Sass & Serendipity (26 page)

She had to get out of there. At some point she’d lost control of the conversation. It was more proof that she couldn’t rely on her own wits when it came to Prentiss.

“Just remember what I said earlier,” she said, backing toward her car, not caring if her shoes sank into the murky water. “We should try to avoid each other. It’s just better that way. Simpler.”

Her hand hit the Jetta, sweeping over the familiar hail dents on the trunk. She quickly spun around and climbed inside, trying to ignore Prentiss’s sunglassed stare.

Thank god the car restarted. It shuddered and coughed and finally snarled to life. Gabby backed out of the space, careful not to mow down Prentiss. Meanwhile, he kept on watching her through his shades, thumbs hooked in his front pockets, as if he were posing for some gardening calendar. As if he had nothing else to do but marvel at her stupidity. It annoyed her to no end.

Gabby rolled down the window. “And one more thing,” she yelled as she drove past. “Quit wasting water!”

Daphne skipped down the road, her ponytail swinging, sneakers pounding out an iambic rhythm on the sidewalk. All her sweat from cheerleading practice cooled in the breeze.

It hadn’t been a great day. In fact, parts of it had really sucked. Tracy and Sheri had yakked about her all through fourth period. Todd Carothers had pointed at her in the annex corridor and laughed. And while the other cheerleaders hadn’t wasted too much time slamming her during workouts, they also hadn’t included her in their gossip sessions about Lynette—who’d been absent, unsurprisingly.

Daphne had only seen Luke once, in the hall after science class, but thankfully he hadn’t spotted her … or at least he acted as if he hadn’t. Her knees had almost buckled at the sight of him, and slightly lesser amounts of the familiar pain and confusion had shot though her like an earthquake aftershock. But somehow she had remained upright. She wasn’t sure if this newfound strength had been implanted inside her—by Gabby or Mule or a week of fitful hibernation—or if the whole, awful ordeal had uncovered forgotten reserves deep within her.

Whatever. It didn’t matter. She was proud of herself for making it through the day without running away, throwing up, or weeping uncontrollably. And for approaching her teachers to see about make-up work. All in all, she felt triumphant, and she wanted to celebrate her victory in some way. How, she wasn’t sure. But she knew who with.

Mule’s house was looming into view. A blue, turn-of-the-century bungalow on a cul-de-sac near downtown, it had been a great source of pride when his dad had been healthy. Mr. Randolph had always been out on the roof replacing shingles or trimming the hedges that bordered the yard. Now the place looked kind of neglected and sad. The yard
was mowed, but not carefully edged, as it always used to be. A piece of plywood had been nailed up over a missing windowpane, and the paint job had been streaked by grimy rainwater seeping from the overstuffed gutters. Gabby said that Mule always did what he could, but he was too swamped with watching his dad and trying to make the grades for a scholarship.

A familiar figure was sitting on the porch swing, flipping through a textbook the size of a small suitcase.

“Mule!” she shouted, and broke into a run.

Mule got to his feet and squinted through the sunshine toward her.

“Daphne? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said, coming to a halt on the top step. “Why?”

“Just … you never come here. I thought …” He shook his head. “Never mind. What’s up? How’d it go today?”

“It went great! That’s why I’m here. I wanted to thank you for your help.”

“Thank me? I didn’t do anything.”

“You did! If it wasn’t for you, I would have spent the whole day at home crying into a bowl of ice cream. You were so awesome.”

Mule made a face and then smiled down at his shoes. Bands of red spread over his neck and across his nose and cheeks, making him look like a curly-haired peppermint stick.

“I faced down those creeps, just like you told me to,” she said. “I can’t believe I got through it.”

“Of course you did. I knew you could,” he said.

“And guess what else? Ms. Manbeck gave one of her surprise quizzes today … and I passed with an eighty-three!” She pressed her hands together and hopped up and down on the toes of her tennis shoes.

“Really?” A wide, open-mouthed smile lifted his features. “That’s so great!”

Daphne threw her arms around him in a tight hug. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

She hadn’t meant to hug him; it had just happened. Even Mule seemed surprised. He stiffened at first and then relaxed into it, wrapping his long arms around her back. It was nice, actually. His left pectoral made the perfect pillow, and she could feel him resting his chin on her head. Good old Mule.

