The List (28 page)

he gym is dark, shadowy. The only brightness comes from the white crepe paper strung between basketball hoops, the iridescent balloons tied to the bleachers, the disco lights affixed to the DJ table, and whatever trickles in from the hallway. It smells of pizza, fruit punch, and the flowers on the wrists of the girls Jennifer is dancing beside.

Margo, Dana, and Rachel wear matching corsages — miniature red roses that haven’t yet begun to open up, interspersed with baby’s breath, a few perfectly oblong lemon leaves, and springy curls of willow wood.

Jennifer’s wrist is naked, light, and it lifts unrestrained to the beat of the music. Her other hand, the one holding her clutch, hangs heavily by her side.

The Mount Washington embossing stamp is tucked inside it. It takes up so much room, she couldn’t pack her pocket comb or the Band-Aids for if her new heels gave her blisters.

Jennifer has kept her end of the bargain.

Not that Margo even bothered to check.

Jennifer shimmies behind Dana and positions herself so she’s dancing directly in front of Margo. She’s tried this a few times already. She wants to get Margo’s attention so she can lift up her bulging purse and show that, yes, she’d brought the stamp as promised. But as soon as Jennifer positions herself, Margo does a half spin and turns away.

There are exactly twenty little green buttons climbing up the back of Margo’s dress. Jennifer’s had ample opportunities to count them.

As annoying as Margo’s cold shoulder is, it is no colder than it’s been the rest of the week. So she continues to dance merrily, because it appears that Margo has kept her end of the bargain, too.

Neither Rachel nor Dana have treated Jennifer any differently tonight. There’s no indication that Margo’s told them what she managed to figure out. Both girls are friendly and polite to Jennifer. They’ve made room so she can dance with them, split a Coke with her during a slow song, even posed with her for a picture that Jennifer took with her arm outstretched.

There’d been only one moment of palpable discomfort. It had come when the girls arrived to the homecoming dance, about thirty minutes after it had officially started.

Jennifer, on the other hand, had arrived to the gym thirty minutes early. The student council kids were hanging up the decorations. Jennifer offered her help, volunteering to sit at the front table, tear tickets, make sure all votes made their way into the locked ballot box.

It wouldn’t be necessary, she was informed. There were already two freshmen assigned that duty. Jennifer was told to go have fun. Enjoy herself.

Instead, she hung near the doors and greeted each and every student as they arrived. “Vote Queen Jennifer,” she’d said again and again and again, pointing to the sticker on her dress that said the same thing. It was not the one Rachel and Dana had given her. That had lost its stick. She’d made herself another one. A bigger one.

Jennifer could tell which students had voted for her. As they slid their tickets into the ballot box, they smiled and wished Jennifer luck. The ones who didn’t say anything, who avoided her eyes, picked Margo or someone else.

When Margo, Rachel, and Dana arrived, Jennifer was there to greet them, too, in the same way she had all the others. Campaigning.

They gave her the strangest looks.

Margo, well, she could understand her reaction. But Jennifer never said she wasn’t going to still give homecoming queen her best shot. Jennifer had just as much right to win as Margo did. List or no list.

But Jennifer had expected Rachel and Dana to support her. Obviously. Like they’d been doing all last week. Only, the girls seemed a bit taken aback by her forwardness. Which didn’t seem to make much sense to Jennifer. Rachel and Dana had been spearheading this whole ‘Vote Queen Jennifer’ campaign from the beginning. If Margo hadn’t told them, what had changed?

The next song the DJ plays is another fast one. Jennifer alters her moves just slightly, so she is still in sync.

And for the next few songs, Jennifer dances fast and hard. Out of fear, of nerves, of everything. There is so much riding on this night, and she feels like if she stops, she will have to think about the embossing stamp weighing down her clutch purse, the things that Margo said to her weighing down her insides.

She needs this. She needs to win, to prove to herself that she is beautiful. That she’d made the right choice.

As a slow song comes on, she exhales.

“I need some air,” Rachel announces.

Dana and Margo follow her.

And Jennifer, too, a few steps behind.

Jennifer sees it first. Matthew Goulding, coming up from behind. He passes by Jennifer and slips his hand into Margo’s. She turns fast, sharp, maybe because she thinks Jennifer is grabbing her. But she softens when she sees it is him.

