Freshman Year & Other Unnatural Disasters (24 page)

So now I’m made up, bejeweled, heeled, dressed, and ready to go. I think I look good. I hope Josh thinks so. I mean, this is kind of a “take it or leave it” situation for him, but it would be great if he didn’t puke when he saw me heading his way. I don’t think the old self-esteem could handle that, frankly.

Deep breath. I grab the silk wrap and beaded clutch Mom lent me and head down to the living room. I practically fall down the stairs when my dad blinds me with his camera but manage not to end up in a heap at the foot of the staircase. A neck brace would really
not
complete my ensemble.

“Oh, Kelsey … you look like a
WOMAN
!” my mother exclaims.
Gross. Can we not say things like that in front of Dad, please? Or at all?

“Thanks, Mom. So … can we go?”

“Just a few more pictures—and you’d better get some with your date! I still can’t believe he didn’t come over here to introduce himself, by the way. When I was your age—”

“Right, yes, I know. But seriously, things have changed since the invention of electricity. So … can we wrap this up?”

“Watch it, Kelsey. Just because I’m glowing with maternal pride at the moment doesn’t mean I can’t ground you for the rest of your life starting right now.”

Argh. Where is my Typical Adolescent leeway when I need it most?

“Sorry, but I’m nervous! My hair might get stringy. And I don’t want to be late.”

“Come on, honey, you look terrific,” my dad says, hauling out a scary camera attachment that will probably burn my skin off. “Just a couple more pics, huh? Stand with your mom over there near the mantel.”

Sigh.

A hundred years later, we finally leave. Miraculously, my mother gets an emergency phone call from my sister just as we pull up to Lexi’s house. Apparently, she can’t find her Annie costume (could someone have hidden it behind the washing machine? I wonder …) and Mom is therefore unable to hang around and embarrass me in front of my date. Pity, that.

Josh looks really cute in his tux. He stands by stoically with Robby while Lexi and I hug and shriek over each other’s outfits. Lexi, in a strapless silvery sheath of a gown and her hair curled halfway down her back, looks like she just wandered off the cover of
Elle.
But I actually feel pretty good about myself tonight, even in comparison.

“You look nice,” Josh says. His voice is much deeper than I expected, which is a tad disconcerting. I don’t know if I’m prepared to slow dance with Voldemort tonight.

“Thanks. And thanks for inviting me, by the way,” I say breezily, like this is the fifth prom I’ve been to this month. I even manage to pin on the boutonniere my mother insisted I bring for him without stabbing either of us. Success!

“You guys want some champagne?” Lexi asks, holding up an open bottle.

“Nah, I’m sticking with herbal tonight,” Josh says. He pulls a little ceramic pipe that looks like a regular cigarette from the inside pocket of his coat jacket. “It’s a one-hitter,” he explains when he sees me looking. “You want? I’ve got plenty.”

“Uh, no, thanks, I’m fine with—”

“Josh, you can’t smoke that in my house!” Lexi interjects. “My parents will freak if they smell it. Anyway, I don’t want my dress to reek of pot.”

“Fine, whatever. I can wait till we get there.” Josh tucks the little pipe back in his jacket. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his tuxedo pants and rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, staring at the ceiling. Then he gazes at the floor for a while.
Is he already high, or is he just really boring? Or both?
I sip my champagne and smother a giggle when Lexi rolls her eyes at me.

Robby downs his champagne in one gulp and sets the glass on the coffee table. “So … should we head?”

“Wait! I promised my mom I’d get a picture of all of us!” I grab my digital camera from my purse. One plus about being with guys who barely speak: I don’t bother feeling dumb when I say dorky things about pictures for my mom. Who cares?

Lexi’s dad comes in and takes pictures of the four of us in every combination possible. My mother will be simply delighted with the shots of me and Josh (who I’ve now discerned is definitely somewhat stoned as well as dumber than a box of hair) standing awkwardly next to each other. Then we pile into the limo, stop to pick up the rest of our group—two other guys from the lacrosse team and their dates—and head to the dance.

When we pull up to the hotel, it’s totally gorgeous and all lit up and I start to get really excited and nervous for no particular reason. The guys flash our invitations to the doormen and we go up in the elevator, exiting into a beautiful ballroom all decorated in black and white. (It’s not until later that I realize the theme is actually “The Intrigue of Chess,” which is weird and makes no sense at all. Who was on this prom committee, anyway? And what could the rejected suggestions possibly have been? Bunions? Gang Warfare? But I digress.) We find our table, put down our wraps, and Lexi and I head for the bathroom immediately to check our makeup. Of course, when we get there, it’s full of girls.

