Prom Queen of Disaster (3 page)

We headed to the Salon. A hoard of valley girls with pasty skin. The girls walking out were glowing and golden. We were almost there. Amy stood behind the counter. The salon was decorated with reds and whites, the smell of cleaning bleach and lotions welcomed us in the air conditioned breeze.

“Amy!” We called out collectively.

“We’re doing tanning beds.” Char circled a hand over everyone but Libby and Jade. “They want a spray tan.”

With finesse, Amy moved toward Char. She was probably 5’11” with her red satin Manolo’s. She appeared taller with her tan legs and the split in her skirt, riding up her thigh. I was in awe; she had been a senior when I was a sophomore. My eyes made my way up to her chest, and suddenly I felt out of proportion. Dressed in a white blouse with the top buttons undone and a push-up bra to hold
herself
in place.

“Char,” Amy said, pushing back her wavy brown hair. “How’s the squad?”

“In
desperate
need to get some color before homecoming,” she said. “What’s happened to the sugar d-a-d-d-y?”

Sugar daddy?
I’d heard Char mention Amy’s
boyfriend
, but not that he was an old man.

“He’s okay, he’s not that
old
, well he doesn’t take Viagra,” she said. “I think he wants to get serious. He’s talking about buying
another
cat.”

“Isn’t one enough?” Char asked.

Amy grabbed a handful of key cards from behind the desk. “Lola is in the room at the end, she’s got a client in at the moment, but she knows you’re waiting.” She handed me a card. “I love your blond hair, Zoey.” She reached for the messy ponytail. “You think I’d suit it?”

“Like an ombré? Or full?”

“Ombrés are in,” she laughed.

In the tanning room, I’d undressed completely and turned around to the shock of seeing my reflection in the long mirror hung on the door. I dipped my hand on my hip and swung slightly. I could see where my tan had faded.

I slathered myself in moisturizing lotion. It smelled exactly like the cream my mom used on me when I was younger at the beach. The tanning beds themselves were like little tombs you close in on yourself. I’d placed the timer on for 8 minutes and listened to pop music in the surround speakers.

“Surely you’re tan enough,” I heard someone shout, knocking on the door.

I’d just finished getting dressed and wiping off the excess moisturizer. I pulled the hair elastic tight in my ponytail, watching myself in the mirror. I sucked the rest of the cola from the Chicken Shack cup, throwing it in the trashcan before leaving.

“How do I look?” I asked as Ava, walking out of the room opposite.

“You look more tan than me,” Ava said. “I
need
an extra 9 minutes and a nap.”

“Only had 8 minutes,” I said. “I just wanted to look—you know, sun-kissed, like it was summer again.” I could see Hannah from the corner of my eye.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Hannah said. She was only a little more tanned than she had been. “It won’t wash off, at least.”

The other girls were waiting at the entrance of the salon. Libby was significantly darker from the spray tan. It always lighter after you washed, but you couldn’t for 24 hours.

“Remember girls,” Char announced, rounding us up on the seats. “As of Monday, it’s homecoming week. So for the rest of the weekend, practice your
pep
, brush up on
team spirit
, and most importantly, get those lockers decorated. Naturally, Zo has Dylan’s locker, but we’ll group text the rest of the lockers.”

“You need to beat the San Rafael High School cheer squad, that’s on
you
,” Amy said. “Let them play the sports, and you show those
bitches
who they’re dealing with. Go, Marin County!”

“I heard you bleached the other cheer captain’s hair?” Jade asked.

Amy smiled. “We did.” She laughed. “We were ruthless.”

Char snapped her fingers. “Yah! Ruthless.”

Life at home was different in the idyllic suburban Payton Lane. Quiet waved me in as Char dropped me at the end of the street. My parents’ house had four bedrooms, a garage with two cars and
all
the bicycles I had growing up, and a few years ago they’d had a pool installed out in the back, they had to pull out a tree and the make-shift swing, but we wanted a pool more.

“Zo, is that you?” Mom called out.

“Yeah.” I hung my bag and jacket up on the hook beside the door.

From the hallway I could smell food, it hit like a heavy truck, welcoming me inside. The hallway led to the open kitchen, it was the center of the house, and with good reason, my mom was always seen there. She stood, stirring a crock pot on the stove.

“Sweets,” she said. “Aw look at how tanned you are. Preparing from homecoming already?”

I nodded, taking a seat on a stool. “It is Friday. Still got to find a dress.” I’d learned from
Say Yes to The Dress
how difficult it was, not only for me but for women all over America to find dresses they loved. “I have choices.”

“Tell me when you need my bank card, hon.” She pinched at herbs from the rack, adding to the pot.

I swiveled on the stool. “I’ll show you them later.”

“I’m sure I will love them.” She placed a lid over the crock pot and dusted her hands on her apron.

“Well, I have
lots
to choose from.” I poked my head over the glass lid. It had steamed pretty fast. “What’s that?”

