Kiss & Sell (23 page)

“So, you can see why I’m going a little mental over this dress thing. Because unlike you, I have nothing stopping me from K-i-s-s-i-n-G at Homecoming,” McCartney said, puckering up.

A noise made us turn and we watched as a pimply-faced kid unlocked the mall doors. As he finished, he looked up and noticed the small crowd of teenage girls who’d gathered, waiting for this very moment. I saw a flash of terror in his eyes and wondered if he was recalling the unfortunate accident several years back where a few workers were trampled when they didn’t get out of the way of incoming shoppers quickly enough. Of course, this had been on Black Friday, but still.

“Move that scrawny butt of yours, sawyer!” McCartney shouted, like it was a battle cry. And then she took off at a sprint toward the door, causing everyone behind us to do the same.

Before I became collateral damage myself, I rolled my eyes and began to jog too. The pimply guy fled as quickly as his stubby legs would carry him. A few seconds later, McCartney arrived at the same spot, and pulled on the handle. She held the door open for me, and then turned back and gave me her best “hurry up” stare.

Yeesh.
I’d never seen McCartney so serious about something before. In fact, the last time she’d put this much energy into something, her parents had ended up buying her a horse. And the farm that went along with it.

I forced myself to pick up the pace, and was by her side before any of the other shoppers could catch up to me. I felt winded, but McCartney didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she just didn’t care. Instead, she grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind her, unwilling to let me fall behind again.

“There it is!” McCartney shouted, like I couldn’t see the neon lights of the store with my own eyes.

She let go of my hand then, pulling ahead of me easily, and only stopping once she was right in front of the formal dresses. Then she started grabbing hangers, hugging the gowns close to her body so nobody else could steal them. I don’t think she even looked at what she’d chosen. Just took every available dress in her size. The scene was unreal.

At least I know that when the zombie apocalypse comes—and I fully believed it will happen one day—McCartney will be among the survivors. And hopefully, I’ll be by her side.

I trudged into the store far less enthused, and still not fully awake. Stopping at the first rack of dresses, I started leafing through the selection. After a few minutes, I’d picked out three dresses that looked like they might be cute on me, and headed toward the back to try them on. I walked up behind McCartney, who’d already made her way back to the dressing rooms too.

“McCartney! How many dresses do you have in there? you know there’s a six-item limit, right? and you’ve got, what,” I asked, reaching forward to eyeball count the pile of clothes in her hands, “Thirty dresses here.”

“It’s twenty-two, and I know six is the limit. I’ll just leave the rest out here on this rack and exchange six at a time.”

I gave her an incredulous look.

“What? I don’t want to have to go all the way back out there to get more,” she said indignantly. “And what if someone snatched up the one I wanted in the meantime? This way, I have my first pick.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, shaking my head, and letting it go. For as long as I’d known McCartney, she’d had her own way of doing things. And it didn’t matter if that way was completely crazy, because she wouldn’t listen to reason once she’d fixed her mind on something.

“You can go into room seven,” the store attendant said to McCartney, after taking all but six of her items. Then she loked at me. “And you’re in room eight.”

“So, do you know where Ryder’s taking you before the dance? He is taking you out, right?”

I took off my clothes and stood for a minute in my underwear and bra as I observed myself in the mirror. I grimaced as I saw how the dull lights cast a greyish tint to my skin, and somehow managed to make all my little imperfections stand out like neon signs. If these stores were smart, they’d install lighting that made you look your best. Like funhouse mirrors, except to enhance your
good
qualities.

“Um, I’m not sure yet,” I said, sighing and pulling the first dress off its hanger. I fingered the black satin material before pulling it over my head. “We haven’t really talked since we decided to go together.”

“He
does
know it’s only a week away, right? even if he hasn’t been to a dance before, he’s gotta know to keep his date informed.” Her voice projected over the top of the curtain and probably to the rest of the store.

I could hear her still shuffling around inside as I stepped out of my room and walked over to the full-length mirrors just a few feet away. Seconds later, McCartney exited her room as well, and joined me.

“Woo!” I called out as she sauntered up to me. The dress she had on was purple, with a plunging neckline that tied behind her neck. I looked down to where it extended all the way to the floor.

“Do you think Zack will like it?” she asked, looking nervous.

