Shy Girls Social Club

by Kailin Gow

  She didn’t need to worry. Kelly looked over, spotted her, and smiled.

  “Hi, Lacey. Are you looking forward to the dance?”

  “Definitely,” Lacey said. “I was just wondering if you wanted to do that interview.”

  “Sure. I’ve been waiting for you to ask. Come and sit down.”

  Lacey sat with Kelly and the others, who all seemed very friendly, and were eager to know what Lacey was doing. When Lacey mentioned that she was interviewing people for a piece on cliques in school, half of them seemed to want to join in, and Lacey quickly found that she had three or four interviews with members of the most popular crowd lined up in a row.

  First though, she decided to get on with her talk with Kelly. “So you’re part of the popular clique, right?”

  Kelly smiled. “Did you ask Landers that question? I bet he hated it. Well, you know how he feels about cliques now.”

  Lacey nodded. She knew.

  “Yes,” Kelly said. “I guess I am. You never think about it that way when you’re in one though, do you?”

  “What do you think about cliques in general?” Lacey asked. “Are they just to keep people out?”

  Kelly thought about it for a second. “I hope not. I think that when they’re at their best, they’re just a group of friends who you know like most of the same things. They’re somewhere you feel at home.”

  “It can go wrong though,” another girl chimed in, glancing across to another part of the hall. Tempest sat there with a group of friends, or at least admirers.

  To save time, and because the others were obviously so interested in joining in, Lacey decided to turn the interview into more of a group discussion. She quickly found herself at the center of a good natured debate on the merits of different groups. The girls around Kelly seemed to think that jocks were mostly great guys, if occasionally a bit brainless, that nerds probably needed to get out a bit more, and that the Goths were a little odd.

  Lacey found Kelly trying not to laugh at that point. “Of course, we wouldn’t dream of just stereotyping someone because of the group they’re in.”

  “No, I can see that.”

  The rest of the group got the point, and agreed that maybe people did read a bit more into cliques than they thought they did. Lacey thanked them, and set off around the rest of the hall, deciding to try her hand with the other clusters of people there while she was feeling confident.

  For the most part, it was amazing how friendly people were. She went up to a cluster of Goths next, and once Lacey explained what she was doing, they were only too happy to talk about ideas of cliques and sub-cultures, being different and finding somewhere to fit in. Lacey moved from group to group, asking the same kinds of questions of each of them.

  Most of them seemed to have similar kinds of answers. They often didn’t see their clique as keeping people out so much as giving them a place to fit in, but it was often when Lacey asked them about other cliques that she got some of the most interesting answers. Some of those she asked would come out with the usual stereotypes, or suggest that other cliques were more about keeping people out, while others would see through both points.

  Finally though, Lacey had to get back to her classes. She found herself looking forward to her last class of the day, the newspaper one, even more now that she had some meaningful research to take to it. When it rolled around, she saw that she wasn’t the only eager one there. Everyone else had made great progress on their stories. So much so that Lacey didn’t get all that much time to talk about hers. Instead, they spent a lot of the time discussing the technical details of getting the stories in and going to print, with Landers running them through a lot of the minor jobs that would need to be done.

  “Remember,” he said, “I’ll need all your stories on time, if we’re going to get the edition out by deadline. So get writing. Well… as soon as the dance is done, anyway.”

  Since she hadn’t seen that much of him that day, Lacey hung around after the class ended. Landers seemed happy that she had done so, moving close and taking her hand.

  “So,” he said, “how’s the article coming? You hardly got a word in, what with all the talk about school meals and the progress of the football team.”

  Lacey nodded. “It’s going well.”

  “And are you still hung up about certain cliques?”

  Lacey raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  Landers smiled as he shrugged. “Do you think you’ve changed your mind about how you see certain people from certain groups?”

  Lacey returned the smile. “You mean you, for instance?”

  Landers’ face took on a mischievous expression. “I might do.”

  “Is this your way of asking if I think that you’re totally off limits because you happen to be in the popular crowd?” Lacey asked.

  Landers reached out a finger to brush aside a strand of hair that had fallen across Lacey’s face. “Something like that. So how about it? Do you believe that I might actually like you yet?”

  Lacey was quiet, but she was looking into Landers’ eyes then, looking for answers. She certainly wanted to believe a great guy like Landers could like someone like her.

  “I have to admit, Landers, you’re not what I expected, at first,” she finally said. “I mean you’re so much deeper, kinder-”

  Landers cut her off by lifting her chin, gazing down at her with those deep blue eyes, and then kissing her. It was a gentle kiss, so soft that it was barely there, but still it made Lacey’s heart leap.

  “So I’m not what you expect from a guy like me?” Landers asked when they moved apart.

  “No,” Lacey admitted, blushing. “Not at all.”

  Landers leaned in again and kissed her. This kiss was more demanding, but Lacey was more than ready to kiss him back.

  “Lacey,” Landers whispered to her, “when it comes to you, I don’t see a clique; I don’t see anything else except a pretty girl with a kind heart and a personality I’d love to get to know better.”

  Lacey smiled back. “If only Mr. Darcy was like that with Elizabeth Bennett.”

