by Jenni James
“Well, no.”
“Well, then, don’t you need a boyfriend?”
Are you for real? “No, Collin, I don’t need a boyfriend. I’m perfectly fine on my own, thank you.”
“But your mother said you would say yes if I asked. She told my mom—I don’t understand . . .”
I lost it. “You know what? I don’t have to listen to this.” I walked back in the house and slammed the door behind me, leaving Collin outside. I know it was a bit harsh, but I was so sick of people bossing me around.
To say my mom was mad would be an understatement. She was positively livid, which was fine with me, because I didn’t care what she thought anymore. I let her run outside and comfort a sullen Collin while I ran to my room and slammed that door, too.
After a few minutes of pacing up and down I heard a knock. “Go away!”
“Chloe?” It was my dad.
Oh, great. “Yeah, you can come in.” I grabbed my bear and plopped on the bed.
My dad walked into my room and pulled out the desk chair. Straddling it backwards, he sat down and faced me. The look on his face made me feel awful. I didn’t even know what to say to him.
“Chloe, I’m not worried about Collin, if that’s what’s bothering you,” he stated. “I’m sure someone as oblivious as that kid will easily forgive and forget. I’m worried about you and your relationship with your family.”
“Oh?”
“This isn’t like you. Snapping at people, taking things so seriously. The Chloe I know would have found tonight utterly hilarious and found a way to let that poor boy down gently.” Not sure what to say, I remained silent.
“What’s going on with you?” my dad asked. “Is it anything you want to talk about?”
“Not really. I don’t know what’s wrong.”
He ran his hand through his faded blond hair. “Look. Your mom is pretty adamant that you become Collin’s girlfriend, even if it’s just for a few weeks. She thinks you are being very stubborn, selfish, and prideful. In fact, she asked me to come in and talk to you.”
“She did?”
“Yes. And you have to admit she’s got a point. Now here’s the problem,” Dad continued. “She wants you grounded if you don’t accept Collin.”
I grimaced. They can’t force me to be the guy’s girlfriend, can they?
“And I will ground you if you do,” Dad finished.
Mom’s vengeful “No!” could be heard just outside my door as I realized what my father had said.
What? “Thank you!” I ran across the room and hugged him so tight I almost knocked him over. “I love you.” He hugged me back. “And don’t worry. It’s nothing, Dad. I’m fine.”
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.
I thought for a moment, then smiled. “Just please don’t make me deal with Mom.”
SIXTEEN
ONE WORD: MORP
By the middle of November, I had begun to wonder if Blake had been drinking the same water as Taylor and Zack. Not that Blake and I were an official item or anything—definitely nothing of the sort. It’s just when you get used to a guy calling you almost every day it becomes pretty noticeable when he stops. So by the time December rolled around and Ethan announced that Blake had a girlfriend, I wasn’t too surprised. It had been almost four weeks since I had last heard from him. His new schedule at the hotel didn’t leave room for Wednesday-night four-wheeling, either. But that was okay. With Madison, Alyssa, and I so busy with our own schedules it was nice to have the odd weekend free to hang out like old times. Besides, December was a time to plan for holiday events, parties, and, of course, morp.
Honestly, is there a person alive who doesn’t love morp? It was only our school’s biggest dance other than prom. As funny as it sounds, morp is “prom” spelled backwards, and therefore that was the theme of the night. For Backwards Night, the girls did everything: the tickets, the dinner, the photos, the ride— everything. We even got to choose the matching outfits that were worn that night. Thank goodness the dance was a casual one.
I found out our school held morp in January so all of the proceeds could go toward prom in April. Traditionally, the guy a girl asks to morp is the guy she is secretly hoping will ask her to prom. So imagine my complete and utter surprise when a desperate Taylor barged into art class one Friday and asked me to help him find a girl to take him to morp.
“I need help,” he said desperately. “Will you help me get a date to morp, please?”
