Homecoming Queen

by Melody Carlson

  “I’ll miss you tonight,” he said finally.

  “I’ll miss you too.”

  “If you’re not too wiped out from all your activities tomorrow, maybe we could go out.”

  “Sounds great,” she told him. And she’d make sure she was up for it, even if she had to take an afternoon nap. “Have fun tonight.”

  “Get some rest.”

  She closed her phone and sighed. Maybe she would ask him about being exclusive tomorrow night. Not as in suggesting it, of course, but she would simply mention that someone had asked her and that she hadn’t had an answer.

  “Sounds like all is well in the ongoing romance of Conner and DJ,” said Taylor.

  “I didn’t know you were lurking in the bathroom again,” said DJ, sitting up to frown at her intrusive roommate.

  “Lurking?” Taylor shook her head. “I thought I had the right to use that room just as much as you.”

  “Why don’t you close the door when you’re in there?”

  “Because I was simply touching up my makeup, DJ. It’s not like I need that much privacy to do my face. If you’re so freaked about being overheard, maybe you should close the stupid door yourself. Or have your little sweetheart chats someplace else.”

  “Whatever.” DJ leaned back into the pillows and exhaled loudly. “I’m too tired to fight with you anyway.”

  “And too tired to go out too?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I hope I’m never too tired to go out,” said Taylor.

  “Are you going out?”

  “With Nick Jefferson.”

  DJ sat up and stared at Taylor. “Nick Jefferson is Madison Dormont’s boyfriend.”

  “Ex-boyfriend.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since . . .” She glanced at her watch. “Almost exactly an hour ago.”

  “Seriously?”

  Taylor nodded with a smug look. “Nick heard Casey’s little announcement this afternoon.”

  “And?”

  “He told me that he had thought the website was bogus from the start.” She pulled on what looked like a new red leather jacket. “Then he told me that he figured I would look way better than the body Casey had pasted to my head.”

  “He actually said that?”

  She zipped up the jacket and grinned. “He did. Then he asked to meet me for coffee. Naturally, I told him that I had to return your car first.”

  “Naturally.”

  “So I came back, got my Vespa, and met him at McHenry’s.” Taylor did a last check of her hair, which as usual was perfect. “Anyway, we were just finishing up, and guess who walked in?”

  It didn’t take a genius to see where this was going. “Madison?”

  “Yep. And she was furious.”

  DJ looked at the clock by her bed. It was 5:45. “And that must’ve been about 4:45 then? The time of the big breakup?”

  “In front of witnesses too.”

  “And you’re actually going out with him tonight?”

  “Dinner, and then we’ll make an appearance at the game.”

  “An appearance?”

  “Well, I am running for homecoming queen, DJ. I should at least act like I’m interested in football, don’t you think?”

  “I think you’ve just given Madison the sympathy vote.”

  Taylor shrugged. “She can have it.” Then she blew an air kiss at DJ. “Have a nice evening, little invalid.”

  “Thanks a lot.” DJ made a face as Taylor made her exit. She didn’t want to let it get to her, but sometimes that whole “invalid” thing stung. Even if this was only a temporary state, she thought Taylor could have a bit more empathy.

  Finally, despite being tired, DJ decided to make the trip downstairs to see if anyone was interested in watching a DVD. But she quickly discovered that all the girls in Carter House were going out tonight. Rhiannon, the only straggler, informed DJ that Kriti had tagged along with Eliza and Harry to the game and that Casey had just left on a movie date with Garrison. And finally, that Rhiannon was actually going to hear a lecture with Josh Trundle.

  “A lecture?” queried DJ.

  “About early photography,” Rhiannon told her. “We heard about it in journalism class, and we’re both really into photography. He asked me to go, and I thought why not?”

  “Good for you.” DJ patted her on the back. She considered telling her that Taylor was going out with Nick Jefferson, which left Bradford wide open; but she suspected that Rhiannon wouldn’t care one way or another anyway.

  “It’s not like this is a date.” Rhiannon peered in the foyer mirror now, adjusting her brown velvet beret to a jaunty angle.

