Perfectly Messy (14 page)

“Do you want to see it?” Jen offers. “I picked it out sophomore year. Perfect for the big senior winter formal, you know. I knew I had to have it when I saw it on the rack.” She laughs as she unzips the bag. “I didn’t even acknowledge I was gay back then. And,” she twirls with the dress against her body, “it still fits.”

Okay. What the hell is going on? Why is she so giddy?

She giggles as she opens up the bag, yanking out a pink shiny dress. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

Lucy stands up to look. “The beading is beautiful. Love the silk. Great choice.”

“Yeah,” Jen says quietly and I stand up too. I’m supposed to, right? “No matter,” she says after a deep breath. “We’ll return it.”

Is she crazy? “Can you still return it? You bought it sophomore year, right? Craigslist will probably work best.”

Jen’s face pales.

Okay, clearly that was the wrong thing to say. Practicality is obviously not the correct route.

“Right,” Jen’s voice shakes. “I, umm…” She turns to Lucy. “Do you have your dress yet?” Lucy shakes her head. “Perfect.” She nods back toward me. “This dress will look great with Justin’s dark features.”

I want to point out that there’s no way Jen’s size two dress will fit Lucy’s curves. But I’m smarter than that. One girl will feel too skinny and the other fat. I’m not going there.

Jen sniffs again and her chest rattles. Oh crap. I reach for the Kleenex box. Here comes more snot.

“When I bought this dress, I picked it out because it compliments your features so well.” She tries to laugh. “Isn’t that funny? We’d only been dating a few months and I’d already planned the dress for our senior winter formal.” She shakes her head. “Ridiculous.”

Then the sob erupts.

Lucy steps forward, taking the dress from her hands. She holds it up next to me. “Jen, you’re right. This dress does look great with Justin.”

Is she serious? I eye Lucy. That thing will look like lingerie on her. My stomach warms. I take a slow breath to cool it off. Not the time to be picturing Lucy in something like that.

Lucy winks at me. “Yeah. This dress definitely belongs next to Justin. Since you can’t return it and this dress is way too nice to be Craigslisted, I think this dress needs to go to the dance with him.”

Jen’s lips twitch. “Good. I’m glad you’ll wear it. Glad it’ll…” tears stream down her face as she spits out the last words, “…be used.”

Lucy pulls her into a hug as she hands the dress back.

“Go to the dance with Justin, Jen. Wear your dress.”

“I couldn’t do that to you.” She sucks back more snot.

Lucy holds Jen’s shoulders, looking her in the eye. “How long have you been head of the counsel planning this dance?”

“Since sophomore year.”

“Right. And you’re the president of student council now, correct?”

“Yeah…”

“Jen, I refuse to let you miss this dance.”

I stand in awe, watching Lucy do what many girls wouldn’t dare: Give away their date to the biggest dance of the year. Prom’s an afterthought compared to this formal. To girls, winter formal means everything. They pretend it’s a freakin’ mini-wedding. Insanity.

I step forward, taking Jen’s hand. “Will you please go to winter formal with me?”

She sniffs, looking at Lucy. “Are you sure?”

Lucy smiles. “You’ve seen me try to dance. Really, you’ll be saving me, big time.”

“Are you sure, Justin?”

I smile, remembering how much fun we had at last year’s dance. And remembering that freshman fantasy of bringing Jen as my date for our senior year. The night was going to be epic. Now, I get that chance. But, it means I won’t get that epic night with Lucy. I was going to treat her like a queen, or let her have her Cinderella moment, or whatever girls look forward to at this stuff. This isn’t what I wanted. Lucy deserves that.

Lucy’s lip lifts, her eyebrows rise, waiting for me to say yes. Clearly, she wants Jen to come first with this. How did I land such an amazing girl? Sacrificing so much to make her friend happy. To make everything okay.

“I’d love to walk you down that grand aisle, Jen. Will you come with me?”

“Yeah.” She sniffs. “Okay.” She reaches out, pulling me into a hug, whispering into my neck. “You’ve always been my protector. I couldn’t go with anyone else.”

