“Seriously?”
I fake-laughed like the best of them. “Course not. Kidding! But stay here. I don’t want you to know where the key is and then come back later with your minions and steal our stuff.”
He sighed and closed his eyes. I took this glorious opportunity to appreciate his chiseled face, light stubble and pink lips. His black lashes rested on his face. It was too bad Zeke wasn’t meant to be my soul mate because he was kinda growing on me.
“Stay here.” I sneaked around back and found the spare key hidden in Aunt Lulu’s birdhouse.
I opened the backdoor first and peeked inside. The opulence wafted over me, pulling me inside. “Hello?” I held my breath, praying no one would answer.
The echo of greeting bounced back and only silence answered me. I ran around to the front and grabbed Zeke. “Okay, let’s go.” I rushed him inside and showed him the bathroom.
He stepped out a couple minutes later, but instead of exiting the house, he took his time to study the family pictures on the wall. “Your family really focuses on Jules, huh?”
My confidence withered and I stammered out a lie. “My parents aren’t really into photography and we get pictures from them every year for Christmas so they kind of pile up. In fact, that’s one reason I’m thinking of taking up photography so there’ll be pictures of my family up there. We’ve just adjusted to it, barely notice the pictures.”
“Hmm.” He played with his lip ring. “That explains a lot.”
“I guess so.” As I walked him to the back door, I whirled around before opening it. “Wait. What did you mean by that?”
He made his face a blank sheet, as if hoping I wouldn’t figure out the true meaning behind his words. “Nothing much. We can talk about it with Mr. G.”
I nudged him toward the back door. “Yeah, right. Well, thanks for the ride home but I’m sure you have lots to do.”
“You’re welcome. Anytime.”
I highly disliked that he hinted my problems stemmed from my parents’ obsession with Jules. I was about to launch into a highly developed argument but the front door jiggled. I grabbed his hand. “Let’s talk more about this…up in my room. I can get you something to drink for your trouble. Where are my manners?”
I practically dragged him up the backstairs to Jules’s room. I always felt like a peon in Jules’s house. The luxurious carpet under my feet, the glitter of chandeliers in almost every room, and her room especially. I have one small closet and a dresser. She has a walk-in closet the size of my bedroom.
Voices murmured downstairs. They were back. Excuses ran through my head like mad because it was almost inevitable that they find us. Might as well be proactive. No hiding in the closets with Zeke or stuffing him into the linen closet under threat of death if he talked.
“You know what?” My voice shook slightly. “What was I thinking? The best drinks are downstairs, and my parents don’t like me to drink or eat upstairs.”
“Then what’s the mini fridge for?”
I could’ve continued in the lame lies but something broke inside me at the ridiculousness of the situation and the whole morning. I mean I was about to explain that we kept the drinks up in our room in fridges but had to drink and eat downstairs. I cracked up, the pressure releasing.
“Are you okay?” Zeke stepped back, his head tilted at the girl completely losing it in front of him.
I calmed down and sucked in some breaths. “I’m sorry.” More deep breaths and then I spoke in a calm voice. “I let you think I had a lot of money and that this is my house, but it isn’t. It’s Jules’s. I live in a normal house with parents who make normal incomes. At camp I was just too mad to tell the truth.”
He smiled. “That’s okay. I kinda figured that out. I was waiting for you because that’s what friends do.”
“And I’m glad you’re my friend.” I listened for voices. “Okay, now we have to get out of here.” I headed out of the room. At the top of the stairs, I whispered, “Sounds like Aunt Lulu. Just follow my lead.”
I calmly walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Hi there!” I rushed over and gave Aunt Lulu a giant hug.
“Cassidy. What a surprise, dear. You hardly ever—”
“I know I’m hardly ever here on Saturday mornings, but we needed a change of environment…to study.” The blush rose in my face. Aunt Lulu watched us both, her face lighting with understanding.