  “No. No, of course, not.” DJ nodded. “But, just so you know, I think Josh is sweet. It was interesting interviewing with him.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Rhiannon said, “the article will be in the paper on Monday. It’s too bad the paper takes so long to come out. It’s usually old news by the time it’s in print.”

  “Does anyone really read it?”

  Rhiannon frowned. “Hopefully somebody reads it.”

  “Anyway, I got the impression that Josh is actually curious about God. I mean, in an offhanded sort of way.”

  “He claims to be an atheist, DJ.”

  “At least he’s honest.”

  Rhiannon smiled. “But I have my own little theory about atheists.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I think they’re just begging for someone to prove that God is real.”

  “You’d be the perfect one to do that.”

  “Oh, I don’t think I can prove anything. But I can try to point him in the right direction.”

  “You go, girl.”

  By the time DJ made it down to dinner, now both tired and hungry, she was informed that, since everyone was going out, Clara had been given the night off and Grandmother had gone out to dinner with her good friend the general.

  “I fixed myself a microwave dinner,” Inez told her, “and I plan to eat it in my room in front of the television — undisturbed.”

  “You don’t have a TV in your room,” DJ pointed out.

  “Maybe not while you were there, but I do have one.” Inez smiled slyly.

  DJ went into the kitchen to forage for food. There were some leftovers, but nothing looked too appealing. What she was really craving was Hammerhead fish and chips. But she knew they didn’t deliver. Maybe Conner would take her there tomorrow night. In the meantime, she would call out for pizza.

  Of course, it ended up taking more than an hour for the delivery to be made. And when it came, it was not only cold, but tasted like the box it had been sitting in for too long. She ate a few slices anyway, and then she threw the rest of it away. She hoped Grandmother wouldn’t spy the box and give her another lecture about fat and carbs. DJ knew the words by heart.

  “Is that what you’re wearing?” asked Grandmother when DJ finally made it back downstairs again. She’d just finished an exhausting physical therapy session when Grandmother had reminded her that the other girls had already gone to town for their fittings for the “big” fashion show and that DJ needed to go as well. As a result, DJ had hobbled up the stairs, freshened up a bit, then hurried back down. Now she was beat.

  “I just finished my physical therapy,” she said plainly, just in case Grandmother didn’t remember that she’d been the one to drop her off and pick her up, complaining about the early hour for the Saturday appointment.

  “But I thought the reason we came home was so you could change,” persisted Grandmother. “Into something respectable.”

  “I’m tired, Grandmother. And in case you haven’t noticed, I have a broken leg. And if you really insist on having me try on clothes, you’re going to have to take me as is — sweats and all.”

  “Sweats.” Grandmother wrinkled her nose. “Such an appropriate word for your attire.”

  “And easy to get off and on,” pointed out DJ. “Much better for trying on clothes.”

  “Yes, yes
. Well, let’s get going then. The other girls are already there by now. I hope you don’t mind that I let Taylor drive your car. That way she can give you a ride home. I will stay to meet with the fashion show committee. After the rehearsal we have some details to work out before next week.”

  Thanks to Grandmother’s influence in the fashion world, several up-and-coming New York designers had donated clothing for the girls to wear, and The Chic Boutique had been selected as the retail host for the show. This was a change, as well as an upgrade, from the usual — Macy’s. As a result, the local media sources were interested, and by the time DJ and Grandmother arrived cameras were shooting. The girls, particularly the homecoming queen candidates, seemed to be vying for camera time. DJ was surprised to see that Madison was there, but then there were about twenty girls altogether. Why wouldn’t Madison and her friends be included? At the moment, Eliza was standing between Madison and Taylor, smiling directly into the camera lens as if she were imagining herself wearing the crown with her “court” surrounding her.

  Taylor looked pleased with herself too, but Madison, although smiling, had a wicked look in her eye — like she was planning on tearing Taylor’s hair out by the roots or perhaps slip a little arsenic into her water bottle. Hopefully there wouldn’t be a serious cat fight today, although DJ suspected that might get the whole thing even more news time.

