Prom Queen, The (Life at Kingston High Book #3) (15 page)

“What was that about?” Lishia asked as she joined Megan at the table.

“I just told Dayton I can’t go to prom with him,” she muttered.

“Why?” Lishia looked shocked. “Who are you going to go with now?”

Megan explained that Jack had asked her.

“Oh . . .” Lishia frowned. “I mean, Jack’s nice and all. But it seems a little harsh to blow off Dayton like that.”

Megan just shrugged.

“Especially if you’re still serious about prom queen.”

Megan felt a lump in her throat. “Maybe I’m not.”

“You’re
not
?” Lishia’s eyes grew wide. “After all the work we’ve put into this thing? You’re not serious anymore? What is up with you anyway?”

“Remember what happened to you last winter?”

Lishia gave her a dismal look, like this was a topic she didn’t want to discuss. “You mean with cheerleading and Riley?”

“Yeah. I know you don’t really like talking about it. But maybe this is a little like that.”

Lishia gave her a knowing look. “I kinda wondered, but I didn’t want to say anything, Megan. Especially after you were so supportive of me when I went through all that. What’s up?”

Megan felt the lump in her throat getting bigger and tighter. “I’ve just done it all wrong.”

“Did you lie or break the rules or something?” Lishia asked with genuine concern.

“No . . . not anything exactly like that. It’s just that I realized something last night. I haven’t been acting like a Christian. I haven’t even been praying. It’s like I turned my back on God.”

Lishia nodded. “Janelle was wondering about that very thing.”

“She said that?”

Lishia sighed. “You know Janelle. She calls it like she sees it.”

“Well, she was right. It’s like I fell for that whole
Shower of Power
crud, like I could think it and have it . . . believe it and receive it . . . but I left God completely out of the equation.”

“Not good.”

“I know, but what do I do now?” Megan felt tears coming now.

“What do you want to do?”

“I want out of this.”

“The campaign?”

Megan nodded. She felt like a drowning victim reaching out for a life preserver. “How do I put the brakes on this?”

Before Lishia could answer—if she even had an answer—a small swarm of girls came over to Megan’s table. They were all eating Amanda’s muffins, which looked temptingly delicious.

“Just because we were at Amanda’s table doesn’t mean we’re voting for her,” Molly Green told Megan in a conspirator’s tone. “We were just there for the muffins. We really plan to vote for you.”

“That’s right,” Shanda Bancroft added. “We think it’s so cool that you did that fundraiser last night.”

“And it’s even more cool that you’re not part of the snooty club,” another girl said. “We really don’t want Amanda or Hallie to win. We’re telling our friends to vote for you, Megan.”

Molly peered curiously at Megan. “Is something wrong? Have you been crying?”

That was all it took to get the tears flowing.

“She’s had a bad morning,” Lishia explained. “She just told Dayton Moore that she won’t go to prom with him.”

Molly let out a whoop. “Good for you!”

Suddenly the other girls were giving Megan high fives, slapping her on the back, congratulating her for having good sense, and even hugging her. Megan didn’t know how to react, so she simply thanked them. Maybe she’d been wrong about today. Maybe it wasn’t going to be all bad after all. Who knew she had so many supporters?

“Hang in there,” Lishia told Megan as they packed up the campaign things together. “With the fundraiser behind us, it
will get easier. Don’t give up on prom queen just yet. Maybe there’s more at stake than we know.”

Megan nodded, but she wasn’t so sure. However, she did know that she had to deal with some things. Not only did she need to get her heart right with God again, but she needed to make things right with her friends too. Even though Lishia was being extra kind, there was still Chelsea . . . and Janelle . . . and poor Zoë . . . and what about Dayton? And that was probably just for starters. As Megan walked to her first class, she knew she had her work cut out for her today.

A
s badly as Megan wanted to make things right with God and everyone, all she could manage was to stumble through her morning classes. By lunchtime, she’d made up her mind about a number of things. To begin with, she was finished with her stupid prom queen diet. Now that she really thought about it, that was probably a big part of her problem right from the get-go. A lack of nourishment had affected her brain. No wonder she was so messed up. Well, that and
Shower of Power
. She had to give Pastor Robbie some credit too. But her situation was about to change. Her mind was made up, and she had an escape plan of sorts. Now if only she could carry it out.

As she hurried to the cafeteria she had just two things in mind: a cheeseburger and fries. After that—and after her brain started to operate normally again—she would sincerely and profusely apologize to her three best friends. She would thank them for their help and support. She would commend
all of them for their brilliant work on the fundraiser. Then she would announce that she was giving up her race for the crown. Tada!

“What’re you doing?” Lishia demanded when she overheard Megan ordering a cheeseburger basket from the lunch lady.

“Having lunch.” Megan frowned.

“What about your diet?” Lishia hissed at her, like this was some state secret that no one should be privy to.

Megan shrugged. “I’m done with it.”

Lishia looked confused. “What about your prom dress?”

Megan shrugged again.

Now Lishia looked dismayed. “You’re not giving up, are you?”

Megan shrugged for the third time as she placed the cheeseburger basket on her tray, making her way to the soda machine, where she began filling a cup with regular Coke.

