"Ready?" Clarissa asked with a bubbly voice. This was just the sort of thing that she had been waiting all year for. It had the opposite effect on me. I couldn't stop thinking about Trace and the last dance. I hadn't seen him yet, and I was glad. Maybe he wasn't here. Maybe he had gotten permission to check out early. A flash of relief and disappointment swept through me.
Clarissa and Nina each took one of my hands as we walked carefully through the opened double doors. I'm sure we looked utterly insecure and dorky. But that's exactly what we were. The room was huge, but it seemed even bigger being crammed with three hundred seventh, eighth, and ninth graders. Most of the ninth graders were crowded up front by the disco ball. I spotted a few kids that I recognized as eighth graders standing in the middle talking, and it was obvious that the seventh graders were the small kids lined up against the surrounding walls. I was about to go take a place beside them when Clarissa started leading our little trio to the front of the room. I anchored my feet to the wood floor.
"Where are you taking us?" I asked between my teeth, my eyes wide with horror.
Clarissa looked at me with disgust. "There is no way we are staying back here with all the lame eighth graders."
"But we are lame eighth graders!" I rebutted.
"Gemma!" Clarissa stomped her foot. "You cannot expect to dance the last dance with anyone if you don't get out there and show them what you can do!"
"But I can't do anything! I don't know how to dance or shimmy or even sway side to side without looking like an idiot!"
Clarissa rolled her eyes and looked at Nina. "This seriously should have come up before today." She looked back at me. "Just do what I do and you'll be fine." She then pulled me harder than I was expecting, and I stumbled forward, towing quiet Nina behind me.
Clarissa led us straight past the scattered eighth graders and into the squashed group of ninth graders at the front of the room. We bumped into a different person every step we took. I could feel their eyes blaring into my skull, and I knew they were wondering why a group of eighth graders-and not even cool eighth graders at that-were invading their personal space.
"Who invited the beanie babies?" a loud male voice boomed from somewhere in the crowd. I knew he was referring to us, and so did everyone else who stared at us in silence. I was too afraid to look toward the voice that sounded much too old to belong to a junior high student. I stopped breathing completely. I wanted to turn around and run out the back door and not look behind me until I was safely outside the school boundaries. But then I heard a familiar voice. "Leave them alone, Conrad." I turned around, and so close to me I could hear him breathing was my Jess. I was so happy to see him I could hardly contain myself. But I had to stay cool. Screaming and giving him a big hug like I wanted wouldn't help either one of our reputations. Thankfully, Jess didn't care much about his. He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Hey."
Conrad let out a loud, mocking, "Ha! Dating an eighth grader, are we, Tyler?" He flashed his white teeth at the crowd forming around us then glared back at Jess. "I would have thought someone like you would set your standards a little higher than that."
Jess kept his hand on my shoulder as he turned toward Conrad. He wasn't flustered in the least. "I wouldn't let it bother you, Conrad. I'm sure there will be a girl left for you." He lifted his shoulders. "And then you'll have a whole new set of things to worry about." And with that Jess looked away, as though Conrad was no more than a helpless mouse.
Conrad watched us skeptically before growing bored and turning back into the crowd. I looked at Jess, bewildered. I had never seen him like this. I mean he talked smack to me all the time. But we were just joking around. I didn't know he talked that way to big, burly guys named Conrad. I looked around at the ninth graders standing around us. I couldn't help but notice the way all the girls looked at him with their flirting eyes-willing him to look at them. I looked back at Jess, who was oblivious to their pining.
I was about to speak when Clarissa let go of my hand and shimmied her way between Jess and me, knocking his hand loose from my shoulder.
"Hey, Jess!" Clarissa spoke in an unnaturally high voice. "Thanks for bailing us out. You made that guy look like a total idiot!"
Jess's face turned downward, and he almost looked concerned. He looked back toward the direction that Conrad went. "Conrad's not such a bad guy."
