Prom Queen, The (Life at Kingston High Book #3) (9 page)

“Just make sure you don’t wear your holey undies,” Janelle teased.

Megan laughed. “Can you imagine being crowned prom queen in your underwear? Sounds like a bad dream. But if I’m worried about not having a dress yet, I suppose I should be even more worried about not having a date. At least I’m not the only one.” She nudged Lishia with her elbow.

“Didn’t you tell Megan?” Janelle asked from the backseat.

“Tell me what?”

“I’m going to prom with Anders,” Lishia said. “I thought I already told you.”

“Anders from art?”

“Yeah.” Lishia giggled. “He’s been helping me with the bowl project, and I explained about how it all started when you decided to run for prom queen, then I confessed that I didn’t even have a date for the prom . . . like hint, hint . . . and the next thing I knew he was asking me to go with him. Can you believe it?”

“That’s great news.” Megan tried to sound more enthused than she felt. “Everyone has a date now . . . except for me.”

“You’d better work on that,” Janelle told her. “Chase told me that guys need to be reserving their tuxes at least two weeks before prom. And they get better choices if they reserve them earlier.”

“Nicholas is using an old tux from the sixties,” Chelsea told them. “I guess his mom found it on eBay or somewhere, but it sounds pretty cool.”

Megan tried not to be jealous, but by the time they were trying on shoes, she felt pea green with envy. Not only did her friends have dates and dresses, but by the end of the evening, they had very cool shoes too.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get those silver shoes?” Chelsea asked Megan as they were waiting in line. “They’d go with almost anything, and I think they’d look great with raspberry.”

“I don’t know.” Megan frowned. “I need to hear what Belinda has to say.” The truth was, Megan felt completely
confused now. She had no idea what kind of dress she would be wearing or what kind of shoes would go with it. By the time she got home, she was actually beginning to doubt the whole thing. Maybe her silly dream of becoming prom queen was just that—a silly dream!

W
hat do you mean you’re not going with us?” Lishia demanded on the phone Saturday morning. “We’re doing this fundraiser for you, Megan. Volunteering at the soup kitchen was supposed to be part of the plan. Besides that, we were going to tell Bertie and the others about it today. Don’t you want to make that announcement?”

Megan switched her recently replaced cell phone to the other ear. “I can’t, Lishia. Belinda is coming home today—she already told me it was inconvenient and she’s coming just to help me. I can’t take off and not even be here.”

“Whatever.” Her tone was full of exasperation. “Although I don’t see how you can feel very good about calling this
your
fundraiser. It seems like everyone else is working on it except you.”

“It was
my
idea,” Megan protested.

“Actually the Stone Soup Silent Auction was Chelsea’s idea.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know . . . I gotta go.”

Megan felt guilty as she closed her phone. But it was true. Belinda
was
coming to help her today, although she hadn’t said what time she’d actually get here. But besides that, Megan had asked Arianna and Olivia to start making the campaign buttons today. She needed to be around to keep them on task as well as to order them pizza and things.

Megan’s plan was to hang posters and start handing out buttons first thing on Monday. That was the official start of the prom queen campaign, and she planned to make the most of every moment before the election. That meant she had this weekend to get everything ready. She also needed to find the perfect gown, and maybe the shoes and accessories as well. She was determined not to let this weekend pass without bagging that dress. She knew that Belinda would back her in this pursuit.

However, as Megan sat by herself in the kitchen, tediously cutting out dozens of button-sized circles with her name and slogan printed on them, she could feel her enthusiasm waning. If there was a way to bow out of this thing gracefully, she would probably seriously consider it. But how could she put on the brakes without looking totally foolish to her friends and family? And what about all she’d invested already? She set another paper circle in the basket and sighed. No, she needed to see this through to completion. And perhaps when that moment came—when the crown was placed upon her head—she would be grateful for the sacrifices she had made in order to gain it.

“The official campaign starts on Monday,” she told Belinda when she arrived in midafternoon. “There’s a lot to get done in a short amount of time.” This time Megan was careful not to complain about Belinda’s lateness, but she realized she could’ve gone to the soup kitchen after all. She wondered if she hadn’t really been using Belinda as an excuse, just because it had been so uncomfortable the last time. But these were thoughts she shoved down deep . . . along with all the other naysayers’ doubts.

“Believe me, I know.” Belinda slumped down onto her bed with a sigh. “But first of all I need a little nap. Okay?”

Megan blinked. “A nap?”

