The Right-Under Club

by Christine Hurley Deriso

  Kyle shrugged and walked out of the room.

  That was another thing Leighton hated about Kyle. He never stood up for himself. Sometimes, Leighton intentionally goaded him just to get a rise out of him. She was doing him a favor, really. Did he want to be a wimp forever?

  But her efforts were futile. Kyle never took the bait. The nastier she got, the faster he retreated. Hopeless.

  By this time, Leighton's mom was bellowing up the stairs. “Let's go!”

  “God!” Leighton said, unplugging the hair straightener. “Have a heart attack, why don't you?”

  She spun on a stiletto heel (she knew the suggestion was Hope's, but it wasn't half bad) and strode downstairs.

  “You,” her mother said with bulging eyes, “are impossible.”

  “Can we just get this over with?” Leighton muttered. She headed for the front door, followed by her mom, her stepdad and Kyle.

  She hated riding in a car with Kyle. He had no concept of personal space. His long legs were constantly creeping over to her half of the backseat. Even worse, he was always fidgeting. He'd get some song stuck in his head, then start singing softly to himself, at which point the fingertips would start tapping. Sometimes he'd drum on his thighs; then the legs would start pumping to the beat. Before she knew it, his leg would be flapping like a chicken wing into her space.

  “Get off me!” she snarled, swatting at his wayward leg.

  He moved his leg, but she knew it was only a matter of time before the cycle repeated itself.

  “Can't you drive any faster?” she whined to her stepfather, who tossed his head noncommittally. Mr. Motor Mouth, that was Carl. If he uttered more than five words a day, it was cause to alert the media. What did her mom see in that guy? And once she had realized Kyle was part of the package, what had kept her from fleeing in the opposite direction?

  Her mom used to be so fun, always brushing Leighton's hair and organizing sleepovers, complete with homemade cookies and silly makeup sessions. Leighton didn't get invited to other girls’ homes very often—not that she cared—so the sleepovers gave her a chance to hang out and have fun. It was weird … everyone wanted to be like her, but they didn't particularly want to be with her, except in the school lunchroom, where they tripped over each other trying to sit next to her so they could score popularity points. As for true friendships … well, the kids were just too jealous of Leighton to really get close to her. Even Catastrophe Kyle had a few good friends. Sure, their nerd quotient was off the charts, but Leighton couldn't help feeling a pang of envy.

  She stared out the window as tidy little front yards blurred into a single sea of green. Without her mom as a best friend anymore, Leighton couldn't deny her loneliness. Except that now she had the Right-Under Club. They were her friends … right?

  … … …

  Leighton propped her elbow on the table and sank her chin into the palm of her hand. The wedding ceremony was over, and now the part she dreaded was here: the reception. Round tables with starchy white tablecloths dotted the room. Buffet tables were lined against a wall; Leighton cringed as she spotted her stepfather filling his plate with meatballs. A band played on a platform at the other end of the room, and couples were starting to dance. Scott kept stealing glances at her from a couple of tables over. She sipped a diet soda, tossing occasional sidelong glances in his direction. If he wanted to dance, he'd have to come to her. She was playing it cool.

  “Wanna dance?”

  Oh, God. Kyle was suddenly standing beside her chair, extending a hand.

  Not in this lifetime.

  “You can dance?” Leighton asked Kyle.

  He blushed. “I can try.”

  “Try with my grandmother,” Leighton suggested, then turned her back and took another sip of soda. Kyle slinked away. Wimp.

  “Leighton!” her mom whispered from the seat beside her. “I will not have you being rude to Kyle!”

  Leighton's jaw dropped. “I'm not going to pulverize my reputation by dancing with him,” she spat in an angry whisper.

  “He is your stepbrother and he is a perfectly darling young man,” her mother said sharply. “You should be proud to be his stepsister.”

  Right.

  Luckily, Kyle had taken Leighton up on her suggestion and asked her grandmother for a dance. There they were…her grandmother, beaming from ear to ear, and gawky Kyle, flapping his arms and clomping around the dance floor in his impossibly clunky shoes. Oh, brother…

  “You need a serious attitude adjustment, young lady,” Leighton's mother said through gritted teeth.