"Well, I don't think you're such a bad guy either." Clarissa shifted her hips so that she stood closer to Jess. I watched him carefully as Clarissa shamelessly flirted. He looked confused.
As a slow song started over the speakers, Clarissa reached up and twirled her index finger in Jess's hair. "Do you want to dance?"
My jaw dropped to the floor. What was she doing? And how was she doing it? I have to say the only person on the dance floor who looked more disorientated than me was Jess. He clearly did not see that coming.
"Uh, well," he cleared his throat and stumbled over a few more words, "sure."
My feet felt like they were cemented to the ground as Jess and Clarissa stepped away from the tightly packed group so they could dance. Jess glanced back at me and pulled a face before they faded into the darker area of the gymnasium. I continued to watch as Clarissa wrapped her arms much too tightly around Jess's neck, and he awkwardly placed his hands on her waist. I hated seeing them together. I hated it when she let her head fall back with laughter at whatever he was saying, and I hated watching him grip her waist tighter when she nearly tripped over his shoe. I couldn't figure out why I was so angry at them. I was the one who wanted them to dance. I was the one who set this whole thing up! And now it was taking everything I had to not pounce on them and tear their hands from each other like a referee in a boxing match.
The song was over before I realized that I had stood in the same position, watching them through the entire song. I quickly shifted my gaze to the disco ball as they made their way back to Nina and me.
A moment later Nina leaned in behind me and whispered in a fluttery sing-song voice, "Trace incoming." The sound of his name made me panic, and my breath caught at the bottom of my throat. I wanted to rewind back to the beginning of the week and tell Clarissa-stupid Clarissa!-that I did not want to dance with Trace, and she could not ask him if he liked me. That stupid deal! To think that the only thing I was getting out of this was Clarissa asking Jess to dance-the very scene that just made me want to puke!
When Clarissa and Nina stepped away to decide how to approach Trace, I stole a glance at him standing against the far wall. He was wearing a dark blue dress shirt with a silver tie and black slacks. He looked like he'd stepped straight out of a GQ magazine. But other than his suit, he looked exactly the same. He didn't need to make a special effort for the dance, I thought; he just always looked dreamy.
Jess must have seen me looking at him. "There's Prince Charming. I was wondering when we were going to get this show on the road."
"I'm glad you're getting a kick out of watching my dignity being flushed down the toilet."
"Just tell Clarissa and Nina that you don't want them to do it. They're your friends. They'll respect that."
I shook my head. "It's too late. We had a deal, and Clarissa has already done her part of the deal."
"What was her part of the deal?" We both looked at Clarissa, who looked as if she didn't have a worry in the world. "I have the feeling that her side of the deal was a bit easier than yours."
I felt sweat building up underneath my armpits. "It was so easy for her. She just walked right up and asked you to dance, like it was no big deal."
Jess's eyes widened. "What? You told Clarissa she could do all of this to you if she would just ask me to dance?"
I couldn't do anything but nod.
"Wow, if I would have known she was asking out of obligation, I would have said no. She has so much hairspray on that I swear it is sticking to the walls of my lungs." Jess let out a fake cough.
"I'm so sorry," I started. "It was a stupid bet and I shouldn't
have gotten you in the middle of it."
Jess's fake coughing turned into a smothered bout of laughter.
"You're not mad?"
"Mad?" He stopped laughing. "How could I be mad? You are basically hyperventilating over here because Clarissa and Nina are going to tell Trace you like him, all because you thought you were helping me dance with a girl that you thought I liked. How could I be mad at you for that?" Jess cleared a stray eyelash from my cheek. "I don't deserve a friend as good as you."
Jess's closeness eased my nerves, and I felt my breathing slowing down to a more even pace. I almost forgot the whole terrible situation going on around me when Jess looked over my head and said, "Uh-oh."
I twisted around to face what he was looking at. Through the crowd I saw Clarissa and Nina, standing in front of Trace Weston!
