Read Prom Online

Authors: Laurie Halse Anderson

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Girls & Women, #Social Issues, #Adolescence

Prom (20 page)

BOOK: Prom
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“Whoa, girl!”
“Looking good, Hannigan.”
Ma pulled my arm closer. “Let’s cut to the front of the line.”
“We can’t. It’s too crowded. And don’t you dare pull the ‘baby’s coming’ routine again. Nobody will care, trust me. They’re here for fun.”
The line inched forward. Ma and I scanned the crowd, but there was no sign of Grandma. I knew she was here, knew it in my bones. All of this was coming together in a weird way, like when it was done, it was going to make sense, but we weren’t quite there yet.
A minute later, TJ joined us. “Yo, Ash. We got a problem.”
“We got a lot of them.”
“I heard that Gilroy is checking tickets at the door. With school security and a cop.” He held me back. “We can’t let him see me.”
“What are you talking about? You dropped out last year. He can’t do anything to you now.”
TJ ran his hands through his hair, keeping his eyes on the door. “Gilroy said he’d press charges if I ever showed my face again.”
Ma was pretending not to listen, but she was catching every word.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “We were going to come here, before I got busted. To the prom. How were you gonna get past Gilroy then?”
TJ wiped the hair gel that stuck to his hands on his pants. “I was going to pay a buddy to open a bathroom window so I could sneak in.”
“Very sophisticated,” Ma muttered.
TJ stepped closer and whispered in my ear. “Come on, babe. Your mother can talk to Gilroy, explain about old Grandma. We’ll wait back here, hang by the wall, check everybody out.”
The line ahead of us moved and the line behind us pushed. I took a few steps forward with Ma. TJ came, too, his eyes on the door.
“I need to go inside,” I said. “I’m sure she’s there. She’s batty about this whole prom thing, just like Nat. Look at the dress she made, for crying out loud.”
“Just explain who you’re looking for to the security guards,” TJ said. His voice was tight.
I held the box up. “I want to sneak these in, too. The security guards won’t like that.”
TJ wrapped his arms around me and blew gently in my ear. “Let ’em get their own damn protection. You and me have better plans for that box. Come on, babe.”
“Let go of me,” I said.
TJ squeezed tighter. “You don’t want to be a part of this shit.” He nibbled my neck and whispered. “I want to get you out of that dress.”
I peeled his arms off me and stepped away.
“Hello? Are you crazy? I do too want to be a part of this ‘shit.’ And I’m keeping the dress on, thank you very much.”
He rolled his eyes.
“You don’t like it, you can leave,” I said.
“Maybe I will.”
“Maybe you should.”
“Maybe I’ll find somebody else to take home.”
“Knock yourself out, asshole.” I grabbed Ma’s arm. “Emergency!” I shouted. “We got an emergency here!”
Ma and me butted and barged our way to the front of the line. TJ fell back into the shadows.
“About time you told him where to get off,” Ma said.
143.
The security guards stood in our way.
“We’re looking for an old lady,” I said. “I know she’s here.”
“We don’t got old ladies here,” the first guard said, eyeing my mother. “This is the prom.”
“Watch it, buster,” Ma said.
“What’s in the box?” the second guard asked.
“Her medication,” I said.
“Right. That’s a good one. Go home now.”
“No, listen—”
Mr. Gilroy stepped in between the two guards, a sick ferret smile on his face.
Damn.
“Miss Hannigan. I was afraid of something like this. You are determined to force a confrontation, aren’t you?”
The kids behind us pushed a little, complaining about the delay.
“Mr. Gilroy, it’s not what you think. Let me explain.”
“Miss Hannigan, you have three seconds to get off school property or I will direct this officer to escort you. We will then press charges.”
“That’s it!” Ma shoved me to the side. “All right, you weasel. I’ve had a hard day. Shut your yap and listen.”
The crowd behind us went silent. Kids at Carceras can smell a good fight for miles.
“Madam, can I help you?”
Ma bellied up to Gilroy, got right in his face and let it fly. All those years of watching Court TV were not a waste. She told him we were to look for a frail, dying Alzheimer’s patient, that the police were on the way, and he was standing in the way of us saving her life.