“I’ll always be there,” I offer.

Lucy hangs the dress back up in the bag. Hands down, she’s the most amazing girl I’ve ever met.

Lucy

I stand on my tiptoes, camera held above the crowd with the viewfinder on. Sweet, a straight shot down the aisle. This should do. At least, I hope Jen will think so. I had no idea parking would be so hard in St. Paul. There’s a snowstorm coming so I figured it’d be deserted, but it seemed as though everyone and their mom decided to come out to watch the grand march anyway.

Crackled audio of Clair De Lune blasts through the DJ’s speakers as the first junior class couple takes their position under the archway at the top of the aisle. Someone must be spacing the couples every five steps because the timing is awesome. With the strobe-light effect of all the flashing cameras, this really does feel like a wedding or a Hollywood event.

Finally, the juniors blend into the seniors. I wait for a glimpse of Jen’s pink dress.

Yellow, blue, bold pink, black…there. Pink and flowing. Her shoulders are relaxed, her smile bright. Good. She deserves this. My heart thumps as I allow my eyes to drift from Jen to Justin. But not just Justin. It’s Justin in a tux. He blows me away, the way the tux hugs his broad shoulders, just to nip in at the waist that I love to drape my arm around. My knees start to wobble, and suddenly I want to jump the rope and pull him close. Somehow, Justin in a tux makes him more intimate and exposed than I’ve ever seen him before.

My fingers remember to click as I ogle him, making sure to keep the camera angle just right. Who knew that all of Marissa’s camera instructions would actually come in handy and allow me to function on autopilot?

They take their time walking down the aisle, then make the turn in front of the crowd toward the dance floor. The crowd sighs with pleasure as they pass, her arm wrapped through his. So elegant.

“I knew they’d end up back together,” someone says.

“They’re the most perfect couple in the world. Look! Happy endings do happen. Glad Justin threw that Lucy chick out. I wonder if he’ll still do the reality show next fall if he’s dating Jennifer again?”

I bite the inside of my cheek. None of that’s true, but man it stings. What’s so bad about me? I move a few steps away from them, snapping a few more photos as Justin and Jen disappear together onto the dance floor.

I force myself to stay firmly planted in my new spot so I can snag shots of Luke and Laura as well. I’m not running out of here until my friend duty is complete. But it’s hard to pay attention with that dark head of hair dancing in the crowd. Justin twirls Jen around and she laughs. He pulls her back in, wrapping her in a hug. He moves easily into another move and my jaw drops. He really can dance. Wow. I’m a stumbling fool on the dance floor. Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t come with him.

Finally, Laura appears wearing the coral gown we picked out together in October. It’s stunning. The golden one I have hanging in my closet has a similar flow. We planned it that way, so we could do a stupid twirl dance that we made up in the dressing room together. I bite my lip, remembering I’d removed the tags. No big deal. I’ll wear it next year.

The crowd of observers has thinned a bit now. I step up closer to the red velvet rope that separates us common folk from the dancers. Soon the band will announce it’s time for the parents and friends to leave so the dinner can start. Laura winks at me as she crosses in front of the rope. I wave back and mouth, “Gorgeous!”

There. Friend duty complete.

I’m about to leave when Marissa steps up the aisle with one of the football players. Everyone else wore long ball gowns, but Marissa took the short mini-dress route with a keyhole exposing her cleavage. Nearly a clubbing outfit.

I cringe as I watch her walk with this new guy who’s cute and buff, but as he swerves it’s obvious he’s a bit tipsy. Surprised he got past the wall of chaperones. He pulls her too close to his hip, hand brushing her butt. A remaining parent gasps. My heart drops.

What is Marissa doing with him?

She directs him through the turn of the aisle, taking a place on the dance floor. Immediately, he’s all up on her, grinding like crazy to the classical music. What the heck? Isn’t that for later, when the room darkens, and the music is just right? Not now. Nasty choice.

