Kasey Screws Up the World (9 page)

It was the only thing I could hold onto that wasn’t disappointment.

“Think I can go as I am?” I joked. Tonight was formal night. My frizzy hair stuck out as if I’d just been electrocuted.

Lara squinted at me through the mirror. Gold sparkles glittered across her eyelid. “Take a shower.” She closed her other eye, unintentionally winking at me. “I’ll do your hair and make up.”

I didn’t deserve it, but I obliged, letting the hot water scald my skin in punishment for my sinful thoughts against my sister earlier. After the shower, Lara pressed the hair iron to a section of my hair. My frizzy curls straightened like taffy. Make-up and I were well acquainted, but there was something about the way Lara applied it to my face that made me shine. I always clumped my eyeliner or caked on too much powder. In her hands, I felt beautiful, like the girl I could be instead of the girl I was. Victoria Cruise instead of boring old Kasey. “Thanks,” I told her.

She patted my back. “I owed you one after the talent show.”

Then why did I feel it was the other way around?

All throughout dinner, Mom switched from proud gushing over Lara’s latest achievement to overbearing stage-mom as she filled Lara’s head with advice. Dad used each break in conversation to throw in a very bad joke. I sat there, forgotten.

After dinner, Lara and I went to meet the boys. When I spotted Finn, my breath caught in my throat. He leaned against a marble column, decked out in a suit with his hair gelled back spiffier than during the day. The thoughts that went through my head were not appropriate to repeat on this blog.

I tugged at my dress. All of a sudden, it seemed too loose in the boobs and too tight in the waist. It was a straight coral A-line with ruffles at the bottom and spaghetti straps. When I wore it to the homecoming dance—which I went to with a leftover friend of Denise’s date, who tried to feel me up during every slow dance and spent all the fast dances swigging vodka while I blocked him from the watchful eyes of the teachers—it was considered risqué because we weren’t allowed to wear spaghetti straps at school. Now it felt babyish, especially compared to the way Lara’s red satin clung to her curves and showed off her long legs.

Finn pulled me into a hug and whispered in my ear, “You look very pretty tonight.”

A rush of nerves attacked me, gathering in my elbows in the form of sweat. “You too.” I looked up at him from beneath my eyelashes. “I mean…you look hot.”

He flipped up his collar. “Yeah, you’re right. Good luck fending off the other chicks tonight.”

I studied my nails as if I didn’t care. “Who says I’ll fend them off? That way I won’t feel guilty when I meet my other boyfriend tonight.”

He flexed his non-existent muscles. “I can take him.”

We moseyed to the elevators, weaving around couples gliding through the hallways. I imagined this was what the first class deck of the Titanic was like, only without the tragedy. And the corsets.

Finn led me down the hallway to our secret lair. I felt like we were going on an underground mission, both of us spies for the C.I.A. When we passed through the hallway where we kissed, my heart pounded in a military march. I wanted the guts to try again. We hit the spot, and we both glanced at each other. Of course, I ruined the nice moment by giggling. Maturity? Not my strong suit.

They weren’t kidding when they said seventeen and under. Most of the kids in the club probably still had recess at their school. The girls stood on one side, separated from the pack of guys lingering near the far wall. With everyone still in their formal wear, we were one
Cha Cha Slide
away from this turning into a Bar Mitzvah. A DJ bopped his head behind his booth, pumping dance music that no one had any intention of dancing to.

“So much for hot chicks,” Finn said. “You excluded of course.”

“So much for dancing.” The words were out of my mouth before my brain could veto them.

“We haven’t ruled out dancing.” Finn took a step onto the floor, positioning himself directly beneath the requisite disco ball. He coaxed me to join him.

I shook my head. “We’ll look stupid. No one else is dancing.” A relieved breath escaped my throat as I longingly stared at the empty dance floor.

He glanced at me, then at the crowd. “Wait here.”

Finn walked away to the DJ booth, abandoning me in the middle of the room with a bunch of kids that still liked their mommies staring at me. He spoke to the DJ, who nodded.

The hip-hop song suddenly stopped, and a slow ballad crooned through the room.

When Finn returned, he leaned into my ear. “Surely you won’t be embarrassed to slow dance, Victoria Cruise?” Goosebumps popped at his warm breath.

He had a way of saying just the right thing to get me to agree. With the sweep of his fingers interlocking in mine, he gathered my nerves and crumbled them to the floor.

My heels clicked on the hardwood floor and echoed throughout the room. Finn clutched my waist, and his grip felt amazing. He smelled delicious, a mixture of fading cologne and the chocolate soufflé they served at dinner. My eyelashes fluttered closed as we swayed to the music. I let our audience of teenyboppers drop away.

The Rihanna ballad coursed through my veins, surging into my ankles. My feet urged to move across the floor. I fought against the need and pressed my body even closer to his, giving in to another desire, one I was far less afraid of. The smooth fabric of his suit jacket brushed against my bare shoulders. His hands tightened at my hips, holding me in place.