No! I yelled in my head, but no word came out of my mouth. I wanted to scream, but it was too late. The damage was being done, and there was nothing that I could do. But I didn't have to watch. Without looking back at Jess, I bolted from the tight group of ninth graders and headed straight for the double doors that led to the hall. Without stopping, I went straight into the bathroom, which was still packed with giddy teenage girls and their disgustingly potent body sprays. I didn't look at anyone as I shimmied my way into the stall farthest away from the door and locked the stall door behind me. How could this be happening to me? How did I let it get this far? I wanted to cry, but I didn't let myself. I wasn't wearing any makeup, so I didn't have to worry about mascara smearing-a problem that I'd heard other girls had when they cried-but I couldn't bear to face anyone at my first Valentine's Dance with red, puffy eyes. When enough time had passed that I was sure the illusive conversation between Clarissa, Nina, and Trace was over, I allowed myself to open the squeaky pink stall door. I was now alone in the bathroom. I guessed that meant the dance was almost over. No one wanted to be in the bathroom for the last dance, just in case someone happened to ask them.
I willed myself to walk out of the bathroom and into the hall one lead footstep at a time. I gradually reentered the gymnasium. It felt smaller this time. Clarissa and Nina were up by the ninth graders again, talking to each other. Jess was by the back wall, drinking punch with a couple other ninth grade boys. I didn't look for Trace. I wouldn't be able to bear making eye contact with him now. As soon as Clarissa and Nina saw me, they ran over to me-both of them looking awkward in their way too grown-up high heels.
"Gemma! We asked him!" Nina balled up her fists like a cheer leader.
"What did you say? What did he say?" I braced myself for their answers.
Clarissa spoke this time, "We just told him you liked him!" She shrugged her shoulders as though it wasn't a big deal at all. "He didn't seem that surprised. And then we told him that if he likes you back he should ask you to dance the last dance."
I felt so exposed.
"He smiled!" Nina added, and her words changed the situation entirely.
I looked straight into Nina's eyes, then to Clarissa's. "He smiled? Really? A nice smile or a disgusted smile?"
Clarissa looked at Nina questioningly. "Mmm, hard to say."
"No," Nina disagreed, "it was definitely a nice smile."
"Don't get her hopes up," Clarissa said as though I weren't standing right there.
At that moment the music was hushed and our principal's voice blared through the speakers, "The next song is going to be our last, so let's see everyone out on the dance floor. And be safe on your way home."
A romantic song started as everyone around me began to break off into pairs. Nina and Clarissa were asked to dance before the introduction was over, leaving me standing alone waiting for Trace to find me in the crowd. I could feel my face starting to get hot as the singer began the first verse. I wondered how long the song was, and I wondered how long I should wait for Trace. I had just about given up when I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. I stopped breathing as I slowly turned around. It was Jess.
"Hey," he smiled apologetically, "I know I'm not the person you wanted to see right now, but-"
Before he could finish, I threw my arms around his neck. "I couldn't be happier to see you!" I squeezed him so hard. Maybe I was holding on for dear life. I knew that if I let go I would slip into the most humiliating experience of my life.
Jess grimaced when I finally let go of his neck. "No Trace, huh?"
I shook my head.
"Well, I know I said I would never dance the last dance, but I figure-"
"I would love to!" I quickly stepped toward Jess, but he stepped away as quickly as I moved in. "What's wrong?" I felt a pang of embarrassment flash through my body. Maybe he hadn't been asking me to dance after all.
"We can't dance right here."
I looked around me. We were in the back of the gymnasium right by the punch table. The only people around us were teachers and a couple of uncomfortable and un-asked seventh graders. "Okay, where should we go then?" I was afraid of his answer. If I knew Jess as well as I thought I did he'd want us to go out on the soccer field away from the rest of the crowd. So I was surprised when he pointed to the front of the room where the ninth graders were packed together. "Up there? There's no room!"
"Sure there is. Besides, we have to let this Trace kid know what he's missing."
