Tonya Hurley_Ghostgirl_03 (20 page)

“Hello,” the announcer said. “Is everyone having a good time?”
As the lights came up everyone noticed a group of people come in all at once by the stage door. Damen brought the music down along with the lights and kept the volume low as he tried to figure out what was happening at the door.
“Oh, we have some latecomers,” the announcer said. “Just in time for the main attraction!”
“I am the main attraction,” Petula said as she entered, looking perfect in her gorgeous vintage Chanel gown.
Petula walked through the crowd to stunned silence, not so much because of her arrival but because she looked absolutely breathtaking. Everyone whispered about how great she looked, which ate The Wendys alive. Despite their efforts, Petula’s popularity had metastasized and spread.
They whispered also about the group dragging behind her. They were her clients, as she sometimes called them, the homeless people that she had been styling for months. They were all dressed fabulously in black, mostly pieces from Scarlet’s old wardrobe, which fit in perfectly with the fantasy funeral theme. And, since it was in honor of Charlotte Usher, a girl who was also invisible, they really felt as if they belonged.
“Please, Petula,” Wendy Anderson jokingly begged, pretending to hold out an empty bowl, “may I have some more.”
“She doesn’t have a date,” Wendy Thomas howled, breaking down in hysterics. “She has a bread line.”
“Yes, she does,” a guy they didn’t recognize said to them.
He was dressed in an expensive Armani suit. He was tan and his hair was full and coiffed. He was every girl’s dream, a little disheveled, and bad-boy, but very charming. The Wendys swooned over him as he walked by them. He looked like a Hollywood actor, much too good for their little pond.
The mystery man walked over to the MC and asked for his microphone. He took it and made his way to the center of the room and motioned for Petula to join him. Damen smiled and pulled up the gain on his mic so everyone could hear.
“Who is…,” Wendy Thomas stammered, “that?”
As she got closer to him, Petula found it hard to believe what she was seeing.
“Tate?” Petula sighed.
“You did invite me to your prom, didn’t you?” he asked, even the cadence of his words now revealing a breeding they hadn’t before.
“Yeah, but I didn’t think you were going to show,” she said, still confused. “And I certainly didn’t think you would show like this.”
“That’s what I like about you,” he said. “You liked me because of me, not because I’m an oil heir.”
This was the first time Petula had ever been publicly accused of sincerity. She was happy to plead guilty.
“He’s a bum?” Wendy Anderson asked, perplexed.
“He’s a billionaire!” Wendy Thomas repeated, punching Wendy Anderson in the arm to quiet her.
“Why were you on the street?” she asked.
“All I seemed to attract were fame seekers, and I was sick of it,” Tate explained. “I started to believe that those were the only kind of girls I would ever meet.”
“What other kind are there?” Wendy Anderson asked Wendy Thomas, who just shook her head in wonder.
“I figured the only way to change that was to change everything,” Tate continued. “I gave up the lifestyle, the money, and the comforts, all of it.”
“Then why are you here?” Petula quizzed, cataloging his outfit loudly in an effort to make The Wendys even more jealous. “In a gorgeous, Italian designer, fine wool, single-breasted, two-button suit?”
“I was looking for something that I found when I met you,” Tate said sweetly. “Now I can be me again.”
Petula was once again the envy of the school and The Wendys, only this time she’d truly earned what she had. Tate handed back the mic and leaned in for a long kiss.
“Too bad CoCo isn’t here for this,” Pam said to Prue and Charlotte. “She did a great job.”
The crowd applauded, especially the ones who’d made fun of her and brought her down. There was a certain comfort they felt having Petula as their leader, even if they envied and hated her. She never failed to deliver on giving them something to talk about.
“Now that the young lady has gotten her surprise,” the announcer said, “I have one for the rest of you.”
Everyone screamed, even though they had absolutely no idea who or what they were screaming for.
“As some of you may know, we had a songwriting contest at INDY-Ninety-five and the winner got to pick anywhere in town to perform their song…
“Well… she picked here!”
The crowd erupted into sheer mania.
“Part of the winning package was that she got to choose the prom theme,” he added. “You have her to thank for this spectacular, otherworldly display.”
Once again, the crowd roared their approval, all except The Wendys, who felt nauseated. Charlotte couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The lights came down and a spotlight hit the stage, causing an even wilder reaction.
“Here she is,” the announcer announced, “Hawthorne’s own Scarlet Kensington.”
