“Stop it! Jason, stop!” In sheer panic, I found that my grip and pull on his leg had become Hulk-like, and somehow I managed to yank him off the table. Jason regained his balance as easy as a cat and stood there laughing, continuing to block my way.
“You know there’s only one thing that’s going to make me stop. So how ’bout it?”
I couldn’t make my mouth do much more than gasp. Jason shrugged and took a step towards the table again—
“Fine—whatever. Can I leave now?” I yelled as loudly as I dared in the library. And finally, thankfully, Jason stepped away from the table and moved to let me pass with a sweeping, old-world bow and a far too victorious grin, but as I quickly moved past him, my eyes caught sight of two maroon and gold letterman jackets. Brad. And Jeff. Neither of them was smiling. I felt like a bug about to be squashed as they glanced at each other before brushing past me to move towards Jason.
“I’ll be picking you up Saturday—don’t be dogging me!” Jason bellowed, interrupting my thoughts, still laughing his stupid head off.
“Whatever!” I threw over my shoulder. I didn’t turn to look back at him as I hurried down the aisle. It wasn’t until I’d turned the corner that I realized I was smiling—grinning broadly—and that my heart was pounding away. Excitedly.
~
Crystal and Mistie both screamed in unison that night at Mistie’s during a Friday sleepover.
“I can’t believe Jason West asked you to homecoming!” Crystal gushed.
I punched Crystal in the arm. “Thanks a lot! Is it really that much of a shock?”
Crystal rubbed her arm. “It’s just that I’m sure everyone thought he’d take Angela.”
“So did I. I still can’t believe what happened.” In fact, I still couldn’t. The invitation had been so strange and unusual I wasn’t completely convinced that it had happened.
“He definitely picked a bizarre way to ask you, but at least you got asked.” Mistie had a wistful smile on her face that made me feel guilty I’d been asked at all.
“Yeah, I wish someone would ask me,” Crystal agreed. “What bugs me even more, though, are the guys like my brother, Dennis, who’ll let the dance go by and won’t feel the urge to ask anyone. It just makes me so mad!”
“Well, you have to admit, Crystal, that Kathy deserves to go more than we do,” Mistie said, reaching for a slice of pizza.
“Why is that?” Crystal demanded.
“Don’t tell me you don’t remember what Saturday is?”
Crystal looked thoughtful for a second, took a swig of cola, and nearly choked on it before giving me a shove. “I can’t believe I forgot your birthday!”
“The big Sweet Sixteen!” Mistie grinned before giving me a huge wink.
But I hadn’t forgotten. It was part of the reason my heart had pounded so fast and loud when Jason had forced me—tricked me—into going to the dance with him. Me, of all people!
“Wow! Not only can you get your driver’s license now, but you get to go to homecoming. With Jason West! On your sixteenth birthday!” Crystal sighed melodramatically. “If only we could be so lucky!”
“I still can’t believe it’s really true,” I said. I still couldn’t. I dug into the pizza until Mistie turned to me expectantly.
“You’ve got a dress, don’t you?”
A dress? “I hadn’t really thought that far ahead yet.”
Crystal laughed. “Well, you better! The dance is a week from tomorrow!”
“Well, then, I guess we’ll be hitting the malls tomorrow!” Mistie said eagerly while Crystal nodded and grinned. “We can grab a bus and hit all the best stores.” So without even an okay from me, Mistie and Crystal planned our big shopping trip to hunt for my dress. I called home in the morning to let Mom know what our plans were and got Dad on the phone instead.
“Well, don’t leave until I come by Mistie’s house, okay?”
“Okay, Dad.” I wasn’t sure what he was up to, but I was truly surprised—touched, really—when Dad showed up fifteen minutes later with one of his credit cards.
“Pick yourself out something nice, honey. You deserve it,” Dad said, pressing the card into my hand.
“Dad—are you sure?” I couldn’t believe my dad was being so cool!
“Of course I am. I want you to get something nice that you’ll really like. Consider it an early birthday present from your mom and me.”
