Prom Queen, The (Life at Kingston High Book #3) (12 page)

But after rehearsal on Friday, she was feeling fed up. Not only did Jack refuse her offer of a ride home, but he chose to ride with Clarisa and Saundra instead. Trying not to appear ruffled by this, Megan simply smiled and went her way. But as she walked to the parking lot, she was still stewing.

“Hey, Megan.”

Megan was surprised to see Zoë standing by the bus stop. “Hey, Zoë.” She smiled and went over to chat. “How’s it going?”

“Okay.” Zoë nodded as she lit up a cigarette. “I managed to lose the loser.”

“Good for you.” Megan pointed to the bus stop sign. “Riding the bus home?”

“Yeah. I’d ride the activities bus, but that’s so lame.” She blew out a long, slow puff. “Besides, they don’t let you smoke.”

“I’d offer you a ride, except that I’m really not supposed to let people smoke in my car either.”

Zoë looked surprised. “You should’ve told me that last time.”

“Well, you were kinda upset and all.”

“Still, I can respect that.” She dropped her cigarette to the pavement and squashed it out with the heel of her boot. “That offer still good?”

“Sure.”

As Megan drove Zoë home, Zoë asked how Megan’s campaign for prom queen was going. “So far it looks like you’re running unopposed.”

Megan laughed. “I know. I’m actually pretty surprised that Hallie and Amanda are putting off their campaign like this.” She sighed. “Except that they probably don’t see me as real competition.”

“I honestly don’t get why you want to do that. I mean run for
prom queen
.” Her voice was full of disgust.

Megan prepared herself for another one of those you’re-not-like-that discussions. Perhaps even a lecture. The thanks she got for giving someone a free ride.

“I mean, seriously, it’s so provincial.”

“Provincial?” Megan knew the meaning of the word, but she was caught off guard.

“You know . . . old-fashioned and socially backwards. I’m sorry, but I think it ranks right down there with things like beauty contests. I would rather die than be involved in something like that.”

“Seriously, you’d rather die?” Megan frowned.

“Well, not actually. But it would be so humiliating. I just don’t see why you would want that.”

“You’re pretty judgmental.”

“I have my opinions.”

Megan considered her response. “You know, the truth is, I used to think that exact same thing. When my older sister ran for prom queen, I teased her mercilessly.”

“Your sister ran for prom queen?”

Again, Megan was irritated. Didn’t anyone pay attention to these things? “She ran and she won.”

“Oh. So it’s some kind of twisted family honor thing?”

“No.” Megan thought hard. What difference would it make if she told Zoë the truth? Who would Zoë tell? She already thought Megan was ridiculous for doing this. How much more ridiculous would she sound if she told her about Pastor Robbie and the
Shower of Power
? So that’s just what she did.

Naturally, Zoë laughed.

“I know, it sounds pretty silly,” Megan admitted. “But I needed something to sort of jump-start me. It was like I was stuck in this lackluster life and I couldn’t get out.”

“I guess I kind of get that.”

“I believe God wants the best for me, but I have to cooperate.”

“You think the best for you is getting elected prom queen?” The disdain was back in Zoë’s voice now.

“I’m not sure. But there are some interesting things that come with it.” Megan told her about the fundraiser now. “The soup kitchen is a good cause, but we never would’ve thought of it if I hadn’t decided to do this.” She felt a little guilty since her friends were the ones really carrying this now, although she did plan to help with some preparations this weekend and then at the actual event.

“Well, that’s cool.”

Megan pulled up by Zoë’s house. “It’s also made me more friendly,” she confessed. “It’s gotten me out of my shell. Like I’m willing to make a fool of myself . . . sort of. Really, I think lots of good things will come out of it. Even if it is provincial.”

“I’m sorry.” Zoë gave her an apologetic smile. “I guess I was jumping to conclusions. I’ll try to be more open-minded.”

“Thanks.”

“And thanks for the ride. Beats the bus.”

“Hey, Zoë . . .” Megan said before she closed the door. “Would you ever want to go to youth group? I mean, you used to go. There are some pretty cool kids there. And the music is good. Would you—”

“Sure.” Zoë nodded. “Why not?”