Scarlet came out onstage, and it was apparent that she had “it.” She owned the room instantly, but most of all she commanded Damen’s attention. He nearly fell to his knees when he saw her up there. She appeared so beautiful and radiant in the spotlight. Her hair was up, her bangs were shiny and polished, and she was wearing a billowy black off-the-shoulder chiffon dress with some gathered gray tulle peeking out around the bust and subtly lining the bottom. Her lips were matte red and her hair was fixed in a strategic, messy updo. Damen wasn’t the only one, however, who believed he was watching the birth of a star.
Scarlet draped her guitar on and looked around the room, as much as she could see through the stage lights and darkness. She wanted to take it all in. It seemed to her that with the exception of The Wendys, everyone got the memo about dark attire. As she looked out into the sea of black, she saw Charlotte standing there in awe. Then she looked over at the DJ booth and saw Damen, alone, watching her every move.
She smiled at him.
He smiled back.
Scarlet thanked everybody, but gushed with special gratitude for one in particular.
“I want to thank Eric Smash—or as his friends know him, Electric Eric—for working with me on this song,” Scarlet said. “He is a true rock star for doing this and he’s here with me tonight, in spirit.”
Eric took a long, deep bow and drank in the applause from the crowd, who couldn’t see him, and from his friends—especially Charlotte—who could. He kissed his fingers and pointed at Charlotte to let her know this one was just for her. Pam and Prue nudged her, as she smiled, somewhat embarrassed, but secretly loving it.
“This song is based on a note I got from a very special someone, who enlisted the help of a very special other someone to write it,” Scarlet announced as she strummed her guitar into the song.
“She did read it,” Damen muttered.
“Charlotte Usher and Damen Dylan, this is for you!”
Silence fell over the crowd. Scarlet sang and played her guitar and Eric accompanied her. Everyone, including Damen, just assumed she was playing along with a track, but when he looked at his soundboard, hers was not the only hot channel.
Wherever that beautiful fretwork was coming from, Damen thought, it was definitely live.
“This song is called ‘Kiss Your Kiss,’ ” Scarlet said as she sang out the first rich, melodic note.
THOUGHT I KISSED YOUR KISS AWAY
THOUGHT I LOVED YOUR LOVE TODAY
SEE THE THINGS YOU SEE MY WAY
I THOUGHT I KISSED YOUR KISS AWAY
Damen was transfixed not only by her presence but by what was coming out of her mouth. She was as gifted a songwriter as she was a girlfriend, he thought, singing like a seasoned performer who’d been doing it her whole life. He never saw her so comfortable. It was obvious that she belonged in front of people, playing her music, and he was even more amazed by the fact that it was all for him.
SAID SOME THINGS I SHOULDN’T SAY,
NEEDED YOUR NEED TO STAY
SEE THE THINGS YOU SEE MY WAY
DID I KISS YOUR KISS AWAY?
I CAN’T HELP BUT THINK WHEN YOU’RE AWAY FROM ME,
YOU ARE MY MEANT-TO-BE.
She sang that bridge with her soul, and Eric played the guitar like a virtuoso, able to evoke emotions and tell a story with his chords and progressions. He was where he belonged up there, his life cut too short, and now he was getting his chance, all because of Scarlet. Charlotte was swept away by him; it was as if he was explaining everything to her with just his music. If she wasn’t in love with him before, she was now.
For the last verse, Scarlet walked over to the side of the stage where Damen was watching her from the DJ booth and fixed her eyes on him. She sang the words right to him, and everyone in the room felt their intense energy. Eric walked over to the other side of the stage where Charlotte was standing. He played only for her, and it was clear how Eric felt: he was telling her.
I THOUGHT I KISSED YOUR KISS AWAY
THOUGHT I LOVED YOUR LOVE TODAY
CAN ONLY WISH, HOPE, AND PRAY
TO NEVER KISS YOUR KISS AWAY.
I CAN’T HELP BUT THINK WHEN YOU’RE AWAY FROM ME,
STRAIGHT FROM THE HEART OF A MEANT-TO-BE.
As she continued the song, Damen took off, running toward the stage. As soon as he jumped up, Scarlet was winding up with a big finish. The crowd was out of control, and so was Damen. He grabbed Scarlet to massive appreciative applause.
“I’m sorry,” he said, holding her in his arms.
“Me too,” she said, smiling, before their moment was interrupted.
“Wow! Looks like we have a rising star right here at Hawthorne High tonight,” the announcer said. “Now, let’s see who the star of the prom is!”
