Resisting the Rebel

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  Caleb snorted. “Ego much, Blue Ranger?”

  “Just working what I’ve got, Red Ranger, and I’ve got mad prom-posal skills.” He rubbed his chin. “Actually, my overall boyfriend skills are outstanding. You could learn a few things.”

  “I don’t think so.” Caleb reached for a handful of M&M’s. “I haven’t had many complaints.”

  J.T.’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh, except that your most recent ex is in therapy, dude.”

  Caleb squirmed on his chair. “That’s an aberration.”

  “Maybe. She did seem to have an excessive amount of baggage, based on that parking lot meltdown. And a penchant for drama.”

  “I hate drama,” Caleb said. “Which is why it’s gonna kill me to do this stupid—”

  “Prom-posals are not stupid, okay? Just get that through your thick skull. They’re a tangible way to express all the feelings that guys don’t usually know how to express.”

  Caleb shook his head. “No. They’re a competition to show up other guys. And pretentious. Totally unnecessary.”

  They glared at each other as Caleb thought of all the stupid and over-the-top “asks” he’d seen over the past couple of weeks: the guy who’d brought a pizza to his girlfriend with a note in the lid that said, “I know it’s cheesy but my heart will be sliced in two if you don’t come to homecoming with me.”

  The golf team asshole who’d filled a girl’s locker with golf balls and left a sign that said, “It took all my balls to ask—will you go to homecoming with me?”

  There’d even been a few literary ones: the guy who’d made a sign asking, “Will you be the Daisy to my Gatsby?” and another poster with the Fault in Our Stars quote about falling in love slowly then all at once. The poster said, “Come to homecoming with me? Okay? Okay.”

  And the worst one: a guy who’d lain on the parking lot with a chalk outline drawn around himself and a chalk message that said, “I’ll die if you don’t come with me to homecoming.” Probably the perfect match for Elle.

  Caleb squeezed his pencil, wondering how he’d gotten here—sitting with his childhood best friend and arguing about the worthiness of prom-posals.

  God, he hated high school.

  “Back to my example,” J.T. said. “If you recall, in addition to the Liam wordplay on the first poster, I also did a nerd box of love on the big ask day. Sort of a nerd-o-gram, if you will.”

  Caleb groaned, wondering if maybe they should settle this debate with an old-fashioned Power Rangers beatdown. “You still have that Power Rangers Blaster gun? Because I sort of want to shoot you right now.”

  J.T. grinned. “It’s in the special memories box my mom keeps. She’s got all kinds of weird stuff in there, like my Tickle Me Elmo doll, Power Rangers toys, Thomas the Tank Engine stuff…”

  Caleb’s shoulders tensed, and it took him a minute to realize why. He had no idea if his mom had ever started a memory box for him. And he’d probably never know, since she’d apparently forgotten he existed.

  “Hey…sorry,” J.T. said, the humor gone from his voice. “I wasn’t thinking…”

  “Whatever. It doesn’t matter.” He exhaled, forcing the tension out of his muscles. “So, the nerd-o-gram. That was the personal part? Not generic?”

  J.T. nodded, looking relieved to be off the topic of moms. “Yeah. I made a box that looked like the Death Star. Not easy making a round container, but I did it. Then I stuffed it full of comic books and Lego Star Wars guys. And then of course, the pièce de résistance: moi.”

  Caleb stared at him, torn between confusion and the desire to laugh. “You?”

  “Yeah. Me. Dressed as Darth Vader. With a sign that said, ‘I can’t Force you to say yes, but I’ll stay on the Dark Side if you don’t come with me to homecoming.’”

  Caleb couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore. “How the hell did I miss that?”

  J.T. shrugged. “I did it at lunch, outside, when you were hiding out in your corner of darkness in the caf.” He grabbed another handful of M&M’s. “Before we started hanging out.”

  Caleb nodded, thinking of all the stuff he’d missed hiding out in his corner. “So Liam’s a nerd.”

  “You’d better not be insulting my boyfriend.”

  “Just stating prom-posal facts. Nothing wrong with nerds.” Caleb took a drink from his soda. “What’s the third criterion?”

  J.T. rubbed his hands together. “It has to be un-rejectable.”

  “That’s not even a word.”