  “And what do we have here?” asked Bonnie Hudson, as she moved toward DJ with the microphone. The cameras naturally followed, and suddenly DJ wished she had changed out of her sweats. “Surely, you don’t plan to participate in the fashion show with a broken leg, do you?”

  DJ laughed. “Well, my grandmother seems to think I should.”

  Bonnie did a quick recap of DJ’s heroic rescue from last week. “And, tell us, DJ, how are you doing? Feeling a little better now?”

  “A lot better, actually. My physical therapist told me that I can drive my car now. And I’ll probably be off these crutches by the end of next week.” DJ smiled into the camera.

  “Yes,” said Grandmother, pressing in next to DJ. “And that is exactly why we wanted to include her in this big fashion event.” Then Grandmother did her best to publicize the fundraiser, listing the names of the designers. “They are allowing us to wear the same clothing that was on the runway last spring — their fall fashion lineup. We are very fortunate.”

  Bonnie nodded then turned back to DJ. “So, DJ, since you plan to be crutch-free by the end of next week, does that mean you’ll be at the Crescent Cove High homecoming too? Your friends were just telling us about it. Do you plan to attend the festivities and the dance?”

  DJ laughed again. “I might go to the dance, but I doubt that I’ll be doing much dancing. If I’m able to walk without crutches, it will involve a cane and a walking boot. Not exactly a graceful setup.”

  Bonnie smiled. “Well, we’re just glad to see you’re doing well. And, once again, we wish you the best.”

  Soon the media was on its way to a car wreck on a nearby interstate, and the girls were inside The Chic Boutique, which was closed for regular business. Voices were being raised as twenty Crescent Cove High School girls now competed for clothes.

  DJ, of course, knew that this wasn’t only about clothes.

  DJ and Madison reached for the same red dress. “Just because you hogged the media,” Madison snapped, “doesn’t mean you get to hog the best clothes too.”

  DJ was pretty sure that she’d reached first, but she pulled her hand back just the same. No way was she going to get into it with Madison. Not with a broken leg and cracked ribs. “Sorry,” she said casually. “I was just looking for something that would be easy to try on over my walking cast.”

  “Excuse me,” said Eliza as she snatched the hanger from Madison’s hand. “But DJ gets first pick today.”

  “Says who?” Madison turned and glared at Eliza now.

  “That’s okay, Eliza,” said DJ quickly. She thought she could see actual smoke shooting out of Madison’s nostrils now. “She can have it.”

  “No, she can’t,” said Eliza in a pleasant but firm voice. She pushed the red dress toward DJ. “Go and try this on.”

  Madison stepped directly in front of Eliza now. “Look, Miss I’m-So-Sweet-Southern-Belle, I don’t know what makes you think you rule the world or that you can take over our town and our school and everything, but some of us are getting sick and tired of you and the rest of your Carter House girls.”

  Eliza blinked. “Well, now, Madison. Let’s not lose our heads over a silly little red dress.”

  Madison grabbed the dress, pulling it so hard that DJ heard a tear.

  “What’s going on here?” demanded Louise Bristow. She was part of the fashion show committee and a friend of Grandmother’s.

  “I think Madison is in a bad mood today,” said Eliza innocently. “DJ had picked up this dress first. She thought it would be easy to put on because of her broken leg and all. Madison got angry because she wanted the dress for herself. And now she has just torn it.”

  Louise scowled at Madison. “Let me see the dress.”

  Madison handed it over.

  Louise adjusted her glasses and peered closely at the dress then shook her head. “Madison Dormont, you have torn this dress!” Now Louise held the dress in the air and called out loudly. “Girls, girls, everyone needs to be quiet and listen to me for a moment. Most of the clothes you will be wearing are design originals. Isn’t that correct, Katherine?”

  Grandmother nodded. “Yes. Very expensive design originals. As I already mentioned, they were part of Fall Fashion Week, which was held last spring.”