“I had a late night last night. And college is hard, Megan. Weekends are my only chance to catch up on my beauty sleep.”

“But what about—”

“Trust me, I’ll be much more useful to you
after
I get some shut-eye.” Belinda held a forefinger to her lips. “Just twenty minutes or so.”

Twenty minutes turned into two hours. However, Megan managed to stay busy by working with Arianna and Olivia. Still, making buttons and flyers and posters was feeling tedious, and by five o’clock, shortly before Belinda woke up, the girls were demanding pizza and videos again.

“Get enough for me too,” Belinda called as Megan was leaving. “But we’d better not catch you sneaking any, Megan.”

Well, Megan did sneak some as she drove home. She couldn’t help herself—she was starving. She tried to rearrange the pizza so it wouldn’t show, but Belinda wasn’t fooled.

“Do you or do you not want to become prom queen?” she
demanded as she took a large piece, wrapping the cheese around her finger.

“I do. And I’ve been really good on the diet too.” Megan went to get a diet soda. “I just couldn’t bear smelling that pepperoni.”

“Well, get down on the floor and do some push-ups and sit-ups. About fifty of each. That should help.”

The last thing Megan wanted to do was push-ups and sit-ups, especially while everyone else was snarfing down pizza. But she could tell that Belinda wasn’t kidding, so she complied. Or at least pretended to.

“Now it’s time to do some serious dress shopping,” Belinda announced as she tossed the empty pizza box into the fireplace. “Bring your laptop down here.”

Before long, Belinda was perusing BlueFly, flipping through dress after dress until she found it. “This is the right one.” She clicked to enlarge the photo, and Megan stared at a long, shiny, raspberry-colored gown.

“Is that satin?” Megan asked.

“Yes.” Belinda pointed to the bodice. “See the way the fabric is draped to fold across the bustline like this? Very flattering.”

“Ooh, that’s pretty,” Arianna cooed.

“Really sophisticated,” Olivia confirmed.

“But will it look good on me?” Megan demanded. “I tried on a whole bunch and they all looked lousy and—”

“Trust me,” Belinda told her. “This design is foolproof. Anyone can wear it and look fantastic. Besides that, it’s a Nicole Miller—known for quality and style—and it’s a classic. And isn’t the color perfect?”

“I guess.” Megan was trying to imagine how it would look on her. “After trying on some sleeveless dresses, I wasn’t too sure it was such a good—”

“Of course you’re going sleeveless, Megan. Honestly, you didn’t think you were going to wear sleeves to prom?”

Megan flexed a bicep. “It’s just that my arms are, well, a little chubby.”

Arianna giggled.

“Come on,” Olivia urged. “Let’s stay out of this.”

Belinda reached over to feel Megan’s bicep. “Well, you just need to start doing some exercises. Then we’ll get you a good fake tan. That always makes you look slimmer. No problem.”

Megan studied the dress more carefully. “It is pretty.” And it did look good on the model—but she was a model.

“What size are you wearing?”

“I’m not really sure,” Megan admitted. “When I tried on dresses, they all seemed to be different.”

“Then we’ll do it the old-fashioned way.” Belinda went over to the junk drawer and removed a measuring tape.

Megan cringed.

“Come on over here.” Belinda remained in the kitchen. “Let’s get this over with. You want it to fit, don’t you?”

Megan nodded. She tried not to listen as Belinda read out the measurements, making little snide comments as she wrote them down.

“I’m going to lose more weight,” Megan assured her.

“I hope so.”

Before long, Megan handed Belinda her bank card, and the dress was ordered. “It’ll be here by Wednesday,” Belinda said as she returned the card.

“What about shoes?”

“You can either try to match the dress or go with black or a neutral. Maybe bronze. That might be nice.”

“Should I order them online too?”

Belinda frowned. “Not unless you’ve tried them on in a store first. Shoes are trickier than dresses.” Now she peered at her watch. “It’s almost time for Katie to get here. I need to clean up.”

“You’re going back to campus?”

“No. Katie and I are meeting some friends.”

Belinda disappeared into her room, and before long she was picked up by Katie. Arianna and Olivia were immersed in their movie, Mom was working, and Megan found herself missing youth group. She considered going but knew she was so late that it’d practically be ending when she got there. Then she’d have to explain.

On Monday, Megan got the distinct feeling that her friends were acting a little chilly toward her. However, she didn’t have much time to think about that since it was the official launch of her campaign. She had hoped to have more help from them in putting up posters and flyers and manning her campaign table in the cafeteria. Apparently they had better things to do.

