by Tim Mettey
**
“So, Elle, are you excited about being on the Homecoming Court?” I asked, propping myself up with my backpack against the wall, finally under the stairs with her.
“No, not really.”
“Why not?”
“Homecoming Court is just some stupid popularity contest,” Elle said, not looking up from her salad and grape pop.
“What’s wrong with that?” I asked.
Elle looked up. She looked angry.
“Elle, are you okay? I’m sorry if I made you mad.”
She gave a half-hearted laugh and said, “Nicholas, you didn’t make me mad. It’s just that no one paid attention to me last year or the year before, and now I’m on the Homecoming Court after being invisible for two years. I never fit in with the popular crowd because I never gossiped, had the right clothes, or had the right zip code . . . and I was okay with that. But everything changed when I got contacts, began to wear some make-up, and had a certain football player begin to like me. I know what you’re thinking—why did I do all of that if I didn’t want to be noticed? I’m not shallow, Nicholas. I just wanted to be happy with what I saw in the mirror.” Tears welled up in her stormy eyes.
“Nicholas, I didn’t care about what anyone else thought, but now people want to be my best friend and be around me. On the inside, I’m still the same Elle that they never noticed.” Elle was shredding her napkin in her lap. She took a deep breath, looking angry.
“Elle, I would still like you, even if you wore glasses and no make-up. You could never be invisible to me.”
She laughed, wiping away a couple of tears that rolled down her cheek. “Well, of course you would, Nicholas. You are different. You are such a good friend.” She smiled.
“Elle, would you go to Homecoming with me?”
“Nicholas, I can’t go with you. I’m going with someone else. . . . I’m going with Oliver.”
The fire burned in me, consuming my soul. “Who?” I said.
“Oliver,” she repeated, but in a whisper like it was some terrible secret.
“So are you dating?” I asked.
“No way, we are going as friends. I would never date him. Our parents have been friends for a long time, and Oliver was that football player who I said liked me.”
“What does that have to do with you going with him to the dance? I thought you hated the fact you’ve become popular.”
“Oliver asked me after the first football game, and I had to say yes. Nicholas, if it makes you feel any better, I would rather go with you. You are the only person I would like to share that night with. We have become such great friends.”