Eventually they pulled apart. He grinned awkwardly and tamed the strands of hair his whiskers had pulled loose from her ponytail.

“I’m happy for you,” he said, nodding. “Glad to hear things are set back to right.”

Daphne laughed. “Yeah, now all I need is for Luke to move to Siberia and for Shelly’s Boutique to take back that stupid prom dress I’ll never use. Then everything will be perfect.”

“I could take you to prom.”

Daphne’s eyes popped wide. She cocked her head, unsure whether she had actually heard right. “What?” she asked.

“I mean … if you don’t want to waste the dress and all … I could take you.”

“You’d do that?”

“Sure, why not? It’d help show everyone that you aren’t
giving in. Besides, it’d be fun. I mean”—he bit his lip, looking unsure—“don’t you think so?”

Trickles of warmth were shooting all over her. It was so sweet! Once again Mule was coming to her rescue. She’d get to dance under the streamers and be seen in her princess gown. Why couldn’t more guys be like him? Why couldn’t Luke?

The sound of a car door slamming startled them. Daphne glanced up to see her sister coming up the sidewalk toward them.

“What are you doing here?” Gabby asked her. “I thought you were at cheer practice.”

“It’s over,” she replied. “I came by to say thanks and … guess what?” Her feet started bouncing all over again. “I get to go to prom after all! Mule’s going to take me!”

Gabby’s mouth fell open and her brow lost its trademark furrow. She looked so stunned, Daphne almost started giggling.

“Can you believe it?” Daphne said.

“Ah … no.” Gabby glanced over at Mule, who gave her a thin smile. “I can’t.”

“What a wild day,” Daphne went on. “I thought it would be the worst one ever, and it’s ended up being one of the best.” She slung her right arm around Mule in a sideways hug.

“So … I guess this means you say yes?” Mule asked.

Daphne laughed. “Yes. The answer is yes.”

“You know what?” Gabby lightly thumped the side of her head. “I totally forgot my calc stuff. What an idiot. Could be at home. Or work. Maybe school …” She backed down the
steps to the sidewalk. “I’ll go look for it, but it’ll probably take a while. Luckily homework isn’t that bad today.”

Mule peered at her strangely, as if studying her face for signs of rational thought. Could he tell she was lying? Probably. He knew her too well. Plus, her book bag was clearly sagging with the backbreaking weight of her calculus textbook. Meanwhile Daphne kept on grinning, her pretty, baby-deer eyes glistening with fresh daydream material. She hadn’t looked this happy in days. And yet all Gabby wanted to do was shake her till she stopped smiling.

“So I’ll just go,” Gabby called out as she turned toward the car. “You guys carry on!”

For the second time in fifteen minutes she prayed to an almighty being for her car to start. Thankfully, her wish was granted. The Jetta roared to life immediately, its entire frame shuddering as if it, too, wanted to get away from that place as soon as possible.

She had to steer into the driveway in order to go the other direction. The polite thing to do would be to give one final wave, but she didn’t. She couldn’t bear to see Mule’s baffled expression. Or Daphne bouncing on her toes as if the floor had suddenly become burning hot. Or the lack of physical space between the two of them.

As soon as she accelerated out of sight, she let herself think about what had just happened.

This was too weird. Daphne and … Mule? But he was Gabby’s. Sure, they weren’t a couple. It was totally platonic and chummy and even boring at times. But they were still exclusive. They’d never said so out loud, but it was understood.
Other people weren’t allowed. Especially siblings! And especially now.

She hadn’t driven over there just to do homework. She’d also needed Mule—the faithfulness and simplicity of him. She’d wanted to tell him about confronting Prentiss, hoping to make Mule feel less threatened, hoping that a good vent session on Prentiss’s water wasting would make things feel normal between them again. It even occurred to her on the drive over that maybe she and Mule actually
could
do something special for prom night—a yay!-we’ve-almost-made-it-through-high-school sort of thing. Only now …

Damn it, Daphne!
Gabby was surprised to feel tears running down her cheeks. All the numbness and confusion were slowly hardening into anger. The more Gabby thought about it, the more unjust it seemed. Daphne always got everything. Looks, popularity, the freedom to screw up over and over again. Now she got Mule, too? The one guy on earth Gabby trusted? The only person who could help her feel sane again?

