The Anti-Prom (21 page)

Some fairy godmother.

I wander to the edge of the patio and gaze down at the scene. The A-list has laid claim to the Moroccan-style furniture near the pool house, while the guys joke around, trying to entertain them. None of the girls are braving the water, I note, keeping their careful hairstyles well away from the chlorine. As I watch, Bliss dances over to Brianna and pulls her into an affectionate hug. They tumble back onto a lounger, gossiping happily.

I turn away.

“I heard they tried to book that band, G-link, but it fell through last-minute.”

Two girls begin to fill their plates nearby, gossiping about various prom dramas. I feel their eyes on me, acutely self-conscious. This is why I’ve never tried crashing these parties before. It’s one thing getting in, but then what?

“Wait, wasn’t Bliss Merino in that exact same outfit?”

I look up. The girls are shooting me glances, whispering loudly. They’re dressed in vintage-style dresses, with armfuls of bangles and red lipstick, and while they may not be part of Brianna’s clique, they’re still seniors, far above me in every way.

I start to blush, but then remember Bliss’s rehearsal in the car. Fake everything.

Forcing what I hope is a bored expression, I look over. “She was,” I say loudly. They stop whispering. I keep going. “She came in the same thing as me, so she changed.”

They pause. “Oh,” one says, but there’s something new in her voice. “It’s a great dress.”

“Really great,” her friend agrees. They look at me with something like respect in their eyes, as if Bliss submitting to my will suddenly marks me out as somebody significant.

“Thanks,” I say, blinking. “I . . . like yours too.”

“Oh my God, you have to try this cake!” The first one is distracted by the food. She takes another bite, licking frosting from her fingers. “Seriously!” They turn to the spread, my supposed fashion showdown forgotten.

But I wonder . . .

Turning, I make my way back inside to where the party thumps in every room. I stroll slowly through the rooms, aware of eyes on me, but this time, I pay more attention to the looks — the girls who graze my body in a quick head-to-toe glance as I pass, the boys whose eyes seem to zoom straight to my chest. I was too self- conscious to notice properly before, assuming that they were the same dismissive glares I’m so used to, but now, I can see I was wrong. These looks are different: tinted with envy, or lust, or admiration.

Nobody thinks I don’t belong.

I stand a little taller, reveling in the attention, when suddenly the music changes, and the room is fuller, packed with people yelling the lyrics as they jump. I slip into the kitchen to escape, knocking into somebody on the way out. “Sorry,” I say quickly, stepping aside.

“No problem.” The guy laughs. “It’s crazy out there!”

I look up and promptly stop breathing.

Tristan.

“Right, crazy,” I echo, my mind blank. I’m close enough to feel the heat of his body, to brush against the bare skin of his arm.

“But hey, it’s the last big party of the year. Might as well go all-out.” He grins down at me, eyes bright and blue. He’s still dressed in his button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up around his elbows, his tie askew. One lock of his hair falls, out of place but perfect.

I exhale in a tiny shiver.

“It’s Megan, right?”

I can’t speak. I’ve been gazing at him for three hours every week all year, ever since he walked into AP Calc and collapsed gracefully into a chair directly in my eyeline. He’s good with algebra, but shaky on statistical convergence problems. He uses beat-up ball-point pens fished from the depths of a North Face backpack, and prefers those black and red spiral-bound notebooks. I tried using them for a while, in the vain hope that I could strike up a conversation about stationery sometime, but the lines were ruled too wide for my liking, and aside from the same warm smile he gives everyone from lunch ladies to the swooning freshman girls, he’s never so much as spoken to me.

Until now.

“Sure, it’s a great party,” I manage to say, smiling at him. His gaze drifts to my cleavage, for just a split-second, and when he glances back up again, his grin is wider.

Thank you, Bliss.

“Hey, I saw some beers out by the food tables. You want to come hunt them down?”

I nod, and then — to my utter disbelief — he presses a hand against my back and begins to guide me carefully through the room.

My heart sings, and I follow.

