Kiss & Sell (25 page)

I was still feeling so guilty over the fact that I couldn’t tell him about my plans before the dance that I didn’t bother asking him to help me finish setting up the floor. So, I did it myself, taking two hours to do what should’ve only taken one. The few times I’d managed to steal glances at Cade, showed that he was enjoying himself with the cute brunette that wasn’t me. I don’t know why it bothered me, but it had.

When my waffles popped up, I threw them onto a plate and drenched them in a sea of syrup. It was exactly what I needed. Sugar always made me feel better.
And according to my mom, nearly all of life’s ailments could be cured with a little chocolate. So, I figured I was killing two birds with one stone.

Or soothing my sores with sweets.

As I sat down in front of our big screen TV and burrowed myself into a comfy spot on our couch, I entertained the idea of staying there all day. Until it was time to get ready for the dance, of course.

And why shouldn’t I? it wasn’t like McCartney and Phin were coming over to get ready with me. They were both still giving me the cold shoulder over the whole limo thing, although I was pretty sure that Phin didn’t even know why he was supposed to be mad at me. no doubt McCartney had informed him of the ban and he’d just gone along with it.

I laughed garishly as a cartoon character fought with sea creature on the screen in front of me. I had no idea what I was watching, but it was the perfect kind of brainless fluff I needed right then. Something that would keep my mind occupied, but not make it work too hard. I was pretty sure that it was going to hit me soon, that I was about to go to my first high school dance with someone I really liked—and who just happened to be a mega star. And when it did, I’d no doubt experience my second panic attack that month.

Yes. I’d say a distraction was definitely needed.

I pulled the blanket up to my chin and officially set my claim to the living room area. Flipping through the channels, I landed on one of my favorite movies,
Stick It
, and let myself get lost in the world of competitive gymnastics.

Why hadn’t Mom ever put me in gymnastics? Then I’d be super-muscular and able to do flips while wearing a formal dress inside a mall. And even though the girls were always busy with training, they were the most hardcore athletes in the world
and
they ended up with guys in the end. Even the bitchy one.

A little after two, I finally dragged myself off of the couch and headed back upstairs to start getting ready. Reluctantly, I shed my comfy PJ’s and plodded into my bathroom to take a shower. I turned on the faucet and then headed back into my room to hit play on my laptop. Paramore blared from my speakers as I danced my way back to the now steamy bathroom.

Once I was under the warm spray, I finally began to let myself think about what would be happening in less than a few hours. My stomach buzzed with nervous excitement. I had no idea what I was even supposed to do at a dance. Well, besides
dance. And even though it was Ryder’s first high school dance, and he wouldn’t know the difference, I still felt like I had to do it
Right
. Whatever that meant.

I had so many questions and no one to ask them to. Would Ryder think it was weird if my mom took pictures of us before we left? Was he supposed to pay for dinner because he was the guy? Or was I expected to pay for everything, since technically I’d invited him? if Ryder was my “date,” did that mean that I wasn’t allowed to dance with anyone else? not that there was anyone else I wanted to dance with. Well, okay, if Cade asked me to dance, I wouldn’t be opposed to it—but was that a dance no-no? and how should I greet Ryder when he arrived? Do I hug him? shake his hand? Kiss him on the cheek like they did on TV? and I didn’t even want to think about the end-of-the-night dilemma.

Before I could slip into full-on panic attack mode, I pushed my face under the steady stream and let the sound of the water drown out the noise in my head.

“Whoa, I never meant to break, but I got him where I want him now!” I sang, doing my best impression of an angry rocker chick.

Coming out of the bathroom, I let loose all the stress of the last few days and danced around my room, throwing my body around in a way that was neither cool nor rhythmic, and punching my fists in the air to the music. A few minutes later, I collapsed onto my bed, completely out of breath and a whole lot calmer. I turned down the music and set to work on transforming myself into a princess worthy of a royal ball.

