Prom Queen, The (Life at Kingston High Book #3)

© 2013 by Melody Carlson

Published by Revell

a division of Baker Publishing Group

P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287

www.revellbooks.com

Ebook edition created 2013

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

ISBN 978-1-4412-4066-8

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

Scripture quotations are from the New Century Version®. Copyright © 1987, 1988, 1991 by Word Publishing, a division of Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover

Title Page

Copyright Page

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A Note from the Author

About the Author

Books by Melody Carlson

Back Ads

Back Cover

M
egan Bernard didn’t usually tune in to watch television preachers. But when she announced she was too ill to attend church, Mom wasn’t buying.

“You don’t look sick to me.” She barely touched Megan’s forehead, then gave her an ultimatum. “If you can’t make it to church, you can at least watch
Shower of Power
on television. It starts at ten o’clock. If you hurry you won’t miss a thing.”

Megan obediently went down to the basement and turned on the television. As she squirmed into Mom’s hot pink Snuggie blanket, she wondered why her mother wanted her to watch an infomercial about bath products. However, it turned out to be a preacher dude called Pastor Robbie Martin, and although Megan was tempted to change channels on him, she continued to watch. Partly because Pastor Robbie wasn’t too hard on the eyes and partly because she suspected Mom might give her a pop quiz when she got home.

At the beginning of the show, Megan thought this guy’s
sermon was a bunch of hooey, but the more she listened, the more it made sense. Or else her fever was messing with her head and she was becoming delusional.

“Name it and claim it!” he proclaimed with earnest-looking blue eyes. “Don’t be afraid to dream big, dear friends! If you can picture what you desire in your mind and if you can feel it your heart, it
will
become yours. I am a living testimony of this truth!”

Megan pulled out a fresh tissue and loudly blew her nose as she watched Pastor Robbie with growing interest. What if what he said was really true?

“Believe it and receive it!” Pastor Robbie’s bright Colgate smile was dazzling and about three feet wide on their big flat-screen television. “And I promise you, dear friend, you
will be
showered with power! Believe and receive!”

An upbeat gospel song began to play, and Pastor Robbie’s deeply tanned face slowly faded out. Megan sighed as she turned off the TV with the remote. As she sat there, still wrapped in her mom’s frowsy Snuggie, she seriously considered what she’d just heard. What if it were really true? What if she could use positive thinking to get what she wanted? What if she could change her seriously lackluster life?

She thought about how her senior year had gone so far, and two words came to mind: dismal and disappointing. It was nothing like she’d expected. She’d had such high hopes last summer. Senior year was going to be significant and memorable. But so far she would rather just forget it. The school year was more than half over, and she felt helpless to change direction. Like she was stuck in a rut.

Megan pulled out another tissue and wiped her nose
carefully this time since it was feeling a little raw and sore now. Kind of like how she felt inside, because something was definitely hurting. Was it Pastor Robbie’s words that had touched that tender place? Or was this head cold just making her blow things out of proportion? She couldn’t deny that she’d felt a smidgen of hope at his optimistic words. She almost believed she could change the course of her life, yet at the same time she felt confused and clueless.

“What if it is true?” she mused out loud. “Except that it sounds too good to be true.” She sighed. “I wish it was true—”

“Hey, what’re you doing down here? Who are you talking to?” Megan’s older sister Belinda tromped down the stairs with a surprised expression.

“No one.” Megan pushed up the sleeves of the Snuggie. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were on your way back to college.”

“And I thought you’d still be at church.” Belinda frowned. “Hey, why are you home anyway?”

Megan explained about her cold. “Mom and Arianna went without me.” She pointed the remote at the television. “But Mom made me watch
Shower of Power
.”

Belinda laughed. “You mean that cheesy televangelist who’s always saying, ‘Believe it and receive it’?”

Megan nodded. “You’ve seen him?”

“Mom made me watch him when I was here during the holidays. She thinks that guy practically walks on water.” Belinda rolled her eyes. “But really, he’s just a religious dork.”

To Megan’s surprise, she felt like defending Pastor Robbie. Instead she just shrugged, pulling her knees up into the Snuggie. “So . . . why aren’t you on your way back to school
already?” Belinda had been home for the weekend, and her campus was a couple hours away.