“And I know the cabin only has like, four bedrooms, but I figure we can double up. Or draw straws for who gets privacy.” Brianna gives me a scandalous grin, stretching out on the lounge chair. The whole group is hanging down by the pool house with our own music system and stash of the best desserts: the VIP section for what’s already the most exclusive party in town. I relax beside her, finally back where I belong: in the center of things. No angry felons, or dirty parking lots, or humiliating karaoke incidents — just my friends, some great tunes, and a slice of mocha whip truffle cake that the caterer swears is practically fat-free.

Perfection.

Brianna looks out over the party like a princess surveying her kingdom. She’s still in her frothy blue prom gown, but considering how much it cost, I don’t blame her. “I can’t wait for summer vacation. It’s going to rock. No school, no work, just partying twenty-four seven.”

“Hell yes!” I give her a high five.

“Better hope Bliss and Cameron get one of the suites,” Nikki interrupts, taking another gulp straight from her champagne bottle. “’Cause I don’t want you rolling around in the next bed like you did over spring break.”

“Don’t be gross,” I complain. “We were only making out!”

“Sure you were.” Nikki snorts with laughter, elbowing me. I push her away, and she yelps, sliding down onto the floor with a bump. She looks around, blinking, and then giggles.

“She is so wasted. Shotgun I don’t hold her hair back,” I tell Courtney, not even bothering to keep my voice down.

Courtney sighs, perched on the edge of the bench. “But last time, she got puke all over my new shoes.”

“Don’t care!” I say, scooping up some more of the mocha frosting. “Not my problem.”

Brianna keeps chatting about summer plans, but I zone her out, sneaking a look around the party for Meg. It was kind of crappy to just cut her loose, but I don’t know what else I was supposed to do — keep her hanging at my heels all night? She must have known my invite didn’t mean mixing with Brianna and co. Sure, I can work magic with lip gloss and mascara, but that would be more like asking for a miracle. I sigh, not seeing her anywhere around the pool or balcony. She’s probably off in a corner somewhere, looking hot, but still too shy to get out and start having fun. It’s a shame; she was finally starting to loosen up, like being thrown in the deep end back with that security guard made her stop being such a timid wallflower.

Then I catch sight of her up by the patio doors, and my guilt disappears. She’s talking to Tristan, giggling flirtatiously while he stares down her dress, totally smitten. It’s the cutest thing: he’s teasing her about something, and her whole face is lit up, like she’s having the time of her life.

I grin. My work here is done.

“Hey B, where’ve you been?” An arm snakes around from behind, and I feel Cameron lean down to kiss my forehead. I tense. This is going to be the hard part: acting like nothing’s wrong until the news about him and Kaitlin breaks.

“Long story.” I force myself to smile, scooting over so there’s room beside me. “I’ve had the craziest night.”

“It’s been awesome,” he agrees, collapsing next to me. “But I missed you.” He kisses me lightly on the lips and then drapes an arm on my shoulder.

“Awwww.” Courtney giggles on my other side. “So cute!”

But Cameron was always the cute one. Even now as I study him, he looks like an adorable puppy, with his clothes wet through from the pool, and his hair dripping on my bare shoulder. It’s why I started liking him, how he was so sweet and genuine when other guys would try and seem cool, like they were serious players or something. Cameron never pulled that crap — I always knew exactly how he felt about me. At least, I thought I did.

“I like the shirt.” He grins, tracing the letters.

“And the socks.” I stick my feet out, wriggling my toes. “It’s all about the socks.”

He laughs, and I wonder how he can be like this, so
normal
. It’s like nothing has happened, and he wasn’t groping Kaitlin in the back of that limo a few hours ago. I start to feel disorientated, as if maybe it never happened at all, and I had some weird hallucination from the pain medication. But I only just took the pills, and I saw them together — too gross to be a dream. It was real.

“I’ve got to run inside,” I say, bobbing up. He grabs my hand and pulls me down to kiss me again.

“Come back soon.”