The Wendys ran to the stage, eager to hear the results, anticipating their night to shine. If one of them got Prom Queen, it could be just the thing they needed to start their brand-new future. Like an injured racehorse, Darcy, they figured, had to be scratched, and Scarlet would never allow her name to be placed in the running. It would be between the two of them and Petula, and she had taken such a public beating before voting had concluded that it was hard to imagine her as the winner. It had to be one of them.
Damen, now back at the DJ booth, only this time with Scarlet on his arm, hit the drum-roll sound effect and the lights dimmed. The Wendys held each other tightly, their eyes shut as they hung on every breath the announcer took.
“And your queen is…”
“It will be you,” Wendy Anderson said, grasping Wendy Thomas’s hand.
“No, it will definitely be you,” Wendy Thomas said, almost breaking skin from the anticipation.
“Petula Kensington!”
The roar of surprise rattled the rafters. Apparently, Petula had a few fans left.
“How in the world did that happen?” Wendy Anderson protested.
Even Petula was stunned.
The room exploded in applause and catcalls, text messages, and cell phone flashes.
“Is this high school,” Wendy Thomas screamed in frustration, “or hell?”
“Voter fraud!” Wendy Anderson howled, nearly apoplectic. “Somebody call the U.N.!”
Charlotte looked over and saw Virginia giggling at the ballot box, and suddenly it made sense.
“Looks like Petula’s new guide arrived,” Charlotte said to Eric, even though he had no idea what she was talking about.
“We’re done here,” Pam said proudly, pleased at The Wendys’ comeuppance.
“We were done here,” Prue added, taking her buddy’s hand, “a long time ago.”
Petula Kensington was queen, and everything was as it should be.
Pam and Prue flashed Virginia a thumbs-up and made for the exit.
As the pipe organ music started to play, a group of dapper football players dressed as pallbearers came and picked Petula and Tate up, and carried the happy couple away in open caskets.
“Let’s go dance,” Scarlet said, grabbing Charlotte’s hand and looking around for Damen. She was standing behind the large speaker cabinets and out of view.
“No,” Charlotte said gently, pointing to Damen, who was walking through the crowd toward her. “You’ve got someone to dance with. And so do I.”
“Are you still angry with me?” Scarlet asked, a little hurt.
“How could I be after all this?” Charlotte gestured around the room.
Eric came up to join them, and Scarlet turned to him to say her goodbye.
“Thanks for letting me totally be myself around you,” she said, “so that I could prove to myself that Damen would accept me no matter what.”
“No sweat,” Eric said simply. “That’s what I was here for. Rock on.”
Scarlet hiked up her dress and exposed a pair of the coolest combat boots ever designed—both were adorned with hundreds of tiny black rhinestones to match her dress and laced up with gorgeous vintage gray satin bows.
“The official ruby slipper of the rebel.”
Eric smiled, taking her choice in shoes as both a compliment and a victory.
Scarlet grabbed Charlotte’s hands. “It’s been quite a ride,” she said.
“You’ve still got a long way to go,” Charlotte said encouragingly. “You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”
For Scarlet, the comment was bittersweet, because Charlotte was right. She had her whole life ahead of her, but Charlotte didn’t.
“It’s funny, you wanted to disappear and I wanted to be seen,” Charlotte noted. “Now, all I want is to disappear from here, and you are definitely going to be seen by millions someday.”
Damen took a break from the DJ booth and walked over to Scarlet.
“I could never have been myself without you,” Scarlet said to Charlotte, but just as she did, Charlotte strategically disappeared. So Scarlet actually ended up saying it to Damen instead.
Suddenly, she found herself in his arms. Damen pulled her in close for a kiss that was all their own.
Epilogue I Will Follow You into the Dark
No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
—Death Cab for Cutie
You never know.
We all have ideas about love and death. We keep a close eye out for them our entire lives, seeking one and avoiding the other, knowing all the while that both are mostly beyond our control. It is a both scary and exciting predicament. In the end, it all depends on how you look at it. One thing is for sure; it is never quite what you expect.
It was a misty dawn and the anxious sun began to push the night up like a yellowing, antique window shade, unleashing a flood of morning light. Everyone had left the prom and was going to the diner for an early breakfast before heading back to their warm beds to sleep the day away.
Damen was about to drop Scarlet off when she turned to him and kissed his cheek lightly.
“Tonight was amazing,” Scarlet purred.
“You’re amazing,” Damen said, grabbing her hand.
The change they were feeling inside had finally come, not to break them apart but to bring them even closer together.
Damen got out and opened Scarlet’s door gallantly. He wasn’t dropping her off at her house like all the other guys, but then again, nothing about their relationship even remotely resembled anyone else’s.