Freshman Year & Other Unnatural Disasters (25 page)

I’m thinking that maybe I should just grab my stuff and hightail it back to Brooklyn where I belong when someone comes out of a stall. Of course: it’s Julie Nelson. She’s a bit of a mess and very obviously drunk. She was pre-partying before she got here, from the look of it. I wonder where her friends are.

“Uh, Julie? Are you … okay?” I ask tentatively.

“Oh my Goooooooooddddd, why are you following me everywhere? You know, Finkelstein, you think you’re so cool, don’t you? You just do whatever you want and everyone thinks you’re hilarious … well, let me tell you—tell
you
—” She blanches and puts her hand over her mouth.

Oh, God. Is she going to puke?
I make a move toward her, just in case she needs help.

“I’m
FINE
.” She waves me away firmly. “I’m not a freshman, you know, I can hold my liquor. And unlike some people, I—oh, God—”

She bends over the sink and starts retching. I quickly flip the lock on the bathroom door and run to pull her hair back. Luckily it’s half-up, so she doesn’t get anything on it. She’s breathing heavily and tears are streaming from her eyes, and I have absolutely no idea what to do other than rub her back and pray she just drank too much and will be fine now that she threw most of it up. I really would love to avoid being connected to more than one group of people getting kicked out of prom, if possible.

I get Julie’s purse off the floor of the stall she was in and fish out her powder compact, which I hand to her. She starts blotting her face with the puff. “You want me to get you some ginger ale or something?” I ask tentatively.

“No, just … I’m okay now.” Our eyes meet in the mirror. She grabs a tissue and starts wiping away some of the streaked mascara. “Look, I didn’t eat much today, that’s all.” She sniffs and sort of half laughs, half gulps. “You look totally freaked out. Chill, I’m fine.”

“Okay. Uh, Julie, your dress is kind of—”

I hear someone knocking on the bathroom door. “Julie? Julie? Are you in there?”

I unlock and open the door. Her friends rush past me and swarm around the sinks. “Oh my God, Jules, are you okay? We were so worried!” They all seem kind of wasted themselves, actually. I hope they can hold each other’s hair now, because I would really like to get out of here.

“Guys, I’m fine! Stop fussing at me,” Julie snaps. She looks up at me in the mirror again. “Well, Finkelstein? You need something?”

“Uh—nope. No, I’m just going. But, your, um—”

“Great.
Bye
.” She gives me a death-ray glare in the mirror. Okay, fine. I can take a hint.

I back out of the bathroom. I can’t believe that girl! I help her cover up a vomiting episode and she’s
still
a total bitch to me?

I guess it’s a shame, really. If only she’d been even a
little
bit nicer, I would’ve stuck around to tell her that the top of her strapless dress has fallen down and her flesh-colored paste-on bra is totally showing. And she looks
ridiculous
. Not to mention naked.

Oh, well. I’m sure one of her wasted friends will notice.

39

I’m heading to the table to get my wrap, say a quick good-bye to Lexi, and see if I can make it home in time to catch the new
SNL
when I feel my phone vibrating inside my clutch. I take it out and flip it open to see a text from Em. It says,
WE’RE HERE! COME TO THE ELEVATOR!

Huh?

I toss my wrap and purse back on the table and make my way through dancing loons until I get to the double doors of the ballroom. I feel like I’ve walked about twelve miles in these damned heels—and for what? Sigh. I go out to the hallway by the elevator bank. It’s empty, of course—everyone arrived by now and went inside. What the heck did Em mean?

I’m about to go back for my phone to call her when the elevator doors open. And there they are, all dressed up: my three besties in the whole frickin’ world. Em is wearing the dress from her cousin’s sweet sixteen last year. Cass and JoJo are both wearing gowns that may have once belonged to JoJo’s mom. They look weird, but fabulous.

“How did you guys get in here?!” I shriek after we have a massive group hug. “You don’t have prom invitations—didn’t they check?”

“I made a coupla calls,” JoJo explains, obviously pleased with herself. “Turns out the concierge used to belong to a nudist colony my parents were into a few years ago. I offered to bring a few pictures with me, and he said not to bother because there’d be no problem at all if we just came on up to meet you. Wasn’t that nice?”

“You guys are so, so awesome. I can’t believe you came all the way here!”

“Well, we heard you needed a date,” Cass says, linking her arm through mine.

