Second Helpings (39 page)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

june

==================================

    ABC Amber LIT Converter v2.02

====================================================================

    ABC Amber LIT Converter v2.02

==================================

the second

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. It was my mothers knock, one that went from the knuckles straight to my skull.

Jessie, Bridget is here to see you, Mom said. She said its urgent.

I popped out from under the covers.

Send her in.

The last time Bridget arrived at this early an hour on a Sunday, it was to break the news about Miss Hyacinth Anastasia Wallace. So I knew whatever it was that was bringing her to my door was indeed urgent.

Bridget walked in, her face as deep and red as a gash without a Band-Aid.

Whats going on? I asked.

She coughed up her ponytail.

What? Did you see a trailer for Bubblegum Bimbos on the Internet or something?

No. Its like. Okay.

Bridget, what is it?

I cant go to the prom with Percy!

Of course. What could be more important than the prom?

Why not? I asked.

Ive got, like, this really big audition in L.A. for a TV movie about OxyContin abuse the next day, she said. Its like a really juicy part, and as much as it kills me not to go to the prom, Percy is insisting that I dont pass up the opportunity.

Okay, so what does this have to do with me?

Will you go with him instead?

I shrank back under the covers.

Jess! Hes already put down his deposit for the tux, and Ive already paid for the ticket, and we dont want them to go to waste.

Why would Pepe want to go to the prom with me when youre his girlfriend?

Because youre, like, his best female friend, Bridget said. And youre, you know

What?

She sat down next to me on the bed. Her eyes got a little moist. Well, youre, like, my best friend, too, and Id like to see you go to the prom with someone fun.

I didnt quite know what to say. I had never really thought about my relationship with Bridget. With Hopes best-friend status still secure, who was Bridget to me? My childhood playmate? The one friend who has known me since diapers?

But thinking back over the past year or so, Bridget has been more than my former best friend. She was the fallback person I went to whenever I needed to have a face-to-face heart-to-heart. But I had obviously penalized her for one reason: She wasnt Hope. So what if she wasnt my intellectual equal? So what if shes sometimes more ditzy than I can handle? Bridget was still the only person at Pineville I completely trusted, even if she wasnt my actual best friend. She was indeed, just as she had said, like my best friend. Sometimes thats good enough.

Okay, I said. Ill go to the prom with your boyfriend.

She clapped her hands enthusiastically, proving that you can take the girl out of cheerleading, but not the cheerleader out of the girl.

And Ill try not to sleep with him, too.

With that, Bridget squealed and smacked me in the face with a pillow. I yelped and whacked her back. Thus began a very girlie pillow fight, the kind thats the fuel of countless adolescent boys fantasies.

the fifth

I very intentionally did not tell my mom right away that I was going to the prom. As it is my mothers custom to obsessively ask about any school-spirited PHS function, I figured I would just wait until she brought it up, then have a lot of fun by stunning the hell out of her by blithely men-tioning that yes, after four years of abstention, I was finally making her dreams come true: I was going to attend a high-school formal, and I needed to shop for a dress. Not an anti-prom dress. An actual prom dress.

Although I am loathe to admit it, I was kind of looking forward to getting an eat-your-heart-out kind of dress. Whose four-chambered organ I wanted to dine on, Im not so sure. Truth is, once I agreed to go with Pepe, the prom actually seemed like sort of a fun idea.

Watch for lightning.

However, my mom, in a unique spin on her usual annoyingness, and being preoccupied with her darling first grandchild, did not ask. So today, two days before the prom, I was still dressless. As much as I didnt want to run to my mom for help, thats exactly what I ended up doing.

Uh Mom?

Mmmm, she said. She was distracted by the latest pictures of itty-bitty Marin. I leaned over to take a look. Bethany and G-Money had put one of those awful lacy headbands on her. Babies are cute enough as they are, so why do parents feel the need to decorate them like a Christmas tree? I could tell from the sour expression on her face in the pic that Marin did not enjoy the accessorization. Either that or she was crapping her diaper.

Uh Mom?

Mmmm.

Mom, I thought you would like to know that Im going to the prom on Friday night.

My mother slapped down the pictures. Youre going to the prom???!!!

Yeah.

She just stared at me all bug-eyed and in disbelief.

I was asked, so I decided why not?

By who?Scotty?

Mom, how many times do I have to tell you that Scotty is a total jackass and that I would never go out with him?

Jackass isnt a nice word, honey, she said.

Well, hes not a nice person, I replied.

Then who? Len?

Hes still with Skankier, I replied.

Shank isnt a nice word, Jessie, she said. Its disrespectful to all women.

Well, so is her compulsive need to sleep with everyone elses boyfriends.

She tapped her forefinger to her temple, deep in thought. That boy from Silver Meadows? Marcus?

I snorted. Definitely not.

Then who, Jessie?

Pepe. I mean, Percy, I replied.

Who is Percy?

Hes a junior in my French class.

Youve never mentioned him.

This was true enough. Isnt it funny how I could sit next to someone every day for three school years, form a friendship with that person, yet never, ever mention him once in front of my parents? It just goes to show you just how little they really know about my life, even the stuff that wouldnt be such a big deal to mention.

Were French-class friends.

You must have made quite an impression on him if he asked you to the prom.

Not really.

Oh, Jessie, my mom said, girlishly swatting my wrist. Dont be so modest.