Jess took hold of my hand and led me toward the front of the gymnasium. Holding his hand made me feel safe from the disappointment that was surrounding my head. Jess stopped as soon as we were close enough to the crowd to look "involved" but far away enough to breathe. He pulled my hand across my body until I spun under his arm. When I had completed the spin, I was locked safely in his arms.
"Are you kidding me?" I looked up at his face and was surprised to see him so close.
He looked genuinely confused. "What?"
"Where did you pull that move from? Mr. `I wouldn't dance the last dance if someone paid me.' You've always made it sound like you couldn't dance!"
Jess rolled his eyes. "I have two sisters. What do you expect?"
I stared up at Jess; he used to seem so much taller. I didn't realize I had grown so much over the past couple of years. The last time I stood this close to Jess was when he was hoisting me up into our old tree fort in the woods behind my house. That was at least two summers ago. Back then my eye level was about to his chest. Now my forehead came right about to his chin. And he had even grown a couple inches himself. Being this close to him I couldn't help but take in his smell. Jess wasn't the type to drown himself in cologne, but instead he smelled like fresh soap from this morning's shower mixed with the electrifying scent of men's deodorant. As the song played on, Jess and I stopped talking, and soon we were dancing so close that my cheek was nuzzled into the side of his smooth neck. I always thought that I knew Jess so well. I knew the exact laugh lines that would appear on his face when I made a funny joke. I knew what made him angry, frustrated, or annoyed. I knew when he needed a haircut and when he hadn't studied enough for a test. But in all the years that we had spent together, I had never been this close to him. I had never felt the softness of his skin against my face.
"Can I cut in?"
I knew that piercing female voice all too well.
I pulled myself a few inches away from Jess's firm grasp to see Clarissa standing at our sides with her hands clasped behind her back. Both Jess and I looked at her with our mouths gaping.
Jess spoke first. "Right now isn't a good time," he started. But before he could say more, I interrupted him.
"It's okay, Jess." I was still staring at Clarissa, wondering how she could take Jess away from me now when Trace had obviously decided not to ask me to dance. But I didn't want either one of them to feel sorry for me. I wanted to prove that I was okay on my own. I released my hold on Jess's neck, and I felt him do the same. The air around me felt cold without Jess's heat surrounding me. Jess watched me with uncertain eyes as I stepped away and Clarissa inserted herself in my spot between his arms. I left the dark gymnasium, and even thoug
h it was against the rules, I walked down the hall to my locker and took out the bag I had packed with jeans and a sweatshirt. My first last dance had been horrible. Trace didn't like me. And now Jess was dancing with Clarissa for the second time, up close and intimate. I went to a distant bathroom where I could no longer hear the music from the dance. I changed out of my dress and mismatched shoes and put on my comfortable clothes. The clothes that didn't reek of rejection.
Twenty minutes later Jess and I were walking across the old soccer field headed for home. So far it was as though the dance had never existed. Jess was playing with a helium balloon when I met him, and he had been sucking out the air and talking like a chipmunk ever since. Once he used up all the helium, he stuffed the saggy balloon in his pants pocket and cleared his throat. "So, Clarissa cut in while we were dancing."
I raised an eyebrow at his subtle approach of bringing the subject up. "Yeah, I know. I was there."
Jess looked down at his shoes as he walked. "You don't have to let someone cut in when they ask, you know. It's not a rule."
"Well apparently it's also not a rule to ask someone to dance just because their friends asked you to do it." I kicked at an old wrapper that was floating around on the grass.
"Trace just doesn't know what he's missing."
I knew Jess was just being nice. Trace knew exactly what he was missing. He was missing an eighth grade moron who stalked him during algebra class. But it felt better to agree with Jess, so I puffed out my chest and said, "Yeah! Trace Weston doesn't deserve me. I'm done with him!"
Jess clapped his hands once, but then both of our hands fell to our sides. We walked in silence for a moment, soaking up the fact that I had been undeniably rejected today.
Second Kiss Page 3