Megan tried to mask her surprise. “Cool. How about if I pick you up?”

“Okay. I assume it’s same time and same place as it’s always been?”

Megan nodded, but she could hear her phone ringing. “That might be my little sister,” she said. “I better get it.”

“See ya!” Zoë closed the door, then waved.

“Hey, Megan.” It was Dayton.

“Hey, Dayton. What’s up?”

“What’s up is that you promised to think about it. Remember?” He sounded hopeful.

She closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat, trying to think of a graceful way to get out of this. “That’s right. I almost forgot.”

“Anyway, I just checked the movies and there’s a new Brad Pitt flick playing, and I had to ask myself, what chick doesn’t like Brad Pitt?”

“Oh, yeah . . . I did sort of want to see that.” She’d actually read the review and was eager to see it, but she was still unsure. Going out with Dayton?

“So whaddya say? Wanna give it a shot? I promise to be on my best behavior, and if you have a lousy time, you never have to go out with me again. Okay?”

“But will we still be friends?”

He laughed. “I hope so.”

She remembered Chelsea’s encouragement about Dayton now. And of all her friends, Chelsea seemed to have the most common sense. “Okay. It’s a date.”

“Cool. How about I pick you up around seven?”

“Sounds good.”

As she drove home, she was assaulted with doubts. Really, what was she doing? Everyone knew that Dayton had a reputation for going through girls like Kleenex. Yet they’d been having such a good time being friends. And he was even
promising to be on his best behavior. It was possible that she was actually a good influence on him. And perhaps she’d been misjudging him. Maybe it was similar to how Zoë had misjudged Megan earlier. That had felt unfair. And didn’t everyone deserve a second chance?

A
s it turned out, the movie was a disappointment, but Dayton, true to his promise so far, had been a gentleman. “I had a good time,” she told him as he drove her home.

“Me too.”

Now Megan was getting uncomfortable. The whole ending the date by walking to the front door part was worrying her. For some reason she wasn’t expecting Dayton to just drop her off in the driveway and take off. Especially after he’d politely opened doors for her all evening. Who knew the guy had such good manners? But if he did walk her to the door, would he expect a goodnight kiss? If so, would she go along with it? If she did go along with it, would that mean that she was really interested in him? And if not, would she be sending him the wrong message?

All these questions tumbled through her mind as he turned
off his engine in front of her house. “Thanks for going out with me, Megan.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I really did have fun.”

“Enough fun to try it again?”

She shrugged, then smiled. “Maybe.”

“This whole hard-to-get thing really works, doesn’t it?”

“Huh?” She peered at him in the dim light.

He grinned. “You know, keeping me at arm’s length and acting uninterested. It really works.”

“It’s not an act, Dayton. I’m honestly not sure I want to get, uh, really involved. You know?”

He looked disappointed now.

“Just trying to be honest,” she confessed.

“Yeah . . . I get that.” He hopped out of the car now, hurrying over to her side to open the door for her.

“You have really nice manners,” she told him as he walked her to the door. “I like that.”

“My dad kinda trained me to be like that. It seems like girls appreciate all that stuff.”

She stopped on her front step and stuck out her hand for a handshake. She knew it was a corny gesture, but it was the best she could come up with. He looked surprised, then grasped her hand and pulled her close to him, bending down as if he was going to kiss her on the mouth. But he kissed her forehead instead.

She tried not to look too surprised as he released her.

“See, I can play hard to get too.”

She laughed.

“So, tell me, Miss Hard-to-Get, since you’re without a boyfriend, who is taking you to prom anyway? I mean, you
are running for prom queen, aren’t you? Isn’t a prom queen supposed to have a king by her side, even if they aren’t actually elected like the girls are?”

She frowned. She knew she should be flattered. Lots of girls would be thrilled to have Dayton Moore take them to prom. But this just wasn’t how she’d planned it.

“Or maybe you’ve had other offers?”

“No . . .” She forced a smile. “No other offers.”

“Well, I want to go to prom. And I sure don’t want to take Hallie, although she’s been hinting.”