“Lex,” I say quietly. “You didn’t tell me Josh was a total pothead! If I go home smelling like weed, my mother will actually kill me. Not like yours—but real, actual
death
.”

“I know, sorry—they sort of all are, and I forgot you don’t smoke. But he won’t do it here. I mean, there are teachers and stuff! He’s a bit dim, but not
that
dumb.” Lexi whips out some shimmery lip gloss and a little brush and starts applying it carefully.

“Yeah, about that—”

“Oh my God. How did
you
get in here?” I turn and there she is—Ms. Julie Nelson herself, surrounded by her friends. Of course I knew she’d be here, but I didn’t think I’d run into her in the first ten minutes.
Do not panic. She can’t do anything to you. She’s just a mean, scary girl. Remember how well you handled her after the play?

“Oh, hey, Julie,” I say, trying to sound friendly. “I’m here with Josh, uh—”

“Just don’t get in my way, Finkelstein. This is
my
prom, not yours.” She fluffs her hair in the mirror, then turns back. “Hi, Lexi. Hot dress.”

And she stomps out with her friends in tow.

“Well, that went remarkably well!” I say to Lexi with false cheer.

“Whatever, Kels—just ignore her. You are awesome and she’s just insecure.” Lexi scoops up her makeup and crams it back in her purse. “Ready?”

“Let’s roll,” I say. We head for the door.

When we get back to the ballroom, Robby is sitting at our table with one of the other girls we came with. He looks up excitedly when Lexi approaches—though, to be fair, so does every other guy in the place. Josh, the other two lacrosse players, and one of their dates are nowhere in sight. I sit down and start flexing my toes, which already hurt inside my new shoes, when Jill, who played Golde in
Fiddler,
slides into the seat next to me.

“You look fantastic!” she gushes. “Where’s your date?”

“Hey! You look great, too—I
love
your eye makeup. And I have no idea where my date is, actually. Hey, Robby,” I say, leaning across the table. “Where’s Josh, do you know?”

“Oh, yeah, he and the guys went out for a smoke. They’ll be back in a sec, prob’ly,” Robby offers. I see some movement under the table and realize he’s pouring something from a flask into his glass of Coke.
Sweet
.

I’m contemplating how to get in on that when Dr. Shanman, the scary math teacher and one of the chaperones, approaches the table. She looks mad. She also appears to be wearing a burgundy bedspread, belted around the middle with a kind of weird sash. I
think
it’s meant to be a dress of some sort. At least she took off her customary leather fanny pack for the occasion.

“Robert Amabile!” she bellows, totally drowning out Jay-Z’s latest dance remix. “Do you know where your teammates are?”

Robby’s head snaps up. His hands are still underneath the table. Oh, God. This is not good. “Uh … yeah, I think they had to make a phone call.”

“Really, all of them together? How interesting.”

“Uhhhh …”

“I think Steve had to make a call and the others went, too, Dr. Shanman. Is everything okay?” Lexi interjects smoothly. Man, she is good under pressure. I glance at Jill, who looks as freaked out as I feel.

“No, young lady, it is not.” She lowers her voice and speaks in a dangerously dark tone. “Your friends have been escorted off the premises for smoking marijuana, which as I’m sure you are aware is
illegal
and, obviously, expressly forbidden at school functions. Now, since you four are still in the ballroom, I will assume that blah blah blah …”

Oh. My. God.

Seriously? We’ve been here for fifteen minutes and my date has already been kicked out and possibly arrested? This is very bad. Am I in trouble by association? I’ve never even
tried
pot! But I had a glass of champagne at Lexi’s. What if they do a Breathalyzer test? What if Shanman makes Robby stand up right now and she finds his flask and he’s kicked off the lacrosse team and we’re all roped together and tossed in the Hudson River?!

I guess this means I’m not going to get a prom portrait taken with Josh tonight. My mom is not going to like that one bit.

38

We do not get arrested. Dr. Shanman harangues us about surrounding ourselves with the right kind of people in the future and then stalks off to go write a report about half the lacrosse team, who were all caught and will probably not be playing a whole lot of lacrosse the last month of school.