“Well, wow—thanks. Thanks, Dad.” I probably should’ve hugged him, but I hadn’t done that in forever and wasn’t sure how to propel myself into one.
“Just don’t stay out too late. Be back home before dark, okay?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Do you really think it’ll take me that long to find a dress?”
Dad grinned. “All I know is that it took weeks for Sam to find something for these dances. But something tells me you’ll make up your mind a little quicker than she ever did.”
Dad was right, but I was still pretty surprised at how fast I found the dress I wanted. I knew it was the one for me before I even tried it on. The dress was a deep blue in a shimmering, shiny material—straight cut to the floor, coming in sharp and tight at the waist with a walking slit, no sleeves, and a high choker neck that fastened in the back with a vertical row of little pearl buttons. The kicker was the open back. It didn’t expose my entire back, but it showed off enough skin to guarantee a few raised eyebrows.
I loved it. Absolutely.
Both Mistie and Crystal oohed and ahhed over it, and before I knew it, I was back home with a fancy dress bag over my arm with a fancy dress in it. And a fancy pair of black high heels that I hoped wouldn’t cause me to break an ankle.
~
I’d been home maybe seconds when Sam and Alex and their families arrived.
“Well, don’t keep us in suspense. Let’s see it!”
I rolled my eyes and handed the dress bag over to Sam while Alex nudged me in the ribs.
“Snagged a date with that football player, eh? Guess you won’t be ‘sweet sixteen and never been kissed’ for long!” Alex laughed and grabbed me in a headlock, but I wrestled free of him to glare at Dad.
“I guess I have you to thank for telling everyone all the details of my life.”
Dad shrugged and grinned. “So sue me. Sam and Alex both called today asking what we were doing for your birthday. I thought they ought to know what you’re going to be doing.”
Sam had my dress out of the bag and was scrutinizing it, both front and back. “Mom, come in here and take a look at the dress Kathy bought,” Sam yelled before turning to eye me with raised eyebrows. “Don’t you think this dress is a little too grown up for you, Kathy? I don’t even want to know how much you wasted on it.”
Too grown up? Wasted? I could feel the fumes rising in me that Sam was so good at setting off. “I’m going to be sixteen, and I’m going to homecoming. And I didn’t ‘waste’ a cent on this dress. I think it’s perfect, and so do Crystal and Mistie.”
“Crystal and Mistie?” Sam had the nerve to laugh. “Far be it from me to challenge their notable fashion sense.” She shook her head while she critically eyed my beautiful new dress as if it were a dead rat. “This is what happens when you take your friends shopping instead of someone who really knows how to shop for an appropriate dress for a high school dance.”
The fumes were rising higher—so much higher that Alex and Dad were starting to back away from us. “You mean, someone like you? No, thanks. You’re too old to know what’s in style and what’s not!” Sam audibly gasped. I took a step towards her and felt my hands tensing into fists. “You just don’t think I could look good in a dress like this, do you?”
Sam faced me and folded her arms before looking me up and down with narrowed eyes. “I’m not sure you’ve got the figure to pull it off.”
I was aching to yank every carefully placed hair out of Sam’s head but settled for yelling, “Well, then, it’s a good thing your opinion doesn’t mean squat to me!”
Mom was now in the living room, eyeing the open back of the dress, as was Alex, who let out a loud wolf whistle. “Well, at least Jason West will like it. I guess his opinion is the only one that really matters, right, Kathy?” Kudos to Alex for trying to lighten the mood, but Sam and I were too busy trading insults to notice. Mom was all ready to say something about the dress and my rude words to Sam, but when Alex said Jason’s name, Mom froze and dropped her hold on the dress, causing Sam to scramble to catch it before it fell in a wrinkled heap on the floor.
“Jason West?” No girl wants to hear her mom say the name of her date that way.
“Yes, Jason West.” I repeated his name nice and loud and slow.
Mom looked hard at me. “You’re not really going to go with that boy, are you?”
That boy? “Yes, I am,” I said as firmly as I could. Mom was about to loudly protest, but I cut her off. “Good grief, Mom—he’s just a football player. He’s not a hardened criminal!”