  “But you get what I mean. She, or he, has to be so wowed that they’ll say yes. No possibility of rejection.”

  Caleb sighed. “This whole thing is bullshit.” He glanced at J.T., who was puffed up and ready to go all Blue Ranger on his ass. “Not bullshit for everyone. For you, it’s great. For a lot of people it works. But not me.”

  J.T. narrowed his eyes. “So after your big screwup, you think you can just walk up to Mandy and ask her to homecoming and she’ll say yes? No prom-posal at all? Like it’s the 1970s or something?”

  And suddenly it clicked in his head. If he had to do this stupid thing, and apparently he did, that was exactly what to do: a 1970s theme. He glanced at J.T., whose eyes widened like he’d just read Caleb’s thoughts.

  “Dude,” J.T. gasped, looking like an excited little kid.

  “Dude,” Caleb growled. “Chill. We’re not going crazy with this. Maybe just a few things from the seventies but—”

  J.T. jumped up from the table, sending M&M’s scattering across the table and onto the floor. “Come on, Red Ranger. Time to power up.”

  The Party It Up store was Caleb’s worst nightmare, next to the Build-a-Buddy store. He froze in the lobby, overwhelmed by the riot of colors and the obnoxious eighties music floating through the store. He sighed as J.T. tugged on his jacket sleeve. Mandy probably loved this place.

  “Disco aisle, here we come,” J.T. chirped. He grabbed a cart, got a running start, and hopped on the back, riding it like a scooter and pissing off the moms who yanked their toddlers out of his way. Caleb followed him, shrugging apologetically to the scowling moms. If he survived this day without killing the Blue Ranger it would be a miracle.

  The disco aisle reminded Caleb of Mandy’s bedroom, which made him think of that kiss and the subsequent argument that had led to this insanity. He surveyed the fluorescent and shimmering party supplies hanging in the aisle and decided that if this stupid prom-posal meant he got to kiss Mandy again, for real, it would all be worth it.

  “Look at this!” J.T. exclaimed, holding up a portable, spinning disco ball. “You should get it.”

  “She already has one in her bedroom.”

  J.T.’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been in her bedroom? When the hell did that happen?”

  Caleb contemplated saying something dirty, but decided he couldn’t risk pissing off his wingman by yanking his chain. “I gave her a ride home that night her gran was sick.”

  “Yeah.” J.T. nodded. “But I still don’t see how that ends up with you two in her room.”

  “She wanted to show it to me.” Caleb smirked. Maybe a little chain-pulling was okay among friends. “Nothing happened. Well, okay, something did but not what you’re thinking.”

  J.T. put the disco ball back on the shelf. “That was the night you blew it, right?”

  Caleb sighed. “Yeah. Don’t rub it in.”

  “I’m not. Just assembling prom-posal facts.” J.T. studied him closely. “First you sloppy-kissed her, then you told her about how you screwed up with Gus.”

  “I am not a sloppy kisser.”

  “That’s not what she says.”

  An older lady who’d started down their aisle shot Caleb an amused glance, then hurried past them, laughing softly to herself. Caleb wished he could light the whole store on fire.

  J.T. grinned and tossed him a package of “disco fever” buttons that said stuff like Boogie Down, Disco Diva, Can You Dig It, and Funky Town.

  Caleb tossed the buttons back to J.T. “No
way.”

  “Go big or go home, Red Ranger. Picture yourself covered in these buttons.” J.T. glanced back at the spindles of party supplies and yanked off a rainbow Afro wig with muttonchop sideburns. “And this.” He chucked it at Caleb, laughing, then turned back to the shelf and gasped, yanking a package off the shelf.

  “This!” He spun toward Caleb, gesturing like a game show host to the package displaying a guy wearing white disco suit, one hand pointed in the air in a stupid dance pose. “You. Have. To.”

  “Never.” Caleb lunged for the package, but J.T. was faster, backing up and holding it over his head.

  “This is it, Red Ranger. If I can dress like Darth Vader, you can do Travolta.” J.T. grinned maniacally. “I’ll even teach you the Hustle. You know she loves to dance.”

  Everything in Caleb wanted to yell or hit something and get the hell out of this crazy store. But instead he took a long breath and stared down J.T. “You think I’m going to wear that fucking suit? And do a disco dance in front of everyone?”

