Will the Real Prince Charming Please Stand Up (3 page)

****

Library @ lunch
, the group text from Talia read.
Brainstorm proj
.

K
, I texted back, keeping my phone under my desk and out of Mr. Jorgensen’s line of sight. Talia may have been brave enough to openly defy school rules, but the last thing I wanted was for one of the school deans to confiscate my phone while I was scheduling time to work on a project for his class.
J?
I texted, wondering if the third member of our group would be joining us.

Jake responded right away.
Moved rehearsal 2nite. OK 4 lunch
.

I looked over my shoulder toward the back of the class and grinned when he waved at me. He had been so busy with Ephemera, it felt like I never saw him anymore. I knew it would be awesome once they were huge and headlining some major music festival one day, but I still missed my friend.

My phone buzzed again after another minute with a new text from Talia.
F coming
, it read.
Wants to help
.

I smiled.
A still crazy w HC?
I wrote, knowing that if Ally was still working on last minute details for the weekend, Finn would be alone at lunch.

Talia replied almost immediately.
LOL Prob. Send F ur lunch order.

I quickly texted Finn my food requests and tucked my phone back into my skirt pocket while Jorgensen droned on. Thankfully, we only had to endure his droll, monotone voice for a few more minutes. When the bell rang and the class began to empty out, I met Jake and Talia at the back of the classroom.

“So Finn’s going to meet us there?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“I hope he gets to the line early,” Jake said, holding his stomach. “I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving.”

“That’s because I’m a growing boy.”

Talia grinned. “‘Boy’ is the operative term there.”

“If you two can’t behave, I’m going to have to separate you,” I said in my best imitation of my mother.

We entered the otherwise deserted library and spread out our stuff on the largest table. Jake waved to Mrs. Ryan, the librarian, and she smiled at us before returning to her crossword puzzle. Once everyone was required to bring their own laptops to school, hardly anyone used the library anymore. It became a place to hide from people more than it was to study. The running joke was if anyone actually needed to look for a book, he should clear his throat really loudly before walking through the stacks, or else he’d probably see someone making out.

“So do you guys have any ideas?” Talia asked.

I reread my notes. The assignment called for us to put together a presentation on the political, economic, and social issues that ultimately led to the French Revolution with a what-if analysis of what we thought might have happened if any or all of those factors weren’t present. It seemed like a daunting assignment.

“Other than divvying up the parts like Jorgensen suggested?” I shook my head. “Not really.”

“We should definitely divide it,” Jake agreed. “I mean, we’ll still work together, but at least we can focus on just one thing, you know?”

Talia bobbed her head in agreement. “Right. So do you guys mind if I take the political issues?”

Jake shrugged. “Cool. I’ll take econ.”

“All right,” I said. That left me with studying the social issues of eighteenth century France, but I didn’t have a preference, anyway.

A knock on one of the windows made me jump, and I turned to see Finn balancing a ridiculous amount of food on a tray. Jake rushed to open the door for him.

“They really should have a button for hands-free access,” he said, joining us in the library. “I need to speak to Mr. Hamilton about making that entrance ADA-compliant.”

“Finn, how many disabled people are here at Westgate?” Talia asked.

He scowled at her. “That’s not the point.” He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at the librarian. “Hi, Mrs. Ryan!”

“Food, Mr. Marks?” she said with a hint of disapproval in her voice. None of us were concerned. She adored Finn. This was all for show.

“We’ll clean up after ourselves, Mrs. Ryan,” he said. “I promise.”

“Yes, yes. We’ll clean up. I’m starving.” Jake took the tray from Finn’s hands and placed it onto the table.

“Did you guys decide on anything yet?” Finn asked as he sat down. “The old divide and conquer, maybe?”

I nodded. “Talia’s going to talk about the political stuff. Jake’s covering their economy. I’m on social issues.” Talia pushed an over-dressed salad toward me. “Thanks.”

Finn pursed his lips as he thought. “That’s good, but when you guys are putting it together, be careful with that strategy. Nothing only exists in one of those buckets, so, like, if you’re talking about something political, just remember it has an economic and social impact, too.”

See, this was why we kept Finn around, aside from being an all-around cool guy. He drew his line at doing our homework for us, but he wasn’t above moderating our group projects.

Talia threw down her fork. “Ugh,” she said, scowling at the door. “Who invited him?” She shot me an irritated look.

