The Queen of Kentucky

by Alecia Whitaker

  Mackenzie smiles as she fluffs and teases my hair. She lifts her camera and snaps a close shot. “Fierce,” she says, looking at the pic on her digital screen. “Let’s get you up on the tractor.”

  I don’t move as gracefully as Laura, but the two of them patiently direct and position me, oohing and aahing at a few of the shots. I start to loosen up as I follow Mackenzie’s direction. This is fun and, I don’t know, I feel… pretty.

  “I heard there’s a party up in here!”

  My head snaps over to the barn door fast as lightning. I know that voice, and a chill runs all the way up my spine and through my ears. I shudder as his shadow runs long across the barn floor and across my head, which is hanging upside down over the hood of a tractor. My mouth fights gravity and opens wide in shock. David Wolfenbaker is standing in my barn.

  “Wolf!” Mackenzie squeals, standing up instantly and bounding over to him. She looks like it’s Christmas morning. “What in the world are you doing here?”

  “I saw Jimmy at The Square and rode out with him,” Wolf says, oozing confidence as he looks down at her. She twirls a lock of perfect blond hair and cocks out one hip, oozing confidence right back.

  The other girls hop up, too, as the guys trickle in, and I’m off the tractor before you can say “redneck.” Paul is there, looking like he won the lottery as Kimi rubs herself all over him in a big “hug.” I personally know that he hasn’t had a lot of luck with the ladies over the years, so I’m glad for both of them. Jimmy James and Sarah are in a deep lip-lock as soon as their bodies collide and I’m guessing there won’t be much in the way of conversation with either couple this evening.

  “Ever feel like a third wheel?” Laura asks me, grinning.

  “Yeah, I guess we should have been a little more diligent in the text-a-date department,” I joke as I reach around my back, tugging fiercely at the knot in my shirt.

  And then Luke walks in.

  “Oh my gosh,” Laura breathes.

  His frame is impressive in the doorway, his long shadow just one of many filtering through the barn, and his boyish smile is a great substitute for the absent moon. In fact, he looks cute tonight, really cute, yet there’s nothing different about him. I don’t know; same V-neck, same Levi’s, same leather bracelet, but somehow I don’t feel like I’m looking at a guy I’ve known my whole life.

  As he ambles toward us, though, Laura tenses up and I feel bad that he’s walking straight for me, as if she doesn’t even exist.

  “Dang, looks like we’ve got a bunch of America’s Next Top Models in here,” Wolf says, stepping in front of Luke and leading Mackenzie over to where Laura and I stand.

  I shake my head and laugh at myself. It’s Luke, the same old Luke, and I figure I’m just super glad to see him, knowing this isn’t really his scene. It’s always nice to have another ally when Wolf is around.

  “Yeah, we all did makeovers,” Mackenzie says. She bats her mile-long lashes and waits for a compliment, but Wolf is staring at me. I mean, really staring. I blush under his steady gaze and avert my eyes. It’s one thing to be looked at, but another to be examined. Mackenzie puts herself back in his line of vision by stepping next to me and draping her arm around my shoulders.

  “Doesn’t Ericka especially look gorgeous?” she says, squeezing me.

  “She definitely looks… different,” Wolf says.

  I make a face at him. “It’s really me,” I joke drily, then walk past them toward the blanket, where Luke is still standing.

  “Untie this,” I hiss, my back to him and my arms crossed over my stomach.

  “Why you got it all hooched up like this, anyway?” he teases, fumbling with the knot behind me.

  “Mackenzie did it,” I whisper back.

  “Oh, Mackenzie did it.”

  “Ugh! Just shut up and untie me,” I snap back at him. He chuckles and I know he’s taking his sweet time, really enjoying my awkwardness.

  The others walk over and take seats on the blanket, Laura looking at Luke and me through narrowed eyes and Mackenzie sitting so close to Wolf that I have to fight the urge to gag out loud. When I finally feel my shirt loosen, I jerk it down quickly and sit, grabbing Mackenzie’s ponytail holder from Luke and using it to pull back my big, wild hair. I don’t have a mirror, but when Mackenzie teased it she said she was going for “Zombie Glam,” which cannot be a good thing.

  Luke sits down next to me, flips his blond hair off of his forehead a little, and drapes one arm over his knee, a thoughtful look on his face. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you in makeup,” he says, his eyes twinkling. His smile is easy, sincere. Boy, am I glad he showed up.

