Being Whitney (Book one of the Being Series): A Young Adult Novel

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Being Whitney (Book one of the Being Series): A Young Adult Novel Page 7

by Elizabeth Thompson


  “I’m sure,” Whitney said.

  “Does little miss princess have a crush?” Phillip said. His eyes shown with the excitement of a cat honing in on a mouse.

  “No!” Whitney said.

  Phillip leaned back in his desk, his face covered with a cocky grin. “In my experience, aggressive no’s usually mean yes.”

  Whitney just glared at him.

  “Is it little Richmond? Mike would throw a party if his little bro caught you. That’d be quite the hook for him,” Phillip said.

  “We are not fish swimming in a pond for you guys to catch!” Everley said.

  “But you kinda are,” Phillip said. Everley looked like she would climb over the desk and kill him. Luckily Mrs. White started her lecture saving Phillip. After thirty minutes of Evelyn doodling ‘I hate Phillip’ on her paper Mrs. White assigned homework and gave them time to work.

  Lief leaned towards Whitney and she braced herself for his blessing on the Jesse situation. “Hey, Whitney, you looked pretty last night,” he said.

  “Thanks.” Whitney stammered.

  “I’m being serious,” he said. “Your dress was in a league of its own. You caused quite the ruffle among some of the upperclassmen, which overall I found kinda awesome.”

  “Well your outfit gained even more popularity than mine so props to you too,” she said. She returned to her homework and tried to breathe normally. It was pretty hard. His adorable mischievous smile freshly etched into her brain. It took effort to keep her face from breaking into a wide goofy smile for the rest of class.

  The brightness, in what turned out to be a rather dull day, left Whitney walking on clouds. As she left math with Everley she grabbed her by the arm and shoved her to the side of the hallway.

  “Did you hear that?” Whitney asked Everley.

  “That Phil thinks we are all just brainless fish swimming around all day waiting to be caught? Yeah I did,” Everley said.

  “Yeah. There was that. Phil is a piece of work,” Whitney said, “But did you hear Leif?”

  “Which part?” Everley said. “The part where he said you were gorgeous last night or the part where he said even though Eva is pissed at him he still found it funny that your dress was the best?

  Whitney smiled widely. “Both! Although he never said I was gorgeous.”

  Everley returned Whitney’s huge grin. “In less words, yeah he did,” she said.

  “Do you like, really like him?” Everley said. The question froze Whitney.

  “Like it would make any difference if I even did,” Whitney said.

  “Yeah,” Everley said quietly, reassuring Whitney of the ridiculousness of the crush.

  ◆◆◆

  Nearly everyone participated in the final dress up day; school pride day. Whitney weaved quickly through the sea of blue and white trying to make it to first period without being spotted by the homecoming police. The night before she’d panicked and text everyone in search of something MHS to wear. Ivy came through and as Whitney entered first period she tossed her a Millersburg track sweatshirt.

  “Thanks!” She said to Ivy putting it on quickly.

  “No problem. Our house is full of that stuff. I could probably outfit the whole school if I needed to.”

  The sweatshirt was large, but it smelled good, and Whitney had no reason to complain, Ivy saved her from Eva’s wrath. Or she thought.

  Second period Whitney sat with Everely discussing the next day’s dance when Eva flew into drama, laughing wildly with Jasmine, only to freeze a few steps past Whitney. “What are you wearing?” Eva asked.

  “A Millersburg sweatshirt. Go Bulldogs!” Whitney said with the best school spirit she could muster.

  “Where did you get it?” Eva asked. She stared at Whitney with an intensity Whitney hadn’t experienced this close up before.

  “Ivy brought it for me. I don’t have any Millersburg stuff yet. I just moved here.” Whitney said.

  “Oh! Ivy brought it for you!” she said glaring at Jasmine first, then Whitney. “Wasn’t that so nice of Ivy to FIND you a sweatshirt to wear?”

  Whitney knew the question was rhetorical, yet she didn’t know how else to answer.

  “I thought so,” she said.

  Eva stared for a minute longer, finally pivoting and marching to the other side of the room. Whitney sat wide-eyed for nearly a full minute.