The crowd started whispering.
Then she told him that he had been a creep when he was her Social Studies teacher back in 1988 and he was still a creep today, only now he was pathetic and twisted, too.
The crowd giggled.
Ma said that our lawyer was filing a lawsuit against Gilroy, Banks, the superintendent, and the school board for singling me out for cruel and unusual punishment. That she was going to see him fired and yank his pension. If she had her way, he’d be pumping gas by Christmas.
The crowd broke into applause. I almost did, too, but she shot me a warning look.
“Now.” She whipped out her extra-long Ma finger and shook it in his face. “You are getting the hell out of our way, and we are going inside.”
Gilroy stepped to the side.
A car screeched to the curb, the driver leaning on the horn. Everybody turned around to look.
“Oh, crap,” Ma said.
It was Dad’s taxicab. He leaned out the window and waved at us. “We found her!!”
Grandma Shulmensky leaned over, waved a can of ravioli, and blew kisses with her free hand.
“A touching family reunion,” Gilroy said. “Anything else you’d like to say, Mrs. Hannigan?”
144.
That’s when we should have left. Grandma was safe. We’d explain everything to Nat and her dad. If we were lucky, we’d figure out a way not to get sued by Gilroy for public humiliation and slander. I’d kiss and apologize at every red light and do other things with TJ to get him to forgive me. We still had the Caddy and I still looked fine. We could drive east to Atlantic City and sit on the beach until the sun came up, me still wearing my beautiful, strange gown.
Conversation started up again and the music in the gym got loud enough for us to hear at the door. The show was over; folks wanted in. The crowd behind us pushed forward, and the security guard started checking their tickets and letting them step around us and pass through the metal detectors.
The old Ashley, the normal me, would have walked away. Well, limped away, listening to Ma complain, helping her into the car, putting up with TJ sticking his tongue down my throat while my parents argued, and keeping Grandma out of trouble.
“Are you okay?” Ma asked. “You look kinda funny. Your stomach acting up? I’ll make you toast when we get home.’”
145.
Once upon a time there was a girl who decided to make it happen.
146.
“I’m going in,” I said.
“What?” Ma squinted and leaned forward. “What did you say?”
“I’m going in. I want to dance with my friends.”
“What about TJ?”
“TJ who?”
She stared for second. The crowd pushed forward again and blocked Gilroy’s view of us.
“You can’t go in there,” Ma hissed. “Gilroy wants to arrest you. Me, too, probably.”
“Seriously, Ma, I’m going in.”
She pried my right eyelid all the way open and stared at my eyeball. “Are you high? Dammit, Ashley, if you got high with TJ, so help me God—”
I stroked her cheek once and put my finger on her lips. “Straight as an arrow, Ma, listen. You always wanted to see me at the prom, right?”
“Been dreaming about it since you were born.”
“Here’s your chance. Plus, you get to use your acting skills in front of a huge audience. I need a distraction. You know. . . . ” I waved at her belly.
She put her hands on her back and stretched a little. “You really want me to do this? You won’t be embarrassed?”
“I didn’t say that. Just make a distraction.”
She sighed. “Lord knows I’m good at that. All right. Work your way over there to the left and hide the box of you-know-whats. The things we do for our children, I swear. . . . ”
I kissed her forehead. “Thanks, Ma. You’re the best.”
She let out a groan. Then a louder groan. She clutched the guy in a hipster tux next to her. He backed off like she had smallpox, but Big Mike Whelan (looking very sharp in a bow tie) stepped forward and caught Ma as she fell towards him. Ma turned the groan up to a wail.
“The baby’s coming!”
I let the security guards and Gilroy rush by me, then slipped behind a group of girls wearing saris. I turned around just before I snuck in the door. Ma had Gilroy in a hammer-lock and was shrieking in his ear.
“The head! Mother Mary, have mercy! I can feel the head!”
She winked at me and I took off.
Hollywood lost a great one when my ma decided to drive a bus.
147.
No way. That is not the gym. Not our gym.