Gabby found herself puttering down Main Street, unsure where she should go. She didn’t want to head home and risk seeing Prentiss, and she really didn’t want to go back to Mule’s. She’d give anything for Pinkwater to call her on her cell and beg her to work a shift at the theater, but that would only happen if she were having a particularly good day.

So instead, she just … drove. Past Quick’s Pharmacy and the boutiques of downtown, their display windows all done up in a prom theme. Past Hawthorne’s Barbecue and Duke’s Burgers and Thunder Alley, the sites of so many awkward dates with Dad. Past Chandler Creek, which flowed southeast,
toward Make-Out Ridge, the site of her dreamy afternoon with Sonny. Every place brimmed over with memories, most of them bad or sad. Every site seemed to be thumbing its nose at her and going “nyah nyah nyah.” There was no safe zone, no sanctuary.

Stupid town! Thank god she had turned in her scholarship application that morning. Hopefully it would seal the deal on her escape. She couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there, away from her family and her so-called best friend. Away from Prentiss and Dad Saturdays and Sonny’s ghost.

There wasn’t anything here for her in Barton. Not anymore. The whole town, it seemed, was done with her.

Daphne frowned at the display case in Galvan’s Floral and Gifts. Apparently she had a lot to learn about flowers. She’d thought picking out a boutonniere would be easy, but it wasn’t. There were all different types of blooms, greeneries, ribbons, and colors to consider, as well as overall price.

At least she knew which ones she didn’t want. Not the ugly tropical one that looked like it snared flying insects with its long, spotted petals. Not the puny single chrysanthemum that would probably disintegrate before the first dance. And not the superlarge, superexpensive one that dwarfed most of Mom’s houseplants.

“Could I see number eight again?” she asked as sweetly as possible.

“Of course,” said Nicholas, the clerk. By now his polite smile had fallen at the corners.

He pulled out the well-worn sample and a laminated photo. This one was nice and simple. It had very little greenery, no ribbon, and a large rosebud the color of a ripe strawberry—not
exactly her dress’s shade of pink, but close enough. Plus, it was in her price range.

“I think I’ll take that one,” she said.

Nicholas sighed through his nose, making his nostrils flare. “You
think
you will?”

“I will take it,” Daphne said more decisively.

He rang up her order, moving at the pace of a NASCAR pit crew member, and soon she found herself stepping out into the afternoon sunshine.

Daphne paused beside the front window, feeling a tug of doubt. She was pretty sure Mule would like the simple rose boutonniere, but she really didn’t know his likes and dislikes that well. Maybe she should just ask him? If nothing else, she knew he was easy to talk to.

Checking the time on her cell phone, she saw that it was earlier than she’d thought. She wished Gabby had come with her, but her sis had refused, saying she had too many weekend chores. Daphne had then offered to pick up some food while she was out running prom errands, but Gabby hadn’t seemed all that grateful. Of course, she probably didn’t believe Daphne would actually remember. Lately her older sis had been extra cranky and standoffish.

She’d show Gabby. Daphne shouldered her purse and headed toward the grocery store. Not only would she provide the meal, she’d cook it herself. That ought to prove she could be responsible.

The Minimax was surprisingly packed. Daphne grabbed a basket and headed for the instant foods section. She might be more dependable lately, but she hadn’t magically learned to cook.

She scanned the shelves, looking for something easy yet nutritious enough to stand up to Gabby’s standards.

“Pardon me,” she said to someone standing in the middle of the aisle. Just as she started to veer around him, she paused and did a double take. It was Luke.

“Hi,” he said.

Daphne didn’t respond. She was caught off guard. For days she’d managed to avoid his gaze at school, and now here they were, face to face. A million conflicting thoughts and feelings jammed inside her, rendering her motionless. She suddenly understood why deer don’t run out of the path of an approaching semi.

“You shopping?” he asked, then he shook his head and chuckled somewhat lamely. “Course you are. That was a stupid question.” He seemed nervous. That was weird.

By now her emotional logjam was sorting itself out. Mainly the old familiar hurt had welled back up, like a puddle of water returning after a dry spell.

“I guess you’re not speaking to me,” he said. “I don’t blame you. We were—I was—pretty awful, huh?”

