Second Helpings_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [126]
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, I’m 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 didn’t want to run to my mom for help, that’s exactly what I ended up doing.
“Uh . . . Mom?”
“Mmmm,” she said. She was distracted by the latest pictures of ittybitty 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 I’m going to the prom on Friday night.”
My mother slapped down the pictures. “You’re 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 isn’t a nice word, honey,” she said.
“Well, he’s not a nice person,” I replied.
“Then who? Len?”
“He’s still with Skankier,” I replied.
“Skank isn’t a nice word, Jessie,” she said. “It’s disrespectful to all women.”
“Well, so is her compulsive need to sleep with everyone else’s 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?”
“He’s a junior in my French class.”
“You’ve never mentioned him.”
This was true enough. Isn’t 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 wouldn’t be such a big deal to mention.
“We’re 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. “Don’t be so modest.”
“No, really, Mom. He’s Bridget’s boyfriend.”
Now my mom was stumped. “Why would Bridget’s 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 doesn’t change the fact that it’s two days before the prom and I’m still dressless.”
My mom took off her reading glasses and shook her head with pity. “Well, it’s too late now.”
“What do you mean it’s 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? I’ll tell you why not. When Bethany was a freshman and started dating that senior boy—what 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 you’d love this.”
“Well, I suggest that next time you not wait until the last minute to get a date.”
“I guess I’ll just wear jeans.” I