All the Way (3 page)

Insane?

Yeah. Everyone disses it, but everyone goes.

“Come on,” Joey said, touching my arm lightly. “Go out with me, Carmen. Pretty please?”

He's so arrogant, he even sounded like he was mocking me a little bit when he was asking nicely. But it also seemed like he really wanted me to go.

I caved.

“Okay,” I said.

“Great.” He looked totally pleased, which was nice. “I'll pick you up at seven.”

Then he slung his backpack over one shoulder and strolled to his car, obviously in a much better mood than he had been when he arrived.

Cool! I thought. I finally had a date—and with the most popular guy in the whole school!

If things worked out with Joey and I got lucky, prom night could wind up being the best night of my life.

And even if it didn't work out, just being seen with him should count for something at Norton, shouldn't it?

After tomorrow night, I figured at least people would know my name.

Boy . . . was I right.

 

 

 

“Rachel, I'm totally screwed,” I said into my cell phone the next night, as I was getting ready for my date with Joey. “None of my purses look right. The blue one clashes. This brown thing is so gigantic, it looks like a feed bag. What on earth was I thinking when I bought it, and why did you let me?” I didn't wait for an answer. “And my little black one is too dressy, don't you think?”

I was in a panic, trying to get ready for the first decent date I'd had all year. I had shopped all morning for the perfect outfit—and by the way, if you ever find the perfect outfit for a donkey basketball game, let me know. I'd finally settled on a really cute, short black denim miniskirt, which looked fabulous with my black Uggs, and a pink cotton camisole trimmed in lace, layered under a pink Juicy hoodie. I had my hair pulled into a ponytail, tied with a pink and black scrunchie.

I didn't want to spoil the whole effect by carrying the wrong bag.

“So don't take a purse,” Rachel advised. “What's the big deal?”

“Where am I supposed to put my cell phone?” I whined.

“Cell phone, lip gloss, condoms,” Rachel joked. “That's all a girl ever needs, right?”

I shook my head. Honestly, I've never heard Rachel make so many jokes about having sex until recently. She and I always said we'd wait. Something must be in the air, and I didn't think it was senioritis.

“The skirt doesn't have pockets,” I said. “I guess I could just stick my cell in my hoodie pocket.”

“Perfect,” Rachel said. “Besides, not carrying a bag makes you look more spontaneous or vulnerable or carefree. Guys like all those things.”

“Right,” I said. I heard a car outside and glanced out the window, but it wasn't him. Still, I felt nervous. “I'd better go. I've got to change my earrings and pee.”

“Have fun!” Rachel sounded genuinely excited for me.

I was pretty wired, I had to admit. I went into the bathroom and took five deep, cleansing breaths. I'm not into yoga or anything, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to try to get my pulse to stop pounding. What is it about not having a date for seven months that makes you feel like an eighth-grader again?

Joey rang the bell a few minutes later, and I forced myself to hang out upstairs so my mom had to answer it. When I came down the steps, he had those dimples going on. The look on his face actually made me feel like a princess.

I know. It's so trite. But it was true.

“Hey,” he said, grinning at me. “You ready?”

I nodded, made the quick introductions to my mom, apologized for the fact that the living room wall had recently been demolished, and we were out of there.

Joey held the door open for me, and I slid into his Mustang. The seats were deep and tilted, so my skirt rode up even more when I sat down. It barely covered my crotch. I know Joey noticed, but he didn't act like a jerk or anything.

“You look nice,” he said, sounding all gentlemanly and giving me an approving smile. “I like the pink.”

Who knew there was a softer side to Joey Perrone?

“Thanks. You do, too.”

He was wearing a tight brown knit Henley that clung to his chest and made him look like he worked out six days a week. Which I don't think he did. He was just so athletic and on so many teams, it kept him in great shape.

“So who's playing tonight?” I asked. “Besides Hornersham, I mean.”