I turned to see Dante saunter into the library. He was glancing around as though this was the first time he’d seen it.

“I swear it wasn’t me,” I told her, but she silenced me with a shake of her head.

“Are you lost?” Talia asked, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.

He smirked in response but didn’t answer. “What are you guys all doing in here?” he asked.

“Homework,” Jake replied somewhat rudely. “What does it look like?”

I stared at him. What did all my friends have against Dante?

“You guys do homework at lunch?”

I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and started twirling it. “It’s a pretty big assignment that’s due in a couple of weeks,” I explained. Even as the words came out, I wanted to take them back. I must have sounded like the biggest nerd.

Talia smiled at him. “Unlike others in this room, we don’t like to procrastinate.”

I glared at my best friend before I jumped up to pull Dante aside. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” he said with a smile that made my heart race.

“Really?” I squeaked.

He nodded. “I didn’t see you in the cafeteria, but that fat girl you hang out with—“

I stiffened. Ally didn’t wear a size three, but she was far from fat, and there was no need to insult her. “Ally’s not fat,” I snapped.

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry.” He glanced over at the others. Talia was staring at us, but the guys were busy eating. “Can we talk?”

His comment about Ally irked me, but I was kind of curious to know why he sought me out. “Just for a minute,” I said with a backward glance at Talia. “We’re really trying to get some work done on this.”

He took my hand and leaned forward so that our foreheads were touching. “I really like you,” he whispered.

“I know,” I said. “You told me yesterday.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I felt my ears get hot and was sure that my cheeks were bright pink. “Really?” I squeaked again.

He kind of laughed. “Really.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say.

A sultry grin spread across his face. “So what are you doing Saturday night?”

I bit my lip. “I have plans,” I replied, suddenly feeling guilty.

His mouth curved downward, and I could tell he was disappointed. “Anything you can break?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Sorry. Everyone’s coming over for our Bond marathon.”

“‘Bond marathon’?” he repeated, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, you know. As in James Bond?”

“The spy guy?” He seemed amused.

“Is there any other?”

“You would seriously rather watch a bunch of old movies with those guys than go out with me?”

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly,” I said, putting my hand on his arm. “But we’ve had this planned since school started. We do it whenever there’s a dance.”

“I just want to be with you.”

“But I can’t flake on them at the last second because you want me to. That isn’t right.”

Dante looked at me curiously before he reached for my hand again. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right. It was a selfish, last-minute request.” He sighed. “I really like you, Bianca, and I want to get to know you better.” He lowered his voice and stared into my eyes. “And I hope you want to get to know me.”

He looked so dejected, and I felt my inner resolve weaken. “Well, I guess you can come over if you want,” I said without thinking.

“Are you sure they won’t mind?” he asked with a nod to my friends. “I mean, I don’t want to crash your little party.”

“I’m sure it will be cool,” I replied. “And it’s, like, an all-day thing, so you can come whenever.”

He smiled before kissing me on the cheek. I waved good-bye as he left the library.

“So what was that all about?” Talia asked when I returned to the table and my soggy salad.

“He wanted to know if I had plans for Saturday night.”

My friends’ eyes were fixed on me as though I had committed a major crime.

“What did you tell him?” she demanded.

“That I already had plans with you guys,” I said.

Talia nodded once. “Good.”

“But I told him he could join us if he wanted to,” I added.

From the looks on their faces, I could tell they weren’t very happy about that.

HELP!!!
I texted Ally and Talia.
Mondo chin zit. 911!!!

Now, I wasn’t one of those girls who had a perfect complexion by any means, but the pimples I got were usually small enough to hide with some concealer and a little extra powder. Every once in a while, the World’s Biggest Zit popped up in some inconspicuous place, but it was never anything tragic. When I woke up Friday morning, though, I found a giant red splotch on my chin that was impossible to cover up. And the Homecoming game, where I would be photographed a bunch of times and have to stand up on a float and wave to a few hundred people, was in about twelve hours.

Freak-out mode commencing in three, two—

“Tell me you can help me!” I screamed into the phone when it rang.

I could hear Ally laughing. “You’ll be fine,” she said. “Settle down.”

“How can you possibly expect me to settle down?” I shrieked. “There is a huge zit on my chin that’s threatening to take over my entire face!”

“It’s just a blemish, Bianca,” she said calmly.

“That’s easy for you to say,” I snapped. “It’s not on your face!”

