Food, Cats, and Being Lazy

So I guess Paige was making me go to Homecoming. At first, I thought she would make me fly solo, which never would have happened in a million years. But then I realized she was going too and I would be her date. I didn't know why. Hannah was back and doing better. Emmy had come back from New York, and she and they were all hanging out at lunch again. But she still sat with me sometimes and decided I would be her date for Homecoming.

I wasn't looking forward to it. Mostly because I'd never been to a dance before, and I didn't want to be known as the weirdo who couldn't get her own date, so she went with her big sister.

But then I was walking to class one day, and I ran into Collin in the hall. He stopped and said, "Hey, Pip. How was your summer?"

My heart exploded, and then I think my brain shorted out because all I got out was a mumbled, "Fine."

"Are you going to Homecoming?"

"Paige is making me go."

"Cool. I'll see you there."

Then I wanted to go run and find Paige and scream about how my dreams were coming true, and we needed to find someone who had Ringo Starr's phone number. But I kept my cool and pretended it wasn't a big deal. In my mind, I was picturing it like Sixteen Candles. But again, Samantha was already pretty to begin with. And had friends. And a pervy nerd with a crush. So actually, that movie was kind of problematic.

Anyway, the point is that we could make a newer, cuter, less racist, and assaulty version.

On the day of the dance, Paige looked like a princess. She was wearing the brown dress because it was the only one that fit over her baby bump. But she still managed to look amazing. She'd curled her hair and had on all this dark makeup and this pink lipstick that made her lips look all plump and perfect. I was going to look like Igor standing next to her. Even if I did look prettier than usual.

My mom let me get a trim just to even out the overgrowth a bit, and Paige decided to stick with the Breakfast at Tiffany's theme. She said when she wasn't pregnant, her friends always did a theme. And they'd show up in a group that all matched, and it would be tons of fun. But they weren't doing that this year because my parents hadn't helped her get a new dress.

So she stuck me in the black dress with the black buckle shoes. Then she convinced my mom to buy me evening gloves and borrow her pearls. She straightened my hair and pinned it out of my face. And then she stuck my dad's Ray-Bans on my head and said it was perfect even though I'd never actually seen an Audrey Hepburn movie, and I wasn't sure.

But I felt really cool. If not pretty, then at least super cool. I was going to be the only girl at Homecoming with evening gloves and sunglasses on. It was like Halloween on Not-Halloween. But Paige didn't tell me we were still going to the dance with all her friends until I was stuffed in with all of them.

Hannah's family rented her a limo, so we all met out front of my house. I followed reluctantly behind Paige as they jumped around, excited to see each other's dresses. They all looked gorgeous and beautiful, and I felt like a toad squawking along beside them. Even though all of them said I looked really cool.

We all sat in the back of the limo, and they chatted the entire ride to the dance. I had no clue what was going on because they were talking about their shared interests and things that happened at school and people they knew. They talked about boys, money, jewelry, babies, adoption, and their fears about childbirth, and then they went back to wondering if they looked hot or not.

They did. Every single one of them.

When we got to school, I stumbled out of the back of the limo first. I got out before the driver even opened the door for us. I helped Paige waddle out, and that was it. I already kind of wanted to go home. But instead, I followed the swans into the school gym, where the entire place had been decorated with crepe ribbons and the school's colors in shiny decals. It was very Sixteen Candles. I bet there was even a crowd of perverts looking at girls' underwear in the boy's room.

I decided to just follow Paige wherever she went. Luckily, she was happy with just sitting on the bleachers to talk to her friends. Then the boys showed up and collected their dates. The few who didn't have dates or girlfriends sat and talked with us. Boys like Collin and Vincent. Well, I figured Vincent hung around because, girlfriend or not, Paige was still carrying his love child. So I just sat there nervously tapping my fingers on my lips with my silky evening gloves. Then Vincent left his conversation with Collin and sat down beside me. Paige was very deep in a discussion about earth-toned eyeliners and failed to notice.

"How's it going?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I'm kind of bored."

"I really like your outfit. Very Audrey." I smiled.

"Thanks. It was Paige's idea."

"You don't look as uncomfortable this time."

"It's almost the same outfit. But I feel more Audrey, and I rejected the red lipstick this time."

"You look very classy. I can't say the same for everyone else."

"Paige looks pretty." She always did.

"She does. But not Audrey." I nodded again.

"It's her dress."

"Well, you wear it well." I nodded.

I really didn't want him to try and flatter me. At least not in front of Paige. If she was even paying attention. She had ears like a fox. She'd be able to tell the exact moment a flatter turned into a flirt. Not that I had any idea what that was like. But he didn't say anything for a long moment. We just watched people dance around and some freshman kids stealing helium from the balloons and laughing at their dumb voices. When I looked over at Vincent again, he was smiling.

"I was like them when I was a freshman," he said.

"Really? How?"

"My first Homecoming dance. I did the exact same thing. That's kind of how Paige and I got together, actually. We knew each other from school, but it was the first time she'd ever actually talked to me. She called me a moron and told me my tie was tacky." I laughed.

"That sounds like something she'd say." He nodded.

"Yeah, so just because she says mean things sometimes—it doesn't mean she doesn't like you."

"I guess so."

"Can I tell you something, though? In the strictest of confidence?" I turned back to him.

"Of course."

I admit, for a moment, I thought he would say something romantic like, "You look beautiful tonight," or "I wish I'd met you first," or something cheesy that would make a good line in a teen movie about my life. But, instead, he leaned over and said in a very low whisper, "If Collin asks you to dance tonight—don't go with him." This time I was even more confused. But he just nodded seriously. "Trust me," he said. Then he stood up and returned to his friends.