I opened the fridge and grabbed him a kiwi-lime seltzer water because that’s about all Jules drinks and shoved it into Zeke’s hand. “Let’s head back to my house.” I kept talking while leading him to the door. “I never would’ve understood the effect the Russian revolution had on the country. You’re a life saver.”
The knob turned under my hand. I whipped the door open.
“Cassidy?” Jules questioned. Ava, Jasper, and Carter flanked her on either side. “Zeke?”
“Um, yeah, I got a flat tire and we were so much closer to your house, so….”
I could feel Aunt Lulu’s eyes boring into my back, demanding an explanation for getting my stories wrong. I wish I had the ability to formulate thoughts and judge their effectiveness before I spoke them. That would save me from half the awkward situations I found myself in over the course of my life time. “We also had to study Russian economics.”
Jules peered past my shoulder and understanding dawned in her eyes. She realized Aunt Lulu was not happy with me. She shouldered past me.
“We’re heading to my room. See you later, Cass.”
“Sure thing.” I tried to telepathically beg her to invite me upstairs but it didn’t work any better than it did with Carter. I knew he wouldn’t help me. As he walked back, he squeezed my arm sympathetically.
“I’ll meet you out at the car,” I whispered to Zeke, who got the message and slipped outside.
Then it was just me and Aunt Lulu. Uncle Rudie sensed the coming storm and mumbled about shining up the Porsche. I still didn’t turn around, even when she started the foot tapping.
“Cassidy?”
For some reason, my hand was stuck to the doorknob, a mental block or something. I thought about all the different ways this could go from Aunt Lulu pressing charges for breaking and entering so I’d learn my lesson—even though I used the key—to her calling my parents, to who knows what. My whole body sagged as the answer came, silent and deadly, because that’s what it would be to me: a slow death by Aunt Lulu. Only one thing would distract her from my lies and my actions.
I bit the inside of my lip hoping to produce a few crocodile tears and rushed over, throwing my arms around her. “Oh, Aunt Lulu.” I sobbed into her shoulder with great heaving wailing noises.
Aunt Lulu isn’t the most affectionate person, more like a porcupine trying to hug, so she didn’t know what to do. “Oh, I’ve tried so hard and nothing works. I’m sorry I was in your house and with a boy but I didn’t know what else to do.”
Her hands dug into my arms and she pulled back, watching me with alternate expressions of doubt and doubt.
I poured it on thick, putting on the best puppy-dog look I could muster. “I’m lost, Aunt Lulu. I’m trying so hard to get this guy to like me and there’s prom at the end of the year, but it will come so fast. I know it. But everything I do fails.”
Technically, everything I’d said up to that point was the truth. I swallowed my pride and threw out the trigger word.
“I need help,” I whispered, mustering one more tear to slip down my cheek.
Aunt Lulu’s transformation was like watching a cloudy dark day transform into a brilliant sunset with bright pinks, purples, and flaming oranges. She went from a heaving mass of tension and indignation to a shivering mass of compassion.
What had I just done? Carter and Jules must either be shaking their heads or laughing hysterically at me through the ceiling.
With a determined face, set jaw, and eyes of a shark, Aunt Lulu clasped my shoulder. “You stick with me, dear. Aunt Lulu will take care of
everything.”
Then she embraced me, ready to get to work, thrilled with the chance to transform me. With whatever plan she was concocting, I’d be lucky to have any life at all outside of school and homework before Christmas.
Chapter 14
I’d like to say that somehow between November and December and my talks with Aunt Lulu, I’d brainwashed Michael to ask me to the Christmas dance, but alas, no such luck.
Michael was going stag with a group of other kinda cute but geeky guys, who also liked pointy ears and archery. Jules was going with her usual crowd. Carter and Ava and Jasper were included in Jules’s little group—don’t know how a sweet guy like my brother could put up with Ava for so long unless Jules was right about her and she had some redeeming quality that I had yet to see.