His eyes were almost aquamarine today. Why is it guys usually have the prettiest eyes? I tried to make sense of what I had heard. “Let me get this straight. You need someone to ask you to morp?”
“Yes, immediately! Will you help me?”
You need help finding a date to morp? You? “But why?”
Taylor sat in the chair next to me. “Because of Sydney Ellis.”
“Sydney?” She was probably one of the rudest cheerleaders I had ever known. Where Kylie would at least fake like she liked you, Sydney was your typical movie “mean girl.” “What about her?” I asked.
Taylor collapsed forward on the table and buried his face in his hands. “She’s just asked me to morp. I don’t know what to do. I haven’t answered her yet, thanks to her perfect timing. She asked right as the bell rang. But I’ll see her next hour and she’ll be expecting my answer then. I need someone else to ask me now, so I can tell her that I’m already taken. I really don’t want to go with her.”
No, you really don’t. “Let me make sure I understand. You, Taylor Anderson, need help finding a date ASAP to morp, correct?”
“Isn’t that what I just said?”
“Yes, but it’s so unexpected I wanted to make sure I heard you correctly.”
“So you can help?”
“Well, yeah. I can help you find someone. Now let’s see, there’s a whole room full of girls. Just choose one. Anyone.”
“Really?” Taylor sat up.
“Yes, really. As a matter of fact, I could get any girl in the school to take you. Who would you love to go with more than anyone else? I’ll ask her. Then, bingo, she’s yours.”
“I don’t think she wants to go with me.”
I rolled my eyes as I stood up. “Please, Taylor.” Then it hit me just as I was about to walk away to get my art supplies ready. “Oh! You mean Kylie?”
“What? Kylie? No.” He pushed himself up and followed me over to the shelves.
“Oh?” I shrugged. “So who is she?” I reached up and pulled out Taylor’s scratchboard, then my own.
He walked over to the sink and collected the scratch-art knives we needed. “I don’t want to say,” he responded once we sat down. He looked a bit embarrassed.
I sighed in frustration. “O–kay. You know, this whole Sydney thing could’ve been avoided if you had just picked another girlfriend by now. I mean seriously, it’s been a month, hasn’t it?”
“Five and a half weeks,” Taylor grumbled.
“See? That creates too much talk. You need a girlfriend. You’ve never gone that long without one. If you already had one, Sydney wouldn’t have asked you.”
Taylor shook his head. “I’d rather not have a girlfriend right now. I really would just like to have a girl ask me to morp.”
I caught the incredulous look that passed between Madison and Alyssa as they slipped into their chairs. Yeah, they’re probably really shocked right now. Kind of like I was about three minutes ago.
“Okay,” I tried again, “how about Emma? She would love to go with you.”
“No.”
I found one syllable answers could annoy me. “Why not?”
“I don’t want to lead her on, you know?”
“Look, Taylor, what do you want from me? I’m trying to help you, okay?”
“I just don’t want to go with Emma, all right?”
“So you already have a girl in mind, right? And you don’t want to have just any girl ask you? You’re only going to settle for this particular one?”
<
br /> “Yes.” He looked relieved.
“Great. Then who is it? I’m one hundred percent positive she’ll say yes.”
“I’m positive she won’t want to go with me.” He looked like a child whose Christmas gift had been stolen.
“Are we back to that again?” I exclaimed. “Sheez! Of course, she will want to go with you. Don’t worry, I’ll ask her. Believe me. She’ll be all ecstatic and tell all of her friends. And—what? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Taylor’s eyes really were the prettiest blue I had ever seen.
“Who are you taking to Morp?” he asked.
“Ah—I don’t know yet. Someone who can dance,” I hesitantly replied.
“Dance?”
“I don’t mean like perfect or anything, but definitely not afraid to move.”
“Why?”
“I love to dance. And if I’m spending money to take a guy to this thing, I want to know I’m going to have fun.”
“Oh.” Looking pensive, Taylor turned away. He glanced over at Madison and Alyssa and commented on their art work.
