Chapter 11: Part 2
Ok, I have no ideas on certain things.
1) Mike had bought me my dress
2) Mike had seen me in my dress
3) I had told Mike that I was practically broke. Why? I actually wasn't.
4) No, I did not say that to weasel my way out of $300.
5) I'm going to homecoming.
6) With Michael Collins; the girl swinger, the girl catcher, the girl stealer. The hottest guy in California (Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating, but whatever.)
7) I didn't care; I was looking forward to it.
I was supposed to be the boy-pusher-awayer. I was supposed to be the guy-hater. I was supposed to be immune to the flirtatious movement made by guys. But I was neither of these things in this situation, after what Mike did. It literally paid back for the scavenger hunt, and it paid back for the things he couldn't resist: being Mike. And even without Dustin's surprising threat, I actually looked forward to homecoming. Originally not with Mike, but with Luke.
With Luke, we would've not done this year's theme, but with the previous year's, arriving in duct tape. We would've laughed and had fun, falling heads over toes with our stomachs hurting laughs. We would've had a fun time.
But this'll be different.
I guess I'll have fun, but in a different way. Most likely Mike will kiss me again, and I won't necessarily not like it. He'll probably dance, being the show-off he is. And that thought reminded me of the first time I saw his chest: sculpted and tan. Mike was too perfect though. It's like the gods are looking over me and laughing, knowing that they've sent their best creation float into my life. But no, he didn't have wings, no he doesn't fly nor float, and no he doesn't sparkle and bite people.
People will stare though. The jocks will laugh at him, his exes mad, the teachers surprised at my date. And I hate attention.
With these thoughts planted in my mind, I hung up my dress in my closet, being careful of the black lace. Under the dress, in a clear spot, I placed my shoes that I'll be wearing: heels. Yeah, heels. My closest thing in this situation to combat boots. I was going to spend that money buying books and stuff, but I compromised, telling myself that there will always be books printed.
And so I watched my week go by in slur, like a was a ghost, watching everybody walk past me. Like I was in fast-forward.
Wednesday- Something. Our teacher had informed us there was going to be a new kid joining in a month or so, but that wasn't important. The only cool thing was that he'll be moving from Florida.
Then came along Friday night, followed by a sleepless night (I thought it was called 'beauty sleep' for a reason, God.) and Saturday morning rolled along-slowly.
I was in a daze. Trudging like a zombie throughout the house, halfway tired and hungry. I reached the kitchen, still unable to recall the surroundings I had seen 5 seconds ago, which would've scared me in a different time, but whatever. Was I in a hangover? NO.
I grabbed a bowl and my trusty Fruit Loops, tucking the box under my arm, holding the bowl in my left hand, and with my right hand, I opened the refrigerator, and grabbed the milk. I turned around, heard the door close, and sat down at the table.
With my daily morning ritual, I poured my cereal and milk and then realised two things:
1) I was actually going to homecoming. I really was.
2) I had no spoon.
And so I got up, grabbed a spoon, sat back down, and ate. Like a madman, or a madwoman. Whatever.
Dustin soon came down though, a cow lick in his hair, his eyes still glazed over from just waking up, and his outfit askew. He grabbed a bowl, and missing the mistake I did, also grabbed a spoon. He sat next to me and stole my Fruity Loopers. I didn't quip about it though.
Mom then entered the room, all ready for work. She grabbed her keys, her purse, her phone, and her sunglasses, kissed the tops of both of our heads, and headed off, leaving with the words, "Have fun, Katie. And Dustin, no making any more smoke bombs, got it?"
After hearing the garage door open and close, seeing that Nissan pull out and drive away, I turned to Dustin.
"Make me one, ok?" I didn't get any words, but a devilish smile from him. Yep, he was on board.
I stood up and picked up my things, heading to the sink. Dustin finished up his breakfast and gave me his dishes as I was washing mine, placing the dish in the dishwasher as I was through with it. I looked up at the clock as I finished and Dustin was gone. It read, 9:02.
Well, I thought, I've got an hour before my shift starts. And with that, I got ready for work. Shower, dress in khakis and a Subway shirt, dry hair, put hair up in a ponytail, put on my sneakers, and head out the door. Yes, that only took about 25 minutes because my watch read, 9:30.
I opened up the door and called to Dustin to have a good day and to try not to blow something up. I grabbed the keys to the house and to the car, and locked the door, now heading toward the car.
I was soon confronted though. Ms. Mallery was outside, standing in her lawn. Why was she standing on the grass you say? No idea. But there she was, in her 50's, and being a freakin' menace 'Oh, she's harmless, why do you think that?' you may wonder? Well, you don't know my past nor her's nor my father's, so shut up. But I can assure you, the past is not a thing wanting to be dealt with. And this one especially.