  J.T nodded enthusiastically. “Un-re-jectable. Trust me.”

  “I’d rather…rather…” He couldn’t think of anything worse than what J.T. was suggesting.

  J.T. grabbed two pairs of fake rhinestone-studded glasses like Elton John used to wear and tossed them in the cart. “Those are for Liam and me.” He crossed his arms over his chest, looking smug. “Dude. You pull this off and it will go down in history as the best prom-posal Sky Ridge High has ever seen.”

  “If I do this…and that’s a big if…I’m doing it where no one else can see it.”

  J.T.’s mouth opened in surprise. “But the public display is half the fun! Then she gets bragging rights with everyone telling her how awesome it was and how lucky she is that you did such a kick-ass prom-posal.”

  Caleb squinted. “Seriously?”

  “Dude, have you been paying at attention at all the past three years? Or do you just sit in that dark corner and tune out everything?”

  Instead of pissing him off, that almost made him laugh. “Pretty much tuning it out.”

  J.T. shook his head. “Well, maybe it’s time you tune in, Red Ranger.”

  Caleb’s sigh was long and loud, but he grabbed a disco ball necklace off a rack, thinking how much Mandy would like it. Maybe his wingman was right, and it was time to tune in.

  “I don’t like dancing,” Caleb growled, but he took the stupid white suit from J.T. and tossed it into the cart, along with the necklace.

  J.T. did a victory fist pump. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you the steps and you only have to do it once. Well…maybe twice, because once she sees you can do the Hustle she’ll want to do it at homecoming, too.”

  Caleb squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to make everything fade to black, but instead all he saw was a rainbow of colors: Mandy’s laughing face framed by her red hair, her sparking green eyes when they argued, those same eyes wide with sadness when he told her about his mom, and the glow bouncing off her that day in the coffee shop when they’d finished the rough draft.

  He opened his eyes. “One dance, Blue Ranger. That’s it.”

  “Deal.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  No More Mr. Nice Guy

  Monday, October 3

  Mandy surveyed the spirit committee members as they scattered down the hall with their boxes and bags of items to hide for the scavenger hunt. She’d assigned people different areas of the school, and they had exactly thirty minutes before the bell rang and the madness began.

  She brushed hair out of her eyes and sighed with relief. Everyone had shown up ready to work, even…Caleb. She’d been shocked when he walked into the caf with J.T., where the committee had huddled before dispersing to hide the items. He’d barely glanced at her, instead focusing on J.T., who’d shot her his most obnoxious smile.

  “Interesting,” Cammie had whispered in her ear, making the word sound dirty as she stared pointedly at Caleb.

  “Not interesting,” Mandy had snapped in reply.

  Cammie had rolled her eyes. “I don’t think he’s here because he’s suddenly turned into a spirit freak.”

  Mandy had ignored Cammie and focused on her instructions, dividing people into groups and telling them what areas of the school to cover. J.T. and Caleb were in a group with Amber, Leticia, and Tonia. Mandy’s stomach clenched as Amber cozied up to Caleb and he didn’t exactly push her way. He smiled down at Amber as she chattered at him, hands fluttering, and Mandy felt like a steamroller had crushed her flat.

  It doesn’t matter, she told herself. She and Caleb were over. They hadn’t really even been a couple in the first place, not really.

  She took a long drink of the giant mocha she’d bought on the way to school. She was exhausted because she’d stayed up late finishing her stupid Catcher in the Rye essay that was due today. It had been a struggle to focus on the essay and not think about Caleb and all the time he’d spent helping her with it.

  Part of her wanted to let him know she’d finished and was turning it in to Spriggs today, but another part of her—the part who’d watched him smile at Amber—wanted to dump her mocha on his head.

  “Violence is never the answer,” she whispered aloud, then stood up straight. She needed to focus. Today was the kickoff to Spirit Week, and she had to be in top form, not distracted by broody demons.

  Besides, Gus had texted her last night asking her to lunch today. That was something positive to focus on. She wasn’t sure if it was a “just friends” invite or something more, but either way she’d rather spend time with a nice guy than His Broodiness.

  Just keep telling yourself that…

  Oh, shut up, universe.