For a moment I just stared off into space as I debated his problem. “Hey, how about this!” I beamed. “It’s perfect. I will ask you to morp. Then you can say you were asked.”
“I—I can?” he stammered as his face lit up.
“Sure, with no strings attached. It’s great! Then we can both go with who we really want.”
His face fell. “I can’t do that.”
“Why?” You are seriously beginning to bug me.
“B–because it would be a lie,” he answered. “I want to be asked for real. I don’t want to lie.”
“Well, sheez. If you don’t tell me who this girl is and you won’t let me just kind of pretend to ask you, then what in the world are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I need help.”
More than you realize. “Taylor, I would love to help you, but I can’t if all we’re going to do is go round and round with this.”
His gaze caught mine, and he took a breath that seemed almost nervous. “Chloe, I just want the girl to ask me for real.”
I froze for a moment as I tried to decipher that gaze. And then it was like a light bulb exploded in my head. Oh my gosh. He wants me to ask him. Me? How could I have been so dense? He can’t be serious, can he? I can’t. I’m not going to do it. No way. I can’t even stand the guy. There is no way I can put up with him for a whole evening. I’d rather go out with Collin. He’ll have to find someone else. Silently, I turned away from Taylor and started to work on my art project.
“You have to ask Taylor,” Alyssa said. Her steps were hard put to keep up with mine as I rushed out of the art room after the bell rang. I was so intent on leaving as quickly as possible, I was surprised that Madison and Alyssa had caught up with me.
I was shocked. “I—I do?”
“Yes,” Madison said. “Any fool could see he wanted you to ask him to morp.”
“Are you sure? I mean, we all realize the significance of this dance. Maybe he hasn’t thought it through properly.” There is no way he likes me.
“Are you kidding me? Taylor has had five and a half weeks to think it through.”
“Come on, you have to help him,” Alyssa pleaded.
“He did help you with Mr. Young,” Madison pointed out.
“Okay, yeah. But, that was forever ago.” I shook my head.
“What about when he came to our party and was really funny and nice to everyone?” Madison tried again.
“And he paid for your dinner with Collin,” Alyssa said.
“And he broke up with what’s-her-name for you!”
“Anne,” I mumbled.
“Yeah, well, he did,” Madison said.
I had begun to cave. “But I can’t stand Taylor. He’s rude.”
“When?” Alyssa challenged.
“Well, to Blake,” I said.
Obviously, Madison wasn’t impressed. “Where’s Blake now?”
“Uh—” Okay, so I can’t fight that one.
“Just ask him,” Alyssa practically begged. “The guy is desperate. I don’t know how many guys would’ve gone to the lengths he’s has to try and convince you to like him.”
“Put him out of his misery, please. It’s just a dance.” Now Madison sounded like she was begging as well. “You really don’t want to make him go to morp with Sydney, do you? No guy should ever have to do that.”
Yeah, but this is Taylor we’re talking about. He probably deserves it. “Are you really, really sure he’s not trying to get back at me somehow?”
“No!” both girls almost hollered at me as we stopped in front of Mr. Young’s class.
Nothing like being put on the spot. With a groan, I gave in. “Fine. Who sees him next?” I asked.
Madison said, “He’s in Ms. Solomon’s with me.”
Alyssa ripped a sheet of notebook paper out of her binder, then handed me the sheet along with a glitter pen.
Sheez. Glitter?
“Write,” she commanded.
After a second of hesitation I wrote:
T~
Will you go with me to morp? It’s for real this time
Chloe
I was worried about putting the heart down. I didn’t want Taylor to get any more ideas. But we had run out of time. And since I always drew a heart instead of writing “Hart,” I figured it didn’t matter.
“I’ll make sure Taylor gets this.” Alyssa smiled. “Okay.” I watched as she sealed my fate and put the note in her pocket. The bell rang. By the time I had walked into my English class Madison, and Alyssa were gone.
I knew Taylor had gotten the note when he hollered from across the crowded hall after school, “Thank you, Copper Top!”