Lishia didn’t say anything as they joined Chelsea and Janelle at their regular table. Nor did Chelsea and Janelle . . . at first. Then, just as Megan was biting into what smelled like the world’s greatest cheeseburger, Janelle pointed at her. “What are you doing with that?”

“Eating.” Megan proceeded to take a big bite, slowly chewing, enjoying every fatty, juicy, cheesy, salty bite.

“What about the diet?” Chelsea asked cautiously. “And fitting into your dress?”

Megan wished she’d never confessed to them that her dress was too tight. What had she been thinking? Anyway, that was all water under the bridge now. She took another big bite before she set the burger down and looked at her friends. “I have something I want to say.”

They waited expectantly.

“First of all, I want to tell you guys that I’m sorry for acting like such a jerk lately. It’s like it all just hit me last night,” she confessed. “How selfish and shallow and stupid I’ve been. This whole prom queen thing”—she picked up a French fry and held it up like evidence—“and this ridiculous diet really messed up my thinking. I want you three to know how truly sorry I am for taking you for granted and treating you the way I did. I haven’t done my fair share of anything.”

“You’ve been pretty busy with your campaign. Plus you have the musical and book club,” Lishia reminded her. “We knew that.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Megan took another hungry bite and continued talking as she chewed. “I’m ashamed at how hard you guys worked on the fundraiser and how I ended up getting all the credit.” She pointed at Chelsea. “I didn’t even acknowledge
you
last night. I should’ve told everyone how much you did to make the whole thing a success. And I didn’t.” Megan felt that lump growing in her throat again, and despite her hunger, she set the burger down.

“Well, it’s a relief that you’re figuring it out,” Janelle said wryly. “About time.”

“Oh, Janelle.” Lishia shook her head.

Megan started to cry again. “I’m so sorry, you guys. I hope you’ll forgive me. Somehow I’m going to make it up to you.”

Chelsea patted Megan’s arm. “Come on. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay,” Janelle snipped.

“Yes, it is,” Lishia defended. “We understand, Megan. You’ve had a lot of stress.”

“No, Janelle is right. It’s not okay,” Megan wiped her
nose on her napkin. “I plan to write a letter to the school paper explaining just how much work you guys put into the fundraiser and how I hogged all the praise and—”

“Not before the election,” Lishia said cautiously.

“I’m dropping out,” Megan told them.

“You can’t,” Lishia protested. She told Chelsea and Janelle about the girls who had gathered around this morning and how excited they were about voting for Megan. “It’s like she’s an everyday girl,” Lishia said. “They can relate to her. And they think it’s time for an ordinary girl to be prom queen.”

“That actually makes sense,” Janelle agreed. “If Megan doesn’t run, it means Amanda’s going to win. And she’s won everything already. Time for a change.”

“But I don’t want to run.” Megan picked up her burger again. “I’m done.”

“What about all the work we’ve invested in you?” Janelle demanded.

“Yeah, we’re part of this decision too,” Lishia insisted. “You can’t just bail on us. We did that fundraiser to help your campaign.”

“And to help the soup kitchen,” Chelsea added. “But I’m with these guys. I think you need to stick to this. Finish it out. Who knows, you might even win.”

“But I don’t want to win. I don’t even care about it anymore.” Megan took another bite. “Can’t you get that?”

Janelle scowled darkly at Megan now. “You know what I think this is?”

“What?” Megan asked as she chewed.

“I think this is just you being selfish again. It’s like you—”

“Selfish?”
Megan stared in disbelief. “I’m willing to look
like a total fool. I apologized to you guys. I’m going to let the whole school know that—”

“Let me finish,” Janelle told her. “You just want out and you don’t care that we all worked hard for you. Or that other girls want you to win. Or anything. Except that now you’ve decided it’s too hard.” She pointed at the half-consumed burger basket. “You’re letting your stomach control your brain.”

Megan pushed the basket away from her. “I am not.”

“You are.” Janelle looked at the others for support. “Did you guys hear her saying she wanted to make it up to us for not helping with the fundraiser?”

They both nodded, and Janelle pointed at Megan. “What if the way you make it up is to run the best campaign you can and beat Amanda and Hallie?”

“But I don’t
want
to.” Megan couldn’t believe it. Here she’d thought this was the end of her troubles, that life might turn back to normal, or something close. Now her friends were demanding she run for prom queen. What was up with that?

“I agree with Janelle,” Chelsea said firmly. “In fact, it would probably be good for you to finish this thing, Megan.”

Megan pointed at Chelsea now. “Why don’t you finish it? You would at least have a real chance. I would campaign for you and—”

“Because I never wanted to run for prom queen and I still don’t.” Chelsea shook her head. “But you did.”

“Not anymore!”

“Fine.” Janelle hit the table with her fist. “You wimped out on the fundraiser and now you can wimp out on this too.”

“Janelle.” Chelsea shook her head.

“You don’t have to be mean,” Lishia said. “Why don’t we give Megan time to reconsider?”