“Why did you guys break up anyway?”

He rolled his eyes. “She’s way too clingy.”

Megan laughed. “Someone should teach her to play hard to get.”

He nodded.

She glanced at the front door. Chances were Arianna was peeking through the peephole right now. “Anyway, it would probably be fun to go to prom with you.”

“Yeah,” he said eagerly. “We could have a good time. Who knows, you might even be crowned queen.”

“Really? You think so?”

“I think you have a good chance. Especially since Hallie and Amanda don’t even seem to be campaigning.”

“They will.”

“I’ve always kind of thought I’d make a good prom king.” He grinned and stood tall. “You know, the kings are actually elected in some schools. I guess we’re a little behind the times at Kingston.”

She studied him for a moment. No doubt, he was good king material. She probably couldn’t do any better. He
was already friendly with everyone in school, and thanks to sports, he had lots of fans. It could only be helpful to her campaign if everyone thought she and Dayton were a couple.

“Okay.” She stuck out her hand again. “If you really want to take me to prom, I’d like to go with you.”

His brows arched. “Cool.”

“But . . . if you don’t mind . . . I still want to take this relationship slowly, okay?” She peered hopefully up at him. He almost looked amused, like this was some kind of cat and mouse game. Maybe it was.

On Saturday morning, Megan dressed carefully before she went to Starbucks, where the prom committee was meeting. Of course, she felt like a misfit with these girls, and she could tell they felt the same about her. But she tried to fit in. She tried to be helpful. She even mentioned a couple of things that Belinda had told her, trying to sound like she was a prom expert. In the end, she wound up being assigned the cleanup committee.

“We wouldn’t need to clean up,” Hallie said in a grumpy tone, “if we could afford to rent a ballroom like they used to do.”

“We’ve already been over that,” Amanda told her. “The administration has put a ceiling on ticket prices so that all kids will feel welcome at prom. We have to use the gym.”

“Which makes decorations seriously challenging,” the head of the decorating committee complained.

“I could help with that,” Megan offered.

“As well as heading up the cleanup crew?” Amanda’s brows arched.

“Well . . . I actually meant instead of cleanup.”

“Forget it,” Hallie told her. “Cleanup is the only committee we’re missing now.”

“Sorry.” Amanda gave Megan a politely sympathetic smile. “But you did come to the party late, you know.”

“I guess it’s only fair.” Megan forced cheer into her voice for Amanda’s sake.

“Every job is important,” Amanda assured her.

Hallie laughed. “Yeah . . . and good luck on the restrooms.”

“The restrooms?” Megan was shocked. “Won’t the school custodians take care of that?”

“Yes,” Amanda told her. “Hallie’s just jerking your chain.”

By the time Megan made it over to Chelsea’s to help, as promised, with getting some things ready for next week’s benefit, she was feeling worn out. She knew this was due as much to her lack of food as to her busy schedule. She tried to act like she was holding up just fine. She tried to be cheerful and helpful and positive, but it felt like such an act. Finally, when she had to excuse herself while they were still working on posters, her friends questioned her.

“First you come late,” Janelle pointed out. “Then you leave early?”

“I’m sorry,” she told them again. “I’m hosting book club at my house tonight and I still have to go to the store for some snacks and stuff. I promised the girls.”

“Book club tonight?” Lishia questioned. “What about youth group?”

“I know . . . I know . . .” Megan looped the handle of her
bag over her shoulder. “I wasn’t thinking too clearly when I agreed to it. But after blowing book club off last week, I felt I owed them this.”

“Seems like you’re ending up owing a lot of people a lot of things,” Janelle said in a snippy tone. “Not to mention your real friends.”

Megan tried not to show her irritation over this. After all, a prom queen was gracious. Still, it seemed like Janelle had been on her all afternoon. And even though Lishia and Chelsea seemed happy for Megan for finally securing a date for prom, Janelle had been a wet blanket, acting like Dayton would only be interested in one thing after prom was over.