Once Shanman left, Robby practically hyperventilated about his close call; the only reason he wasn’t out there with Josh and the others is because Lexi had gotten so pissed off at him when he pulled the same stunt at the winter formal that he decided to hold off till after dinner to ditch her and go get high. A real romantic, Robby is. Lexi seems to appreciate the gesture, though, as she is now comforting him with a great deal of gusto and smearing of lip gloss on the dance floor.

Jill excused herself to fill her friends in on the exciting scandal, so I sit with Jen—the other now-dateless girl at my table—and try to find something to talk about. Turns out the only thing we have in common is that we are both sitting alone at the prom.

I hate to say it, but so far? Prom blows.

I grab my cell phone and step outside the ballroom to call Em. She picks up after one ring.

“Hi! So, how’s it going? Do you like Josh? Does everyone love your dress?”

“Em. You are not going to believe what is happening over here. It’s insane, even for me.”

I quickly fill her in. When I wrap up the pot saga, she asks, “So, you’re just at the prom by yourself now?”

“Uh, sort of, yeah. I mean, Lexi is here, obviously, but she’s with Robby. And then there’s the effervescent Julie Nelson, who I think would rather be stuffed inside a suitcase with a scorpion than take me under her wing for the evening.”

“Should I call JoJo and Cass? Maybe we can—”

“Well, look who it is,” a familiar voice behind me cuts in. I can practically feel Ben’s ironic grin before I even see it.

“Sorry, Em—I’ll call you back, okay?” I hang up and turn around.

Oh, man. Ben looks really, really hot in a tuxedo. Valentina is with him, of course, wearing a beautiful vintage dress that fits her perfectly and different glasses than usual—these have tiny rhinestones on the sides. They both look glamorous and perfect and suddenly I feel like Travis playing dress-up in my mom’s clothes.

Okay, fine. I will admit it. I totally have a crush on Ben.

Which is why I have to get out of here immediately.

“Hey, Ben. Hey, Val, uh … you guys look amazing. I mean, I’d love to chat, but I have to, uh, go find Lexi because, you know, we, uh … came together. So. Yeah.”

“Hang on a sec—where’s your date? Didn’t you come with Josh Ostfeld?”

How did he know that?
Is it possible Ben
has
been keeping tabs on me?

“Oh, yeah, Josh. Uh, he got arrested. I think. I don’t know, actually, but he was definitely removed from the premises.” Good, that’s great. Now they know you’re here without a date.
Why don’t you just print up invitations to your pity party and call it a night?

“Arrested? You’re kidding, right?” Valentina looks stunned. Then she bursts into peals of laughter. “Pay up!” she commands, turning to Ben and holding her hand out, palm up. “I told you someone would get kicked out in the first hour. God, the guys in our class are such
tools
.”

She turns back to me. “Thanks, Kelsey—you just made my night!” She puts her hand on Ben’s arm and squeezes it affectionately. “Babe, I’ve gotta go find Zoe and dish. See you in there, okay?” Then she gathers up her awesome full skirt and heads into the ballroom.

This would be a perfect time for Ben to say something along the lines of,
Gosh, Kelsey. You look so beautiful, I think I will immediately break up with Val and sweep you off to the Riviera for a romantic weekend. I trust you enjoy bouillabaisse?

“Kelsey, Kelsey, Kelsey. You really know how to find trouble, don’t you?” Ben’s eyes crinkle up as usual. Now I sort of want to punch him.

“Well, I do what I can to keep you entertained, Ben. No need to thank me—it’s a totally free service. So, yeah. I’ve gotta go.”

I dash away as fast as I can in my teetering shoes, only glancing back as I’m slipping through the doors of the ballroom. Is it me, or does he look just the tiniest bit perturbed?

Eh. It’s probably just me.

When I see that Lexi is now slow-dancing with Robby in a way that definitely does
not
invite interruption, I make an executive decision to head to the bathroom and collect my thoughts.

I stand in front of the sinks and look at myself in the mirror. Ugh. This is a total rerun of the night of the Foreign Scarves concert—me, staring at myself in the mirror, wondering what the hell happened.

I adjust one of the straps on my dress, thinking. This whole year has been ridiculous. First soccer, then fights with my friends, the tragic pictures in the paper, guy disasters, the play … it’s like I’m some kind of magnet for catastrophe! The plan was to live up to my full potential and be awesome and make the world notice me for a change. Well, they noticed all right. What a nightmare.