“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” she said, arranging my hair loosely around my shoulders. “Okay, now… open!”
I did. And blinked at my reflection. Or, more accurately, the reflection of the mass of sparkles on my head.
“Is that a tiara?”
Sam nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“It’s kinda… sparkly, don’t you think?”
She beamed, a grin taking up her whole face. “I know, right?”
“I didn’t mean that in a good way.”
“It’s perfect.”
“Sam, I’m not sure I need a tiara-”
But I didn’t get to finish as Mom called up from the bottom of the stairs, “Hartley? Your date’s here!”
I cringed at the term, quickly shouting back, “He’s just a friend!”
Mom had done a squeal frighteningly like Sam’s when I’d told her that I had changed my mind and decided to go to the homecoming dance after all. In high school, Mom had been the social butterfly, involved in everything under the sun, or so she told it, including being crowned princess of the winter ball one year. Secretly, I had a feeling she was a little disappointed that I hadn’t followed in her footsteps, though she never said so. But when I had told her I was going to homecoming, her face had lit up, her voice had gone high and giggly, and she’d even lifted the lockdown despite my nearly becoming roadkill last night. Never mind that I had spent the next twenty minutes trying to tell her that, no, I did not need her to run to the florist for an emergency boutonniere (which she ignored and did anyway); no, we did not need to go get nails done and eyebrows waxed (ouch!); and no, we did not need a limo to pick us up (though this last one was tempting).
But the thing I had tried to make the most clear was that, no, Chase was not my date, just a friend who happened to be going, too. With me. At the same time. Totally different than going together.
“Hurry up, Hart. You don’t want to keep your date waiting!”
“Friend!” I yelled, again.
But I was pretty sure she didn’t hear me.
Sam and I grabbed our purses-hers a rhinestone-studded clutch and mine a silver, satin one-and slowly (so we didn’t trip in our ridonkulously high heels) made our way down the stairs.
The first thing I saw when I rounded the corner was Chase.
And then I almost did trip.
I wasn’t sure what I had expected from him for homecoming, but I’d guessed his outfit would probably involve leather, denim, or black. I was right on only one count: the black. Amazingly, Chase was dressed in a traditional tux, black on white, with a simple black tie. The effect was… nice. Surprising. But nice. Bordering on a hot sort of nice, even. Huh. What do you know? He cleaned up pretty good.
“Dude,” Kyle said, getting an eyeful of Sam. “You look hot!”
She did a little twirl for him. “Thanks. So do you.”
Sam had, as I might have guessed, coordinated matching homecoming outfits for both her and Kyle. Kyle’s shirt was the exact shade of purple as Sam’s dress.
“Hey,” Chase said when he saw me. “You look… nice,” he said, echoing my thoughts.
I cleared my throat, a compliment coming from Chase that was not laced in sarcasm throwing me. “Thanks.” I paused. “You, too.”
He gave me a slow up and down, landing on the mass of sparkles on my head. He grinned.
“One crack about the tiara and you’re a dead man,” I warned him.
He put up his hands in a surrender motion. “I wouldn’t dream of it, princess.”
I shot him a death look, but before I could spit out a scathing reply, Mom shouted, “Boutonnieres!” and emerged from the kitchen with two little plastic boxes.
I took the non-purple one and leaned in to grab Chase’s lapel.
Honestly-I’d never done this before and the huge pin that came with the flower was kinda intimidating. I had a horrible vision of stabbing Chase and getting blood all over the first white shirt I’d ever seen him wear.
My hands shook a little as I slowly stabbed the front of his tux, navigating around the thick rose stem.
“Easy, Featherstone,” I heard Chase whisper.
I looked up. He was grinning at me. He thought this was funny?
“Ouch!”
“Oops. My finger slipped.”
He shot me a look. “I’ll bet.”
“Pictures!” Mom said, appearing beside me with a camera.
“Oh, Mom, we don’t really need pictures,” I pleaded.
“Okay, line up,” she said, totally ignoring me. “Hart, move closer to Chase.”
“Mom, please. I told you I don’t need-”
“Chase, put your arm around your date’s shoulders.”
I rolled my eyes. And Mom accused me of tuning
“That’s it. Move in just a little closer so I can get you all in frame.”
Chase pulled me tight against him, completely invading my personal space. His arm around my shoulders was warm, and I felt myself start to sweat in places that would stain my satin dress.
“Mom-” I pleaded again.
“Smile, Hart,” Chase whispered in my ear, hamming it up as Mom popped off shots.
If I hadn’t known better, I’d have sworn he was enjoying this.
After Mom had taken at least a dozen pix of us in every position possible, we all escaped out the front door… where Chase’s Camaro sat at the curb.
“Oh, no fluffin’ way.” I shook my head as Sam and Kyle climbed into the tiny backseat. “You guys are kidding me, right?”
Chase looked from me to the car. “What?”
“We’re going in that?” Why had I not taken Mom up on that limo thing?
“Yep.” Chase beamed.
“No way.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’d like to arrive at homecoming in one piece.”
Chase rolled his eyes. “You have two choices here, Hart-my car or walking.”
I bit my lip, tasting lipstick. I looked down at my heels. Up at his car. Back at the heels.
“Well?”
“I’m thinking!”
Chase rolled his eyes again, then walked around to the driver’s side.
Without much choice, I hopped in.
On the upside, if I died on the way, at least I’d make a sparkly corpse.
The HHH cafeteria was totally transformed. Gone were the rows of Formica-topped tables, and in their place was a dance floor complete with a shimmering disco ball.
The dance’s theme was Tropical Oasis, meaning potted palms were stuck in every corner, paper fish adorned the walls, and the tables lining the sides of the room were piled high with fruit and nuts, with one serving as a bar, where Pineapple Pleasure and Mango Madness were being served in small glasses complete with little umbrellas.
Several teachers were in attendance as chaperones, as well as some parents. I spotted both Sam’s mom and dad taking spots near the dance floor, keeping a keen eye on Kyle. Luckily, I’d been able to “lose” the email calling for parent volunteers before my mom had read it.
The DJ fired up a Pink song, and we all jumped onto the dance floor. (Kyle made sure he kept at least an arm’s length away from Sam.) I had to admit, it was kinda fun. Okay, a lot of fun. The energy was high, the music was loud, and laughter echoed off the beige walls as we all made fun of one another’s dance moves.
Five songs into it, I could feel my mascara starting to sweat away, and I needed a breather.
“I’m gonna grab a drink,” I said.
“What?” Chase yelled.
“I’m gonna go get a drink!”