  Leighton managed a nonchalant look, but her heart sank. When had her mother started hating her? She felt a thud in her stomach.

  “Would you like to dance?”

  Leighton glanced up, startled. There he was: Scott. Her heart skipped a beat. She paused for a moment, flustered. A few extra couples had joined the dance floor, so maybe Kyle wasn't too noticeable right now. Maybe Scott wouldn't know they were related.

  “Okay,” she said casually, rising as Scott took her hand.

  She registered her mom's look of concern as she brushed past her. Moms.

  Just as Scott and Leighton reached the dance floor, the band started a slow song. Leighton laced her fingers behind Scott's neck as he supported the small of her back, caressing the fabric of her ankle-length satin dress, which matched her green eyes. She tried to look bored as they swayed back and forth, but every once in a while, her eyes would fall on Scott… his dirty blond hair, his blue eyes, his firm chin. Ooooh, he was cute!

  “So what are you doing for fun this summer?” Scott asked her.

  She shrugged. “Just chilling.”

  “Me too.” He subtly pulled her close. “We should chill together.”

  Leighton's heartbeat quickened. “That could be arranged.”

  Scott grinned. “Your mom would let you hang out with me? You're… what… still in middle school?”

  Leighton tossed her hair out of her face. “I'm almost fourteen.”

  Scott's grin broadened. “Yeah… you're definitely getting older. So your mom really would let you go out with me?”

  “Duh.” Except that she probably wouldn't. Which meant that Leighton might have to be a little… creative when she told her mom where she was going. As if her mom cared anyway.

  Leighton smiled at Scott, then purred, “I think I could arrange to squeeze you into my schedule.”

  Scott's eyelids lowered. “How about now?” he asked in a low, breathy voice.

  A flash of confusion crossed Leighton's face, but she quickly masked it. “Now?”

  “Yeah. Now. I got a new car. It's right outside in the parking lot. We can duck out for a few minutes and nobody will even know we're missing.” He paused. “What do you say?”

  Leighton swallowed hard. Why was her stomach hurting? This was just what she wanted… right? She had fantasized for months about being with Scott. But once she was with him, what would they do? She hadn't thought that far ahead, and the prospect made her palms sweaty. Still, this was her chance. No way would she blow it.

  “Sure,” she said coolly.

  Scott held a finger of her hand and guided her from the dance floor. Leighton glanced anxiously at her mother, who was still sitting at the table but was now talking animatedly to other guests. Her mom would seriously freak if she realized Leighton was missing, but she'd be back in just a few minutes. Scott was right. No one would even know they were gone. What was the big deal?

  Leighton took a deep breath. Maybe Scott would kiss her. She pushed past her anxiety to enjoy the moment. This was perfect.

  He led her from the reception hall, through the foyer and to the front door. As he reached for the doorknob, Leighton suddenly pulled back.

  “Uh … why don't we just hang out here for a few minutes? It's kinda muggy outside. Humidity does a real number on my hair.”

  How lame! Why was she acting like a ten-year-old? What was the big deal about going into the parking lot to se
e his new car? Now he'd know for sure that she was hopelessly immature. Still, she couldn't quite make herself follow him outside.

  “C'mon,” Scott coaxed. “Don't you want to see my wheels?”

  “What kind of car is it?” she asked, stalling for time.

  “A Jaguar. Vintage.”

  “I thought you drove a Camaro,” she said.

  “Wrecked it,” Scott replied matter-of-factly. “My dad bought me this one last week. So come on outside. I'll show it to you.”

  The drumbeat from the band seemed to be mimicking the pounding in Leighton's chest. “I told you, it's muggy outside.” She cocked her head to one side and smiled coyly. “We've got plenty of privacy right here, don't you think?”

  Scott scrutinized her for a moment, then narrowed his eyes. “Whatever.”

  The next moment came so quickly that Leighton didn't have time to react. Scott grabbed her forearms roughly and pulled her against his chest. His face pressed against hers; then his mouth seemed to swallow hers whole.