  Landers laughed. “Pride and Prejudice! Good comparison.”

  Inwardly, Lacey sighed. A great guy who was an amazing kisser, and who liked Jane Austen? Landers really was too good to be true.

  Chapter 10

  After the kisses, Lacey found herself drifting home in the kind of euphoric mood that felt like she was literally on a cloud. She could hardly think about anything else. The guy she had a crush on for years, finally kissed her. She made it to her front door almost without thinking about it, she was so caught up with memories of that moment when Landers’ lips had first met hers. He’d been such a good kisser. Every bit as great as Lacey could possibly have hoped.

  For several moments after she got in, Lacey just spent time reliving the memory. After all, it was a memory well worth revisiting. Part of Lacey even wished that she could just stay at home thinking about that instant forever. Sadly, real life was no respecter of kisses. Even amazing ones.

  Lacey had to get changed and head down to her parents’ ice cream parlor to help out. After so many days spent preparing for the dance, rather than doing any work there, she needed to at least show her face. It wouldn’t be fair on her parents not to help out there all week. Besides, maybe a relaxing evening doing inventory would be better for her than yet more practice.

  Lacey got ready. While she did so her mind was still firmly on Landers, and made the short walk down to the beach without ever emerging from that happy daze. At one point, she had to dodge a car because she had been so busy thinking about what had happened at school that she didn’t pay enough attention to the traffic. Lacey shook her head. She could hardly imagine what the dance would be like tomorrow night. If just a few brief moments with Landers had her like this, what would dancing with him for most of the night do to her? Lacey smiled to herself. She was willing to risk it.

  She arrived at the parlor and stepped inside to find her mother a
nd father putting on their coats to leave. They were dressed formally, far more conservatively than usual. As Lacey came in, her mother gave a sigh of relief.

  “Oh, there you are Lacey!”

  “Mom?”

  “For a moment there,” her father said, “I thought we were going to have to close the shop for the evening.”

  “Close the shop?” Lacey echoed. “Why?”

  Her mother shook her head ruefully. “Weren’t you listening when we told you that tonight was our meeting with the city council about expanding the shop?”

  “Um…” Lacey couldn’t remember either of her parents saying anything about a meeting. She was sure she would have. Well, Lacey conceded as thoughts of Landers, the dance, and preparations for her article intruded, probably, at least.

  “It sounds like we’re lucky you’re here at all,” her father said. “Distracted by that boy of yours, are you?”

  “Dad!”

  Her mother smiled. “Well, boys can be very distracting sometimes.”

  “Mom, please.”

  “Oh, we’re just teasing.” Her mother headed to the door. “It shouldn’t be too busy here tonight, so you shouldn’t have any problems handling things here on your own while we see to this.”

  Lacey nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

  “We know you will,” her father said. “We’ll see you later.”

  They left, and Lacey was alone. It wasn’t really a problem. She knew what she was doing when it came to making sundaes and drinks, so the main thing was just to keep an eye on everything and deal with customers as they came. Like her mother said, it wasn’t likely to be a busy evening. Not mid-week, and especially not with the school dance just the next day. The last thing that girls who had picked out nice dresses for the next day would want was a lot of ice cream.

  For the first half-hour, things were every bit as quiet as Lacey suspected they would be. Customers came along in ones and twos, stayed only long enough to finish their ice creams, and then left. There was certainly no sign of a rush building up. Given that she didn’t have any help with her, that was the way Lacey liked it.

  Perhaps she shouldn’t have thought that, because almost as soon as she did, the door opened, and a crowd of girls her age walked into the shop. Worse, at their head was the familiar figure of Tempest, strutting her way through the parlor as though she owned it.

  Lacey really didn’t need this. Not tonight.

  “What do you want, Tempest?” she demanded.

  “Is that any way to speak to customers?” Tempest shot back. She looked around the ice cream parlor. “I think I’ll sit… over here. It looks like the least grubby spot in this place.”

  Tempest started to sit at the same table she had been at the last time she had been in the shop, but stopped. “No, on second thoughts, this isn’t quite right.” She stood to go to another table, knocking her chair over with a flick of her heel as she did it. “Oops. Pick that up, would you Lacey?”

  Lacey, vowing to keep her temper, and not to let Tempest trash her parents’ shop, did so. Unfortunately, that seemed to be the cue for Tempest’s friends to behave just as badly. They sprawled over seats around the shop, putting their feet up on tables or “accidentally” knocking over more chairs. One of them took the paper napkins from her table and scattered them over the floor like confetti.

  Tempest laughed. “Oh Lea, how clumsy of you. Though you know, I’m feeling a little clumsy too.”

  The paper napkins from her table followed the first lot, and were quickly joined by those from all the other tables Tempest’s friends were sitting at.

  Tempest snapped her fingers in Lacey’s direction. “What do I have to do to get a menu around here?”

  Lacey brought her one, and of course, all of Tempest’s friends demanded the same. Though they only decided that one at a time, so that Lacey had to go back and forth between the shop counter and the tables half a dozen times.