I was much more relaxed fifteen minutes later when, as an extremely collected Ally had promised, a few cotton balls soaked in a very strong saltwater solution had worked to flatten the offensive pimple.

No wonder her skin always looked flawless.

Once I got to school, it felt like the most unproductive day ever. I wasn’t sure why Westgate even bothered holding classes the day of the Homecoming game. It wasn’t like anyone got any work done. All the morning announcements were about the game or the dance, and the girls in my classes were chatting non-stop about their dresses and salon appointments.

It was kind of annoying, actually.

“The varsity game starts at seven,” Sandra told me for what seemed like the fortieth time that week. She ambushed me coming out of homeroom with Ally and Talia; she must have been lying in wait across the hall. “Halftime will start around seven-thirty, so you need to make sure you’re at the locker room—”

“No later than seven-fifteen.” I smiled. “I remember.”

She nodded. “I’m driving you crazy, aren’t I?” she asked, her face contrite. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”

I lifted a shoulder and shrugged. “It’s a big deal, chairing the whole class float thing and whatever. So, no, I totally get it.”

Her face lit up. “Thanks, Bianca.” She exhaled and looked much more relieved. “So I’ll see you tonight no later—”

“Than seven-fifteen,” I finished with a bright smile. “I’m all over it.”

“You’re going to miss this when it’s over,” Brady said in a sing-song voice, sneaking up behind me as I made my way to my next class.

“Are you kidding me? Everyone is stressing me out.” I turned and looked up at my brother. He wore a big grin, but he looked a bit melancholy. That’s when I realized this would be his last Homecoming game at Westgate. I tried to see it from his perspective. “
You’re
going to miss all of this, though, aren’t you?” I asked, feeling a little sad.

He nodded and wrapped his arms around me for a big hug before he disappeared into the mass of other students navigating the hall.

The rest of the day felt like it had been time-lapsed. Dante met me between a few classes and held my hand as we walked down the halls, but even his presence wasn’t enough to release the stress I felt settling into my shoulders. When the final bell rang, I was both relieved to head home and nervous to see what, exactly, Ally had meant when she said she would get me “parade-float ready.” She worked out all the details about my appearance on the float with Sandra and promised me all I would need to do is stand there and be pretty.

Talia and Ally met me by the school’s front entrance, their backpacks a little more stuffed than usual because they were sleeping over. Mom picked us up and took us all to my house where Ally instructed me to change into jeans and a button-down shirt.

“So explain this again. What are you doing to her?” Talia asked when we were in my room. She flipped through a book of photographs dubbed “The Look Book” while Ally brushed my hair.

“Remember how I told you Sandra initially designed the float around Zoe as Marilyn Monroe? Her big hang up was that they were trying to figure out how to get a fan under the floor to blow up her skirt like in
The Seven Year Itch.
Only Zoe didn’t win, and Bianca is so not Marilyn, so it became unnecessary.”

“Right.”

“So I reminded her that there are tons of iconic movies set in New York that we could choose from and not have to redo the whole float, and I suggested that maybe we can do, like, a take of
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
or something.”

“What?” I shrieked. I tried to move, but Ally held me firmly in place.

“But with a white dress,” Talia said, nodding thoughtfully.

“Right.”

“And without the cat and cigarette holder.”

“Exactly.”

Talia bit her lower lip and studied me for a second. “Okay, I can kind of see it. So you’ll do an updo and pin her tiara to it. Maybe do, like, a French twist?”

“You guys are crazy,” I said, trying in vain to look up at them. “Audrey Hepburn I most definitely am not.”

“Hush. You’ll look amazing,” Ally promised me, her hands deftly working the flat iron to straighten my hair. “I mean, you’ve got those big brown eyes like hers and little tiny elf ears.”

“I’ll look ridiculous.”

Talia continued to ignore me. “But the black dress is so iconic for
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
. Like, you really can’t mess with that.”

“I know,” Ally replied, sounding disappointed. “But it really was the best we could come up with. I mean, she has to wear white, and we weren’t about to get her a new dress, and Sandra had already done the basic backdrop. I just got her to add a Tiffany and Company facade.”

“Way to make it work, Katz!” They high-fived.

“Thanks. We’ll see how it looks when she’s actually on the float, though.”