  “Yeah, we did this smoky-eye thing from Seventeen. Intense, right? My dad would kill me.”

  He chuckles. “He sure would.”

  “But you look great in makeup,” Laura says loudly, almost hysterically, leaning toward us to get in the conversation. “I mean, you could totally be a model.”

  “Yeah, if she grew a foot, maybe,” Wolf jokes.

  “No, seriously,” Laura continues enthusiastically, her head bobbing. “She’s got a ‘look.’ Tyra Banks is always saying it. Like, real models aren’t drop-dead gorgeous. They’re ‘ugly-pretty’—her words, not mine. Like, unique. Right, Mackenzie?”

  I jerk my head back like Laura just slapped me in the face, hard. I shake my head. Did she really just say that?

  “Totally,” Mackenzie agrees, her perfect blond head bobbing vigorously. “She inspires the photographer ’cause she’s so different from the average girl.”

  I gawk, caught completely off guard by their rudeness and really amazed that both girls are looking at me as if they just gave me the compliment of my life. It’s like, we’re all best friends one minute, and then a couple of guys show up and we’re a bunch of chickens, pecking at one another over nothing.

  “That’s stupid,” Luke says sharply, totally out of character, and shoots Laura a look that makes her flush red. “First of all, she’s not ugly-pretty, she’s just normal pretty. What a dumb thing to say. And second, she’s different from the average girl ’cause she doesn’t even need makeup.”

  Silence. Luke looks down at his arm and twirls the leather strap around his wrist. I nudge him, and when he looks up at me I mouth Thank you, not trusting my voice since an unexpected lump has found its way to my throat.

  “I was just saying…” Laura stumbles over the words, her voice low. “I mean… Tyra—”

  “No, Luke’s right, seriously,” Wolf adds loudly. “Some girls wear so much makeup, you’re like, ‘Whoa, are you a girl or a ghoul?’ ” He cracks himself up and Mackenzie titters along with him. Laura is our resident makeup aficionado, a MAC fiend, and never goes anywhere without a totally made-up face. She squirms uncomfortably on the blanket, suddenly interested in her cell phone.

  Two minutes ago I might have felt bad for her, but now, I swallow hard and clear my throat before asking her for the time. It’s two AM.

  “Ugh.” I yawn, losing that famous second wind and the contented, happy, friendship feeling along with it.

  “Oh, are we boring you, Miss Winstead?” Wolf asks, his eyebrows raised.

  It’s hard to believe that sitting next to my dream boy late at night on my own property could ever leave me feeling so blasé; but with my drop-dead gorgeous friend perched perkily on his other side, dibs officially called, my normal nervous energy gives way to exhaustion.

  “Nah.” I shrug. “I’m just pretty sure I turn into a pumpkin at two.”

  Wolf laughs at my little joke and kicks my foot with his. I half laugh, amazed once again at how much power he has over my moods, for better or worse.

  “So, Luke,” Mackenzie says sweetly, “do you know who you’re going to take to homecoming?”

  She blinks and sort of cocks her head toward Laura, as if sending a subliminal message. I roll my eyes at the obvious setup.

  “Um,” Luke says, squirmy. He looks to me for help. I totally know that
look, but I don’t know how to help him out of this one so I just shrug my shoulders and give him my most winning smile. He shoots me a looks-could-kill stare and I have to look away to keep from busting out laughing.

  “I don’t know,” he mumbles. “I might go stag.”

  Laura’s face falls a little, but I don’t feel bad for her. She and Mackenzie both look to me for help, but I’m still recovering from the “ugly-pretty” comments and keep my eyes on my shoes.

  “Yeah, if you go stag, you can dance with anybody,” I say, leaning back casually on my palms and shaking my legs out in front of me. I look over at my best friend—Luke. “I might go stag, too. Have my way with the boys.”

  Luke and I laugh, easily. No one else does, and that’s okay.

  But I notice that Mackenzie and Laura bristle.

  “Yeah, like you’re going alone, Ericka,” Mackenzie says to me, her smile a tad forced. “Go with my brother. He’s a sophomore with a car, probably going to be a starter on Boys’ Varsity.”