“Beef. Your dad’s home tonight and I promised him stew.”

My dad worked as a pilot for a major airline, so he’d be away from home for days at a time, especially when flying internationally, while my mom was an assistant principal of an elementary school, mainly organizing events and fundraisers.

“Mm!” I said, sitting back. “Can you believe I already have school work to do?”

“Oh. What work?”

I hummed. “English lit, read and research. I wanna sketch something too; we’re mainly doing cubes and shapes in class, but need to think about my senior project.”

“I’m sure whatever you create will be wonderful.” She reached out for my hand. “Will there be a show?”

A hum broke in my throat. “Not winter semester, but end of year I know there’s an exhibition,
I think
.” I smiled to myself. “Mrs. Galloway said if I needed, the studio was open to me after hours.”

“Well. Good luck with
that
and cheer practice,” she chuckled, rinsing veggies in the sink.

“
Mom!
”

“You know my thoughts on those bits of fabric. But, it’s your life, honey,” she said, turning her head to show her smile. “I know you love gymnastics.”

It wasn’t a secret. If my knees or shoulders were on show, my mom was against it, as for my dad, he was indifferent, but I was his baby girl. They’d never attended any games when we performed, not because they didn’t want to, but because I wouldn’t tell them. Besides, they both worked a lot and had very little time for anything outside of the church.

My bedroom hadn’t changed a lot since I was little. It was pink, even if the shade was lighter, almost white, and everything matched now.

Dylan had texted me several times since I walked through the front door. I threw my body on the bed and laid there a moment, looking at my phone. I thumbed in the pin and opened up to video chat.

“Hey,” he said, moving his phone to catch his face while he ran.

“What are you doing?” I asked, smiling at his cute face.

He caught his breath and paused. “Coach wants us to keep fit, so taking a run.”

“You’ve been in training all day.”

He shrugged. “I’m the captain; I’ve gotta lead by example,” he said. “Plus, I get a rest day. Sooo—”

“So you’re coming over tomorrow?” I asked.

“We missed date night last week. Need to spend time with you before homecoming. We can watch whatever you want.”

A chuckle came from the back of my throat. I thought it was going to be a
cute
giggle. In the reflection at the corner, my face blushed. “You’ll regret saying that.”

“As long as I spend time with you, I don’t care.”

“Even if it’s
Clueless
?”

“Especially
Clueless
!”

“You love it really,” I said, moving the phone between hands. “My dad’s home tonight as well.”

“So, no kissing?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Maybe a cuddle—on the couch.” I smiled at him.

He raised an eye, still smiling into his phone. “I can see your tan at this angle.” He swiped his blond hair back with a hand. “I gotta finish this run. Call you later.”

“Have fun,” I said. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” he said before the video ended.

The phone dropped to my chest. I hugged it close. He filled me with warmth; not the heat from the phone, or the warmer than usual temperature of my skin from the tanning bed, it was inside radiating outward.

A paw attacked my arm. I craned my neck to see my cat, pawing my arm, a hint for me to move. Oreo was my cat, made up of black and white spots, a black patch over one eye and a white patch over the other. He was my cat-shaped Oreo. He leaped to my chest and sat staring.

“What do you want?” I asked. He pushed his head forward and licked my nose, pulling back and staring again. “If you want feeding, ask mom.” I wrapped my arm around him as he laid on me.

My phone buzzed beside him and his claws came out, nipping at my skin. “Little shit.” I pushed him away with the back of my hand. “Just my phone.” I shoved it at his nose. The phone buzzed again. He skittered away, scratching my arm again.

It was a group chat, hitting me in full force, names popped up on my screen. The topic of conversation was decorating lockers. Char was seeing Benny
on
and
off
, he was one of Dylan’s friends. I noticed his name pop up a few times, and from what I could see, a few girls wanted his locker. Benny was the tallest on the team; I could see he was attractive, but not the appeal.

Well, Dylan’s mine
, I added to the chat.

FYI Benny’s locker is mine,
Char posted.
Sorry to disappoint
.

When are you two going to be a thing?
One of the juniors commented.

On a second chat with Char, Ava, Libby, and Hannah, Char popped up.
Did you see that? I know it’s no secret we had a fling. But do they have to be so thirsty?

The shared expressions of sarcasm we’d pull when Char talked about Benny and their
fling
flooded my mind.

But you’re not dating
. Ava added.

Yet!
Char commented with an emoji of sass.

Before I was called down for supper, everyone was all in agreement of the lockers. I’d had Dylan’s name cut out in the school colors, blue, white, and black. The school logo, and some pictures we’d taken, Dylan was in his jersey, and I was in my cheer uniform kissing his cheek. Of course, people knew he was mine, but I wanted to be on public display. Senior year was the year of prom, and every opportunity to show how we were the perfect couple, was an opportunity to be taken.

My younger sister, Maddie stood at my bedroom door.