Elena and I decided to go solo together. Two weeks before, we’d walked through the mall, searching the discount racks. Dad had surprisingly given me fifty dollars to find something suitable to wear. Of course, everything I loved was over one hundred.
“What about this?” Elena pulled out a hot pink sleeveless number.
“Um, not quite sure it says Christmas.”
She pulled out five more dresses in various rainbow colors, including one tie die with a Christmas tree on the front before she let out an exasperated sigh. “None of these dresses are black, red or green if that’s what you’re looking for.”
I ran my fingers through the spring fling dresses from the previous year. “Then where am I supposed to find one?”
“Gosh, why don’t you raid Jules’s closet? She probably has dresses with tags on them that she’ll never wear, won’t miss, and won’t even remember she had.”
I stammered out a few excuses. The primary one being that I’d never steal from Jules, and I also had a sneaky suspicion that Elena would never keep that secret. But on the inside I was squealing. She was brilliant.
“So who is it you’re trying to impress?” she asked.
“No one in particular. Just all the guys who didn’t think to ask me. At the dance, they will be regretting that decision.”
We finished up shopping rather quickly due to a sudden headache on my part. In other words, I needed time to plan.
It turned out to be easier than I thought. Of course, I blackmailed Carter saying if he didn’t help me, I’d video him sleeping in his underwear and post it on the World Wide Web for every one of his potential girl friends to see, and I’d be sure to pick the most unflattering shot.
Every Sunday afternoon, Jules and her parents go out to this gourmet restaurant where one entrée comes to like fifteen dollars or more, and that doesn’t include French fries and a side salad, just this tiny cut of meat. You have to pay extra for anything else.
Carter stood on the lookout behind a geranium bush at the side of the house while I sneaked in and entered Jules’s room. Normally, when I’m here, Jules is the star attraction, chatting, laughing and showing me her new clothes from some exotic city. Without her there in the room, the silence fell over me. My heart beat with guilt as I imagined Aunt Lulu’s scowl and Jules’s look of betrayal.
With a headlamp on—Carter insisted on it—I dug deep into the back recesses of the closet. It was like mining in an old tunnel, hoping for the glint of gold.
My walkie talkie crackled. “All well?”
“There’s too many clothes!” I hissed back.
“Whatever. Girls,” he muttered.
I fumbled about a bit more then stood back and took in the rainbow of colors. “Genius!” I went right for the black section and found a simple-cut short dress that anyone could’ve bought anywhere. I could probably find the same dress at Target.
Carter’s voice came through with a crackle. “Family is home. I repeat. Family is home!”
I grabbed the dress off the hanger, shoved it in my bag, and slipped out the back door just as Uncle Rudie jiggled his key in the lock.
***
The day before the Christmas dance, I stopped in at the guidance office for a session with Mr. Grabowski and Zeke. We suffered through another stale attempt to put us on the right path before we were left alone.
“You know,” I said, flopping down in the chair. “I really appreciate our support group, but I’m kinda done with them.”
He leaned forward, his face growing serious. “I wanted to give you a chance—”
“I wanted to share a few last tips on the upcoming Christmas dance because guys usually get it all wrong, and there are a few things girls wish they’d get right but everyone’s too nervous to just blurt it out, so I’m talking for all girl-kind around the world when I say that—”
“Cassidy…”
I just couldn’t answer the question he was about to ask. He probably wanted me to spill my guts about last spring and ask me if I really acted alone, but that was one secret I was carrying to the grave.
“Guys have it so easy. All they have to do is rent a tux that matches the color of their date’s dress, but the girls have all the pressure to find a dress that’s in style, that flatters her figure, that isn’t last year’s model, that isn’t too expensive, too low-cut, too high-cut, the right color, and most importantly that no one else has the same exact dress. But, of course, you probably—”
“Cassidy!” He broke in, his voice firm and commanding. He smirked in a nice way and shook his head like I’d never learn.