“Oh, it's going to be a hoot,” he said. “Brenda Masserhof is the center, Rhinegold is on the team, and so is Old Mango. Asses riding asses—you can't beat that for entertainment.”

I blinked for a minute, wondering if Mrs. Masserhof, the biology teacher, had a daughter named Brenda. But then I realized no, Joey just liked the shock value of calling teachers by their first names—behind their backs, anyway.

Old Mango was everyone's nickname for the puny little Spanish teacher, Mr. Vladibo, because he looked a lot like the character Mango from
Saturday Night Live
, except much older. Slicked-back hair. Girly hips. Pooched-out potbelly. Way too much sway when he walked.

Could I picture Mr. Vladibo on a donkey, trying to shoot a basket? Not so much.

“So why aren't you playing?” I asked. “I could see you getting off on slam-dunking against Hornersham.”

“Too easy,” Joey said. “Besides, it's more fun to sit in the stands and totally mock everyone.”

Yeah, that sounded like him.

Joey pulled into the parking lot at school, which was already packed, and squeezed into a spot near the back. The lights from inside were blazing, and there was a definite vibe in the air, like this was going to be some kind of extraordinary night. Other kids were threading their way through the parked cars, heading inside, and we followed behind them.

“You cold?” Joey asked, putting his arm around my waist as we walked inside.

I hadn't been cold, but I shivered when he touched me. I guess it had been a long time. I mean, since I'd had a guy's hand on my body.

“I'm fine,” I said, glancing up at him.

“You look hot,” Joey said.

I smiled so hard it almost hurt. Which was weird, because normally, I wouldn't even be that psyched about dating a guy like Joey. He was so full of himself, he wasn't really my type.

But after the dry spell I'd had this year, I'd have been happy to go out with Mango himself!

Joey pulled me a little closer as we walked into the gym.
Wow,
I thought.
He's being really . . . what? Forward? Possessive? Affectionate?

I wasn't sure which.

All at once, a tiny little voice in the back of my head said,
Hold on. What if he expects me to have sex with him tonight?
I mean, Joey and Molly had been doing it regularly—like, every Friday afternoon—for as long as I could remember. What if he expected the same from me?

But I told that tiny little voice to shut up and stop being ridiculous. Molly and Joey had been going out for years, probably.
Of course
they were going to fool around. That was different. No way would he expect the same from me. Not on a first date, anyway.

Joey moved his hand up to my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Like he wanted to reassure me, or something.

What was he, a mind reader?

The bleachers in the gym were filling up quickly, so we sort of stood there, trying to figure out where to sit. I saw a pack of Molly's friends—Ursula, Amber, Isabel, and a girl I didn't know—clumped in the middle of the best seats, center court about eight rows up. There was an empty seat in the middle of them with a jacket on it, probably Molly's. They all stared at us for a nanosecond and then tried to pretend they weren't interested, but I could still feel them watching. Other people were staring at us, too.

I guess when you show up at school with the hottest guy in the senior class, people notice.

“Come on,” Joey said, taking my hand and leading me up the steps to a row that was just two rows higher than where Molly's friends were sitting. We weren't exactly right behind them, more off to the side. But close enough.

Was he trying to keep an eye on her? Or just making sure she noticed us?

On the way, we passed my cousin Ariel and her best friend, Gina, who were the only two friends I had at Norton. Having Ariel had been both a blessing and a curse, to tell you the truth. It was a blessing to have an instant friend on the first day of school last fall. But it was a curse because I got lazy and didn't really try to hook up with anyone else. Why bother? I figured I'd be spending all my time with Rachel at my old school—not hanging out at Norton much anyway. And since Ariel wasn't too socially connected, I wound up being part of a really small group—the group of Ariel and Gina.

Ariel's dark brown eyes opened wide when she saw me with Joey. She shot me a look that said,
Wow! How and when did you land him?

I smiled at her and sort of shrugged to indicate,
I'll tell you later.

“Hey, man,” some guy said to Joey as we scooted into the bleacher row. “What's up?”