“We were just heading out when I remembered something I forgot.” Belinda went over to a closet that was supposed to be reserved for guests but was mostly used for overflow storage for the girls. With four females in the household, closet space was always at a premium. “There’s this big dance in a couple of weeks, and I hoped I might find something in here that I can rework into a cocktail dress.” Belinda started to pull out formals, tossing them onto the sofa until Megan was nearly buried in tulle and satin and lace.

“Remember this one?” Belinda held up a pale pink number with a wistful smile. “It’s a Theia gown.”

Megan pushed a scratchy red dress away from her face as she peered up at the dress. “Was that from prom?”

“Not
just
prom.” Belinda held the dress close to her with a dreamy look. “This dress is from when I was crowned
Kingston High Prom Queen
.” She began to dance and twirl her way around the room now. “What a night, oh, what a night!” She laughed, then tossed the dress onto the growing pile around Megan. “I’d offer it to you to use if I thought there was any chance you’d ever be elected prom queen—or fit into it.” She laughed, then returned to pillaging the closet.

Megan was reminded of all the reasons she hadn’t missed her older sister too much during the past months. Belinda could be sweet at times, but when she was in a bad mood, watch out! Still, Megan knew better than to react.

“Sorry, sis. I shouldn’t have said that.” Belinda held up a black gown. “It’s not fair to tease someone about something they can’t help. It’s kind of like kicking a puppy.”

Megan frowned. “What can’t I help?”

Belinda tossed the black dress down. “You know, never competing for prom queen. It’s not your fault you can’t—”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Megan’s hurt feelings were replaced with anger now.

“You know what it means. And it’s okay, really. Not everyone can be prom queen. It’s kind of like a calling . . . or a gift. A gift that only a few lucky girls can handle.” She laughed like she thought this was clever.

“I could be prom queen if I wanted.”

Belinda laughed even louder now. “Yeah, right!”

Megan stood. Still wearing Mom’s hot pink Snuggie, she went over to where Belinda was holding up a red sequined dress. “It’s just that I don’t want to,” Megan declared.

Belinda tossed her a sugar-coated sympathy nod. “Yeah, sure, I understand, sweetie.”

“I don’t!” Megan glared at her. “I have absolutely no interest in being prom queen. I think it’s totally ridiculous.”

“It’s okay, Meggie. That’s what all the girls say—the girls who know they don’t have a chance. It’s just a case of sour grapes . . . It’s easier that way. I understand.”

Megan attempted to blow angry air through her stuffy nostrils, but it sounded more like a sneeze. “I
could
be prom queen, Belinda! That is, if I wanted it bad enough. It’s just that I don’t.”

Belinda firmly shook her head. “Wanting it isn’t enough, Megan. You have to be
popular
to be prom queen.”

“I am popular.” Megan frowned and rethought this. “Anyway, I used to be popular.”

“Middle school doesn’t count, sis.” Belinda reached over
and patted Megan’s head in a placating way. Then she jerked her hand back and made a disgusted expression. “Eeeuw! Someone needs a good shampoo.”

“I’m sick!” Megan spewed back at her.

“Then get away from me.” Belinda held her hands up like a blockade. “I don’t want your sick germs.”

Stepping back, Megan tripped on the hem of the Snuggie, then tumbled backward, landing in the pile of formals, which sent Belinda into new spasms of laughter. But at least she stepped over and offered a hand.

“Poor Meggie,” Belinda said as she pulled Megan up. “I know it can’t be easy being you. I’m sorry.”

Megan flopped back onto the dress-splattered sofa and groaned. “And it’s so easy being you?”

Belinda gave her a somber look. “The truth is, it’s not nearly as easy as it used to be. You know, Meggie, sometimes I wish I was still back in high school. Life was so much easier then.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Megan felt her hopes being dashed again. She’d been looking forward to going to college next year, telling herself that it would be better than this year. “You wish you were still in high school?”

“At least I was
somebody
in high school.” Belinda pressed her lips together as she sat down. “The truth is . . . I sometimes feel completely lost in college.”

Megan tried not to look too surprised, but she was shocked. She’d never heard her “perfect” older sister confess to any sort of hardship in any part of her life. To Megan, Belinda’s life was just one great big walk in the park. The worst thing she’d ever witnessed going wrong for Belinda was her getting a small zit before a big date. Then she’d cleverly conceal it
with one of her magical beauty products. Even when Alex Bronson “broke her heart,” Belinda managed to find a new and improved boyfriend the very next day.