At five after four, I heard the door ring downstairs and even though I’d been ready to go for a half hour, I waited impatiently on my bed as my mom answered it. In every teen movie I’d watched over the years, the girl made her date wait for a few minutes before making her grand entrance. And since my date was an actual movie star, I figured it was appropriate. When in rome and all that.

“Arielle!” Mom yelled up the stairs to me. “Ryder’s here! Come down and let me take some pictures before you guys leave!”

I prayed that she wouldn’t say anything to embarrass me as I retrieved the tiny clutch off my dresser and took one last look at myself in the mirror. Every hair was in place, my makeup was impeccable and the dress looked even better on me than it had at the mall. But it still wasn’t enough to calm my nerves.

I took my time walking down the stairs, partly for dramatic affect—I was hoping that Ryder would do that mouth-hanging-open, forget-to-breathe thing people
sometimes did on TV—but also because I was secretly afraid of tripping over my three inch heels and tumbling all the way down to the bottom of the stairs, effectively breaking my neck before the date even started. So, I put one foot in front of the other and kept my focus on where I was stepping until I’d reached the bottom.

Only then did I dare look up at my date.

I was happy to see that I’d elicited the desired reaction from Ryder and flashed him a shy, but broad, smile. I almost swooned as I took in the sight of him standing just inside my living room, looking more like he belonged on the red carpet than at a small-town high school dance. His tux was a classic black style and fit him like a glove. In a glance, you could tell that it was made for him and not one that he rented from a local formal clothing shop like the other guys in my school would be doing. He looked sharp in a black skinny tie, which hung loosely around his neck in a slightly disheveled way.

But what made the outfit was his dress shirt, which was a bold, dark pink.

He caught me staring at his shirt and began to smooth out the material nervously. “I remembered that you said you were wearing pink,” he explained. “Isn’t this what people do for dances? They compliment the girl’s dress? Or is that lame and I’m going to make us the laughing stock of your school?”

I put my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. What he’d done was so sweet—and brave, because when the guys at school saw Ryder in a pink shirt, they were going to tease him mercilessly—that I actually wasn’t sure what to say. Up until a few months ago, guys hadn’t even realized I existed, so the fact that someone was taking my feelings into account for a change officially threw me off balance.

And to my surprise, I liked it.

“You look great,” I said sincerely, my cheeks turning a shade that probably resembled my dress.

Ryder seemed relieved by this and immediately regained the confidence I was used to seeing him wear. Stepping forward, he handed me a purple box a little bit bigger than my fist, and urged me to open it.

Oooh, presents!

I opened the package and sucked in my breath at what was inside. Lying on a delicate satin pillow was the most elegant flower I’d ever seen. It was simple, white and had petals that were smooth and perfect. Its fragrance hit my senses like a sweet memory and I sighed with happiness.

“It’s a Gardenia,” Ryder said proudly. He leaned forward and plucked the corsage from its box and placed it on my wrist. “My sister once told me that Gardenias smelled like ‘heaven on earth.’ she used to go crazy over them when she was in high school.”

“I can see why,” I answered, bringing my wrist up to smell it again. “It’s better than perfume.”

When I looked up from my flower arrangement, I saw that Ryder was standing there, staring at me. Oh, God. Was I supposed to have gotten him something, too? nobody had told me about this whole present exchange thing and now I was starting to look like the worst date ever. This was why you were supposed to get ready for dances with your friends…so they could make sure that you were prepared for
Everything
.

I looked around frantically searching for something in the nearby vicinity that I could pass off as a present suitable for my Homecoming date. I was about to hand over either my mom’s iPod which was laying next to her purse or the framed picture of me at my eighth grade graduation party, when Mom cleared their throat behind me.

“Arielle, here’s the boutonniere
you asked
me to get for Ryder,” she said, walking toward me with a small bag in her hand.

I had no idea what a
boutonniere
was, but I was so grateful to have something to give to Ryder that I didn’t care if it turned out to be a fancy fanny pack. I took the bag from her and gingerly peeked inside.

“I know you wanted a lily, but they were all out. I had to go with a classic,” she explained.