“Oh. Zo.”

“Yeah?”

“I need a book to read for school.”

I gestured to the shelves above my desk. I didn’t have much choice, among the Charlaine Harris and
House of Night
books, both of which, she wasn’t
ready for. “What are you looking for?”

“My friends are all reading
The Hunger Games
, but I don’t think mom wants me to. She said I can’t see the films.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, I have
The Hunger Games
if you want,” I said, playing the cool sister. “It won’t do you any harm, just don’t tell mom.”

“Really?” She jumped at the shelf and pulled at the spine. “Thank you, thank you!”

“Only sister, favorite sister,” I chuckled.

“Girls,” mom called again.

Over summer, I got most of my school reading in, so I’d barely touched any of my other books. The required reading list was longer each year, and I knew once school was in full swing, I wouldn’t have any time to read.

Monday was the biggest day at school. It meant spirit and pep; we arrived early to decorate the lockers. Char had an old picture of her and Benny, I knew it had been from a group photo, she’d cropped everyone else out. It wasn’t creepy for Char; it was an average day in her life.

Students piled into the hallways, filled with their voices, slowly building in excitement. Blue, white, and black streamers hung in the hallways, getting in everyone’s way, along with the pre-decorated banners.
Don’t forget Homecoming this Friday!
And
Grab your Homecoming Tickets!

A loud voice over the PA, “Morning all! Marin County High School is proud to be hosting our rivals, the Lakeside Lions to our court this Friday at 4. We’re expecting a great game from our own Mighty Marin Pandas! And don’t forget, the homecoming dance follows the game at 8, so buy your tickets, and don’t forget to ask that
special
someone.”

Dylan poked at me from behind in homeroom for morning registration. “So,” he said, as I turned. “Will you go to homecoming with me?”

I butted my lips and hummed. “That depends on what did you thought of your locker?”

“Whoever did it was extremely talented and knew just how much I
loved
my girlfriend. They just glued down a bunch of pictures with her in them,” he said. “If you say
no
, you do realize I’ll have to ask them instead.”

“But only if you win the game,” I said.

“That’s not
too
much pressure,” he snorted, throwing a hand to his face. “But my locker is clearly the best.” He swiped a hand through his blond hair.

I wanted nothing more than to have my hands combing through his hair, styling it. It was what I spent most of my time doing when he came over.

“Good,” I said, pushing myself back in my chair as he kissed me.

“Dylan, Zoey,” Mrs Parker said. “No PDA, you two should know better. Homecoming’s this Friday, leave it for then.”

Dylan gave a sloppy left-handed salute as the entire class snickered. Mrs Parker was known for being strict on school rules, although PDA wasn’t a rule, more personal preference because it made her uncomfortable. Whenever I made contact with Dylan, we were the only two people in the moment; it made my skin tingle.

The morning bell rang. “Right. Out! All of you,” Mrs Parker said, removing her glasses and waving a hand.

My favorite period of the day was gym, it doubled as extra cheer practice, or at least as far as the senior gym class consisted. We changed in the girl’s locker room, our blue, white, and black striped cheer skirts, and our blue cheer tops with MC and the design of a panda roaring.

“Oh look, Heather,” Mila said. “It’s the pathetic cheering pandas.”

“It’s gym class,” Heather said. She pointed at our outfits. “Surely they shouldn’t be skipping class for cheer practice.”

Mila was the president of the student body and the reject of cheer try-outs two years running. She’d rolled her ankle twice, both times during try-outs.

“And if it isn’t frumpy and frumplestiltskin,” Char said. She exhaled deeply and rolled her eyes. “That’s all.” She waved them along as Ava grabbed a deodorant can and sprayed at them like it was bug spray.

“I hate that,” I said.

“Should have bitched them out, Char,” Ava said.

Hannah and Libby giggled to themselves. We weren’t elitist; we would never tell someone they couldn’t join unless we had a real reason to, often it was reported to the principal because they called it
unfair
, but if they couldn’t do a simple cheer, they were hopeless. A simple,
M - A - R - I - N, Go Mighty Marin Pandas!
And failing that, if they injured themselves, what use were they? I was all for having more people on the squad, but
nobody
looking for drama.

Char was blunt and straight to the point, if she didn’t like you, you’d know, but not from the hallway three classes away, straight from her.

“We should’ve volunteered to be part of the student body,” Char said. “At least then we’d know homecoming would be decent.”

“I thought you were, Char,” I said.

“Last semester they asked, and I wanted to, but I knew I was going to be cheer captain, so I said
no
. If I were in the student body, I would need to be president.”

Among all the girls on the squad, we had three guys, Jack, Quentin, and Ant. Quentin had been at the Youth Olympic Games last year, and his uncle, Mr. June was our coach, but he’d only been our coach for the past two years, and he’d brought home the bronze at the 2012 Olympics. He would’ve competed in the 2016 Brazil Olympics until a sprained wrist got in the way.