This was what I needed: an anchor to weigh me down.

“Come on kids,” The DJ boomed over the microphone, and my eyes snapped open. Finn laughed at the way I gasped. “If you don’t dance,” the DJ continued, “I’m coming out there and pairing you up.”

Around me, the DJ pulled kids onto the dance floor, placing their hands on each other’s shoulders. He was cute and playful about it. I let out a breath, relieved we weren’t the center of attention anymore. When Finn smiled, little crinkles formed in the corner of his eyes. His lips looked so inviting, and I wanted to feel them pressed against mine again. I leaned in…

He raised his eyebrows, stuck out his tongue, and crossed his eyes.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be,” I said, making a monkey face to rival him. He challenged me to a new battle, dropping his hands from my waist to pry his lips open further. His tongue waggled at me. I laughed, and the thought that ran through my mind surprised me.
Lara and Hayden probably weren’t having this much fun
. They probably weren’t having fun at all. Dancing was now Lara’s job, and she wouldn’t waste precious seconds of practicing to make some funny faces with a cute boy. She’d told me I was funny. I realized in that moment that she wasn’t; she could never relax enough to joke. This was one area that I had the advantage.

After I rivaled with pressing a finger to my nose and pushing it upward like a pig, complete with oinking, I waited for Finn to make his next face. Instead, I felt pressure from his hands on my waist as he spun me gracefully into a twirl. Before I could even gain my footing, I landed back in his arms and his right foot pushed me into the next step. I could feel the rhythm of the music pumping through my veins and my left foot responded by sliding outward. He pulled me along as he tilted our bodies in a different angle to complete the waltz.

The steps came naturally to me, as did following his lead. We twirled across the floor. All my muscles loosened, finally free of their rigid confine. But I caught the stares from some of the children watching us and I abruptly froze. Finn crashed into me.

He squinted in question. I didn’t like his accusatory look. I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled his face to mine. Our lips connected and this time, we took the funny faces private as he displayed the same tongue-waggling technique inside my mouth. His hands trailed up my back until they came to rest on either side of my face. He cupped my chin, and I dissolved right there. Screw dancing, I found something better.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I broke away from Finn, leaving him momentarily stunned. His eyes widened, and I spun around to face the DJ.

“I’m sorry, I have to ask you to take this outside. This is inappropriate.” He pointed at the
17 and under
sign emblazoned on the wall.

My cheeks flamed, but Finn nodded and grabbed my hand. As we walked out of the room, I kept my head down.

Once outside, the door safely shut behind us, Finn burst out laughing. “We got kicked out of the teen disco!” He leaned his head against the wood panel wall and pulled me next to him.

All the embarrassment I’d been feeling evaporated with his raspy laugh. If my cell phone worked overseas, I would text Denise right then. I couldn’t tell her about the talent show or the mini-waltz, she’d be disappointed in me that I didn’t try; that I gave up too soon, but she would appreciate the banned-kissing was a story. “What are we going to do now?”
Translation: more kissing please?

“Hmm,” he said, studying me. I could tell by his amused expression he was thinking the same thing. “How could we possibly kill some time?” He pointed to the auditorium. Muffled through the wooden doors, I could hear the sounds of cheesy, Broadway music with lots of vibrato and sweeping trails. “Hang out with our parents?”

“Tempting, but—”

“Hey, what’s that?” Finn peeled himself away from the door and headed toward a sign posted next to the auditorium. My lips tingled from the cold air. “Nice! Newlywed show tomorrow. We should totally pretend to be newlyweds, Mrs. Cruise.”

“If we can’t pass for eighteen, how can we possibly fake being married?”

“That’s all part of the fun, cutie.” He kissed me on the cheek. “It’ll be hilarious.”

And that was the magic word, the one thing I was better than Lara at.

Displaying 3 out of 10 comments

Ali
said…

The one thing you’re better than Lara at is FAILING.

Crista
said…

And betraying people.

Lonnie
said…

Good one, Ali! Too bad you can’t make a career out of kicking people when they’re done, because you’re excellent at it!

WHEN I ARRIVED AT my locker on Friday morning, a crowd greeted me. I knew my classmates enjoyed gawking at me, but ogling a slab of red metal seemed to be taking things to extremes.

“Excuse me,” I said, sticking an arm out to separate two people so I could slip between them. Once I weaved my way through the inner layer of onlookers, I found Lonnie at the center of it all. He wore ivory plastic gloves like the kind the school nurse used, making him look a little too domestic for seven A.M. A bucket of soapy water rested at his feet and a sponge dripped from his fingers.

“Move along.” He flicked water at the crowd. “Nothing to see here.”

No one budged, they only whispered.

He pointed the sponge at me. “That means you, Kasey.”

“That’s my locker.” I tried to dodge around him, but he had his back pressed against the door.

“Seriously.” He leaned down, speaking in a low voice. “Come back after first period. You don’t want to see this.”