  “She acts like it’s such a big deal,” Everley said. “It’s not.”

  “What?” Whitney said.

  “You’re wearing Leif’s sweatshirt.”

  “What?” Whitney said louder than she meant to. She glanced at Eva, who was staring at her., then quickly looked away. She was wearing Leif’s sweatshirt. She was elated, humiliated and terrified at the same time. That was the amazing smell, she breathed it in again unintentionally. Suddenly scared, she scoured the room. Leif was in this class. He was going to walk in and see her in his sweatshirt. No. No. That couldn’t happen. But she couldn’t take it off. She had to wear Millersburg stuff for the points.

  “What do I do?” she asked Everley.

  “Just wear it. Who cares? Ivy brought it for you. You didn’t steal it from his car.” Everley said.

  She appeared completely oblivious. Leif entered a moment before the bell rang, and as usual in drama, he headed for his crew without giving any notice to Everley and Whitney.

  Throughout the room groups rehearsed scenes in twos or threes. Whitney glanced over to where Eva and Leif were rehearsing. They appeared to be caught in a heated conversation Whitney guessed had little to do with the scene.

  “Because I don’t care!” Leif said, loud enough for Whitney to hear. “I just don’t. It’s not a big deal.”

  Whitney cheered on Leif in her head. She secretly wished he’d dramatically breakup with Eva in the middle of class and for the rest of the period she played the scene out in her head instead of paying attention to the people on the stage.

  ◆◆◆

  “Ummm, Ivy?!?!” Whitney shouted as soon as Brynley and Ivy were close enough to hear.

  “Ummm, Whitney?!!?” She said.

  “You didn’t tell me this was Leif’s sweatshirt!” Whitney said.

  “You didn’t ask.” Ivy said. “And honestly this morning I forgot and ran back into the house as Leif and Jasmine yelled at me from the car so I grabbed the first Millersburg sweatshirt I could find. I kinda thought it was Jasmine’s.”

  “I can’t wear Leif’s sweatshirt!” Whitney said.

  “Told you,” Brynley piped in looking at Ivy with a grin.

  Ivy matched Brynley’s grin. “Why can’t you wear Leif’s sweatshirt?”

  “Eva is going to kill me, like actually kill me,” Whitney said.

  “It might be true,” Everley said. They all picked up their lunch trays and joined the line to pay.

  “I would paid to see that,” Brynley said.

  “To see me die?” Whitney said. She turned to Ivy. “She acted like I stole it from him and wore it because I was some desperate weirdo.”

  “Then don’t wear it,” Ivy said.

  “I have to wear Millersburg stuff all day or our whole class loses their dress up points!”

  “The challenges of being the princess,” Ivy said.

  Defeated, Whitney followed the girls towards their table, knowing the harassment would return the following period.

  Phil wasted no time proving her right. “Nice sweatshirt Smyth!” he said referencing the name on the back of her sweatshirt before Whitney even made it to her seat.

  “Thanks Phil,” she muttered.

  “Heard you’re causing lots of waves in my boy Leif’s love life these days?” Phil stated.

  Whitney was so glad that A) Leif was not in class yet, and B) Phil was busy texting so he didn’t see her face turn bright red.

  Whitney wanted to have something smart to say back, but she didn’t. She looked at Everley out of the corner of her eye and Everley laughed.

  Not helping! Whitney said with
her eyes.

  Leif was tardy and snuck in, looking tired and worn, after Mrs. White started talking.

  “Rough lunch?” Phil asked as soon as Mrs. White finished her forty minute lecture.

  “She’s crazy,” Leif said. “Honestly crazy. And my sister just backs her up and I want to kill them both.”

  “Why are you with her dude?” Phil asked.

  “I don’t know,” Leif said.

  Whitney and Everley worked on their homework, actively trying to appear dis-engaged, although they were anything but. All four of them worked in silence for what had to be the first time all trimester, for most of the period.

  “Hey, newest Smyth,” Leif said to Whitney, after a while.

  Whitney turned to look at him, glancing at Everley as she did.

  “Did you get number 29?” he asked.