  …

  Caleb and J.T. stashed all kinds of junk around their assigned area of the school: clackers, mood rings, a retro Six Million Dollar Man doll, troll dolls with orange hair, and psychedelic unicorn stickers. Mandy had outdone herself pulling all the items together, just like she’d wrangled the committee this morning, getting people to actually shut up and listen to her, and making them laugh.

  She was a kick-ass leader. He wanted to tell her that maybe being ADHD had good side effects—stuff she wasn’t even aware of, like being able to multitask and keep the big picture in mind, too.

  Maybe he’d have the chance, if this stupid prom-posal thing actually worked. Amber, the blond cheerleader, was pressuring him to do it today at lunch, since his lousy sidekick had outed him and told the cheerleaders that Caleb’s prom-posal was going to be epic.

  “Finally!” Amber had chattered at him while they waited for Mandy’s assignments in the caf. “I knew you two would get back together. You’re like, destined for each other. A prom-posal is the perfect way to do it.”

  He’d smiled instead of blowing her off because even though she was kind of ditzy, she liked Mandy and she didn’t treat him like he was…unworthy or whatever.

  After stashing the Six Million Dollar Man in the tampon dispenser in the girls’ bathroom, Caleb and J.T. emerged into the hall, laughing together and high-fiving.

  “Mr. Torrs. Mr. McIntire.” Dr. Harris said, eyebrows raised. “I see you’ve been busy.”

  They froze, and Caleb hoped she didn’t decide to inspect the girls’ bathroom, because in addition to the Tampon Man, they’d taped troll dolls on all of the toilet paper dispensers.

  “Yeah,” J.T. said. “Very busy. Should be a great scavenger hunt.”

  She patted her helmet hair and glanced at Caleb. “It’s good seeing you participate, Mr. Torrs. Keep up the good work.”

  Dr. Harris nodded and started to walk away, then turned back, gesturing to her ears. “I found these disco ball earrings in my office. Did you put them there?”

  How had he missed the spinning silver orbs dangling from her ears? He tried to hide his smirk.

  “Not me.” He glanced at J.T., who was grinning.

  “Suck-up,” Caleb muttered under his breath.

  “You know it,” J.T. mumbled, keeping that stup
id grin plastered on his face.

  As soon as she was out of sight, J.T. spun toward him. “Lunch. Prom-posal. You ready?”

  Caleb sighed and stared at his boots. He’d left the poster and costume in his car. If he went through with this—still a big if—he’d grab the stuff right before lunch and change in the bathroom. And beat the crap out of anyone who dared to mock his outfit.

  “We’ll make sure that Mandy’s in the caf at your table.”

  “She’s not gonna want to sit there.”

  “Whatever,” J.T. scoffed. “I’ll make it happen.”

  “I’m never gonna live this down,” Caleb said with a scowl.

  “Probably not,” J.T. agreed. “But it’ll be worth it.”

  …

  Gus met Mandy at her locker right before lunch, smiling his dopey sweet smile and brushing his hand through his curls. “Hi,” he said. “Where do you want to go?”

  She shrugged, shoving her books in the locker and slamming it shut. “I don’t care. Somewhere not here.”

  He grinned. “I can do that.”

  They walked down the hall together, and Mandy caught Kay glaring at them, or at Gus anyway, and Elle giving her a curious look.

  Whatever. She pulled her crocheted sweater tight, like she could block out other people’s judgments.

  “So the scavenger hunt was great,” Gus said. “I found a Pet Rock in the guys’ bathroom. Those things are so weird. I can’t believe people actually paid money for them.”

  Mandy smiled as they headed toward the doors to the parking lot. Her mom had a Pet Rock, still in its original box, complete with care instructions. Totally weird, but it seemed to fit with all the other funny stuff from the seventies her mom had told her about.

  “Mandy! Stop!” She froze at the sound of J.T.’s panicked voice, then turned to find him running down the hall looking frantic. “Where are you going?” He glared at Gus. “She’s already got lunch plans.”

  “No, I don’t,” she said, annoyed. “Gus and I are going to lunch.”

  J.T. looked wild-eyed. “But you can’t. We have a…a thing to do! You need to come with me to the caf right now.”