“Oh, God. I was just about to leave, actually.”

“Kelsey, this is your first prom! You can’t leave early!” Em insists. “Besides, have you even danced yet?”

“I haven’t done anything yet except march around in these horrible pinchy shoes you made me buy and hold Julie Nelson’s hair while she puked. I haven’t even had dinner!”

The girls and I go back into the ballroom, toss our stuff down on the empty seats at my table, and hit the dance floor. Five feet away from me, Ned Garman is whispering something in Julie Nelson’s ear that, based on the look of horror on his face and her freaked-out reaction, has to be: “Holy shit, your dress fell down! Fix it, quick!”

What a lovely,
lovely
turn the evening has taken.

.   .   .

After a while, my feet are actually ready to fall off. I leave my friends bouncing around to Beyoncé and limp over to the nearest empty table, plop down in a seat, and slip the horrible heels off. Oh, glorious relief! I help myself to some water. Whoever was sitting here left a gorgeous antique-looking purse on the table. I pick it up to admire it more closely, and the clasp pops open. Crap. A cell phone and lipstick fall out, which I quickly put back inside. The other item is more interesting. It’s a digital camera—an expensive-looking one, I see when I take it out of its case. Which normally I wouldn’t do, but this particular camera case has a sticker on it. A label, really, that reads, in big letters: P
ROPERTY OF
T
HE
R
EFLECTOR
. Underneath that is a smaller sticker with the school’s address in case someone finds it.

Interesting. Very, very interesting.

That’s when I notice the prom invitations that were underneath the bag. Of course—it’s Val’s purse. I should’ve guessed, since it goes perfectly with her dress. And this invitation must be Ben’s. Ben … the photographer. And huge
liar,
apparently.

I knew it. I knew it, I knew it, I
knew
it! I’m not sure when exactly I knew it, but I totally did. I can’t believe this—where the heck is that jerk?

I get up, not even bothering to put on my shoes, determined to find that sneaky camera jockey and read him the riot act. Giant submission file indeed. Ha—it was him all along! And why? Why would he purposely take all those awful pictures of me? Did Julie Nelson hire him? To reiterate: WHYYYYY??

I don’t see him anywhere on the dance floor. He and Val must have stepped outside for a mid-prom makeout party. Well, this time, I won’t mind interrupting at
all,
thank you very much!

I march back out through the double doors. There are a few kids and one chaperone on a cell phone, but no Ben or Val. Aha! I hear voices over by the elevators. It must be them. Determined to give that scoundrel Ben a piece of my mind without getting sidetracked for once by his crinkly eyes, or snarky smile, or
anything else,
I march over to them.

There’s Valentina. She’s smiling and holding hands with someone. That someone is tucking a lock of hair behind Val’s ear for her in a very romantic way. But it is definitely not Ben.

It’s JoJo.

40

I stop dead in my tracks. JoJo sees me and turns white. Val, who was saying something, trails off and drops JoJo’s hand. We all stand there for a second in total silence.

“I, um … I’m just gonna go … oh, God.” Val shoots a worried look at JoJo and bolts past me. JoJo turns to me, looking totally panicked.

“Kels, I, okay, um … this is so not … well, okay. Um, I’m gay. I wanted to tell you before, but I wasn’t sure … if … Uh, Kelsey?”

I start laughing. I can’t help it. I start laughing so hard I can’t stop, and I feel terrible because this is supposed to be a serious, important moment, one I’ve been preparing to be supportive for since the summer, but of all the ways I thought it would happen, this was never even on my radar. I’m laughing so hard that I start to choke, and JoJo has to pound me on the back till I can breathe again. In the middle of her coming-out speech. Brilliant.

I take a deep breath and straighten up. JoJo is looking at me like she’s scared of what I’m going to say. Oh, no!

“JoJo,” I say quickly, “I’m so sorry I laughed. It’s not funny, it’s just—we know. I mean, I know, we
all
know—we’ve been waiting for
you
to tell
us
all year!”

“You have? But …” Now a smile is spreading on JoJo’s face. “Why didn’t you
say anything
? I’ve been trying to tell you for months!”

“We didn’t want to rush you!”

“Oh, for the love of … well, so does this mean you’re cool with it?”

“JoJo, of course! Don’t be ridiculous!”