“Sorry,” I squeaked. “Just don’t buy your date one of those huge, obnoxious wrist corsages where the girl feels like she’s wearing a flower bush on her wrist when all she wanted was a single stem rose to put in a vase by her bed.”
“Done?”
I sucked in a cleansing breath and blew it right back out. “I think so. Don’t ask about last spring, so you can satisfy your curiosity. Because I won’t answer.”
“Well, then. I guess we’re done here.” He stood without answering that challenge and held the door. “Don’t we have a gym to decorate?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Jules is probably ready to send out the entire football team to find me.” His words registered. “We?”
He nodded. “Your cousin is ruthless when it comes down to getting people to do what she wants them to.”
Jules had roped me into volunteering for the decoration committee, and Zeke too. In other words, she needed servants to do the grunt work while she sat back and admired her creative ingenuity.
She never liked the non-traditional Christmas dance themes that other seniors had created in the past. She hated the Oldies theme, the Eighties theme, the supernatural theme, the favorite TV show theme—she wanted classic. So she tied it into some artsy idea, sparking enthusiasm until everyone agreed. Really, it was traditional black and white or solid colors with a silver color scheme. I’ll be honest. It would be the best Christmas dance I’d been to so far.
Even without a date.
The entire place sparkled with glitter and everything silver and white. Before I left, as I was hanging one of the final strands of icicle lights—though I’d managed to avoid Zeke the entire time—he caught up to me.
He bumped into my stool, making me wobble and almost take a nose dive on the basketball floor. I let out a tiny scream, which earned a prompt scowl from Jules.
Zeke balanced me. “Oops. Sorry about that.”
“Right.” Before the awkward silence between us could grow, I filled it. “I forgot to ask. Did you take my advice about the Christmas dance like no neon colors and try to go as a group?”
“Some of it, definitely.”
“What? Are you going to wear bright pink or something?”
He handed me the next string of lights. “Nah, not sure pink is my color. I was talking about the date area. I didn’t ask anyone.”
“You’ve got guts.”
He shrugged. “A date will just hold me back. I have no desire to spend all night catering to the whims of some girl.”
I tacked up more lights. Wow. He wasn’t as shallow as I thought, because that me
ant he hadn’t fallen for Jules or Ava or one of the cheerleaders…unless he was just chicken.
“I probably could’ve hooked you up with someone from Jules’s crowd.”
He stepped back. “I would never use you for your social connections, even if I’d wanted to ask one of her little clones.” He quickly changed the subject before my surprise could even register.
It feels like anyone who befriends me has ulterior motive. Usually, I just have to wait it out and then the favors start.
“Who are you going with?” he asked casually while handing me more lights.
I flashed what I hoped was a mysterious grin. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
He tried to hold it back but let out a snicker. “Going solo too?”
“That’s right. I’m a confident teen who doesn’t fully rely on a date to complete her night.” In other words, Michael had no interest in going with me.
We finished up about thirty minutes later. Jules herded us all out, congratulating us on the best-decorated Christmas dance in over a decade. I thought about the fact that my plans had failed.
I truly would be alone.
***
The night of the dance, Elena slunk into my room with a doubtful look to hide the surprise. “Nice dress.” Even though she’d joked about me raiding Jules’s closet, she probably never thought I’d have the guts to do it. She probably hadn’t given it another thought. Hence the surprise at my expensive dress.
After trying to mind-control the rising blush, which didn’t work, I cracked the window. “Phew. It’s hot in here.”
Elena rubbed her bare arms. “It’s December. It’s freezing.”
I shut the window. “Shall we get ready?”
Thankfully, Elena never connected her joke with my dress, and we proceeded to do our make-up and take turns doing each other’s hair in some kind of twisty up do accentuated by sparkly combs.
Out of the blue, Elena said, “Too bad your hot boyfriend from camp couldn’t be your date.”
Prom Impossible Page 8