Mom turned to Dad with a disbelieving look on her face. “Did you know it was Jason who had asked Kathy to the dance when she called this morning?”
Dad’s grin was gone now. “Yes, I did—”
“And you told her she could go with that boy?”
Alex tried to calm Mom down. “Don’t worry, Mom. It’s just a school dance.”
“That’s right, Mom,” Sam agreed. “Besides, your own two sons were football players, and you didn’t worry about them taking girls to school dances.”
“Well, you can’t count Brett, Sam. He never really went to any dances,” Alex stated.
“He didn’t?”
“No—remember? He was too sick to go—”
A Brett Moment? Right now? I’d been forced to deal with a lot of irritants tonight, but that was one I just couldn’t handle. “This is so not about Brett!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
Alex and Sam jumped, but Mom cut us all off. “You two don’t understand. It’s not the football playing and everything that goes with it I’m worried about. That boy’s a Mormon.” Mom reached up to finger the ever-present locket around her neck while I rolled my eyes and said “Good grief.” But the really weird thing was that Sam and Alex looked surprised.
“Kathy,” Alex said, turning to me with the same concerned look Sam was wearing, “why didn’t you tell us Jason’s a Mormon?”
“I don’t see why it matters,” I said angrily.
“It does matter, because he’s wasting time during their study sessions to preach at her—”
“Mom!”
“—and now he’s asked her to this dance. I just don’t like it—I don’t like it at all!”
Everyone started babbling, so I stalked over to Sam and snatched the dress out of her hands. “You’re all freaks. I’m sorry, but you are. Dad already said I could go, so I’m going. With Jason. And I’m not even going to try and explain anything about how Jason’s not trying to convert me, because none of you will listen. Besides, you have no idea how offensive it is to realize my own family thinks the only reason a hot looking football player would ask me to a dance is because he must be trying to convert me over to his religion. I mean, why else would a cool, popular athlete ask a geek like me?” I jumped off my soapbox, leaving everyone with their mouths hanging open, and stomped off to my room, slamming the door threateningly behind me. I even blasted the Beatles album so I wouldn’t have to hear any of their voices. Or acknowledge the twinge of doubt I’d had since Friday about why Jason had really asked me to the dance—a doubt I couldn’t believe I’d screamed at my family before shutting myself away inside my room.
CHAPTER NINE
Homecoming became a taboo subject with my family. I was actually grateful to have Monday arrive so I could escape them. Not long after I’d slid into my seat in Honors English, my heart pounded as fast as Jason’s sneakers running at breakneck speed down the hall, screeching into his front row desk just as the eight o’clock bell rang. As usual.
“Good morning, Mr. West,” Mrs. Dubois said dryly without looking up from the stack of papers she was thumbing through.
“Good morning, Mrs. Dubois.” I waited to see if Jason would turn around and grin, wink, or wave, but he didn’t. Not that he ever did, but since he had invited me to homecoming on Friday, I’d hoped he’d do—something. But he didn’t. I couldn’t help feeling disappointed.
Mrs. Dubois droned on and on about our reading assignment for the week while she walked up and down the rows, handing out our papers from last week. I was so busy looking over my A paper that I didn’t pay attention to the sound of feet marching in unison, straight into our classroom, until the singing started. A bunch of drill team girls in their shiny, maroon miniskirts, sequined tops, and go-go boots had marched into a half-circle around Jason’s desk and were now chanting with their arms tight behind their backs: “Roses are red, violets are blue, Does Angela want to go to homecoming? She does—with you!”
I couldn’t move or breathe. I could only stare in shock while the drill team girls all turned their backs, only to twirl back to face him one at a time in mind-numbing, fast succession, each one holding up a large card with a letter on it until they’d spelled out, “Angela says yes!”
Unbelievable. My heart had been pounding—and now had dropped into my shoes. I couldn’t speak—I didn’t know what to say. Jason blushed and grinned and acted embarrassed as he received some nice hearty slaps on the back from a few stud boys. While Mrs. Dubois tried to shush the class back to order, Jason finally dared to make eye contact with me. I looked away when he did and didn’t look at him again. The second the bell rang, I darted out in a clump of students before he could grab me. I heard him say my name, but I couldn’t deal with him right then. I was too close to tears, and the fact was truly annoying.