  I know how much Wolf hates Mark, how defensive he is about his spot on the basketball team, and I prepare myself for a meltdown. I’ve seen the silent-treatment side of Wolf, but I’ve never really seen him get angry.

  “Sophomore? Yes. Car? Yes. Starter? Hmmm, doubt it,” Wolf says, a tight smile stretched across his lips but cocky as ever. Mackenzie is obviously taken aback but she composes herself quickly, batting her lashes double-time. Then Wolf looks at me, chuckles a little to himself, and turns back to her. “And anyway, what makes you think he’d want to ask Ericka?”

  “Oh, like being my date would be the worst thing in the world,” I snap at him.

  “Because he adores her,” Mackenzie gushes. “He talks about her all the time. ‘Ericka this. Ericka that.’ ” Her eyes move around the circle and she smiles. I give her a quizzical glance, but she quickly looks away; she’s a terrible liar. I know how nice her brother is and wonder if he’d appreciate her pimping him out like this. Personally, I don’t get the vibe that he likes me that much.

  “He’s a great guy, and we could all go together,” she plows on. “Hey! What if Ericka goes with Mark, Laura goes with Luke, and I go with Wolf? We’d have the best time, and my dad would get us a limo!” She says this as if she totally just thought of it off the top of her head. Laura splashes a Wow! Great idea! look across her face. Mega-gag.

  “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” Wolf says, putting his hands up and looking at Mackenzie, talking to her as if I don’t exist. “Mark Watts likes Ericka Winstead? Your brother likes Ericka?”

  “Geez, Louise!” I cry. “Stranger things have happened, people!”

  Mackenzie leans in close to him and nods fervently. “A lot. Wouldn’t they be cute together?”

  I groan, sit up, and blow warm air into my palms. Sometimes I feel like I’m in the room and nobody sees me. I sigh, missing the way things were ten minutes ago, when I still felt pretty-pretty.

  “Well, folks,” I say, standing up and rubbing my cold hands together. “I think I’m going to excuse myself from this evening’s festivities. I’ll leave the back door open—”

  “Wait!” Wolf says, reaching over and grabbing my calf. I freeze. “I’ve got a better idea.”

  I look down at Wolf and he flashes that evil half grin of his. My stomach flips nervously. Then I flare my nostrils angrily. For the past month and a half, that devilish grin has meant nothing but heartache for me.

  “What?” I ask hesitantly, my eyes narrowed.

  “What if you go with me?” he asks, cool and nonchalant.

  My mouth falls open, as per the standard. My heart picks up its pace to some kind of double-time beat and I can’t believe my ears.

  “To homecoming?” I ask stupidly.

  He laughs easily, throwing his perfect head back, and then settles his brown eyes back on mine. “No, to the moon,” he says teasingly.

  Even better.

  I feel my jaw lock in place so that I can’t speak. I really want to scream “Yes!” at the top of my lungs, but my brain is processing a million thoughts at once, and it takes me a minute to sort through them all.

  First and foremost, David Wolfenbaker just asked me to homecoming. He’s sitting right next to the most beautiful girl in our class, but asked me. Oh. My. God.

  Which leads to my second thought, that the most beautiful girl in our class happens to be my friend—actually, my “best friend forever”—and accepting Wolf’s proposal will kind of make me look like an A-hole. Plus, she might murder me in my sleeping bag later.

  Not to mention that a few hours ago, Wolf specifically told me on the phone that he was only asking Mackenzie to homecoming to make her brother mad… and so he’s probably only asking me out to make her brother mad… and so he probably doesn’t love me and want to marry me and make out with me at the dance.

  In the few seconds it takes me to stare at him and think about this impossible dream, Mackenzie cuts in, laughing in a borderline maniacal way. “Oh, no, no, no, silly,” she says, pulling Wolf’s arm so that he looks over at her. “Mark really likes Ericka.”

  “Well,” Wolf says, his evil grin widening as he looks back over at me, “maybe I really like Ericka, too.”

  I stop breathing. It just happens. His face is perfection, his eyes twinkle in the security light shining through the barn slats, and he just said he likes me… maybe. Agh! David Wolfenbaker maybe really likes me!

  I. Am. Dying.

  “Well?” he asks, grinning from ear to ear. Then he gets up on one knee and grabs one of my hands. “Rosie Jo, will you go to homecoming with me this Friday?”

  A sigh escapes me. A chill runs up my spine. I can’t take it.