I could’ve died of embarrassment when everyone turned to look at me. Since it was Friday, it was a real good thing I wouldn’t have to face anyone at school for three more days.
Later that night, Alyssa and Madison tormented me relentlessly. But all in all, they were really happy for me. By Sunday, I still hadn’t told my parents. The only one of my family members who knew was Cassidy. I had hoped to talk to Taylor on Monday to go over details before I told anyone we were going together.
If I was completely honest with myself, I was surprised at how much I looked forward to morp—more than I thought I would. I was pretty darned excited about it, which was how I found myself as I practically ran to art class Monday morning: excited. I couldn’t wait to see what Taylor thought of my ideas. But I didn’t count on one small thing. I wanted to plan for morp, but I couldn’t. Taylor wasn’t there.
After roll call, Ms. Bailey made an announcement. “Taylor Anderson will no longer be in our art class.”
What?
Maddi and Alyssa looked shocked too. By the gasps around the room, I realized we weren’t the only ones who were surprised.
“He has transferred out of this class due to a schedule change,” Ms. B. explained. “He will be attending art at another hour.”
What? Why didn’t he say anything? That’s not like Taylor at all. You would think he would’ve had us all plan a farewell party in his honor. Didn’t he know it was going to happen? Is this something last minute? And then an idea popped into my head. Did he transfer because of me?
That one sentence revolved in my head over and over again. Did he transfer because of me? Did he transfer because of me? Did he . . . I need to leave. The thought crossed my mind and furiously took hold. In moments I was up and facing Ms. B.
“Ms. Bailey? May I please go to the restroom?”
I barely heard her “sure” over the blood pounding in my ears.
Frantically, I grabbed the hall pass and fled to the privacy and sanctuary of the girl’s bathroom. It was then that I realized Taylor had never said yes when I had asked him to morp. He had only said thank you. He had never really intended to go with me at all! This whole weekend, while I had stupidly dreamed and planned in my head all of the ridiculous thin
gs Taylor and I would do, they were just that—stupid, ridiculous dreams of a girl who should have known better. One small tear escaped and trailed down my cheek. I brushed it away. But in the very next breath I felt one on my other cheek. And then another and another. No matter how much I dashed and wiped and cursed my cheeks, the irrational tears still fell.
What am I crying for? It’s not like I like Taylor anyway. He’s popular, and in my wildest dreams I have never wanted to be popular. So stop. This is nonsense. Besides, maybe I’m being overdramatic. I don’t know why Taylor left. See? I’m just jumping to conclusions. I’m sure he’ll explain everything to me once he’s given the chance. I hope.
A week later, I had lost all hope of Taylor explaining things to me, especially on Friday in art when I overheard Emma say excitedly to her friends, “Oh my gosh! You would not believe the outfits my stepdad just picked up for me! Taylor and I are going to look so amazing together at morp . . .”
He’s going with Emma? She continued to babble, but I didn’t need to hear the rest. I had heard enough. Emma? The girl he didn’t want to give false hopes to?
The reality of what a fool I had made of myself began to sink in. I was the idiot I had vowed to never be. And it wasn’t even Sydney he was going with. I maybe could’ve handled it if it was Sydney. But Emma?
I had visions of Taylor seeing my note and feeling about me just as he had felt when Sydney asked him. Did I read everything wrong? Was I just flattering myself all along that he liked me? Did he leave our class because he was too chicken to tell me he didn’t want to go with me? It was obvious Taylor had avoided me. If he really wanted to find me he could’ve, just like any other day. It had been a whole week, and he had never even tried to contact me to tell me he had planned to go with someone else. That hurt more than anything. The least he could’ve done was pay me the courtesy of a rejection. I was so humiliated that when I came home from school Friday night, I went straight to my room and dropped on my bed.
Okay, so I know I’m not totally beautiful or anything. But man, there is nothing like going out on a limb only to find the guy you’re out there for has a chainsaw and no safety net.