No, really, Mom. Hes Bridgets boyfriend.

Now my mom was stumped. Why would Bridgets boyfriend want to go the prom with you?

Then I told my mom the whole complicated story.

This is all very strange, Jessie, my mom said.

Yes, it is, I replied. But it doesnt change the fact that its two days before the prom and Im still dressless.

My mom took off her reading glasses and shook her head with pity. Well, its too late now.

What do you mean its too late?

You cannot buy a dress this far into prom season.

And why not?

Why not? she said, exasperated by my ignorance. Why not? Ill tell you why not. When Bethany was a freshman and started dating that senior boywhat was his name? Well, whatever his name was, he broke up with his girlfriend and started dating Bethany right before the prom, and we had a simply awful time trying to find something suitable for her. The only dresses left this late in the season are simply awful. Tacky, tacky dresses that I would not spend one penny on.

Well, what do you suggest? I came to you for help. I thought youd love this.

Well, I suggest that next time you not wait until the last minute to get a date.

I guess Ill just wear jeans. I knew that would get her panties in a bunch.

Dont test me, Jessie, my mom said. Let me think.

At this point I didnt even want to go shopping with my mom anymore, which is why the following suggestion didnt sound as ridiculous as it might seem.

Have you looked in Bethanys closet?

Ugh, was all I could reply, remembering the suit I wore to the disastrous Piedmont tea.

Shes got at least a dozen formal dresses up there. Arent the eighties back in style again?

Mom, thats a swell idea and all. Only youre forgetting that Bethany had boobs in high school and I do not.

Come, she said. Lets take a look-see.

So my mom and I scoured Bethanys prom archives. There were a lot of truly god-awful dresses up there. An iridescent purple Gone with the Wind ball gown. A white multilayered knee-length number that looked like a wedding cake. A skintight hot-pink minidress with ostrich feathers sprouting from the shoulders.

But then, in plastic, toward the back, was a red silk, one-shouldered dress with a swishy, asymmetrical bottom. It was so retro it was cool again.

Ooooooh, my mom said. I always loved this one. Its so fiery. So Carmen.

I held it up to me and was shocked that it looked like it could fit. I thought my sister was always way more bodacious than me, hut my mom assured me that Bethany was as boobless as I was back in high school.

She didnt fully develop until college, she confessed. Neither did I.

Really?

Really. Were a family of late bloomers here.

So theres hope that Ill be busting out of my A-cup bra yet.

I tried on the red dress, and would you believe it? With a slightly padded strapless bra, this sucker would actually fit me.

My mom burst out crying when she saw me in it.

Youresniff!allsniff!grownsniffup! She hugged me tightly and blubbered into the back of my head.

Moooommmmm

I guesssniff!youre old enoughsniff!to decide what college is right for yousniff!even ifsniff!your father and I disagree. Huge sniff!

Thanks for finally realizing that, Mom. I was still stuck in her maternal headlock.

Its just thatsniff!we worry.

Bad things happen everywhere, even close to home.

As soon as I said it, I felt horrible. Of course she knows this. My mom had every reason to be paranoid about my well-being. Her only son died in his nursery while she slept less than twenty-five feet away.

I wish this was something we could talk about. Maybe one day shell trust me enough to tell me how she feels about the loss. Maybe she never will. But its not up to me to decide, now, is it? The only thing I can do is be the best daughter I can be to her. Ill fall short of her ideals, inevitably and often, but Ill just have to take Bethanys word about having kids: The blessings of being my moms child outweigh the pains-in-the-ass.

This was fun, Mom, I said, finally breaking free of her grip. Thanks for your help.

It was my pleasure, she said. We should do things like this more often.

We should, I said, so caught up in the moment that I actually meant it.

I hear the shopping is outstanding in New York City.

It is, I replied.

Well, youll have to show me around, she said, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. Big-city girl.

And this time we both sniffled through our tears.

the eighth

Here are some highlights from the Pineville High Senior Prom 2002:

So many girls were bent over at the waist, butt-clapping and body-slapping, that the administration couldnt even attempt to enforce the no lewd dance moves rule.

Sara and P.J. were sent home before they even set foot through the hotel doors, as it was clear to the chaperones by the way they had taken turns vomiting in the parking lot that they had raided the DAbruzzis wet bar and gotten roofed before they arrived.

Manda was voted Prom Queen and Scotty was voted King. This caused more than a minor stir. The royal non-couple broke time-honored Pineville High tradition and danced with their dates (Len, of course, and some anonymous freshman Hoochie Baby) instead of each other.

Bridget did not have an audition (another lie!) and went to the prom with Pepe. They finally debuted as a couple, as sheas they had planned all along, and Bridget was gracious enough to fill me in on all the major prom hoopla because

I did not make it to the prom. It wasnt part of their master plan, but all involved parties were very happy, anyway.

Here, in dragged-out, dramatic detail, are several scenarios, all of which did indeed take place at the pre-prom party held at Saras house, but only one of which is the real reason I did not make it to the prom.

Scenario #1: Skank Thanks

Can I talk to you?

It was Manda, all heaving bosom, body glitter, and baby-blue chiffon.

I never got a chance to apologize for what happened between you and Len, she said.

Why now?

Because this is it, isnt it? Its never going to be like this again. Well see each from time to time, Im sure, but its never going to be like this again.