Miss Match (12 page)

He strokes his goatee, his eyes mere specks behind his orange goggles. Slowly, he reaches into his wallet—one of those beat-up leather ones attached to a big silver chain—and extracts a ticket. He waves it in front of my face. “But first you have to do something for me.”

I raise my eyebrow.

“Tell me what you’re doing with all these tickets.”

I shift my gaze left and right. “I…can’t.”

“Why not? I’m just curious, that’s all.”

“Really, I can’t.”

“Well, at the risk of sounding like your mother, you should probably be getting dressed,” he says, jumping down from the stage. “It’s a little cold out for damp underwear.”

“Uh, well, actually…” I look around, hoping my clothes have miraculously reappeared in the last two minutes. No such luck. However, I do see Derek and Sami coming over, a Dillard’s shopping bag in his hand. “I don’t have any clothes. Someone must’ve taken them.”

Trying to keep a straight face, Jace grabs an extra-large 97.1
ZHT
tee out of a box and gives it to me. He holds my tickets while I slip it over my head, thankful to be hiding my body after so much unnerving exposure. I still can’t believe Derek saw me like this. I don’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed.

“You didn’t hide my clothes, did you?” I ask Derek when they join us at the fountain.

He chuckles. “Sadly, I never had that stroke of genius. But I can definitely help you look.” While Sami perches on the fountain ledge and Jace busies himself with deejay cleanup duties, Derek and I buzz about, searching for the missing clothes and purse.

About five minutes later Derek runs over, my yoga pants and purse in his hands. “Are these yours?” he asks.

“Oh my gosh, Derek. Thanks so much!” I say, stuffing my legs into my pants as quickly as I can. “Where were they?”

“Over in that tree,” he says, pointing with his chin.

“I don’t suppose there was a yellow hoodie with a dragonfly on the back stuffed in the bushes?” It’s one of my favorites, but I’m happy to finally be dressed, and I know I’m lucky no one took off with my purse.

He shakes his head. “Sorry.” He peels off his A&M sweatshirt and hands it to me. “Here you go.” I pull it over my head, over the radio station T-shirt and my damp bra, and I’m instantly ensconced in warmth.

“Thanks, Derek. For everything.”

“No worries. So, do you want a ride home?”

I would love a ride home in Derek’s old pickup, but I’ve got to deliver these tickets to the Depot, and I can’t divulge all my Miss Match plans to him. “No thanks, I’m good. You’ve already done so much.”

“Don’t mention it.” Sami yells something about getting going so she doesn’t
miss something Hannah Montana–ish on TV, and Derek says, “Well, see ya later, Sasha.”

“Later.” I watch Derek and his sister disappear into the hustle and bustle of the mall. I pull the hood over my wet head, inhaling the clean masculine scent that is Derek. But there’s no time to revel in stupid fantasies. I’ve got to get these tickets to the will-call!

Oh, man. I’m one ticket short, so I guess I won’t be going to the concert. Hopefully, the love connections can happen on their own, without my assistance.
Will Yasmin be pissed if I give my ticket to Beth?
I wonder, adding my ticket to the stack.

“Can I get some will-call envelopes?” I ask Caden back at the Depot ticket booth.

“You got the tickets?” he asks, eyes wide.

I fan out the tickets to show him before stuffing them into the envelopes. Two for Jasper, two for Beth, and two for Brian. Wait a minute. Where’d this extra one come from? Did Jace Evans slip his into the stack when I was putting on this T-shirt? I’m sure I’m smiling like a monkey, but I can’t help it. My plan is working out after all! Jasper
and Beth and Yas and Brian are going to be together in no time.

I take a deep breath, the October air crisp and tingly. Yep, love is definitely in the air. At least for some people.

Why didn’t anyone tell me you’re supposed to wear black? Yas is all sexy in a black shift minidress and killer knee-high boots, and everyone around us is in head-to-toe black. Except the bouncers, who opted for dark green. But even
they’re
wearing black pants. I’m wearing a yellow voile blouse and faded flare jeans, which seemed like a decent outfit at the time. But now I feel like Mandy Moore in a sea of Avril Lavignes. Oh, joy. I’m getting a mega headache, and it’s not from the pounding bass.