“Zack will choke on his punch when he sees you in that dress,” I said.

“That one’s not bad either,” she said, motioning to the one I had on.

I made a face and pulled at the bottom of the skirt. “It’s too short.
And
too tight.”

“It’s Homecoming. You can get a little r-o-W-D-y,” McCartney said, making motions with her arms like the cheerleaders.

“I have under-butt cleavage,” I said, unhappily. I turned around and showed her how my bottom peeked out from the material.

After a few seconds of surveying my rear end, she nodded. “Too short.”

“But I like yours,” I said again, as we both walked back into our dressing rooms. “I think you should go with that one.”

“You haven’t seen any of the others yet,” McCartney yelled over the curtain.

“Yeah, but how perfect would it be if you found the right dress on the first try? you’d save yourself so much time,” I said, peeling the dress from my body. “And the frustration.”

I slipped the second dress over my head, shimmying my way into it and then letting the satiny fabric glide across my body. Without looking in the mirror, I pulled the door open and walked back out to the viewing area.

“Frustration? are you kidding? Trying on dresses is the
best part
,” McCartney answered as she sashayed over to me. “And hello? now
that’s
a dress.”

This time I had to agree with her. The pale pink material wasn’t too tight, but it managed to show what curves I did have. The top tied at the neck and the material scooped down in the front, gathering beautifully, just above my chest. The gown extended down into a V, with the left side hitting my upper thigh and the right dipping down to my knee. Scattered crystals sparkled all over, shining prisms of light all around. I felt like a princess. You know, like the one in
The Princess Diaries
. Only, without the fortune or kingdom to rule.

“You’re
hot
,” McCartney said, walking around me to see the dress from every angle. “If this doesn’t get you that kiss, then I’m out of ideas.”

“This is it. This is the dress,” I breathed, running my hands over the soft material. I found the price tag and was happy to see it was well under the limit my mom had given me. I might even be able to snag a pair of shoes with the change. “I’m getting it.”

“Good,” McCartney said. “Now, back to me. What do you think of this one?”

I looked up to see her striking a pose a few feet away. The new dress she was wearing was also pale purple, only this one was strapless, tight around the bodice but poofy at the waist. Like a prima ballerina.

“I liked the first one better,” I said, walking back to the room to change back into my clothes.

I emerged a few minutes later and shuffled my way over to the checkout. Handing the salesgirl the dress followed by my mom’s platinum card, I couldn’t help but smile over having found the dream dress I never knew I wanted. As I waited for the receipt to print out, I turned around and leaned against the counter. McCartney had already changed into her third dress of the day. This one was electric purple, had one strap on the right side and a bubble bottom.

“How many more dresses are you going to try on before you admit that the first one is
the one
?”

“As many as it takes to make sure that there isn’t anything better.”

She gave me a goofy grin and turned on her heel. I watched her wiggle her butt as she walked away, aware that she was doing it on purpose. Looked around the store, I spotted a bench right outside the dressing room and made a beeline for it, collapsing onto its cushions gratefully.

If I had to stick around as McCartney tried on multiple outfits, I was at least going to be comfortable doing it.

As I got settled, I felt my phone buzz inside my pocket. I pulled it out and swiped the screen.

Ryder:
HEY, SO THERE’S A LITTLE CHANGE IN PLANS FOR SATURDAY…

My heart sank. This was the text I’d been dreading but waiting for, ever since I’d accepted Ryder’s invitation to take him to Homecoming. And yet, after all my emotional preparation, I was still disappointed by the news.

Maybe I could still return the dress.

ME:
DON’T WORRY, IT’S COOL…I KNOW YOU’RE REALLY BUSY. THE DANCE IS PROBABLY GONNA SUCK ANYWAY.

After all the planning that the Dance Committee had been doing, I didn’t actually think this. But what was I supposed to say? “I hate you, cute TV star! You
just ruined my first high school dance!” yeah, right. You played it off like it wasn’t that big of a deal to begin with.

Ryder:
HAHAHA. YOU’RE NOT GETTING RID OF ME THAT EASILY! WE’RE STILL ON FOR SATURDAY. IT’S JUST THAT MTV WANTS TO TAPE THE WHOLE THING…IT’S STUPID, I KNOW. AND IF IT BUGS YOU, I CAN TELL THEM TO BITE ME.