  She waited for the catch but when it didn’t come she grabbed her paper and passed it to him. “It’s towards the bottom. I think that’s it but I was kind of confused.”

  He copied it down while she played with the drawstrings of his sweatshirt.

  “Thanks,” he said. “Oh! And nice sweatshirt!”

  There it was.

  “Oh, thanks!” She said. “Your sister hands them out for free these days.”

  In language arts Jesse still seemed upset. She wondered if it had to do with the sweatshirt. Probably. But she needed to talk to him, so she sent him a text as Brynley and James read aloud a scene from Romeo and Juliet.

  What’s the plan for tonight? Did you just want to meet here?

  She watched him discretely text back under his desk. Yeah, that’s fine.

  What about tomorrow? she asked.

  What about tomorrow? he said.

  The dance.

  Oh, we’re supposed to go to that together too, huh?

  She looked over at him but he was purposely looking away. She slid her phone over to Everley and pointed at the messages.

  “What do I say?” she wrote on the edge of her paper.

  “Say – YEAH, we are.” Everley wrote.

  Whitney hesitated.

  Yeah. She finally said

  Okay. What time? he asked.

  Dance is at 8.

  K. I’ll be at your house around 7:30.

  Whitney tossed her phone into her backpack. They’d talked about this. Jesse seemed excited at the beginning of the week and now it was apparently torture. She needed Jesse to be okay with her. He was the only boy who she was comfortable around.

  As Whitney loaded the bus, caught in thoughts of Jesse and smells of Leif she suddenly remembered her dad was coming today! She took the seat across from Mable and let her head rest against the cold damp window, anxiety filling her core.

  Due to his late meeting, her dad wasn’t getting in until 6:30 and would just meet them at the game. Whitney was a ball of nerves as she prepared for both the game AND seeing her dad. She had her mom help her with her makeup before putting on her dress. Staring at herself in the mirror she fell in love all over with the long, form fitting maroon dress she’d picked out. Beading ran throughout the dress making it look opulent, which she loved, yet she worried again if it was more California than Millersburg.

  “Do you think it’s too much?” she asked as her mom popped her head in the door.

  “No!” her mom said.

  “But for Millersburg…..I think it’s a little too much.” Whitney stared at the mirror nervously.

  “OMG Whit! You look so pretty. I didn’t even know you could look so pretty,” Mable said wafting in with her overnight bag on her shoulder.

  “Thanks Mabes….I think,” Whitney said.

  Mable saw their dad first. Her screams alerted Whitney, her mom and the rest of the stadium of his arrival. Mable ran to meet him as he walked confidently in their direction. Whitney waited for him to make his way over, suddenly twice as nervous as before. When he reached her, he untangled Mable from him and wrapped Whitney in a hug reminding her how much she thirsted for his love.

  “Look at my little basketball player turned princess. This town worked quickly to make that change.” Her dad took a step back to look at Whitney from head to toe. Suddenly Whitney was so thankful she had gone with the over-the-top dress. Her dad wouldn’t have stood for anything less.

  “I’m still your basketball player. This just happened. I’m not loving it,” she said.

  “Better be,” he said.

  With half-time quickly approaching, Whitney gladly excused herself and headed towards the line-up of cars with Jesse. Walking in silence, she put her arm through Jesse’s thankful, for the 100th time he was with her for this. He looked at her inquisitively, but didn’t stop her. The nervous energy tightening her chest made her set aside any drama remaining between them.

  Approaching the line of cars, Whitney surveyed the other princesses. They each wore long, pretty dresses, with Jasmine’s being the best by far. It was black silk with a low-cut V in front and an open back. It actually caught Whitney off guard. She turned to look at Jasmine’s dress again as they climbed into their car. Jesse turned too and leaned in close to her.

  “Yours is better,” he whispered taking his time to lean back away.

  Whitney turned to face the unconditional love oozing from his whole being. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as the car started moving forward and she smiled at him.

  In front of the grandstands their car stopped and the show began for real. Jesse climbed out first and gave Whitney his hand. Her father met them and gave her a hug before letting her take his arm. Together, they led her to the far end of the huge balloon arch in the middle of the field.