Daphne focused on a nearby box of Rice-A-Roni. Luke’s question seemed too obvious to answer. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure.

“I just … 
Damn!
I don’t know how to put this. I don’t even know how to act around you.…” He raked his hand through his hair and scowled down at the can of chili in his basket.

Daphne was amazed to see such misery in his face. She found herself wondering what he must be going through, what it must have been like for him. “Look,” she said, gazing
at him neutrally. “You don’t have to be freaked out around me. I got carried away at the party and said some pretty heavy stuff. I didn’t know that you …” She paused and took a breath. “Anyway, I promise I’m not a stalker or anything. I’m just getting dinner.”

A smile stole across his face. “I know. I don’t think that. I mean, yeah, I was kind of blown away by what you said, but I know you aren’t weird.” He swallowed hard and looked past her. “I’m sorry, Daphne. You were, like, the nicest person to me when I moved here, and then I treated you like a jerk.”

Daphne’s vision clouded. This was exactly what she’d wanted to hear from him. It almost felt unreal.

“I just … I was new and I wanted to be part of an in crowd. I never have been before. And here were guys like Walt and Todd wanting to hang with me. And here were girls like Lynette—” He broke off, eyeing her guiltily. “Anyway … I was stupid. I did stuff I don’t normally do.”

“Stuff like what?” she asked. She couldn’t help it. She had to know. For over a week she’d been tormenting herself, wondering how she could have been so wrong about him.

“Like messing around with Lynette,” Luke said to his shoes. “I don’t even like her. I mean, she’s cute and all, but she just came on to me and I didn’t know what to do. It was weird, but flattering. And I felt like it would be … I don’t know … 
impolite
to turn her down.”

Something gripped Daphne on the inside, in the space between her heart and stomach. She instinctively raised the plastic shopping basket to her chest and cradled it in her arms.

“And you weren’t coming, or so I thought. And I wasn’t even sure if we were friends or … something more.” He closed his mouth and sighed heavily through his nose.

“But then I did show up,” she said. “And you went with me. Upstairs. After you’d already—”

“I know,” he said quickly, to cut her off. Even though she wasn’t going to say it aloud anyway. “I know,” he said again, more softly. “Like I said, I was stupid. I was just doing what I thought I was supposed to do. I was trying to act like them.”

“What do you mean ‘them’? You
are
them. You stood there with them, making fun of me!” Daphne’s voice cracked, just slightly, but she held on to her anger and managed to keep herself steady. No matter what, she was not going to cry.

Luke’s shoulders hunched guiltily. “I know. I just … chickened out. I was all mixed up because of what you said, and then there they were making fun of you. If I’d stood up to them they would have totally written me off.…” He paused as a lady came down the aisle, picked up a can of French-fried onions, and made her way around the corner. “Anyway, I’m sorry. Really. I’m all mixed up. It’s like I want to be part of that crowd and I don’t want to. It can be really fun, but sometimes … sometimes I don’t feel like I’m really one of them. Like I’m just too different.”

Daphne peered at him, measuring his expression and replaying his last few sentences in her mind. How strange that he should say all that—things she herself had felt for years. It was as if all this time she’d been looking at him from the bottom of a swimming pool, beholding him through the distorting effects of water. Only now she’d suddenly resurfaced. And
she realized he wasn’t a perfect soul mate sent down from heaven to complete her. Nor was he an evil poser playboy. He was a real person, just like her. And maybe just as lost on the inside.

“You still hang out with them, though, right?” she asked. But of course he did. After all, that was what she’d done all through school—until recently. It was the safer choice. Once you’d been pulled into the orbit of the power group, it took too much effort to break out of it.

Luke nodded. “Yeah, I guess. But I don’t feel great about it. It’s not like any of them are my real friends. Or girlfriends.”

Again Daphne felt a clawing sensation in her midsection. What did he mean by that? Surely he’d realized that Lynette was done with him immediately after the party was over—if not sooner.

“Are you taking anyone to prom?” she asked. She couldn’t help herself. She was just too curious.

Luke’s features slackened. “You know,” he said, “that’s a great idea. We should go together. That would show the gang that we’re better than them.”

“Huh?” It took Daphne a moment to realize he’d misunderstood her. He’d assumed she was
asking
him to prom.

But of course he would. After all, she’d already professed her undying love to him.