  Leighton instinctively drew back, but his hand held her face firmly in place. This was what kissing felt like? She had imagined it would be tender and romantic. Why was Scott being so rough? He was pushing so hard against her lips that she was struggling to breathe. His whiskers were scratching her cheeks.

  “I can't breathe!” The words were trapped in her mind. She wanted to push Scott away, but he was effortlessly holding her still. He was at least five inches taller and probably eighty pounds heavier that she was. She felt like a rag doll in his arms. This wasn't what kissing was supposed to feel like. This wasn't how a boyfriend was supposed to act. She wondered if she should bite him, just to regain some control. That was it…. She would bite him….

  “Get your paws off my sister, jerk.”

  Scott pulled away from Leighton so abruptly that her head snapped back sharply. They turned simultaneously toward the sound of the voice.

  “Kyle…,” Leighton said, gasping for air.

  “Lighten up, man,” Scott snarled at him, shaking the stiffness out of his shoulders.

  “You stay away from her.” Kyle's voice was so steely, so menacing. Leighton had never heard him sound like that before.

  “No prob, little guy,” Scott spat, then tightened his tie brusquely, cut his eyes at Leighton and muttered, “You're way too young for me anyway. Next time, find yourself a pimplefaced little eighth grader to tease.”

  He strode from the foyer back into the reception hall.

  Leighton backed into the wall of the foyer and crumpled to the floor like a candy wrapper. She lowered her head and wept.

  Kyle knelt beside her and stroked her hair. “It's okay,” he murmured.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” Leighton sputtered, wiping her eyes roughly with the backs of her hands. “I am so stupid!”

  “No,” Kyle said gently. “Scott is a moron. It wasn't you. It was him.”

  Leighton's ocean-colored eyes glittered through her tears as she stared earnestly at her stepbrother. “I thought he was a nice guy.” She laughed bitterly. “I thought he wanted to be my boyfriend.”

  “It's okay,” Kyle repeated. “It's okay.”

  He lowered himself to the floor and sat by her side, putting an arm around her and holding her close.

  “These things happen,” Kyle said. “Guys are jerks.”

  Leighton's eyes locked with his. “Not you,” she said.

  Kyle managed a weak smile. “I hope not.”

  Leighton grasped his hand. “Kyle,” she said in a voice that was suddenly firm. “Thank you.”

  He shrugged. “Anytime.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back.

  18

  “Can you call an emergency Right-Under meeting?”

  Leighton's voice on the phone was so shaky that Tricia didn't hesitate. “Yes,” she said decisively. “Come right over. I'll call the other girls now.”

  Tricia's phone call interrupted Hope's and Elizabeth's Sunday lunch, but her tone conveyed urgency. “We'll be right over,” they said.

  Mei was in her basement painting when Tricia called. She'd be there in five minutes, she said.

  Tricia rushed outside, hurried up the steps to the tree house, crouched through the door, then held the Problem Stick and sat down with her knees to her chest. Leighton had sounded so upset. What could be wrong? Had Kyle embarrassed her at the wedding the night before? No … it sounded more serious than that.

  Hope and Elizabeth arrived first, then Leighton, who sat in a corner of the tree house, gazing at the floor silently. After Mei arrived, Tricia tapped the Problem Stick against the floor.

  “This emergency meeting of the Right-Under Club is now in session,” she said solemnly.

  All eyes fell on Leighton, who was hugging her knees to her chest and rocking slowly back and forth.

  “What's up?” Tricia asked her softly.

  Tears welled in Leighton's eyes, then flowed freely down her cheeks. The girls exchanged anxious glances. Leighton crying? She was always so cool, so self-assured. What could possibly be wrong?

  They were silent for a couple of moments as Leighton sniffled and wiped tears from her eyes.

  “Did… something happen…at your cousin's wedding?” Elizabeth asked haltingly.

  Leighton nodded, then cried some more.

  “Was it Kyle?” Hope asked.

  Leighton rubbed her eyes and looked at the girls evenly. “I'm such an idiot,” she said.

  “Tell us,” Tricia prodded.