An hour later, I barely recognized myself. Well, I knew it was me because it was my reflection, but Ally really was a miracle worker. She pinned my hair in an elegant updo and did my makeup so my eyes, which I normally thought were out of proportion and made me look like an anime character, were bright and expressive.

“Am I allowed to move now?” I asked, still eyeing my reflection.

“Of course you can move!” Ally said with a laugh, but she added a stern, “Just don’t touch your face or your hair.”

I stood up to stretch my legs as my mom walked into my room.

“Oh my word!” she cried when she saw me. She covered her mouth with one hand and blinked as though she was holding back tears. “Ally, did you do that?”

My friend beamed. “Guilty. But Talia helped.” She reached up with a can of hair spray and spritzed my hair. “How does she look?”

“Amazing,” my mom gushed. “Bianca, you look absolutely precious.”

I smiled nervously. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You look like you could be standing on a—“

“Don’t say it,” I said.

Mom bobbed her head as she bit back a laugh.“I came up to check on you girls. We should leave in about twenty minutes.” She turned to Ally. “Are you getting her dressed at school?”

“You probably should,” Talia offered, “but I really hate those locker rooms.”

Ally agreed. “So do I, but I don’t want her to mess up her dress.”

“I’m standing right here!” I practically yelled. “You guys have been talking about me in the third person for, like, the last hour!”

My mom gently put her arm around my. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You’re right.” She looked at my friends. “You ladies seem to have everything under control. Twenty minutes. Don’t forget anything.”

“Okay,” I said.

She held me at arm’s length for a moment before enveloping me in a hug. “I can’t wait to see your dad’s face when he sees you.”

Half an hour later, we finally piled into the back of my mom’s car. My dress hung beside me in a black garment bag, and Ally had packed a rolling carry-on bag with my shoes and what she called “other necessities.”

It wasn’t even six-fifteen when we left the house, but my mom was the head of the Westgate Prep Parent Volunteer Association and felt it was necessary to be early for every major school event. My dad said it was because she didn’t want anyone to think she was shirking her duties or passing them on to other people, but I secretly thought it was because she didn’t trust anyone to run things the way she thought they ought to be done.

Sure enough, as soon as we pulled into the school parking lot, she started pointing out things that were wrong.

“Ugh,” she said as we drove past the stadium entrance. “I told Denise to put the Booster table between the main entrance and the concessions so people can look at spirit merchandise while they’re waiting to get food. And why is the Alumni Association booth so far from the stadium? No one is going to see it over there.”

“Mom, they’re volunteers,” I reminded her while my friends snickered. “You can’t fire anyone, and you don’t want to scare them off.”

“I know, I know,” she said begrudgingly. “I should be thankful that they’re even helping out.” She parked the car and turned to my friends. “Can you girls take it from here? I’ve got to straighten these booth placements out before more people start showing up.”

My mom barely waited for us to get everything out of the car before she dashed off to talk to a stout blonde woman setting up merchandise at the Athletic Boosters’ table. I recognized her as Liam Iverson’s mom and immediately felt sorry for her. How the WPPVA managed to get any volunteers with my mother as chairperson was completely beyond me.

“Come on, Holly Golightly,” Talia said, guiding me to the girls’ locker room. “Let’s get you out of those jeans and ready for your float.”

I pouted. “But I’ve got, like, an hour before Sandra’s call time.”

“Yes,” Ally said between gritted teeth, “but if you mess up your face or your hair, I will never forgive you.”

I heard a slow, steady whistle behind me and turned to see Tim and Brady heading toward us.

“Check out my baby sister,” Brady called. “What did you do to her, Ally? She actually looks presentable!” I stuck out my tongue at him and he sighed. “Well, she did.”

Ally’s cheeks flushed as she beamed. “She doesn’t look too bad, does she?”

“Meh,” he grunted. “She cleans up okay.”

“You look incredible,” Tim said to me. I almost didn’t hear him.

“Thank you,” I replied, looking up at him and suddenly feeling very shy. “Ally did it.”

“Well, she had a lot to start with.”

I felt my heart race, and my cheeks grew warm under his gaze.

“Tim, we’ve got to go, man,” my brother said, shattering the moment.

“Okay.” Tim looked down at me. “I’ll see you later.”

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled as he followed my brother into the boys’ locker room.

Talia snickered beside me while I watched him walk away.

“What?” I demanded.

She looked at me with wide eyes. “Nothing,” she replied, a small smile still playing on her lips.