Courtney makes another envious noise, so I smile brightly, ruffling his hair the way I always do. “Sure!”

There’s a major line for the bathrooms downstairs, so I head up to Brianna’s room on the first floor. She’s got an en suite up there, along with every kind of perfume and styling product known to mankind, stacked in neat rows across the wide double sink. I linger by the mirror, checking that everything looks just perfect. Bad enough I’ve had to cover for where I’ve been all night; if anything seems even a little off with me, people will start asking questions. And if there’s one thing my friends love to do, it’s gossip.

“There you are, bitch.” I look up as Kaitlin swans in, beaming. She hugs me, checking her own reflection at the same time. “That outfit is the cutest! You should have said you were changing — we could have matched.”

She’s still wearing her pink dress. The easy-access one.

“Oh, yeah.” I try to grin back, even though I’m hit with a sudden urge to leave my handprint on her face. I turn away. “It was a last-minute thing.”

I rummage in my purse, not even paying attention until I can’t find my lip gloss. Then I realize: I switched bags with Meg. She’s got my ultra-juicy gloss, and I’m stuck with . . . ChapStick? I sigh.

“Anyway, I was meaning to say, my mom fixed up that spa day.” Kaitlin hops up on the counter top.

“What?”

She rolls her eyes. “Remember, that bonding thing? It’s set for next weekend. You and me, and our moms, and Brianna and her mom . . . We have to invite Sonja Ellis too”— she wrinkles her lip —“but they’re trying to get her parents on their charity board thing, so I guess it’s important.”

My heart sinks. Of course, our parents. They’re all connected by now — the lunches, tennis games at the club, dinners while us kids are out together. Just another reason I have to bite my lip and give Kaitlin a careless smile.

“Sounds like fun!” I exclaim, slamming my purse shut. “Come on, let’s go get some drinks.”

Then something makes me stop. “Hey, have you talked to Cameron?” I keep my voice casual.

Kaitlin looks up. “Tonight? Not much, he’s been around, though.” She raises her eyebrows. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing . . .” I sigh. “He’s just acting kind of weird.”

I sneak a look to check her expression, but Kaitlin doesn’t flinch. “Like how?”

“I don’t know . . . he’s being kind of clingy. Really full-on.” I wander back out into the bedroom. She follows. “I mean, he was texting all night,” I go on, “saying how much he missed me, how he couldn’t wait for us to spend some time together.”

“Sounds sweet.”

Kaitlin’s voice is kind of pinched. I feel a swell of satisfaction, the first bit of real emotion I’ve managed since getting here.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t bitch about it.” I give her a grin. “It’s nice, that he isn’t afraid to tell me how much he loves me.” This time, she definitely looks pissed, so I keep going. “Some guys will just fool around, you know, but Cameron always says how special I am. Don’t you think that’s great?”

“Great.”

We push through the crowd to the kitchen, and Kaitlin grabs the nearest cup of punch from Nico’s outstretched hand. “Hey!” he protests, but she chugs it down in one long gulp.

I watch her, wondering why she’s so rattled. I would have figured she’d be smug, knowing she’d taken something behind my back, but instead she seems genuinely annoyed at all my stories of Cameron’s devotion and love.

Maybe she thought he’d dump me for her.

I almost laugh out loud. That’s it! Kaitlin figured she could steal him away — show me up, and get the guy too. No freaking way.

“I got you something.” Cameron appears beside me as the rest of the group clusters into the room. I feel Kaitlin’s eyes on me, so I slide my arms around his waist and snuggle closer.

“I like presents.” I smile at him, but inside I’m cold.

He grins. “I was going to give it to you earlier, but . . . uh, anyway, here you go.” He pulls something from his pocket and drops it in my hand.

I look down. It’s a tiny heart-shaped pendant, fixed to a slim gold chain. Did he have it in his pocket while he was groping her, too?

The thought throws me, but then I remember that everyone’s watching. I make sure to gasp loudly.

“It’s gorgeous!” I say, holding up the necklace. “Look, Kaitlin, isn’t this cute?”