  Leighton took a deep breath. “We went to the wedding last night,” she said, staring straight ahead at the wall of the tree house. “Scott—the guy from high school?—asked me to dance during the reception.”

  The girls leaned in closer.

  “He asked me if I wanted to go outside and see his new car.”

  Tricia drew in a quick breath.

  “We got to the foyer and I decided I shouldn't go any further. So he started kissing me right there. Only it didn't feel like kissing. He was pinning his mouth against mine and kind of… kind of mauling me. I couldn't get away. It was awful.”

  The girls huddled around her. Elizabeth put her hand on Leighton's knee. Tricia rubbed her back.

  “Did he hurt you?” Elizabeth whispered.

  Leighton shook her head vigorously. “Kyle came and stopped him.”

  The girls’ relief was audible. Finally, they felt as if they could breathe again.

  “Wow,” Mei murmured. “I always knew Kyle was a great guy.”

  Leighton's eyes fell. “I didn't. I'm such an idiot. I thought Scott was a great guy. By the end of the night, I saw him kissing another girl on the dance floor.”

  “Leighton, you have to be careful,” Hope said, surprising everyone with the urgency in her tone. “You have to watch out for yourself. I hear guys talking about you, and you …you… well, you just have to be careful, that's all.”

  Leighton started crying again.

  “Oh, Leighton…I didn't mean to make you cry,” Hope said.

  “No,” she responded. “It's okay. You're right.” She looked steadily at the girls through her tears. “We all have to be careful.”

  They nodded, but Elizabeth looked troubled. “I don't want to go around being afraid of guys all the time. Are all guys that way?”

  “Just some,” Hope clarified.

  “Yeah,” Mei said. “Look at Kyle. He's a great guy.”

  “But let's make a Right-Under pledge right now,” Tricia said. “Make sure you really know a guy… and really trust him… before you're alone with him.”

  “It's important,” Leighton emphasized. “You think you'll be able to handle a situation, but you might be totally kidding yourself. I couldn't do anything to help myself. Scott had me pinned against him. I could barely even move. I don't know what I would've done if Kyle hadn't come along.”

  “I'm sorry that happened to you,” Elizabeth said.

  Leighto
n's tightened lips slipped into a weak smile. “Thanks. And thanks for listening.”

  “You don't have to thank us for that,” Tricia said. “We're Right-Unders, remember? We R There for U.”

  Leighton hugged her knees tighter against her chest. “Yeah … but sometimes I still feel like an outsider … you know?”

  “What do you mean?” Tricia asked nervously.

  Leighton glanced from one Right-Under to the next. “The way you guys make fun of me. Every time I come into the clubhouse, you all get quiet. I know you're talking about me.”

  The girls’ eyes fell.

  “And the way you get together and do things without inviting me,” Leighton continued.

  “I didn't think you'd like fireworks!” Tricia said defensively.

  Leighton's eyes softened. “It's okay,” she said. “I don't blame you. I know I can be snotty. And you're here for me now. That really means a lot.”

  Hope's brow knitted as she searched for the right words. “We are your friends,” she said slowly. “But you kinda push people away… the way you're always judging us… looking down on us and making us feel bad.”

  Leighton met Hope's eyes. “I'm sorry,” she said sincerely. “I feel judged a lot, too. Like I'm just not fitting in.”

  “But you fit in everywhere,” Hope responded. “Everybody wants to be just like you.”

  Leighton shook her head. “But people don't really like me. I thought about telling you guys when it was my turn with the Problem Stick. But how do you complain to people who don't like you that nobody likes you?”

  The girls managed nervous chuckles.

  “We like you,” Elizabeth said.

  Leighton lowered her eyes and shook her head. “Even my mom doesn't like me. She used to be my best friend, and now …”

  “Now what?” Tricia asked.

  Leighton shrugged. “She just acts… annoyed with me a lot. Big surprise, huh?”

  The girls felt the tension dissipate as they allowed themselves to laugh freely.

  “But as horrible as last night was, my mom was so there for me. When we got home, I told her what happened with Scott and she just… held me.”

  Hope looked wistful. “I wish I had a mom like that. My mom didn't even remember my birthday.”