JoJo slides down the wall and sits on the floor. I do the same. She lets out a huge breath. “I’m so relieved. I mean, I don’t know why I thought you wouldn’t—I just … I don’t know. It seems stupid now.”

“It’s not stupid,” I assure her. “It’s a big deal. I mean, it isn’t, but … you know.”

“Yeah.”

We sit there for a second. Then I say, “Wait a second. So … is Val … ?”

“Oh my God, Kels, I’ve wanted to tell you about
that
for ages, too—she’s not Ben’s girlfriend!”

“Yeah, I sort of figured that out, thanks. So … what are they, then?”

“They’ve been best friends since forever. But I couldn’t tell you without, you know … but he
really
likes you! He thought you were so cute and funny when you came into the office all pissed off that day … I tried to give you hints about it, but you didn’t—”

“JoJo, he does
not
like me. This is what I’ve been trying to tell you the whole time!
He
is the photographer for the paper. I just found his camera and came out here to rip him a new one. He’s been taking all those awful pictures of me all year! On purpose!”

“Kels,
no
.” JoJo gets serious. “The first ones were totally a coincidence, and he felt really bad, seriously. So then he took that picture of you from the awards assembly and thought you’d be so happy, but he didn’t notice the tooth thing … he really
was
trying to be nice! And he was so bummed out when he thought you were into that Sam idiot, and he told Val you’ve been avoiding him since then, and
I
knew it was because you felt dumb, but …”

My head is spinning, trying to take this all in. “So, wait. Slow down. When did you meet Valentina? I’m so lost.”

“At the party we went to with Lexi. The night you made up with Cass. The night—”

“And all this time you knew? JoJo! I may have to kill you.”

“I know, I know, but how do you think I feel? I wanted you to get together with Ben so bad and obviously tell you about my—about Val … but—”

“Okay. Okay. So, is that it, then?” I stand up and haul JoJo to her feet. “Have you told me everything? You aren’t also becoming a Buddhist, or a vegan, or a man, or anything else life-changing? Today, anyway?”

“Not that I’m aware of, no.”

“Okay, great. In that case … I’ll see you later.”

Then I run for the ballroom doors.

Once back inside, I scan the dance floor. No Ben. Tables? No Ben. Then I spot him, talking to an obviously distressed Valentina, in the corner near the dessert buffet.

Mmm. Dessert. But this is no time for distractions.

I take a deep breath, toss my fantastic (and still bouncy!) hair over my shoulder, and walk up to them.

Valentina looks like she’s about to burst into tears. “Listen, Kelsey, I’m so, so—”

“Wait, wait, stop. There’s no reason to be upset. I already knew—I mean, I didn’t know about you, but … it’s great. Really great. Seriously.”

“Oh.” She smiles. “Okay.” Then she looks from me to Ben and smiles even bigger. “In that case … I’ll go find JoJo. So … okay. Bye!”

“But Val, what about—,” Ben calls after her. But she’s gone. “Uh, hey, Kelsey. Hey. So, listen, I guess this is weird, or … I mean …”

I can’t believe it. Where has the cocky newspaper guy gone? Ben looks positively
nervous
. Hm. Did Val tell him that I was talking to JoJo? Does he know that I know he likes me? Ahhh, it’s not so fun when the shoe is on the other foot, eh, Mr. Photographer?

And just like that, I feel … totally, one hundred percent confident.

I say, “Hey, Ben. You want to dance with me?”

He looks relieved. “Yeah, okay. That’d be cool.”

A slow song comes on (miracle!). Ben puts his arms around my waist and I’m actually touching him (!) and I put my head on his shoulder and he smells really nice. I see my friends dancing nearby and they all start making faces and winking at me like lunatics.

Very subtle, guys. Thanks.

“So … did you guys suddenly get a camera budget? For our poor, underfunded newspaper?” I ask, pulling my head back so I can look him in the eye.

He ducks his head, but I can see that he’s blushing. “Well … no. I mean—”

“So you lied to me.”

“I didn’t
plan
to lie to you … I was just stalling until I found out what you were mad about. And then …”

“And then you found out I was mad at
you,
so you kept lying.” I give him a stern look. This confidence thing is terrific!

“Seriously, look—the pictures were a total accident. Well, the last one was on purpose, but it was supposed to be a
good
pic…. Okay. I guess I really do need to pay more attention.”