hint of reassurance. After all, they were talking to me again. By Monday, there was no doubt that I’d be sitting with them at lunch. Coming to the party was really going to seal my fate.

  “You poor thing,” Kayla said. “Even though I’ll probably never get tired of laughing about it, I still feel so horrible that you went through all that. I think it’s cool that you did something that could never again be duplicated in the history of this school. It’ll be one of those things where you’ll always remember where you were and what you were wearing when it happened—like my granddaddy when Kennedy was shot.”

  “Remember how Sean Hurley’s little sister started shaking and screaming and she couldn’t move from her seat, she was so scared?” Rosemary reminisced.

  “I know!” Kayla exclaimed. “I heard she peed her pants.”

  “God, not those cute little pink capris? They looked adorable on her.”

  “I know,” Kayla said, shaking her head sadly. “But that’s what I heard.”

  “Tell her to send me the dry-cleaning bill,” I joked.

  Rosemary and Kayla laughed, with Rosemary lightly touching my forearm as she did. I realized I was nodding in some sort of agreement and immediately stopped before they wondered if my head was coming loose from my neck.

  “Speaking of cute clothes,” Rosemary said, turning to me as I was shoveling a chip loaded with guacamole into my mouth, “I love that shirt.”

  “Totally,” Kayla agreed through pretzel crunches. “I noticed it when you came in.”

  Rosemary pulled on the corner of the shirt, gently, to feel the fabric, I guess. It was just cotton. “Where did you get this?” she asked. “It’s too cute.”

  I didn’t want her to know it wasn’t mine. I’m not sure why. I guess it made me cooler if I had picked it out and bought it myself. So I said, “Oh, I don’t remember. Some shop in Dallas, I think.”

  “Well, it’s adorable,” Rosemary said. “‘Gee, I wish I were a man,’” she read. “Kayla, we should totally bring back the word gee, don’t you think? It’d be so Jimmy Stewart.”

  Kayla looked to me with her eyebrows raised and said, “I don’t think so.” And then she laughed, and so did I.

  “Shut up, y’all,” Rosemary said.

  “Gee, Rose,” Kayla mocked. “Don’t get so upset. Everything’s going to be swell.” And then we all laughed, and it was so completely wonderful that I was actually feeling comfortable and not all intimidated like I usually do.

  Kirstie appeared beside me, bumping me with her hip, a red plastic cup in her hand, and said hello to the girls.

  “It’s Kirstie, right?” Kayla asked. “Rosemary and I were just telling Sara how cute she looks.”

  “I know,” Kirstie said, eyeing me. “I think we got her packaged up and put together pretty nicely.” I flinched at her words, but tried not to show it.

  “Well,” Rosemary began, “she looks great. I love her top.”

  “Thanks. I gave it to her,” Kirstie said, taking a sip of her drink. Rosemary and Kayla looked from me to Kirstie. I smiled meekly.

  Finally, Rosemary turned her attention to me and said, “Actually, Sara, Jason is so excited to see you tonight.”

  “Really?” I said.

  “Yeah,” she continued. “He keeps asking us if we’ve seen you yet. I think he was worried you wouldn’t come.”

  I smiled so wide, I had to look down at my chips to keep from showing so much of my excitement.

  “Hello, ladies,” said my most favorite voice in all the world. Jason leaned between Rosemary and Kayla, his arms resting around each girl’s shoulders, which made them both smile instantly. I quickly wished I had been standing where they were. I glanced at Kirstie, who looked a little put off. “I must say, you are all looking quite lovely this evening. How’s everyone doing?” He looked from girl to girl and only glanced at me—I think. I could barely bring myself to look at him.

  Kayla ribbed him with her elbow and said, “Who do you think you are? Hugh Hefner? What’s with the smooth talk?”

  “Hey, now,” he said, cocking his eyebrow. “I’m just being a good host, making sure my guests are comfortable and having a good time.”

  “It’s really awesome, Jay,” Rosemary said, grabbing Jason’s hand that dangled from her shoulder. “And the guacamole is even better than usual, if that’s possible.”

  “It’s the secret ingredient that makes it so great,” he said, looking from Rosemary to Kayla, both still under his arms. “Hey, Sara,” he said, our eyes locking for the first time as Kayla and Rosemary discreetly unhooked themselves from his arms. Kirstie lingered for a moment, then headed off with the girls.

  “Hey,” I said, retucking my hair behind my ear.

  “I’m glad you came. I wasn’t sure if you would.”

  I wanted to say, Are you crazy? I’ve been thinking about this every moment since you brought it up, but that would have been totally lame, and besides, I think I was physically incapable of speaking. Instead, I stood there smiling, convinced I looked insane but unable to stop myself.

  “You look really good,” Jason said. “I lik
e your shirt.”

  I rubbed my hand across my belly. “Thanks,” I managed.

  “So . . . ,” he said, stepping closer to me, a little awkward on his walking cast, then leaned back against the table. “You like the guac? I made it myself. It’s the one thing I know how to make.”

  “I love guacamole,” I blurted. And then, I guess to prove to him that I meant it, I scooped some on a chip and popped it in my mouth. But I did it too fast, and a stray crumb went soaring to the back of my throat, starting me in on a coughing fit. My eyes stung with tears as I hacked uncontrollably. I could feel the tiny crumb lodged in the cave of my throat, but it seemed that no matter how hard I coughed, it refused to budge.

  “Are you okay?” Jason asked as he patted my back. I searched for a drink—Kirstie never did bring me that Diet Coke. “Want me to get you some water?”

  “Yes, please,” I croaked.

  “Be right back,” he said, and he went off as fast as his leg would let him.

  I desperately gulped for air as I kept on coughing. I tried to swallow, but nothing helped. I could feel the veins in my neck bulge, and people were starting to look at me.

  “Ballbuster!”

  I turned to see Shiner, grinning like he’d just made honor roll.

  I spat out a couple more coughs while looking at Shiner. My abs hurt from the effort, and I wondered if I might pass out.

  “Hey,” he said. “You okay? Need a drink?” He held out the plastic cup he was holding. I looked at it suspiciously. “It’s okay, I ain’t got cooties,” he said, reading my thoughts. I took the cup and gulped down bubbly Coke. I drank it so fast, it stung my eyes, but it seemed to do the trick—the crumb finally gave up and moved down my throat, a reminder tickle staying behind.

  “Thanks,” I finally managed, handing him back the empty cup. “What are you doing here?”

  “Shoot, Busty. Same thing you’re doing,” he said. “Except I ain’t hacking up chips like a cat with hairballs.” For once he wasn’t wearing his puffy Dallas Cowboys jacket, but he was wearing his coral necklace with a button-down shirt. He had even tucked in his shirt. Also, he smelled of Drakkar Noir—like, a lot of Drakkar Noir.