“Take it from me, you really should make the most of your last year of high school.” Belinda picked up a previously discarded lacy, cream-colored dress from the floor, looking at it more carefully. “Because once it’s gone, it’s gone. You can’t go back and do it all over again.” She made a little smile. “Although I still have high school dreams occasionally. Very sweet.”

“I dream about getting
out
of high school,” Megan admitted.

Belinda just shook her head. “Too bad for you.” She held up the cream dress. “What about this for the Sweetheart’s Ball? If I shortened it and added a wide red belt and matching heels? Ya think?”

Megan nodded. “Yeah, that’d probably look great.”

“Thanks, sis.” Belinda smiled. “I really do wish you had what it takes to be prom queen, sweetie. Seriously, I’d do anything to help you with a campaign. It would be very cool to keep the crown in the family. But trust me, some battles are best left unfought. Really, I do understand.”

Megan forced a smile. “Yeah . . .”

“Gotta go. Celeste is waiting. Tell Mom and Ari bye for me, okay?”

Megan watched as Belinda skipped up the stairs with the cream dress flying behind her like a cape—like she was Supergirl. Maybe she was. Megan peeled off the fuzzy Snuggie, which felt way too warm now. Then she started picking up the dresses Belinda had left strewn about. But instead of
hanging them up, Megan simply shoved them into the already crowded closet. Until she came to the last one, the pale pink prom queen formal.

Fingering the silky fabric, she studied the delicately stitched bodice with embroidery and tiny glass beads. Very princess-like. Maybe it wasn’t her style exactly, but she wondered what it would feel like to wear something this pretty. Carrying it over to the bathroom, she held it up in front of the mirror above the sink, expecting to see a princess. But when she saw her reflection, she cringed in dismay.

With her dull and greasy brown hair, a cluster of zits that strangely resembled Orion’s Belt on her chin, pale chapped lips, and bloodshot eyes in a washed-out shade of blue, she knew her sister was absolutely right—Megan was definitely not prom queen material. Not now, not a few weeks from now, not ever!

“See yourself as the person you want to be!” Pastor Robbie’s enthusiastic words echoed in her mind. “Believe you can and
you can
. You can do anything you put your mind to—just put your mind to it and do it!”

Megan thought hard about that. What if Pastor Robbie was right? What if she was simply the victim of her own negative thinking? He’d talked a lot about the wall of rejection. What if she’d created that big nasty wall around herself and it was keeping the bad things in and the good things out? What if he was right?

Megan hadn’t been happy with her life for a while now. But what had she done to change anything? Most of the time she acted like she didn’t care. The problem was, she did care. She didn’t like feeling like a loser. What if she took Pastor
Robbie’s advice and changed her thinking, and what if that really did change her life? What was stopping her? What if it was simply her own doubt and disbelief keeping her from having all the things she deserved? Anyway, how would she know if she didn’t at least try?

In that very instant, Megan decided it was time to change the course of her life. She closed her eyes and took in several slow, deep breaths, and standing right there in the basement bathroom, she waited—as if she expected something amazing to happen. When nothing did, she began to replay some of Pastor Robbie’s words, and she attempted to erase the defeated image she’d just seen in the badly lit bathroom mirror. She tried to envision herself differently. For inspiration, she thought about her sister. She imagined herself in the same way she saw Belinda—beautiful, confident, upbeat, lively, fun, popular, stylish.

Yet Megan knew it was impossible. She could
never
be like that—it just wasn’t how she was made. She might as well give up right now and accept her life for what it was—boring, ordinary, dreary, blah. And she was ready to do just that, except that Pastor Robbie’s words kept coming at her, pushing her, encouraging her, telling her she could do more, be more, have more. “Don’t settle for less than your very best, dear friend. Just do your best and let God do the rest!”

With eyes still tightly closed, Megan called on every fiber of her being to become her best—to do her best. In the same way she’d focus her energy on acing a test, she told herself that she
could
do this! Summoning every last bit of her mental and creative energy, she tried again to envision herself as this fairy-tale person—lovely and capable, witty and smart, pretty
and popular. Suddenly something happened—something seemed to click inside of her. It felt almost like a miracle or like a scene from a movie, because she suddenly saw herself in a whole new light.