“Hey, you in the yellow! Are you gonna order something or just stand there looking dazed and confused?” the scruffy guy at the under-twenty-one bar yells at me.

“I’ll have a…Diet Coke?”

“Make that two,” Yas shouts over my shoulder, giving the bartender a smile that’s been known to turn guys to mush. I just hope it turns one Brian Goldman to mush.

We grab our drinks and head toward the stage. Yasmin works her way to the epicenter of the dance floor and does her stuff while I scope. Aha! I recognize Jasper from the yearbook photo Beth provided and feel a surge of Miss Match adrenaline.

Now to find Beth.

I weave through the crowd, getting closer to Jasper. The opening act, a band called Firesticks (if I’m to take the big red
FIRESTICKS
painted on the drums as a hint), wraps up, and Brownnosers takes the stage. I’ve heard
of
Brownnosers, but I’ve never actually
heard
them. They wait till the hooting and shouting dies down a notch and then launch into their first number: a bouncy song with loud drums and hyperactive sax, the singer practically choking on the mic as he wails his jumbled lyrics. That’s when the crowd goes
really
wild. I take this opportunity to “accidentally” bump into Jasper.

“You okay?” he shouts over the commotion.

“Hey, you look totally familiar. Do you go to Murray High?”

“Yeah. Do you?”

“So you know Beth Samuels?” I ask, simultaneously dodging his question and getting to the point.

He fiddles with the ring in his eyebrow. “Yeah, I think so. Isn’t she that chick who always looks like she’s going to a funeral?”

His friend pipes in, “Or a Halloween party?” They chuckle and kind of bump elbows.

Ugh. Not good. “She’s actually really cool. Anyway, I’m just looking for her. I’m supposed to meet her here.”

“Oh.” Jasper shoves his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans.

“Well, I’ll go make the rounds again. If you see us, come over and hang out.”

“Uh, okay.” I shoot him what I hope is a superfriendly smile and take off across the floor. I’ve just spotted Brian by the door. Looks like he missed the black-attire memo too.

“Brian! How are you?”

“Oh, hey, Sasha.”

“It’s so good to see you. I didn’t know you liked the Brownnosers.”

“I don’t really. I just won a pair of tickets
last night, so I thought I’d check it out. You know, since it’s free and everything.”

“Gotcha. Well, Yasmin’s going to be totally psyched you’re here.”

He looks around and tugs at the cuff of his rusty-orange shirt. “She will? Why’s that?”

“Because she was going to invite you. But I made her take me instead, on account of being her best friend and all.” I give him a big toothy smile.

“She was going to invite me?”

I roll my eyes in a silent
duh
and wait for him to pay the bartender for his soda. “So, are you going to the homecoming dance with anyone?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not? There are so many hot chicks dying to be your date. You shouldn’t be so selfish.”

He laughs. “Oh yeah? Tons of hot chicks? Name one.”

“Yasmin.”

He stares at me, speechless.

“But she’s getting sick of fending off other would-be dates, so you’d better ask her right away,” I add.

“Hey, Sasha.” I turn and end up face-to-chin with Derek. How random is this?
I mean, I keep bumping into him. Earlier today at the mall (in my wet bra and panties, no less) and now here at the Depot. It’s almost like he’s…Nooo. It’s just a weird coincidence.

Boy, does he look hot in that black pechugging sweater and those ripped Levi’s!

Struggling to wipe the surprise off my face I ask, “What are you doing here?”

He squints his dark blue eyes at me like I’ve just asked the dumbest question. “Going to a concert?”

I laugh. “Right. Well, me too…”

“Aren’t you a little overdressed?”

Glancing down at my outfit, I shrug. I mean, it’s not black, but it’s not exactly my Sunday finest, either.

“This morning you were parading around in your underwear.” Derek glances over at Brian, who’s suddenly interested in our conversation. Sensing that we’re about to become Snowcrest High School’s next hot topic, Derek chuckles and adds, “Or so I hear.”

“So you guys know each other?” Brian says. “Oh, that’s right. Derek’s taking your sister to homecoming.” He slugs Derek on the shoulder and Derek grins.

“And we have chemistry together,” he says.

“Chemistry
class
,” I’m quick to clarify.