I smiled as I reached inside and grabbed the fragrant pink rose and displayed it to the room. It was small, and barely had a stem, but it was pretty.

Boys weren’t supposed to be into flowers anyway, so maybe Ryder wouldn’t care that he got a defected flower.

Keeping the smile on my face, I held out the flower to him, unsure of how this sort of thing usually went.

“Sweetie, it’ll be easier if you put it
on
him,” my mom interrupted. “Just make sure not to poke him with the pin as you secure it to his jacket.”

I could tell Mom was saving me some serious embarrassment by discreetly explaining what I was supposed to do with the boutonniere.

She is
so
getting cool mom points for this.

I pulled the pin out of the stem of the flower, which I hadn’t noticed was even there until my mom had mentioned it, and walked slowly toward my date.

“Be careful now,” Ryder warned softly. “It’s always been a big fear of mine to die at the hands of a needle-wielding crazy girl.”

I tried to concentrate on pinning the flower to his lapel
without
drawing blood. It’s never a good idea to make a guy bleed on your first date.

“Lucky for you, I’m not crazy, huh?”

“I don’t know about that…”

I stopped what I was doing to look up at him challengingly. “Do you
Really
think that’s a wise thing to say right now? I mean, hello? Girl with sharp object here. I hardly think you’re in a position to question
anyone’s
sanity.”

Ryder abruptly zipped his lip and watched with amused curiosity as I finally secured the flower—without stabbing him, I might add. When I was finished, I took a step back and admired my work. And the guy who wore it.

“Picture time!” my mom chimed in, reminding me that she was still in the room, witnessing our special moment.

Embarrassment spread across my face and I looked over at her with questioning eyes.

So much for the cool mom points.

“We were just going to get pictures at the dance,” I said, attempting to keep my voice even. “Besides, I don’t think we have enough time. We’re supposed to be doing some stuff for the show before we go to the dance.”

My mom’s face dropped.

“Actually, Ms. Sawyer, we’d love to take a few pictures if you don’t mind,” Ryder piped up, looking at me and then back at my mom.

He must’ve seen the confused look on my face, because he moved toward me and lowered his voice. “I think the station wants to tape the whole process. The entrance, the corsage, the pictures…they’re gonna want the whole deal. I told them I wanted to go in first. Alone. You know, so we could do this sans camera for a little privacy. But I think we’ll have to go back and do it again, for them, if that’s okay with you.”

He looked at me hopefully and seemed to be slightly embarrassed at what he was asking me. I was guessing that for Ryder, the MTV crew was sort of like having
parental units witnessing his first real high school experience. And no one
Really
wanted their folks around for that.

“Yeah, sure. no problem!” I said enthusiastically to show him that he had no reason to feel self-conscious. As far as I was concerned, there was a huge difference between posing for your mom’s digital camera and smiling for a reality show taping.

“You’re the best,” he answered, looking relieved.

I watched as Ryder walked across the room, pressing buttons on his phone as he went. Assuming he was letting the crew know they were good to go, I turned and walked over to my mom.

“Thanks for getting the booty-thing,” I said appreciatively. “How’d you know I’d need one?”

“It’s that Jedi-mom-mind. I know all sorts of things. That’s what moms are for, you know.”

I raised a skeptical brow.

“Also, I was a teenager once, too. Which means I went to dances with hunky guys and gave away my fair share of boutonnieres.”

“Is that what they called it back in the olden days?” I joked.

She looked confused for a minute. When she finally realized what I was alluding to, her eyes grew wide and she shoved me lightly.

“Arielle anne sawyer!”

I held up my hands in defeat. “Kidding.”

I was still laughing as the crew walked through our front door and began setting up lights and equipment around our living room. nothing could’ve prepared me for the sight of so much clutter in our house. I looked over at Mom, expecting to see the panic in her face because of all the people traipsing around. Instead, she was smiling warmly at the crew and asking if she could get anyone a drink.

Shocked by her reaction, I made my way over to Ryder who was still texting on his phone. Once I reched him, he flipped his phone shut and turned his attention to me.