“Not much.” Joey squeezed my hand when he said it, so I wouldn't feel like he was saying
I
wasn't much.

Like I said, who knew there was a softer side to Joey Perrone?

Once we were settled, perched high in the bleachers with a view of the whole social scene below, Joey really came to life.

“Check out Jessica B.,” he said, nodding toward the end of the basketball court where all the players were trying to mount their donkeys. “Have you ever seen thighs that big on a girl that short?”

Jessica B. was a cheerleader at Norton, and her thighs were muscular, not flabby. They weren't really that big, but I knew what he meant. Tonight she was supposed to be playing donkey ball on the student team—if she could ever heave herself up onto that animal. The donkey kept turning his head to sniff her while she was trying to climb on. Each time his head came close, Jessica would freak out, lose her balance, and slide off.

“She's probably wearing that perfume of hers,” I guessed.

“Oh, for sure,” Joey nodded. “She always reeks of some fruity sweet thing. She sits next to me in calc.”

“Sex on the Beach,” I said authoritatively.

Joey turned to give me a raised eyebrow.

“What? You don't know all the Demeter perfumed body glitter sprays by name?” I joked. “You're obviously not spending enough time at Sephora.”

Joey laughed. “Oh, I've put in my time standing around at Sephora. Molly practically lived there.”

Inside, I sort of froze at the mention of Molly's name. Here we go, I thought. He won't be able to stop talking about his ex all night, and I'll go home feeling like his shrink instead of his date.

But Joey changed the subject fast. “Hey, look at Jordan.” He pointed at one of the other Norton superjocks down on the court. Jordan was one of the stars of the basketball team, but he looked ridiculous riding a donkey around the court, trying to shoot practice baskets.

“He's so tall, he looks like he'll topple off,” I said.

“Yeah, he's definitely top-heavy,” Joey joked. “He has a gigantic head, but not because his brain is too big, trust me.”

“He's not smart?”

“You don't even want to hear his SAT scores. We're talking single digits, I swear to God,” Joey said.

I laughed. After feeling like such an outsider all year, it felt good to be on the inside for a change, even if it was at someone else's expense.

“Hey, Joey!” Some guys from the bottom of the bleacher steps were yelling up to us. “Joey!”

Joey looked down and sort of chuckled. “Ignore them, they're losers. I mean juniors.”

At the sound of his name being called, Molly's friends had turned to look up at us, and I noticed that Molly was with them now. Joey glanced over and instantly wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

If he wanted to piss her off, it was definitely working. Molly looked furious, and Ursula's eyes were drilling into mine, giving me dirty looks.

Great.
How to Go from Social Outcast to Boyfriend-Stealing Bitch in Just 24 Hours
, by Carmen Salgado. I should write a book.

I held my gaze steady until Ursula looked away. I wasn't going to let her stare me down.

Joey leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Don't let them get to you. They're just jealous because you look so hot.”

I couldn't help smiling.

A shrill whistle blew, and the game got under way on the court, so I settled back in my seat to enjoy the game. Joey kept his arm around me the whole night, which was nice, except that I kept wondering if he was really into me or just trying to freak Molly out. Every time she looked over at us, he seemed to give me extra attention.

I decided to just go with it. Why not?

The game started, and it was a hoot for about twenty minutes. The donkeys were really stubborn, so half the time they wouldn't budge, especially the ones the students were riding. Pretty soon, the teachers were whipping the students' butts. No surprise there. Donkey basketball is an annual event at Norton, so the teachers had the advantage—they'd done this before.

At halftime, Joey pulled me out of the bleachers and marched me down to the concession stand. Walking behind me, he kept both hands on my waist and bent over every few moments to make snide comments in my ear about people we passed on the way.

“She wears a bra under her bathing suit,” he said, nodding toward some junior girl with red hair. “See that guy? Locked himself out of his house twice in one day. Had to call the police. And that girl, Amy, with the tattoo on her wrist? Total klepto. She stole an enema bag from the hospital when she was a candy striper.”