Then, as if Megan wasn’t even there, the three of them argued amongst themselves, going round and round—almost like she’d been doing in her head—until they finally decided to give Megan twenty-four hours to figure it out.

“That way you can pray about it,” Lishia said as she stood to go.

“And sleep on it,” Chelsea added.

“Agreed?” Janelle narrowed her eyes at Megan.

Megan gave her unfinished cheeseburger basket one last look of longing, then slowly nodded. “Okay . . . agreed.” She knew it was the least she could do. She just hoped she could do it.

For the rest of the afternoon, Megan was determined to act like a prom queen candidate. To do this, she needed to be mindful of three rules: one, be kind, even when you don’t feel like it; two, be outgoing and cheerful, even if you don’t like a person; and three, maintain your appearance, even if you could care less what you look like. Unfortunately, she couldn’t do too much about the third thing since she’d dressed carelessly for school. But after lunch she did go to the restroom to brush her hair and put on some lip gloss and mascara, promising herself that tomorrow she would do better.

“Hey,” Hallie seemed pleased to see Megan as she came into the restroom. “I hear you’re quitting the race.”

Megan forced a smile for the sake of the handful of other girls in there. “No, I don’t know where you heard that, but it’s not true.”

“Oh, well, maybe Dayton just assumed you’d drop out after he dumped you this morning.”

Megan blinked. “Dayton dumped me?”

Hallie smiled cattily. “Oh, haven’t you heard?”

“Well, I, uh—”

“I’m so sorry.” Hallie put a hand on Megan’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to break bad news to you.”

“That’s not—”

“You do understand that means he
won’t
be taking you to the prom, don’t you?” Hallie laughed. “Now that would be embarrassing.”

“I know and it’s—”

“My, it must be awkward to still be running for prom queen without even having a date.”

“I do have a date.”

“Well, that was quick.” Hallie’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

Megan didn’t even know how to respond to that.

“No wonder poor Dayton dumped you.” Hallie shook her head. “No one likes a two-timer.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Oh, you don’t have to explain to me. I just feel sorry for Dayton. Poor guy. Maybe I’ll consider going to prom with him after all.” She laughed. “Even if it is a pity date. After all, he’s really a nice guy . . . if you give him a chance.”

Megan just shook her head as the other girls giggled over this. Then, feeling like she’d tucked her tail between her legs, she slipped out of there. That Hallie was smooth . . . smooth with sharp claws, anyway.

By the end of the day, Megan felt completely drained and wondered how she would possibly keep this up. How had Belinda kept it up? How did Amanda and Hallie? As she plodded
toward the auditorium for rehearsal, everything inside of her felt like giving up, and she knew it probably showed in her posture. However, she did not care.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Megan forced her gaze up and saw Zoë staring at her. “Oh, hey.” She forced a weak smile.

Zoë came closer, peering curiously at her. “You look like you’re sick or something.”

Megan let out a long sigh. On one hand, she was relieved that Zoë was even speaking to her. On the other hand, she felt guilty for not keeping up the prom queen facade. “You want the truth?”

“Huh?” Zoë’s brow creased.

“The truth is, I’m sick and tired of running for prom queen.”

Zoë laughed.

“I want to quit, but my friends won’t let me.” Megan shook her head. “I’ve also been wanting to explain about last Saturday and not picking you up for youth group,” she said quickly. “I just had way too much going on. I still do. But I’m really sorry I forgot. I hope you’ll give me another chance.”

Zoë made a half smile. “Sure. Why not?”

“Really?”

Zoë nodded. “Just for the record, I think that fundraiser you did for the soup kitchen was pretty cool.”

“My friends did most of the work,” Megan confessed.

“But it was your idea, right? That’s what the newspaper said.”

“You read that?”

“Yeah. I read the paper sometimes.”

“I know . . . I just meant . . . oh, well.”

“Anyway, I decided it’s cool you’re running for prom queen. And I know a lot of kids feel the same way. Like a regular girl might have a chance, you know?”

“Really?”

Zoë nodded. “I know Amanda puts on the sweet girl act, but believe me, I’ve seen the other side of her a time or two.”

“Seriously?” This surprised Megan. Other than being a little snooty, Amanda had always seemed like one of the nicest girls in her clique.

“Oh, yeah.” Zoë’s eyes narrowed. “She used to pick on me in PE. She’d start in, but then she’d let her friends take over.”

“Really?”

“It was back during sophomore year. She quit as soon as she got nominated for homecoming court—she needed to protect her good girl image. But some of her friends kept it up. Plus Amanda never apologized. And even when she acts nice to me, which she does, I can tell it’s just an act.” Zoë locked eyes with Megan. “At least you’re sincere. Or you seem like it.”

“I am sincere,” Megan said eagerly. “I consider you a friend, Zoë. And I’m sorry I haven’t been a better one to you. I’ll try to improve.”

“Thanks. Anyway, I hope you don’t quit the campaign.”

“I won’t.” Megan stood up straighter. “Thanks for the encouragement. I actually needed it just now.”

As they parted ways, Megan held her head a little higher and reminded herself of the characteristics of a prom queen candidate. Maybe she could do this after all. For Zoë’s sake, she hoped so.