It was a miracle; Nat’s crazy pink notebook come to life. The bleachers, the basketball nets, the BEHAVIOR AND CONSEQUENCES poster—they had disappeared in the dark. The sky was filled with twinkling white stars, the walls covered with waves of purple and silver. There were rows of round tables (with white tablecloths!) and chairs to my right and to my left. The refreshment tables were along the back wall, with the English teachers, stars in their eyes, standing behind it. And in the spotlight at the center of the gym was the dance floor, with speakers at the corners and the DJ cuing up music at the back.
I looked behind me. No guards. No Gilroy.
I picked up my skirts and mingled with the crowd.
Nat must have rented a couple hundred out-of-work celebrities, because none of the people sitting, walking, leaning over to fix a corsage, flirting, smiling, sipping orange soda out of a plastic cup—none of those people looked like they went to school with me. They were dreams in suits and tuxedos, visions in silk and chiffon and lace. Skin glowed in the light from the candles and the stars, teeth sparkled, rhinestones turned into diamonds, and everybody was in love.
Monica was the first person to see me.
“You’re here!” she screamed. “You’re here! I got down to one thirty-nine and my dress fits! I’m so happy. Isn’t this awesome?”
“Look at you,” I said. Monica, who normally wore her shorts too short, shirts too tight, and earrings ghetto-big was gorgeous in a peach-colored gown that clung to her best assets—boobs and waist—and skimmed over the rest like it didn’t matter. Her hair was long and curly. I had never seen it out of a ponytail before.
“You like it?” she asked.
“You’re rocking the whole house in that thing,” I said.
She grinned and nodded. “Yeah, I know.” She touched her pearl earrings. “These were my mom’s.”
I swallowed hard, blinked away my tears and gave her another hug. “Gorgeous.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” she said, fanning her face. “I had to put on fresh mascara two times already. Damn earrings always make me cry. Come on!”
She grabbed my hand and dragged me through the crowd to a table in the back corner. The entire prom comm was there looking like beautiful flowers, the kind you see in expensive vases in hotel lobbies. When they saw me, there was screaming, hugging, jumping up and down, and a final round of screaming. I looked around, worried that Gilroy and his goons were going to notice the commotion and drag me away, but groups of girls were doing the exact same thing all over the gym while their dates stood back and watched.
“Look at that dress!” Lauren said.
“Where did you get it?” Junie asked.
Aisha tilted her head like she was doing mental math. “Where did you get the money for it?”
I explained that a neighbor sewed it for me. My cheeks hurt from grinning so much.
When they got done staring at me, they took turns showing off. I barely recognized any of them.
Lauren’s dress looked like a layer of gold skin poured over her. Aisha had on a short gray dress that sparkled in a million directions every time she moved. Junie had on an old-school prom gown: light blue satin, fitted bodice with spaghetti straps and a floor-length skirt plumped up by thick layers of netting. Lauren’s hair was pulled back in a sleek bun, Aisha’s was braided with thin silver ribbon, and Junie’s was crimped and oiled. I checked Junie’s left hand but she wasn’t sporting a diamond so I didn’t say anything about Charles.
The DJ started playing background music, not fast or loud enough to dance to. Around the gym, heads started bobbing, hips swaying back and forth.
“Here comes Nat!” shouted Junie.
Mr. Shulmensky rolled Nattie over to us. The whole screaming, hugging, jumping thing happened again, except that Nat couldn’t jump; she could only hop on her butt in her wheelchair. Mr. S. joined the English teachers at the cake table. Nattie’s eyes looked a little crossed. For sure she took that second pain pill.
We pushed Nat to the closest table and all sat down. I put the cardboard box under my chair. They fired a million questions at me about my dress and my foot (the slippers did stick out a little), and how I got in.
Finally Monica looked around and asked, “Where’s TJ?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know and I don’t care.”
Nat pumped her fist in the air. “Yes! She sees the light—woo-hoo!”
The DJ grabbed the mike.
“Are you ready to party?” he shouted.
Everybody rushed the dance floor. Charles, Ramon, and Jamel came to escort their ladies. The first beats out of the speakers were so loud they blew the hair out of my face.
A guy who looked like he could be an underwear model, with toffee-colored skin and hot fudge eyes, asked me to dance.
BOOK: Prom
13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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