As Megan wheeled a cart through the grocery store, she tried not to be angry at Janelle. In a way, Janelle was simply expressing Megan’s own worst doubts. On the other hand, doubts and naysayers would not earn her the crown. Still, as she loaded a package of chocolate mint cookies into the cart, she wondered if she cared as much about being prom queen as she had a few weeks ago. If she’d known then what a long ordeal it would be, would she still have gone for it? Of course, it was too late to back out now.

Holding her head higher and reminding herself of how a prom queen walks, Megan stopped shuffling her feet down the junk food aisle. Really, she decided as she put a large bottle of soda in the cart, she was on top of her game. Already a solid week into her campaign, she was gaining support and momentum with each day. She had a date for prom who was both popular and attractive. The fundraiser was just days away—and from the looks of things, and thanks to her friends, this event was sure to be a success.

Another success turned out to be her book club that night. Whether it was due to having it at her house or the refreshments or the fact that Megan pretended to have read and enjoyed the book, all the girls seemed to have a really good time. They stayed late.

As they were gathering their stuff to leave, they thanked her and even offered to help her with her campaign. She explained about the fundraiser and how they could still use some extra hands following the dinner and auction. “You know, it’s for a really good cause,” she assured them. “The soup kitchen downtown will benefit.”

The book club agreed to be the cleanup crew. Not only did it get Megan off that particular hook, but she thought her friends would be pleased at her ability to recruit help like that. She waved goodbye and closed the door, letting out an exhausted sigh of relief. That was over.

As she began to clean the living room where they’d met, she commended herself for her good discipline during book club. Carefully avoiding the calorie-laden snacks, she’d simply sipped her Diet Coke and munched celery sticks. She was just about to pour the leftover cookies into the bag when her resolve and self-control completely dissolved. She was so hungry!

Almost unconsciously, she polished off the rest of the cookies. Then she laid into the chips and the Peanut M&M’s and everything that remained behind. Feeling foolish and frustrated, she went to bed with a stomachache and very low self-esteem. She promised herself she would do better tomorrow.

Megan felt exhausted after church, as if she’d run a race and could barely put one foot in front of the other. All she wanted to do was to go home and sleep for the rest of the day. But she’d promised Lishia that she’d help glaze bowls today. So instead of looking forward to a long afternoon nap, she was driving Lishia and herself toward school, where the art room would be opened up for several hours so that volunteers could finish the last of the soup bowls. Hopefully a bunch of people would be there, and perhaps Megan could even slip out unnoticed.

“I don’t see many cars here,” she told Lishia as they parked by the back entrance to the art room. Mrs. Steiner was just unlocking the door.

“Hello, girls,” she called as she disarmed the security alarm. “Come on in.”

“I guess we’re the first ones here,” Lishia said as they went inside.

“Or the only ones.” Megan set her bag on a table.

“Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us today.” Mrs. Steiner turned on the lights in the pottery room, revealing stacks of more soup bowls. “I think there are about seventy or so to do.”

“Let’s attack.” Lishia pulled on a paint-splattered shirt. “That’s more than twenty each. It usually takes a good five minutes or longer to do one.”

Megan frowned up at the clock, doing the math in her head. “That means, with just us, we’ll be here a couple hours.”

“At least.”

As it turned out, they were there nearly three hours, and by the time Megan got home, it was close to five. She still had homework, but all she wanted to do was sleep . . . and eat.

As motivation for continuing on her diet and not giving in to her hunger pangs, she forced herself to try on the prom dress again. She tugged it on but still couldn’t get the zipper up. Now prom was less than two weeks off. What if she
never
fit into this dress? Then she remembered Mom’s Spanx. Worst case scenario, she’d resort to that. And really, two weeks was long enough to lose five pounds. “Think positively,” she told herself as she peeled off the dress.

“Want to eat with us tonight?” Mom called into her room. “I put a frozen lasagna in the oven, and it’ll be done around six.”

“No thanks,” Megan answered as she hung the pretty garment back in the closet.

“Megan?” Mom came into her room as Megan was pulling on sweats.

“Uh-huh?” Megan slumped down into her desk chair and heaved a weary sigh.

“Are you still doing that crazy diet?” Mom peered down at her with a concerned expression.