So Brian’s friends with Derek? Not sure how that slipped by me. Hmm. Well, I’d be happy to hang out with Derek for the rest of my life, but I’ve got to get back to work. “If you’ll excuse me, boys, I see someone I need to say hi to. Then I’m going up to dance with Yas.” I point to the stage and make sure there’s a flash of
hot dancing chick who apparently likes me
recognition in Brian’s eyes. “You should join us.”

Then I hightail it over to Beth, who’s hiding in a corner with another raven-haired girl. It’s no surprise that Beth got the black-attire memo. She probably typed it up and distributed it.

Wow, it’s
loud
over here. Guess that huge speaker is the perpetrator. Beth says, “Hey,” and mouths “Is he here?” when her friend bends over to tie her shiny Doc Martens.

I nod.

Her friend whips up and looks me up and down. And down and up. “Who’s the flower girl?”

Beth puts a hand on her stud-belted hip. “She’s the daughter of one of Mother’s friends.”

Her friend snorts. “Figures.”

I take a deep breath.
Don’t get all offended. Just do your job, Miss Match.

The Brownnosers wrap up their song, giving our ears a courtesy break. Mine are buzzing big time. I take this opportunity to whisper the details of the plan to Beth. She nods and follows me to an opening closer to Jasper, her friend trailing in a silent cloud of confusion. The club is filled to capacity: bodies everywhere. When the next song starts, I smash into Beth. She drops her big black purse in front of where Jasper’s bobbing his head to the erratic beat.

Her friend yells, “Beth, your bag!” just as someone kicks it and her belongings go flying.

While I’m acting oblivious and dance-shoving her friend away, I send Jasper a telepathic message:
Come on. Be a gentleman
.
Help the lady out.

Sure enough, Jasper taps Beth on the shoulder to get her attention, then points to the floor, where her purse and all its innards are being scattered all over the dance floor. They both stoop to collect the makeup and pens and Certs, and even
from ten feet (and fifteen bodies) away I believe I detect a spark zapping between the two.

When the song wraps up, Beth joins us, all smiles. Her friend, who undoubtedly thinks I’m a raging idiot, shouts over the din, “This band is crap. Let’s blow,” and starts heading for the exit.

Oh no. I just need a little more time. I grab Beth’s arm. “Jasper doesn’t like the band either. Tell me where you’re going next and I’ll put the word out.”

“The Crow’s Nest.” Her violet lips curve into a smile. “Thanks.”

The band blasts into another set. “E-mail me later and let me know how it goes.”

“’Kay.”

I scan the room for Jasper but pause when I spot Derek. He’s standing at a cocktail table with Brian, bobbing his head to the beat. I wonder if he’s a good dancer. I wonder if he’s a good kisser.

Whoa, girl
.

I force myself to tear my eyes from Derek and finally spot Jasper and his friend at the bar. I drift up to Jasper and say nonchalantly, “Oh, hey, again.” Whew! Being Miss Match is hard work. I’m totally out of breath.

He takes a swig of his drink. “Hey.”

“This band sucks, huh?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, pretty weak.”

“I hear the Mayhem Festival’s gonna be killer this year.”

“Halloween, right?”

“Mmm-hmm. It’s supposed to be our generation’s Woodstock or Lollapalooza or whatever.” I turn to the bartender. “Can I get a Diet Coke?”

“So did ya ever find your friend?” Jasper scratches behind his ear. “She was dancing over by us a minute ago.”

“Oh, Beth? Yeah. But she blazed. I guess the Crow’s Nest is where it’s at tonight.” I smile around Jasper’s shoulder at his friend. “You guys going?”

They exchange glances. Jasper shrugs. “Guess so.”

“Well, tell Beth hi for me. I’ve got to get home. Lame-ass curfew.” They nod understandingly.

“Hey, here’s your Diet Coke!” the bartender hollers at me.

I hold up my pointer finger in the
just a sec
gesture and then turn back to the guys. “Well, see ya around.”

“See ya.”

I slap a five on the bar and scurry over to the dance floor. Yas is going to think aliens abducted me.

“Where’ve you been, girl?” she asks.

I join her and start swinging my hips around in a way I hope looks somewhat sexy. Actually, I’m happy if I simply don’t look ridiculous. “Working, believe it or not.”