“Do you want to —”

Margo does. Of course she does.

Jennifer doesn’t expect Ted to come looking for her. She’s tried to catch his eye a few times tonight, which he does anything to avoid. Turn his back, stare at his shoes.

So it ends up being Rachel, Dana, and her in the corner, where a door has been propped open to expose a slice of parking lot and let in cool air. They all watch Margo.

Jennifer can see the happiness. The joy of Margo’s perfect night coming true right before her eyes. It is too bright in the dark, shining on her face, showing all the cracks.

Now that she is standing still, her feet begin to throb in her new red shoes. She slips them off and stands in bare feet behind them.

“She’s loved that boy forever,” Rachel says.

“I’m glad they’re dancing. It gives her something good tonight.” The way Dana says it, Jennifer hears the subtext. The thought that Margo will not be homecoming queen, even though she deserves to be.

That the thing they wanted for Jennifer is now the thing she’s taking away from Margo.

“You both really do look beautiful,” Jennifer says. She has said this so many times tonight. It just comes out of her mouth, filling the awkwardness.

“Yeah, you, too,” the girls say again. They sound tired.

Jennifer smiles at her feet, the red shoes she’d bought, like Dana had said. When she looks back up, the girls have started talking about something else.

“Did you see that I got the red shoes, like you said?” She steps back inside them.

This time, Rachel and Dana pretend not to hear her.

Jennifer again wonders if Margo said anything. She promised she wouldn’t, but Jennifer thinks Margo will tell people. Maybe not tonight. But eventually. After Margo gets the stamp. She just has a feeling it will come out.

She excuses herself and finds a seat alone on the bleachers. Another fast song comes on, but she doesn’t feel like dancing.

Danielle DeMarco is surrounded by a huge group of kids. There’s a boy, a cute tall boy, doing a funny break-dancing move right in front of her.

This boy is not Danielle’s boyfriend.

Andrew is with his friends against a wall. He is watching Danielle, but trying not to watch her.

Jennifer flicks the hair off her shoulders. One boyfriend to the next. Classic slut behavior. It was part of the reason Jennifer had picked her in the first place. Having had to see Danielle suck face with Andrew in the hallway, every single morning. Flaunting the fact that she had a boyfriend.

Jennifer has little reasons like that for everyone.

She picked Abby because she’d heard Fern making fun of how stupid Abby was to her friends. Because she knew deep down that Fern thought she was better than everyone, even though she’d been on the list last year.

She picked Candace because she knew that if she did, a hundred girls in the school would say a silent thank-you for telling Candace the hard truth — that people have been secretly calling her ugly for years. Maybe she’ll be a different person now that she knows. Jennifer doubts it. It’s not even the point. She didn’t put Candace on the list to teach her a lesson. She didn’t do it for the gratitude. She did it because she wanted to.

She picked Lauren because she was unlike any pretty girl Jennifer had met before. She wasn’t trying at all. And she knew that would drive Candace crazy.

She picked Sarah because she’d wanted to call her out. Sarah was full of crap. The tough act. The bad girl. It was all a cover. And tonight proves it. The fact that she didn’t show up to the homecoming dance, after all that talk, those threats of ruining everyone’s good time. Jennifer laughs at herself for ever letting Sarah’s shtick get to her.

She picked Bridget because —

Bridget walks over and takes a seat on the bleachers, too, a few rows away.

“Hi, Bridget,” Jennifer calls to her.

Bridget looks at Jennifer over her shoulder. “Hey, Jennifer.”

Jennifer scoots down a few rows and says, “I want to let you know how glad I was that you were on the list. You deserved it.”

Bridget watches a girl walk across the dance floor. It’s Bridget’s sister, Jennifer realizes. Anyway, the two girls catch eyes with each other, but both quickly look away.

“I wish I wasn’t on the list,” Bridget says. “The list has been nothing but trouble for me.”

Jennifer’s face wrinkles up. “How can you say that?”

Bridget is holding a plastic cup of soda. She lifts it to her mouth and takes the tiniest sip. “Oh, don’t listen to me.” She turns and smiles weakly. “I don’t want to ruin your special night. I hear you’re a lock for homecoming queen. Congrats.”