  “Freshman Princess Whitney Volsum, escorted by Freshman Jesse Richmond and her father Matt Volsum,” came through the loud speakers.

  From the field, grasping the roses her father had handed her, Whitney glanced at her surroundings with genuine fear. The crowd roared from the stands as each new princess arrived and made their way towards Whitney. The huge field lights felt like interrogation lights, yet when she looked down she realized how perfectly they hit the beads on her dress making it shine perfectly.

  Her dad patted her arm with his other hand and the freshman in the stands cheered loudly when they held the crown above her head. She looked at Jesse and they both smiled. Whitney had never felt this special before. She felt pretty and good and enough. It wasn’t her. Whitney Volsum didn’t feel this okay, but in that moment, she did and for a second she was okay with the move and everything that it brought. Then it was gone. They announced the seniors as the winners and replaced Jasmine’s little tiara with a crown triggering more cheers as the girls made their way back to their cars. Walking carefully through the rain soaked field in her three inch heels Whitney felt fine about the loss, until she saw her dad’s face. He flashed her a half smile she’d seen a million times, but didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to.

  Back safe in the car next to Jesse, Whitney let out a long breath. “Is your dad always that serious?” Jesse asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He just didn’t seem to smile much or be too excited about you being princess.”

  “He’s upset I didn’t win,” Whitney said.

  “Are you serious?” Jesse asked. His aggressive tone immediately made Whitney regret saying it.

  “Yeah. He always wants me to win.” She wanted him to drop it and her face must have said as much, because after a long questioning stare, he did. Whitney felt the full weight of her old self fill her again, taking in the sadness and realizing how safe she actually felt in the pit of disappointment she was used to living in.

  ◆◆◆

  Within forty-five minutes Whitney and Mable were sprawled across their hotel bed, ice cream in hand. Mable talked incessantly from the time they entered the car until the moment she fell asleep, but Whitney was used to it and was happy to postpone the grilling she knew her dad had prepared for her. Eventually Mable fell asleep, head resting on Whitney’s leg, as Whitne
y ran her fingers through her little sister’s auburn curls.

  “What’s the story with this Jesse kid? Is he something?” he asked.

  “No,” was her quick answer, yet she realized that was a lie. “I mean yeah, he’s something. He’s a friend, but that’s it.”

  “That’s okay,” her dad said. “You don’t need a boyfriend, you need to stay focused.”

  “I am.”

  “Have you met the rest of your team? You need to start bonding with them early. Don’t wait until the season starts to try and get each other,” he said.

  “Uh, I’ve met most of them,” Whitney said. She honestly knew little about who played but her dad wouldn’t stand for that.

  “So you’ve met the Chapman and Smyth girls? They were the top scorers last season.”

  Of course her dad knew. She shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was and the mention of Smyth made her heart skip a beat until she realized who he meant.

  “You mean Eva and Jasmine?”

  “So you do know them. You should be spending lots of time with them. Arrange for them to come to the house and shoot around.”

  Each sentence made Whitney’s chest tighter. She smiled thinking about how they’d react if she invited Eva and Jasmine over

  “I’m being serious Whit. You told me your game wouldn’t suffer up here, but I think you’re going to have to go above and beyond if you want to keep that promise. We’ve put in so much time and money and effort. It would be a disgrace to let it all be for nothing.”

  “I know. It won’t.” Whitney bore the weight of his expectations heavy on her chest.

  The next morning when he dropped them at home, Whitney felt relieved. She gave him a quick hug and mumbled a thank you before heading inside. She watched him linger with Mable from her bedroom window and let the tears fall down her cheeks while she wondered how she could thirst so much for a love that never stuck around.

  She laid in her bed much longer than she should of hating boys of all sorts. She needed to get ready for the dance, but she didn’t feel like it. Maybe she could call Jesse and say she was sick. Skip the dance. Watch movies in her bed all night. That sounded so much better than going. But she knew Jesse would be sad and they’d bought her a new dress just for tonight, so she convinced herself to get up and get ready.

 

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