“Oh, I believe it.” She rolls her dark kohl-lined eyes. “Did you see Derek? He’s here.” She puts her hands behind her head, wriggles down to a semi-crouching position, then pops up. It feels like the whole club is staring at us. Well,
her
, anyway. I’m just mesmerizing by association.

“Yeah, and Brian’s here too.”

She pauses. “Are you working
right this very minute?
”

Brian and Derek are where I last saw them. I catch Brian’s eye and curl my finger at him to say,
Come hither
. He ducks his head a little, saying something to Derek. A minute later they’re heading right for us.

“What are you up to, Miss Match?” Yas asks, silently mouthing the last part.

Brian’s definitely checking out Yas’s body as she twists and shimmies. He dances closer to her, looking like a hybrid between
Will Ferrell and the Easter Bunny.

Derek, on the other hand, is actually a good dancer. Not Justin Timberlake good, but he can definitely hold his own in a Utah dance club. Taking a quick break from being the matchmaker, I allow myself to have some fun. I can totally see why Yasmin is so into the club scene. You can get lost in the music, the energy—the hot guy dancing with you.

Even though I have a smile plastered on my face, depression is setting in. The next time Derek will be dancing will be with Maddie. She’s going to look drop-dead gorgeous, and he won’t be able to take those amazing blue eyes off her. They’ll probably kiss that night. Maybe more.

Oh my God, I feel sick! “I’ll be right back,” I announce to no one in particular. I run to the bathroom and push my way to the mirror. Some girl says, “Watch it, loser.” But I don’t even give her the satisfaction of a retort.

I stare at my reflection. What’s gotten into me?

Get a grip, Sasha.

I take a deep breath and try to smooth the static out of my hair. I’ve got to get back out
there and be Miss Match. I’ve got to make sure Brian asks Yasmin to homecoming. There’s no time to feel sorry for myself. There’s no time to get all hot and bothered over a guy who obviously isn’t the least bit interested in me.

But there
is
time to go to the bathroom. I mean, I
am
in the ladies’ room already.

When I come out of the stall, Yas is waiting by the sinks, grinning from ear to ear. “Guess what!” She slips her lip gloss into her pocket.

“What?”

She starts hopping up and down with excitement, though if someone were to walk in just now, they might assume she has to pee really, really bad. “I’m going to homecoming!”

“That’s great!” I hug her, thankful for the diversion. Incidentally, being Miss Match helps keep my mind off my personal romances. Or lack thereof. “With who?”

“Brian Goldman. As if you didn’t already know.”

I widen my eyes, hoping to look all innocent. “How would I know?”

“Give me a break, Sasha,” she whispers. “I saw the little hole in his back where you shot your Cupid arrow.”

“He
wanted
to ask you, hon. He just needed to be reassured. So how’d he do it?”

“He just swung me around a time or two and asked me outright. Not nearly as romantic as when Derek asked your sis, but hey. Got the job done.”

“That’s fabulous, girl.”

She studies my reflection in the mirror for what seems like a week. “Why don’t you come with us?” she asks.

“What do you mean?”

“You know. Come to homecoming with Brian and me. We’re all friends.”

I force a smile and fiddle with the gold heart charm she gave me for my b-day. “That’s really sweet of you, but I think I’ll pass this time.”

She shrugs. “Okay, well, let me know if you change your mind.”

“Will do.”

We turn to leave. “Sasha?”

“Mmm?”

“Will you go shopping with me? You know, to get my dress?”

I squeeze her hand. “Of course! What are best friends for?”

When we get back to the dance floor, Derek and Brian are right where we left
them. Only now there are a couple of other chicks closing in on them, hungry looks in their heavily made-up eyes. Yas grabs my arm and pulls me through the sea of dancers, emerging up-close-and-personal with her homecoming date. He takes her by the shoulders and whisks her away, leaving me to fend for myself.

“You’ve been busy tonight,” Derek says. He doesn’t miss a beat, dancing closer to me, cutting off the other girls.

I shrug, hoping to look nonchalant. Hoping to appear completely unfazed by the heat radiating from his amazing body. Fact is, as Miss Match I have had a heckuva lot on my agenda tonight. But the one thing that stands out—the one thing that’s etched in my mind—is dancing so close to Derek.