  I steal a glance around the circle. Luke looks just as surprised as I am, his mouth in an O shape, like he wants to say something but can’t. Laura looks hopeful, her eyes wide, like she’s getting rid of her imaginary competition. And Mackenzie looks worried, leaning up on her knees, her eyes bugged out as if in warning.

  I take a deep breath and know that I’ll have regrets either way.

  “Okay, you goofball,” I say, laughing and shaking him off, powerfully fighting the urge to turn celebratory cartwheels around the barn. I squat back down on the blanket and cross my arms. “But I don’t fast dance.”

  He laughs and surprises me by giving me a hug, wrapping me up in his soft Abercrombie hoodie and cologne… which is just about the single most perfect moment of my whole life.

  Except for Mackenzie glaring at me over his shoulder.

  “Where’s the booze?” Paul Foster asks, breaking away from Kimi and standing over our little circle. It’s obvious that he’s been drinking already.

  Still, as he sways unsteadily over our group, I’ve never been happier to see him. The last five minutes have been pretty awkward over here on the blanket. Laura has been trying to find common ground with Luke by asking about tobacco, but he’s fallen into one of his quiet spells all of a sudden. I thought Mackenzie was going to cry, but then she flipped some sort of imaginary switch and went into super-cheerleader mode, babbling on and on about Wolf’s team through a forced smile, all the while shooting me murderous looks when he wasn’t looking.

  I’ve tried keeping up with both conversations, but my mind is in overdrive, trying to figure out if I did the right thing. I guess I sort of feel guilty in a way, but I also feel within my rights. I mean, I know she called dibs and I said I’d back off, but I was still stinging from the “ugly-pretty” comments. Plus, she was totally manipulating the whole homecoming triple-date scenario, without asking if I even wanted to go with Mark. As her friend, I should have said no to Wolf… but as my friend, it wasn’t fair of her to ask me to.

  Ugh. It’s a bad situation for sure; but if Wolf feels the tension, he seems to enjoy it, whistling the whole time and kicking my shoes with his—which sends tingles up my leg and provokes Mackenzie even more. So Paul and his need for alcohol are a welcome distraction.

  “Y’all hardly drank any of
it!” he exclaims, grabbing the bourbon from the blanket and holding it up. “I thought you were gonna party.”

  “We are,” Kimi says, sauntering up behind him, “but we wanted to wait for you boys.” She grabs the bottle and takes a swig, careful to avoid the herky-jerky spasms she made when drinking at my house. There is a bit of a grimace, but overall, I’d say she definitely deserves Most Improved.

  “Jimmy!” Kimi yells, holding the bottle out to the entangled couple in a dark corner. “Jimmy, you want a shot of bourbon?”

  The quarterback phenom comes up for air and it looks like the shadows start to rearrange themselves. Then Sarah and Jimmy come stumbling toward us and I giggle when I see that there is straw in Sarah’s hair and Jimmy’s shirt is on backwards.

  He takes the bottle from Kimi and tosses back a drink, then passes it to Sarah. She takes a couple of pulls like a champ and passes it to Kimi, who tries to match her. Next thing I see, Paul’s taking a few more gulps and Luke is looking at him with obvious disgust.

  “Wolfenbaker, you drinking tonight?” Paul drawls. He holds the bottle down toward Wolf and I see that it’s half empty already. I look back up at Kimi, who seems a little unsteady, and then over at Sarah, whose face is bright red, although I don’t know if it’s from the booze or the face-sucking.

  Wolf grabs the bottle and gives me a special side grin. “Sure I’m drinking,” he says, leaning against my arm. “I’ve got something to celebrate.”

  He winks at me and I shiver. He takes a drink, then shudders like a dog shaking off water. I squeeze my knees up to my chest and giggle. I love when his perfect-guy facade cracks even a tad.

  “To nosotros,” he says, and I smile at him. His face is close to mine as he offers me the bourbon, his own lips still wet. I have an urge to just take a sip, to consecrate our first date, but then I feel Luke tense up next to me. I glance over at him and see the tightness in his body, and when I look back at Wolf, it takes everything I have to decline, to pull back from the intensity in his eyes.

  “Nah,” I finally say, looking down at the blanket. “I’m good.”

  Luke on one side, Wolf on the other. Angel on one side, devil on the other.