“Thanks,” Jennifer says, watching Bridget get up and walk off.

Margo might never think she’s a good person. Margo might never understand why she did what she did. Both the list and the reading of Margo’s diary. It was a hard thing to admit, but she didn’t lie about it. And she could have. She could have never told Margo the truth. And she never told any of Margo’s secrets, all the things she’d read. Jennifer kept them all inside her, like any best friend would.

She wasn’t a bad person.

Really.

Principal Colby arrives at her side. “Are you having fun, Jennifer?”

Jennifer picks up her clutch from next to her and holds it in her lap. “Yes.”

“Good.” Principal Colby looks out at the dance floor. “Jennifer, I feel terrible that I wasn’t able to figure out who made the list. I really wanted to give you that. I’m going to keep trying for the rest of the year, keep my ear to the ground. If I’m still unsuccessful, so be it. But I’ll work twice as hard next year.”

Great. Just great.

“Thank you,” Jennifer says, quietly.

Principal Colby’s smile sinks. “All that said, I came over here to tell you something very important. You didn’t win homecoming queen tonight.”

Jennifer feels all the blood drain out of her face. “Are … are you sure?”

“I wanted you to be prepared. I’m going to go up there and call a name, but everyone in this gym is going to be looking at you. They’re going to want to see your reaction.”

“Thanks,” she mutters. It is freshman year all over again. Only this time, Jennifer won’t be blindsided. This time, she knows she’s the ugliest girl in the room.

“I know you’re disappointed. But unlike what happened on Monday, and for the last three years, you’ll have a chance to decide how you want people to see you.”

Jennifer glances out onto the dance floor and finds Margo. Her arms are up around Matthew Goulding. Her head is on his shoulder. Her eyes are closed.

Principal Colby continues, “None of this matters, Jennifer. Years from now, no one will remember this dance, no one will remember who made homecoming queen, no one will remember the list. What people are going to remember are their friends, the relationships they’ve made. Those are the things to hold on to.”

Jennifer’s eyes brim with tears. Everything goes watery.

“Is it Margo? Did she win?”

Principal Colby doesn’t answer her. Instead, she says, “You’re going to be fine, Jennifer. Just take a minute to collect yourself.”

Jennifer sits on her hands.

Maybe Principal Colby is right, but she hopes not. Because there’s nothing left for Jennifer to hold on to. Except, maybe, a tiny piece of her dignity.

And she’s not even sure she deserves it.

hen Margo hears Principal Colby say her name into the microphone, the entire gym becomes a vacuum. Everyone sucks in one collective breath, removing all the air.

Everyone looks for Jennifer.

Margo, too. Her eyes go to the bleachers, the snack table, the dance floor.

No one can find her.

So the crowd turns back to her. A few people clap. Then more. Soon everyone is cheering. Rachel and Dana both swoop her up into hugs. Despite their campaigning, they are thrilled for Margo. They are her best friends.

The students step back, clearing a narrow path for Margo to make her way to the DJ booth. Matthew is already there, wearing his crown. He’s smiling, reaching out for her.

Margo’s legs are shaking, but with each step, they begin to work better, feel stronger. This is the moment, the one she’s been dreaming about.

It is coming true.

Principal Colby sets down the microphone and picks up the tiara. Margo nervously steps up to her.

“Congratulations, Margo,” Principal Colby says, patting her on the back.

Margo looks behind her again. Searches the faces in the crowd. Is Jennifer here? Is she watching?

“Jennifer’s gone,” Principal Colby whispers in her ear.

It is exactly what Margo had hoped for.

Margo should feel relieved, but she doesn’t. The stamp. Jennifer still has the stamp. And, now that Jennifer hasn’t won, she’s not sure if Jennifer will honor the bargain they struck.

Margo should go find her. Right now.

Then again, there will be time to get it. Later, after the dance. When things settle down. She will track it down. She will get the stamp and end the tradition forever.

But for right now, Margo is able to breathe, finally. She tells herself to enjoy this moment. Her moment.

Principal Colby puts the tiara on Margo’s head.

She’s surprised by the weight.

Obviously the rhinestones wouldn’t be diamonds, but Margo had always assumed the tiara would be metal.

It isn’t.

It is plastic.