“How’s it going?” Chelsea asked as she stopped by the table at the end of the day.

Megan gave her a shiny campaign smile. “Great.”

“I’ve seen your chocolate bars around.”

Megan rolled her eyes. “Yes. They’re popular. I’m going to have to start rationing them or I’ll be out.”

“Maybe save them for the end of the campaign.” Chelsea picked up a button and examined it. “Have you been able to put much time into the fundraiser?”

“Time? What do you mean?”

“I mean soliciting donations for the auction. I’m working on it, but we need more stuff, Megan.”

“I’ll do that.”

Chelsea nodded, but she seemed troubled.

“Is something wrong?”

“Well . . . I didn’t want to say anything . . . but Lishia and Janelle are getting a little put out. If you know what I mean.”

“Put out? How so?”

“They’re irritated that you didn’t help at the soup kitchen. And that you missed youth group. They feel like you’re letting them down.”

“I’m letting them down?” Megan stood now. “What about them? They promised to help me with my campaign, and yet I was putting up signs by myself. And I’ve been handing out buttons by myself and—”

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.” Chelsea held up her hands.

“Sorry.” Megan glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’m late for practice. We’re starting to work on
Fiddler
today.” She began gathering up her stuff, tucking it all into the big magenta bag that Belinda had suggested she use. “I’ve got to go.”

Chelsea nodded. “Well, don’t forget about the fundraiser, okay? We really need to work together if it’s going to be a success.”

“I know.” Megan smiled. “And it’s going to be a success. I just know it.”

Then, as she hurried out of the cafeteria, she noticed Lishia and Janelle standing by the soda machine just watching her. The expressions on their faces did not seem very friendly. It was obvious they’d sent Chelsea to do their dirty work. In a way, she couldn’t blame them for being concerned. It didn’t look right for her to miss youth group or volunteering at the soup kitchen. It was just that she couldn’t help it. At least that’s what she was telling herself. Anyway, she would have to do damage control later. Right now, she needed to get to practice.

Megan felt a flush of pride as she walked down the breezeway. Seeing her posters plastered all over the place was a thrill. And so far, she was the only candidate who had bothered to hang posters. But Belinda had said that was typical. “Some people tease the girl who’s first with her campaign,” Belinda had told her yesterday. “But trust me, it works. That’s what I did. That’s what the prom queens before me did. Start early and start strong. Keep it going all the way to the end.” She had grinned. “And then just let the good times roll.”

As Megan hurried toward the auditorium, her stomach was rumbling. She was so hungry she felt tempted to sneak a chocolate bar. Really, what would it hurt? Just one little candy bar? Besides, she would need the energy to make it through rehearsal. But by the time she was in the auditorium, she’d managed to put away three bars. She dumped the evidence in the trash container by the door but frowned to see the “Make It Megan” wrappers crumpled so forlornly. She gave her mouth a swipe and hoped no traces of chocolate would betray her as she hurried down to the stage where others were gathered.

“Golde!” Jack exclaimed. “You made it.”

“Yes. Sorry I’m late.”

“Congratulations on the prom queen nomination. That’s awesome.”

“All right, everyone!” Mr. Valotti spoke loudly. “Let’s listen up. I’m glad you’re all here, and I hope everyone is pleased with their roles in this upcoming musical. Remember, there are no small roles, only small actors.” He began to drone on about how everyone was equally important and how he expected them to give 110 percent and how they needed to start rehearsals on time. The usual routine. Not much had changed since the last time Megan had been in a production.

“With no further ado, let’s start rehearsing.” He clapped his hands. “Scripts in hand. People in their places. Let the fun begin.”

But it wasn’t as much fun as Megan had hoped. Even with her script right in front of her, she found herself missing her cues and stumbling over her lines as well as her feet. It was as if her brain wasn’t functioning properly.

“I’m sorry,” she told Mr. Valotti and Jack after she’d blown it for the umpteenth time. “I just feel a little off today.”

Mr. Valotti shrugged. “Well, it’s the first day. That’s to be expected.” He grinned. “By the way, good luck on running for prom queen this year.” Then his smile seemed to fade a bit. “I just hope you won’t let that election take precedence over our production.”

She firmly shook her head. “No, of course not.”

“Because, while it’s a nice honor, it’s something that’s only for you, Megan. But this musical is for
all
of us.” He waved his arm toward the others as he increased the volume of his voice.
“This is a
group
project where every member is vital to the success of the whole. I want you and everyone here to respect that.”