  “What’s wrong with the service in this place?” Tempest demanded while Lacey was handing out the last of the menus. “I’m ready to order.”

  Lacey swallowed her anger and went over to Tempest’s table. If she was a paying customer, Lacey was going to keep her temper.

  “Oh, no wait,” Tempest said with a smile as Lacey arrived, “I need some more time to think about it.”

  That started a new game among Tempest’s cronies, of course. They called Lacey back and forth, without ever actually ordering anything. At least twice, they actually got as far as making an order, but then called Lacey back to cancel it as soon as she turned to get it ready.

  Finally, Lacey’s patience ran out. She walked over to where Tempest sat.

  “Out. Go on. You aren’t welcome here.”

  “But we’re paying customers,” Tempest said with that irritating smile of hers. “What will those parents of yours think if you throw out customers?”

  “In your case,” Lacey countered, “they’ll think I did exactly the right thing.” She walked over to the door and opened it, revealing the standard sign on the front saying We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. “That means you, Tempest.”

  Tempest laughed, like she couldn’t believe that Lacey actually had the guts to do it. Maybe she didn’t believe it. Maybe Tempest was actually so deluded that she thought the world really ran the way she thought it did. She certainly looked confident enough as she sat back in her chair.

  “You aren’t going to throw me out. You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Wouldn’t I?” Lacey went around behind the counter, to where the shop’s phone sat. “Get out, Tempest. You and your friends. If you’re still here in a minute, I’m going to call the cops. Then you can explain to them why you didn’t leave, and why you vandalized the shop.”

  For a moment, Tempest looked stunned. Then she stood and walked slowly to the door. She stopped when she got there, though, turning around to face Lacey, her face locked into a sneer.

  “You really think that just because Landers kissed you, you’re actually good enough for him?”

  Ah, Lacey thought, so that was what this was about. Again, Tempest had heard more than Lacey would have guessed on the school grapevine.

  “You aren’t good enough for him,” the other girl continued. “You don’t have a clue what he was doing last night, do you? Or who he was doing it with.”

  “I know it wasn’t you,” Lacey replied.

  “Are you sure?” Tempest’s tone turned taunting then. “Are you really sure? After all, I’m me, and you… well, what are you? Do you really think Landers would turn me down if I snapped my fingers?”

  Lacey shook her head. “You really are pathetic, Tempest. I don’t need to know where Landers is every minute of the day in order to trust him. Unlike you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I remember the way you reacted when he was here with you. One glance at me and you flew off the handle. You obviously thought, I was good enough for Landers then.”

  “You still don’t know where he was,” Tempest said.

  “And you still don’t get that I don’t care,” Lacey snapped back. “I trust Landers to have his own life, and if he doesn’t respect me enough to tell me about whether he is with you or someone else, then that’ll be his loss, and I’ll accept losing him graciously. But for now, you’ve got about as much chance of convincing me that he was with you as you have of flying.”

  Tempest laughed, but there was an edge of nervousness to it. “You don’t think that he would want me?”

  “Oh, get over yourself, Tempest. Landers doesn’t want to be with you anymore. The way you act, can you blame him? No real man wants someone as clingy, manipulative, and mean-spirited as you, Tempest, no matter how you think you’re God’s gift to men.”

  Tempest looked like Lacey had just slapped her, but she made no move to leave.

  “I thought I told you to get out,” Lacey said.

  Tempest pouted like a child. “Why should I? You aren�
��t really going to do anything.”

  Lacey sighed. She’d had enough. Stepping forward, she grabbed Tempest by the arm, and before the other girl could protest, Lacey dragged her out through the open doorway, shoving her clear of the shop. She went back inside and glared at Tempest’s assorted toadies.

  “Does anyone else think that I won’t do anything if they aren’t out of here in the next few seconds?”

  The shop emptied as if by magic. Lacey shut the door behind the last of them, turning the sign to read closed and locking the door. Only when she was sure that Tempest and her friends weren’t coming back in did Lacey take a look around the shop.

  It was a mess. Chairs and napkins lay strewn across the floor. There were marks on the tables from where people had put their feet, and menus lay wherever they had been left. For several seconds, Lacey just stared at it, shaking with anger. A single tear rolled down her cheek. That people could just come into the parlor and make such a mess for the fun of it was almost more than Lacey could understand.

  She sighed again, and picked up the first of the napkins. This mess wasn’t going to clean itself.

  Chapter 11

  Lacey did a good enough job with the tidying up that her parents didn’t even notice what had happened. She preferred it that way. She didn’t want to show her parents that Tempest had gotten to her. She went home, determined to ignore what Tempest had done. Determined to focus solely on the dance that was coming up the next day.

  That was easy enough to do. From the moment she woke up the next morning, Lacey found herself thinking of what the dance would be like. What the competition would be like. She was confident enough in the routine that she and her friends had, but what if someone else had a better one? What about the one Tempest had put together? No doubt that would be something special.

  At school, Penny, Valerie and Sandy seemed to feel the same way, because at lunch they insisted on doing more practice for that evening, just to put the final polish on the moves. Lacey could feel the nerves among the four of them.