“That would totally show those guys!” he went on, his eyes shining brighter than the nearby Gatorade sign. “If we show up arm in arm, all smiles, it would be like saying we don’t care what they say about us. Like all the stuff at the party never even happened.”

Never happened
 …

Daphne liked the sound of that. Maybe he was right. Maybe it could be a total do-over—a way to get her old carefree life back, a way to purge all the leftover hurt and embarrassment. She already had plans with Mule, but he would understand. In fact, he’d probably be relieved. The only reason he’d asked her was because he felt sorry for her.

Daphne gazed up at Luke’s smiling face. Her heart seemed to be teetering precariously, like a tipped vase. She had loved him so much, but then he’d hurt her so damn much. Now he wanted to get together. He’d even said he was sorry! Everything was working itself out, like a happy ending.

She was getting her fairy tale after all.

The phone rang and Gabby woke with a start, gasping and sweating.

She was lying on her mom’s bed, her open math book roofed heavily across her chest. Daylight streamed through the windows. She couldn’t remember when she’d gone from studying to sleeping, but she did remember the dream she had. In it, she had somehow shrunk to two or three inches tall. She was standing on the dining room table, waving her arms to get Mule’s attention, but he was too busy with Daphne to notice. The last thing she remembered was Mule carelessly tossing his calculus text onto the tabletop—the heavy blue-black cover crashing down on her head.…

Again the phone rang. Gabby sat up and rubbed her eyes, trying to remove all traces of the nightmare. Then she
grabbed the extension off the nightstand. “Hello?” she said, yawning slightly.

“Gabby, honey? Is that you?”

“Hi, Mom.” Just hearing her mother’s voice made Gabby’s eyes water. Or maybe it was a residual effect of the dream. Whatever the reason, she suddenly wanted to be caught up in one of her mom’s tight hugs.

“How are things going?”

“Okay.”

“Did you hand in the scholarship application?”

“Yes. First thing Monday.”

“Good! And how’s Daphne?”

Gabby paused. “She’s fine.”

“You say that like you aren’t so sure. Is something wrong?” she asked, sounding worried. “The last couple of times I talked to her she sounded very distracted and sleepy. And now you do. Are you guys staying up really late?”

“No. It’s just … you know. She drives me crazy sometimes. Lately we’ve been kind of avoiding each other. But we’re dealing.”

“Can I talk to her?”

“She’s out. She’s busy running errands for prom.”

“Oh, that.” Her mom chuckled. “Please make sure she focuses on other things, too, will you? Like school and chores?”

“I’ll try.”

“So are you going?”

“Where to?”

“Prom!”

“No way,” Gabby said, laughing sharply. “What a waste of
time and money. Besides, who would I go with? All the guys around here are lying lunkheads.”

“Don’t say that. What about Mule?”

Gabby swallowed. “Mule especially.”

“Did something happen between you two?”

Again a watery haze covered Gabby’s eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Sweetheart …”

The soft lilt in her mother’s voice increased the tears to a steady trickle. Mom hadn’t used that gentle inflection with her in years. Part of Gabby wished her mom could be right there, holding her and rocking her and smoothing her hair with her hands, the way she used to. But another part of her was angry—angry at her mom for bringing up the latest in a whole string of subjects she couldn’t bear to think about, and angry at herself for transforming into a weepy toddler who wanted her mommy.

“You were right all along,” Gabby managed to say as her throat constricted with emotion. “Guys suck! They all end up betraying you in some way.”

For a long moment, Gabby couldn’t hear anything, and she wondered if she’d somehow lost the phone connection. Then her mother let out a long breath that ended in a small moan. “Oh, dear, I’ve really been unfair, haven’t I?” she said. “I should never have said those things.”

“What are you talking about? You’ve told me the truth. You warned me about men, and you were right.”

“No. I wasn’t,” her mom said. “I was angry and scared. I needed a buddy and I used you. But that was a mistake.”

“What do you mean?” Gabby rose to her feet, her calculus textbook crashing to the floor with a huge thud. “It sounds like you’re saying it was wrong to be my friend.”

“It was.” Her mom’s voice broke. “Oh, sweetheart, I hate discussing this over the phone, but I’m worried about you. I’m worried that I’ve made you bitter. I messed up.”