‘I’m just kidding. I’m totally waiting for true love, just like you, but you never know... Jet could be...the one. Look what he gave me after rehearsal today.’
We’d put up a note from the wardrobe mistress asking everyone to bring extra clothing and unwanted items from home for the costume department.
‘Jet brought in this adorable, navy blue, velvet beret to add to my collection. It used to belong to his mother but she doesn’t wear it anymore.’
‘It will be great for the final, tragic scene when Tory gives you the poison.’
‘Definitely,’ I agree.
‘But I have to warn you, although I can’t wait for Saturday night, we have a problem...’
‘I know...’
‘Teegan has worked out that we are having a dating competition...and she wants in,’ Mouche added.
‘But she doesn’t even know the rules...’
‘Exactly...’ Mouche smiled.
‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’
‘Maybe...’
Chapter 13
The Fall Fling
We decided to get ready at Mouche’s place. That night, my mom had arranged to have dinner with Mouche’s mom and their next door neighbours on either side; a ‘younger man’ theology student and a builder who has recently separated from his wife and ‘needed some cheering up.’ All the adults planned to play word
and card games for dessert.
‘Well, I hope you don’t get the wrong idea and start playing strip poker or something,’ Mouche warned her mother, ‘and if you do, make sure Wednesday is safely tucked up in bed.’
‘Yes, darling.’ Mrs Mouche replied wearily.
Since her mother had taken to socializing, Mouche had taken to answering the phone at midnight (when Mrs Mouche’s recently separated friends would ring for ‘desperation chats’) and say, ‘hello, this is
Mrs Mouche’s brothel
,’ which Mrs Mouche did not think was funny at all.
Trey was at college during the semester and only came home to visit on weekends. Thankfully, he seemed to have forgotten all about my retrospectively juvenile attempt to chat him up. He’d taken to ignoring me or being jokey in an offhand way. I must admit the fact that I asked where he was and Mouche gave me a knowing glance made me realize I might actually have feelings for Trey...as well as Mark and maybe, help me, even Joel? I was becoming a hussy in my own mind.
Mouche was formulating another plan as she pulled out the diary notes which were now stowed under her canopied bed, when they weren’t with me for updates.
‘Teegan is totally onto us. I’ve managed to distract her for the evening but only because I suggested we all form a group table so the Princesses can get some attention from Mark and Jet.’
‘Oh, please, I thought this was supposed to be
our
date.’
‘Well, it was, but a group date is by its very nature, open for negotiation. I really don’t want her to tell everyone we’ve formed a secret dating society that has a list of rules for manipulating boys. That would totally wreck the plan. Maybe we should start pretending we actually like the Princesses tonight – it might be a better strategy.’
‘Uh, okay,’ I said pulling out an issue of
Teen Vogue
and flicking through an article on the latest reality TV drama
.
‘I can’t wait to see what’s going to happen next season.’
‘Me either, I so don’t think it’s set up.’
‘No way...at least I hope not. I think they should definitely do a spin off...’
‘Totally.’
‘I hope they keep filming until they all finish college and get married...’
‘That’d be good.’
I’m trying on shoes when Mrs Mouche brings us in snacks on a tray.
‘ That show seems so addictive, girls...’ Mrs Mouche commented with a raised eyebrow. ‘Here you are...’
Mrs Mouche makes the most delicious party food. It’s like food her mom used to make. She’s brought in an orange with toothpicks stuck all over it and on the end of the toothpicks are delicious cheeses and sausage and pickles – very grown up - and a bowl of chips and another of carrot sticks (‘
for vitamins, girls’
). To top it all off she brought in her famous banana smoothies with nutmeg and vanilla, ‘just because I don’t like you girls going out without food in your stomachs. It’s not a good idea...’
Mrs Mouche is subtly warning us about the perils of social drinking and roofies. We are all like, ‘you so don’t have to worry about us...’
‘Good’, Mrs Mouche says, looking slightly worried.