~
I was dreading tutor/study hall, but at the same time, I was glad Jason would have to face me. I was determined to keep my emotions focused on calm anger. Otherwise, I was sure the tears I’d been holding back all day would come out in an embarrassing rush. I didn’t look up when I heard him coming down the aisle or when I heard his footsteps slow and come to a halt. He didn’t sit down but tentatively said, “Hey, Kathy.” I didn’t answer, and after a second he set his backpack down and slid quietly into his chair.
“Pretty exciting morning in English, wouldn’t you say?” I said as unemotionally as I possibly could, still without looking up from my book.
“Yeah, I was pretty surprised.”
“You can’t imagine how surprised I was.” I finally looked up. Jason actually looked somewhat—ashamed. Uneasy, at least. I couldn’t decide if that made me feel better or worse.
“Kathy—about that. You know—last Friday? We were just joking around. About homecoming and everything, right? It was just a stupid joke.”
I looked at Jason evenly. “Oh, sure. I see. Going to the dance with me would be just a stupid joke.”
“I didn’t say that. Now who’s putting words into someone’s mouth!” Jason tried to smile, but my cold look stopped him.
“Whatever. All I know is that it’s pretty obvious you went ahead and asked Angela over the weekend, even though you asked me to the dance on Friday.”
Jason floundered. “It wasn’t like that. You—you don’t understand, Kathy—”
“I don’t understand what?” I interrupted calmly.
“The kind of—pressure—I’m under.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t understand ‘pressure’?”
“Not like the kind I’m under—because I’m—you know—” Jason was really looking uncomfortable now. Truly squirming in his seat.
I could feel myself starting to boil. It was like having Saturday night reheated. “I see. I don’t understand pressure because I’m not a big popular athlete. Or on the drill team. Or something equally as stupid and ridiculous. This must be the same ‘pressure’ that makes it impossible for you to acknowledge my presence in front of your friends.”
“What are you talking
about?”
I fought hard to keep my voice down to a strangled whisper while I gave Jason a good verbal kick in the pants. “You think I can’t see you’re embarrassed—ashamed—to admit you know me in front of all your friends? I’ve passed you a million times in the halls, waiting to see if you’ll condescend to nod your head at me, but you always pretend you either don’t know me or haven’t seen me. You just ignore me. You wouldn’t dare lower yourself in front of your friends by actually saying ‘hi’ to me anywhere.”
Jason’s mouth dropped open. “Well, you don’t exactly look excited to see me, either! I’ve seen you roll your eyes at your friends when you see me. ‘Oh look, here comes the big, dumb jock who’s too stupid to write an English paper on his own.’ I guess it’s only rude for me to ignore you, but it’s okay for you to ignore me?”
Boiling-over time was coming. And fast. “I don’t know why I’m wasting my time on you. You’re too worried about your stupid place in this stupid school and what all your stupid friends think to be a decent human being to anyone. So go ahead and go to the dance with Angela. You two deserve each other, and I deserve better.”
Jason’s eyes narrowed as he studied my angry face. “You can’t just—look, Kathy, I’m sorry. I know I have no idea what it’s like for you, but you have no idea what it’s really like for me. How could you?” He leaned closer to my face. “Besides the obvious fact that I need help in Honors English, do you know why I decided to take tutoring?” I shook my head, returning his glare with a cold one of my own. “My other choice was conditioning with my friends, but I chose tutoring over getting an easy A with them, and do you know why?” he asked again. Again, I shook my head. “Because I’m sick and tired of listening to my friends and everyone on the team tell me what to say, what to wear—even who to ask out. You don’t know what it’s like to start talking about some girl, only to be cut off with, ‘Her? Why do you want to waste your time on her?’” He scowled and slouched deeper into his chair. “I’m just sick of it all. This class offers me one hour a day of relief from—everything.”
The Secret Journal of Brett Colton Page 7