My stomach rode the roller coaster of nerves back up to the top of the hill as excitement replaced my disappointment. I glanced up and caught my reflection in the mirror. I was grinning so wide that I looked like a Jack-o-lantern.

He still wanted to go with me to the dance. Ryder Diggs wanted to take me to Homecoming
and
now he wanted to tape it! There would be actual proof that he’d been my date.

ME:
OHHHHH! NAH, IT DOESN’T BUG ME… BESIDES, YOU CAN’T TELL MTV NO! I’LL JUST HAVE TO SURVIVE ALL THE CAMERAS. LOL.

And if they decided to give me my own reality show and I become besties with lauren Conrad, that’s a sacrifice I was willing to take. McCartney was going to flip when she heard about this.

Ryder:
COOL! I’LL PICK YOU UP AT YOUR PLACE ROUND 4, & WE’LL GO GET DINNER, & DO SOME PRE-DANCE TAPING. THE PRODUCERS ALSO WANT TO MAKE SURE YOU DON’T TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS. WE DON’T WANT THE PAPS SHOWING UP AT YOUR SCHOOL. TRUST ME, IT’D BE BAD NEWS FOR EVERYONE.

Only, it would be worse news for me if I kept this from McCartney, considering how she’d flipped out the other day. And this was so much bigger than Cade coming over to my house. not letting her in on the fact that MTV would be taping us
and
breaking our plans to go to the dance in a limo together would leave McCartney furious. I wasn’t really sure our friendship could take it.

But I didn’t want to betray Ryder, either.

ME:
SOUNDS LIKE FUN! I’m LOOKING FORWARD TO IT.

I sent the text and then put my phone away as I heard McCartney come out of the dressing room. There had to be a way to handle this so no one got hurt. I mean, it wasn’t like the paparazzi would find out, if I made McCartney promise not to tell.

“What about this one?” McCartney asked.

I didn’t even look at the dress before answering. “Buy the first one.”

She threw her hands up in the air, clearly annoyed at my refusal to play along with her game of dress up. “You’re such a brat,” she said. “Change that ’tude or I’ll make you sit in the front of the limo with the driver, while I chillax in the back with Zack
and
Ryder.”

Crap. I
so
didn’t want to have this conversation. But I’d have to fess up to the change of plans sometime. Why not when she’s already in a good mood? I said a little prayer that the news wouldn’t ruin the rest of our day.

“Actually, I need to talk to you about that,” I said gently. “Ryder and I can’t share the limo with you guys anymore. Something sort of…came up, that we can’t get out of.”

McCartney stopped looking at herself in the mirror and turned around to face me. I flinched at the sudden movement and couldn’t help but imagine her taking me out once she’d heard what I had to say.

“You’re kidding, right?” she asked, the anger seeping into her voice. “We’ve had this planned for weeks. It’s supposed to be you, me, and Phin. And our dates. But it’s really about the three of us, and it can’t be the three of us if you’re not there, too. What’s so important that you have to ditch us? is Ryder too good for us commoners?”

I opened my mouth to tell her about the secret MTV gig, but my phone buzzed just as I was about to spill. I glanced down at my phone nervously, trying not to be too obvious about reading the text. McCartney was already pissed off and I didn’t want to send her over the edge.

Ryder:
GREAT! I’LL E-MAIL YOU THE NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT. YOU’LL NEED TO SIGN & FAX IT BACK TO MY AGENT. SHE’LL FORWARD
IT ON TO MTV. IT JUST SAYS THAT YOU WON’T SAY ANYTHING TO ANYONE REGARDING THE SHOW UNTIL IT’S ANNOUNCED. PRETTY STANDARD STUFF.

A non-disclosure agreement? if I had to legally promise not to tell anyone about the MTV thing, then that pretty much ruled out any plan I had of involving McCartney. And that made me unbelievably uncomfortable. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d lied to my best friend, and more than half of those incidents had transpired in the last month.

How was I supposed to do it to her
again
?

Ryder:
THANKS FOR BEING SO COOL ABOUT ALL OF THIS, BTW. YOU’RE AN AWESOME GIRL. I CAN’T WAIT TO GO TO THE DANCE WITH YOU. TALK SOON.