Prom Kings and Drama Queens (7 page)

History classroom.

Had Daniel Cummings and I just had a meaningful conversation?

Amazing what could happen when you shared a pair of handcuffs with someone.

60

EIGHT

Emily Back on Course

“I am sooo sorry,” I told Lindsay, raising my voice to be heard over the commotion in the cafeteria.

She swallowed a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “It’s okay. I was just worried about you.

I didn’t know if I’d see you today. Or if you’d still be in jail or something.”

“I think it’s pretty safe to say I won’t be going to the big house,” I said.

“Good to hear,” Lindsay said, adding, “you know your car’s still at my house. I told my mom you were sick so I drove you home.”

“Yeah, my dad dropped me off this morning. It was a good opportunity for him to yell at me some more.” 61

“You can ride home with me and pick it up,” Lindsay said.

“Thanks.” I was just about to tell Lindsay about the weirdness in the principal’s office when Brian sat on the bench next to me.

“Hey,” I said. My stomach flipped like a cheerleader and my pulse raced. Was it possible to have the same bodily responses to being approached by cops
and
your crush? That just seemed wrong.

Brian leaned closer. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” I turned to Lindsay, who raised her eyebrows and stifled a grin.

“Be back in a sec,” I said, following Brian, who was now heading out into the hall.

He looked to see if anyone was around and came a little closer.

Brain to knees: Please stay locked in place.

“Hey,” he said. “I just wanted to thank you for keeping everything that happened on the DL.” Oh my God. He knew I’d followed him.

“I heard that you and Daniel saw the whole thing at Saint Bart’s and didn’t tell who was there.” I felt myself frowning and tried to stop. Not a good look. “Who told you?”

Brian put his backpack on the floor and leaned against the wall. “Austin. He’s going out with Brianna Cummings.”

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Man, did that girl
ever
keep her mouth shut?

“I know you and Daniel were doing something for the school paper when you saw us. She said you guys didn’t turn us in because of the First Amendment or something.”

I smiled. “Freedom of the press and all.” Yes, that was why our forefathers had fought so hard. So that I, Emily Bennet, would have the freedom to press my lips against Brian Harrington’s.

Brian nodded. “Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks and to invite you to Austin’s party. Oh, and you can bring Daniel.”

Did he think Daniel and I were a couple? “Um, thanks,” I said, “but, you know, Daniel and I are just, um, reporters together. We’re not even friends.” Was that a little smile on Brian’s face? Did it matter to him that Daniel and I weren’t going out?

“That’s cool,” he said. “Then you can bring your friend, uh—what’s her name, with the nervous fingers.”

“She’s a piano player,” I said, realizing I had probably just uttered the all-time stupidest response to a party invitation ever. I could feel the moisture leaving my mouth and finding its way to the palms of my hands. “But, thanks for the invite,” I mumbled through desert-dry lips. “We’ll be there.”

Just then Brian’s posse burst through the cafeteria doors, saving me from Stupid Response No. 2. “Guess I 63

better go,” he said, slinging his backpack on one shoulder. He took a couple of steps and turned back around.

“One more thing,” he said. “Grams has that letter for you to give to the boat captain.”

He got in step with his group and yelled back to me.

“My parents won’t be home, but don’t worry, the maid will let you in.”

Great. I headed back to Lindsay and my lunch.

“What was that all about?” Lindsay said.

“Kind of a good news/bad news thing. The good news being that we’re both invited to Austin’s party. The bad news being that Grams is expecting me to pick up a note for Captain Miguel tonight and Brian won’t be there.”

Lindsay wrinkled her nose. “I’m invited to a party at Austin’s. How’d that happen?”

“I’ll explain later,” I said. “Right now I’m more concerned about the bad news. Want to meet Grams tonight?”

Lindsay practically choked on her granola bar. “No way. Not after last night. You’re on your own.” I crinkled my lunch bag and tossed it into a nearby wastebasket. Things were definitely not going the way I’d planned.

Seventh period was Advanced Journalism II, which meant all the students in the class were staff writers for 64

the
Crestview Courier
. It also meant we were all vying for front page articles that could reap awards and scholarships. So when Ms. Keenan assigned Daniel and me to cowrite a story about the upcoming junior prom, we both let out a simultaneous sigh of disappointment.

You don’t win contests by writing about tuxedos and taffeta.

Daniel picked up the desk in front of me, turned it around, and sat facing me. “So how do you want to do this?”

I opened my notebook. “I guess we could do some interviews—find out what people have planned.” Daniel faked a yawn.

Now
that
was the Daniel I knew and loathed.

Arrogant. Obnoxious. “Excuse me,” I said. “Have you got a better idea?”

“Not yet,” Daniel said. “But I think I can come up with something more original than that. Think outside the box. I bet you were one of those little kids who traced every picture when you colored and then stayed perfectly inside the lines.”

He was right, but I didn’t want to admit it. “We don’t have that much time,” I said. “Ms. Keenan wants the story by next week. We have to think of an angle, research it, and write it by then. Some of us have a life.”