But I ducked behind plants and stuff in our front yard, trying to hide myself.
She didn't notice me yet, and I didn't plan on her doing so anyway. I quickly slipped into the car, opening up the passenger door of my 2009 Chevy Malibu and crawled my way over to the driver's seat. Weird? Yep. Creative? YEP.
I turned on the ignition, back up, and left a psychotic Ms. Devil behind.
My shift wasn't going that bad actually.
Besides the little kids throwing ham or cheese or lettuce everywhere, making me clean it up, it wasn't terrible. Sure there were a few runners today, a few hungry families, and a few crackpots; but that was usually a normal day.
My hours were 10-5, but my boss is making an exception due to homecoming, and I'm allowed to leave 2 hours earlier. Yay! I worked every weekend, and every other week I worked Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. And yes, I worked those days this week, but nothing important happened, so, whatever.
It was nearing 3:00, so I finished up this guy's sandwich. This guy looked like a senior, but I'm not sure if he goes to my school. And he was cute. He was a brunette, with short hair and amazing green eyes. He was dressed casual for a guy; wearing shorts, a funny t-shirt. His shirt was white and it said:
Cool Story Babe, now go make me a sandwich
That shirt was ironic for the situation I was in, and I told him so with a smile. He chuckled at me and, I believe, gave me a flirtatious smile.
"What's your name?" I asked him as I finished up his sandwich.
"Katie. Are you new here? I don't believe I've seen you before."
He chuckled again, sending a shiver down my spine. What? "Yeah, I just moved here from Florida." Oh, that explains the tan. Wait! I've heard of him before! But from where?
"So you moved from a humid sunny place to a sunny place that has earthquakes. Smart move" I said sarcastically. I cut his sandwich in half as I asked him," What school are you going to?"
My heart did a little skip when he said our school's name.
"The Tiger Sharks?" I asked him, somehow hoping he'd say yes.
"I go there too," I said with a smile as I wrapped up his sandwich in the Subway paper wrap.
"So I'll see you around?" he asked me as I rung him up.
"Can't wait," he said these last words as he turned and headed for the door. At the doorway, he looked back and gave me a smile, showing me once again the white of his teeth. Crap, I thought, Mr. Bines told us that there'd be a new kid. This is him! He's kind of dreamy, you know?
I checked the clock on the wall and it read, 2:58. Thank God. I told my co-workers good bye and they called back, telling me to have fun. What am I doing? I thought, I admitted I liked Mike, in front of Mike! This sucks! I then came to a conclusion, My mind likes Tyee, but my heart likes Mike. I better not think of any of this as I get ready, I told myself, so no boy better pop into my head!
And none did. I showered again to scrub away the Subway-ness, and I got into my fancy shmancy white dress with floral black lace on the left side, starting from my arm to the end of the dress, which ended nearly at my knees. I really liked this dress. Mike had bought this for me. Dang it, I thought, I thought about a boy. Ugh.
Dustin seemed to be in his own little world though as I got ready. He didn't seem willing to go near a girl getting ready for a dance, and I didn't blame him; the process was slow and boring, and I was just playing dubstep as I did my hair, oblivious to the music's blaring volume.
I put half of my hair up, pinning it in the back, and started to curl my hair. I curled every strand; the ones pinned back, and the ones hanging down, loose.
With my make-up, I kinda just kept it simple; in girl terms. In guy terms, it may have been more complicated. I made my eyes smokey black, which matched my lace. I just put a little bit of powder everywhere else on my face, filled my eyebrows a little more, and glossed my lips. Done. My last step was adding perfume; one that I didn't use often because I tried to stay oblivious to boys, but then Mike strolled along and is taking me to the dance. The scent was pretty intoxicating, but in a good way. It smelled like a mix of vanilla and mixed berries, but it wasn't overly powerful. I gave it a few sprays, turned off the lights and my curler, and headed downstairs.
I checked the clock. 4:45. Not bad. An hour and forty-five minutes for a girl to get ready. I wonder how long it took Mike. ( Later, I turned out to be shocked.)
I told Dustin that I'd be home around ten, and to tell Mom that too. I told him Mike was taking me to dinner, so she didn't have to save any food for me. I also told him that if he even thinks or dares himself to tell Mom about anything that had her believing I was 'knocked up', I'd surely kick him in the unforgiving place. That shut him up.
I wandered around the kitchen, waiting for Mike, constantly checking the clock. 4:47, 4:48, 4:51, 4:54, 4:56. And it was at 4:57 when Mike pulled up in front of my house in the truck from last week. He honked the horn, signalling me to come out, and I did, grabbing my purse, money, keys, and phone as I did so.