  “And you need to handle them with care,” said Louise. “Madison Dormont, in an ugly display of temper, has damaged a dress. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  All eyes were on Madison now, but she just glowered at them with her arms folded across her chest and said nothing.

  “Well!” Louise looked seriously angry now. “I am therefore dismissing Madison from the fashion show,” she declared. Several gasps were heard, and then Louise continued. “Let this be a warning to all of you. If you girls cannot get along, and if you cannot act like ladies, you will not be part of this show. Is that perfectly clear?”

  The boutique owner unlocked the front door, and with a dark frown for Madison, she waited for the angry girl to stomp out of the shop. “There,” she said as she closed and locked the door then made a pretense of brushing off her hands. “Good riddance of bad rubbish.”

  Some of the girls laughed, but others — particularly Madison’s friends — looked around uncomfortably. And before long they all returned to selecting clothes, with a bit more care now.

  “I see a scene with pig’s blood coming for someone,” DJ said under her breath to Taylor.

  “Hey, we should watch that movie tonight,” said Taylor.

  “Sounds good,” said DJ, “but I have a date.”

  “Oh, right.” Taylor picked up a slinky black top and examined it more closely.

  It took a while, but finally it seemed that everyone had at least one outfit. Some of the girls, like Eliza and Taylor, had three outfits. This had been Grandmother’s doing. She hoped to get them a little exposure for next weekend. DJ got to beg off with just one, saying that it would take her forever just to change into that. She had decided on a sophisticated camel-colored cashmere knit dress. “It doesn’t really go with this,” she teased as she held the dress above her blue boot. “But maybe I can get some brown spray paint and give the boot a makeover.”

  When they were done with the fitting and practicing walking the runway at the historic Keller Tavern where the fashion show would take place the next Saturday, Taylor drove DJ home. Casey had gone next door to Starbucks to meet Garrison. DJ thought Taylor was acting slightly odd, like something was wrong.

  “So, how was your date with Nick last night?” asked DJ, hoping to find out what was bugging her.

  “Great. I like him. He likes me.”

&n
bsp; “I’m glad that Madison didn’t get to lay her claws into you today. She looked like she had murder on her mind.”

  “Someone should tell that girl that anger is unbecoming in a homecoming queen candidate.”

  “Yeah, I’d nominate someone like you to do that.”

  Now there was a lull in the conversation, and DJ wondered once again if something was troubling Taylor. It wasn’t like her to be this quiet. Not without the radio or CD player going.

  “Uh, DJ?” Taylor finally broke the silence, but her voice sounded slightly odd now. Almost as if she were being sympathetic and very un-Taylor like.

  “Huh?”

  “I want to tell you something, except that I really don’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, it’s about Conner . . .”

  “What about Conner?”

  “He was at the game last night.”

  “I know.”

  “With Haley.”

  DJ bit her lip as she tried to wrap her head around this bit of news. “You mean Haley was at the game and Conner was at the game? Like they met up there and sat together?”

  “Not exactly. More like they came together. They sat together. And they left together.”

  “Oh.” DJ imagined Conner and Haley . . . together at the game . . . and after the game . . . and she didn’t like what she was seeing.

  “I know that you think I’m the Queen of Mean and that I’d really get a kick out of hurting you, but that’s not true.”

  “I don’t think that.”

  “I just thought you should know.”

  “Yeah.” DJ felt a lump growing in her throat. “Did you see anything else? I mean, that you think I should know about?”

  Taylor didn’t answer. She pressed her lips together and looked straight ahead.

  “What?”

  “I saw them kissing in the parking lot before they got into his pickup.”

  19

  CONNER WAS AT CARTER HOUSE when Taylor and DJ pulled up. His pickup was parked in front, and he was sitting on the porch steps, with his head literally hanging.

  “I’m going in the back door,” said Taylor as she gave DJ the keys. Then she got DJ’s crutches from the backseat and set them next to the opened passenger door, pausing to put a hand on DJ’s shoulder. “Hang in there, invalid girl.”