I have chosen the blue satin dress that ends just above my knees and blue satin strappy sandals. Mouche is wearing a pink vintage dress with delicate lace sleeves. Oh, plus ankle boots.
‘You look weely nice,’ Wednesday says. ‘I want to come too.’ She’s wearing her fairy wings and gold antennae.
‘No,’ Mouche says, ‘you get to stay here with mom.’
‘C’mon, darling, time for bed,’ Mrs Mouche says, as the doorbell rings and Wednesday starts having a tantrum until Mrs Mouche promises to read her
her
favourite bedtime story again.
Mouche opens the door and it’s Trey, home early, who introduces Martin.
‘Hi girls, this is Martin. He’s studying to be a priest...’
It’s the theologian from next door. Perhaps he’s coming over to make an honest woman of Mrs Mouche.
Don’t you just hate that phrase?
‘How about making an honest man out of the bastard who knocked her up and left her?’
Mouche once stated matter-of-factly.
‘Hello girls,’ Martin says, as we open the door. Mrs Mouche is tucking Wednesday in upstairs.
‘So’, Mouche says, ‘are you training to be one of those priests who can’t get married?’
Martin (that was his name) laughed heartily. He seemed to glow with the genuine joy of one who has found God.
‘Oh, your mother said you were a character.’
Mouche looked at me and rolled her eyes as if to say,
you see what I have to put up with
?
‘And where are you both off to tonight?’ Martin asked politely.
‘The Fall Fling,’ I say helpfully.
‘And what is that, exactly?’
‘Well, it’s like a dance held part-way through the year to prepare us for the actual prom...’
‘Oh, that sounds like fun...’ Martin smiled enthusiastically.
Suddenly a Mercedes pulled up outside Mouche’s house and the boys got out.
‘Jet is dressed in a very funky suit - maybe it’s European. Mark looks more formal. He’s even wearing a tie,’ Mouche said.
There was a knock and after we raced down the stairs,
Mouche
opened the door. Mark looked straight at me then at my mother. Mrs
Mouche
walked down the stairs in her ‘dinner party’ dress – a floor length cotton sundress with billowy sleeves and Indian print that her mother wore to ‘entertain guests’ in the 1980s.
‘Wow’, Martin said, ‘you look really hot.’
Raising an eyebrow, Trey excused himself to go upstairs and study
.
Meanwhile, Mouche looked a little apprehensive as Mark and Jet hovered at the door.
‘Hello boys,’ Mrs
Mouche
said. At this point Trish, my mom, arrived with her dinner ‘date’ and Mouche and I realized this was the right time to make a getaway. Mark had barely looked at me, again, but Jet said appreciatively, ‘you both look really nice.’ He’s going to be the mother’s favourite - I could just tell.
Mark was behaving like the ‘strong, silent and socially uncomfortable type’ in family situations. He’d give me something to write up in the dating guide, that’s for sure.
Mrs
Mouche
pulled me aside, ‘sweetie, I thought this was a group event.’
‘Oh, it is Mrs Mouche. We are all sharing a table with some other juniors.’ I think Mrs Mouche can sense Mark is dangerous.
‘Mmm...well, he certainly is good-looking,’ she whispered disapprovingly. ‘Now make sure you are both home by 10.30pm.’
‘Can we make it 11pm, just this once?’
‘No, I remain firm on that.’
My mother was very particular about curfews whereas Mrs Mouche usually trusted that Mouche would come home when she was ready and text her if she was not. But not tonight.
Mark still hadn’t said a word.
He didn’t look very impressed by the surroundings. He was actually fidgeting when we moved to the door.
Mouche stated the obvious and said, ‘you both look like gangsters.’
I forgot to mention the post-prom party at Jet’s has a gangster theme; gangsters as in 1920’s gangsters. I thought it was cool that the boys bothered to pick us up, even though Mouche insisted upon it and it was in the dating rules.