Marissa doesn’t seem to care though. Nope, in fact, she grinds back.

I hear her mom squeal from behind me, “Look, George. Doesn’t she look hot in that dress?”

Her dad nods, never looking up from his phone. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without that thing glued to his palm. I’ve never liked him with his long hair greased back. It’s creepy. Thankfully, he wasn’t around much when we used to hang out.

Oh, awesome. Marissa’s turned around and her date moved in, wrapping himself around her so he’s way too close to her butt. Her body moves with the music in pleasure. Wow. She’s putting on a good show. But that’s just it—it’s a show. I know that smile. It’s the same one she’d use when we’d leave her house whenever both parents were home. This isn’t fun for her at all.

Free from staring at her date’s face, she scans the dance floor for someone. Then I feel it, the pressure of her eyes landing on my own. She stops dancing, straightening up for a second, and then nods to me. Her smile disappears as she holds her gaze.

What’s happening to you? I ask with my eyes.

Hers are blank.

My insides squirm. I want to pull her away from that creep, take her home, and talk. But about what?

How she cheated with my boyfriend?

Used me?

Bullied me through the disguise of a friend? This doesn’t make sense. I should never want to speak with her again.

Marissa pushes her butt back into that guy with a grin as the DJ announces it’s time for dinner to start. Translation: observers, get out.

I scan the dancers, looking for Jen and Justin. A soft flash of pink catches my eye. She’s speaking with some of her cheerleading friends. Justin’s not there though. Maybe he’s getting their table?

A black head of hair near the escalator makes my heart jolt. But it’s not Justin, just the same head of hair. His dad stands with his back turned to Christy and Tonya. He’s tapping away on his iPad, oblivious to Justin’s mom asking him a question. He’s in his own world. Well, not totally, it seems he now lives in the same tech-realm as Marissa’s dad.

A security guard comes up to the rope. “I know it looks fun, but it’s time to go home,” she says, ushering me away like I’m part of all the underclassmen here who came to dream. I glance back one last time for Justin’s black hair. Nothing. I sigh, moving out the door with the younger students and parents.

As I’m stepping into the skyway to avoid the frigid December weather below, I hear my name called. I whip around to the most gorgeous sight—Justin running toward me. He pulls me close, kissing my forehead. “I know I’m here with Jen tonight,” he brushes the bangs out of my eyes, “but I want you to know how much I wish I was with you.”

As his words hit me, my eyes sting. It’s not like I hadn’t imagined going to the winter formal since I first heard of it freshman year. Or having a romantic date with Justin where I could wow him with what I wore.

I hug him, holding everything back.

This is for Jennifer. I can be strong for her.

“You look more gorgeous right now in your black pants, snow boots, and sweater, than any girl on that dance floor.” He pulls me up, his lips finding mine. “Can I see you tonight? I’ll sneak away from the hotel for a bit.”

I nod, knowing if I speak that I’m going to lose it. How does he always know the right thing to say?

“All right. I’ll text you.” He leans in again, kissing my head. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Later?”

“Yup.”

He waves as he weaves his way back toward the formal. I take a deep breath, reviewing basketball plays as I make it back to Dad’s car. As I turn on the ignition, the tears begin to fall.
Get a grip.
This is not a big deal. Jennifer needed Justin tonight. This is the right thing to do. I’m Jen’s friend. Would Marissa have ever done something like that for me?

No.

I smile, wiping away the tears from my cheek. No, she wouldn’t have. Which means I escaped becoming Marissa. I know how to be a good friend.

At least there’s that.

***

I white-knuckle the steering wheel as I strain to see through the blowing snow. I’m not a bad driver, but driving in a snowstorm freaks me out. It doesn’t matter that I’m only crawling along at twenty miles an hour with all the other cars. With the sun gone, it feels like eighty when driving in near white out. The intensity of this storm came out of nowhere.

I’m a fool for not taking Dad up on his offer to drive me downtown. There’s no way they would’ve let me drive if they knew the storm was going to be this bad. The weatherman said a few inches. My ass.