“You know,” Daniel said, “people spend obscene amounts of money on proms; we can do an exposé on 65

the gross materialism of a decaying ritual. Or—” Daniel moved to a chair in front of a computer, hit a few keys, and clicked the mouse. I couldn’t see exactly what he was doing until he called me over.

I dragged a chair next to him and rolled my eyes.

He’d found a picture of a sexy prom dress online. He’d photoshopped it, and at the top, he’d written, “Feeling
Prom
iscuous?”

I glared at him. “Are you going to take this seriously or not?”

He gave a fake pout. “What?” he said. “Sex sells.”

“So do eggs. Shall we call it, ‘Feeling Like a
Prom
elet?’ ”

“Go ahead and laugh. But if we don’t do something original here, neither of us stands a chance at getting editor next year.”

It was the first time we’d ever verbalized the fact that we both wanted the same job. I lowered my eyes almost involuntarily.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Competition isn’t just for jocks.

A little healthy intellectual competition is a good thing.”

I looked at the clock. Seventh period was nearly over and Lindsay would be waiting to take me back to my car. I stuck my notebook in my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. “You’re right,” I said with a nod. “I want editor. So any ideas on how to work around this stupid assignment?”

66

“Why don’t we each work on an idea and see who comes up with the best one. You’ve got a week. Deal?” He extended his hand.

I didn’t like taking orders from Daniel, but I really wanted to get out of the room and meet Lindsay. I shook his hand reluctantly. “Deal.” 67

NINE

Emily Delivers Once Again

For a second time, I found myself in a starring role on Harringtoncam. But instead of a shirtless Brian, a smiling woman named Evelyn greeted me.

“Come in,” she said in a Jamaican accent. “Miss Lily is expectin’ you.”

I followed her through the house and toward the back. The aroma of curry met me as she opened the cottage door. Lily was at the stove with her back to us.

She turned and smiled like a kid getting into the chocolate stash.

“Miss Lily, what am I gonna do with you?” The woman shook her head. “You know that’s my job.”

“Oh, go shuffle your ball change.” Lily grinned, then 68

turned to me. “I heard that in an old movie with Elizabeth Taylor.”

I nodded and caught a whiff of the sweet and spicy smell of mingling flavors on the stove.

Lily raised the spoon to her mouth. “Perfect.” She set it in a spoon-shaped dish beside the stove that read GRANDMA. My heart swelled like the bubbling curry.

What a sweet guy Brian was, buying such a cute gift for his Grams! So what if he tried to cut down an old tree?

I had to give him points for being a good grandson.

Lily ladled a spoonful of the mixture onto one of the two plates on the table and handed it to me. Onions, carrots, and chunks of chicken in brown gravy spread out on the shiny white plate ringed with daisies. It was a sight worthy of one of my mother’s photographs. Lily fixed another dish and handed it to Evelyn. “Try it,” she demanded.

“Now, Miss Lily, you know I’m supposed to be doin’

the cookin’ tonight. I never would have given you my recipe if I thought you were goin’ to take my job away.” Lily ignored Evelyn and stood over us until we picked up our forks and dug in.

“Mmmm.” It was delicious at first, but then suddenly the back of my throat began to burn. I reached for the glass of water on the table and chugged half of it.

“Not used to a little spice in your life, heh?” Lily said with a chuckle.

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I shook my head and took another gulp.

“Well, maybe we can fix that,” Lily said.

“It’s okay, I’m really not hungry.” Lily laughed. “Oh, I wasn’t talking about that kind of spice. I saw the way you were looking at my grandson last night.”

My face felt as hot as the curry. Did this woman ever edit what came out of her mouth?

Before I could answer, she continued, “You know you’re just the kind of girl he needs. Not that Clausen girl with the skimpy clothes and the pierced belly button.”

Hmm. Maybe Lily was more sane than I’d given her credit for.

She winked. “Next time I see Brian, I’ll put in a good word for you.”

I smiled. Winking language now translated.

Awesome.

Evelyn tried to force Lily to sit at the table and use the second plate, but she insisted on standing at the stove and eating out of the pot. “I might just have to buy another place setting,” Lily said, looking at me.

“And maybe a fourth settin’, too,” Evelyn said in her singsong way.

“Oh, you,” Lily shot back playfully. “You’ve been reading too many of those romance novels of yours.

Captain Miguel is just a fan of my dancing.” 70

Evelyn laughed. “If any man wrote me a note like that, I’d be jumpin’ his bones.”

This was definitely not a picture I wanted to conjure in my mind. But, suddenly, I wished I’d read that note.

“It was such a lovely sentiment, wasn’t it?” Lily said, with a dreamy look in her eyes.

For a second I felt like I was in a movie on Lifetime about second chances for older women. “What did the note say?”

Lily put down the spoon and looked toward the ceiling. “He told me my dancing made the world a more beautiful place.”

It wasn’t exactly the stuff of romance novels, but I guessed if I were Lily, it would come close. She was probably way over the heaving-bosom stage in her life.