Middle School: My Brother Is a Big, Fat Liar (25 page)

I
stood in front of the double doors, breathing deeply. I could hear music coming from the dance on the other side of the wall.
You can do this
, I told myself.
Just walk in.

But I couldn’t make my feet move. Missy had gotten into my head, like a fly that just keeps buzzing around and around until it drives you crazy. I could already hear all the nasty things she
would say: “Get out of here, LIMPY! Just DRAG yourself right back out the door. Your dress is totally LAME.”

There was only one thing to do.

I pushed open the doors and gasped. The gym looked incredible. The dance committee had done something amazing with silver balloons and silver netting that hung down from the ceiling. And I have no idea how they got the place to stop stinking of sneaker fungus, but the entire gym smelled like Missy’s shampoo.

In one corner, there was a table loaded with cupcakes and cookies. And at the far end of the gym was a stage with a red curtain. Glittery silver letters spelled out BATTLE OF THE BANDS!

My stomach flipped like an Olympic gymnast. I couldn’t believe Missy had managed to pull off a theme like “Moonlight in Venice” in the gym.

“Hey!” Sam tapped me on the shoulder. “You look great. I really like your dress.” He gave me a huge, dimply smile.

My flipping stomach returned. It was really going for a gold medal.

“Thanks!” I said. He was looking cute too, but I didn’t know how to say so without sounding dorky. So I ended up with, “I like your tie.”

“I knew you’d like it,” he said. It had monkeys on it.

I blushed.
He picked out that tie for me!
My stomach tried to kick its way past my rib cage. I wanted to think of something to say, but I guess my brain was on a break. So I stood there awkwardly for a moment, watching my classmates on the dance floor. The disco ball sent doughnuts of light spinning around the room. It was kind of like being in a snow globe.

“Do you want to dance?” Sam asked.

“Of course she doesn’t.” The voice came from behind Sam. “Do you think she wants to limp all over the floor?” Missy stood there in her sparkly princess dress, with her glossy hair and Ultrabrite teeth, sneering at me.

My stomach finally stumbled, then fell with a
splat
. I wanted to say something, but I was too stunned.

“Missy, why don’t you go take a flying leap off a gondola?” Sam said, taking my hand. He led me toward the dance floor, but I hesitated at the edge.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.

I bit my lip. “Sam—Missy is…”

“A moron?” Sam guessed.

“Well… but maybe she’s right.” I glanced down at my feet. My skin felt cold and clammy, as if my embarrassment had just lowered the temperature in the room. I felt a little sick and wondered if maybe I was coming down with something.

Sam touched my shoulder gently. “You don’t have to dance if you don’t want to, Georgia,” he said.

His eyes were so blue. They reminded me of these pretty glass mineral-water bottles that Grandma Dotty likes to buy at garage sales. I imagined light shining through his eyes, the way they shine through the bottles when Grandma puts them on the windowsill. Suddenly, the cold that had settled over me dropped away.

It felt good to know that Sam would understand if I didn’t want to embarrass myself out on the dance floor. But there was only one problem….

“I
do
want to dance,” I said. I really, really did.

I mean, this was my moment!

I was at my first middle-school dance!

A sweet, cute boy wanted to dance with me!

It’s not like this was happening every weekend.

Sam smiled. “Good. Because you already promised you would dance with me.”

We stepped out onto the floor just as the music stopped. A slow song started.

Sam put his arms at my waist, and I thought for sure that I might faint. Instead, I rested my head on his shoulder. Dancing wasn’t hard at all—I just shuffled back and forth. Maybe it was just the scent of Missy’s shampoo mixed with the disco ball
lighting that affected my brain, but I felt like I was in a happy, beautiful dream.

I never wanted it to end.

But, of course, three minutes later it did.

D
on’t make me go,” I begged Sam. I just wanted to stay on the dance floor, shuffling around with him forever.

“I can’t wait for you guys to perform,” Sam said. “It’ll be great!”

“Great?” I repeated. “Yeah, great for
Missy
.”

“You aren’t worried about her, are you?” Sam asked. “What could she possibly do to you?”

Oh, probably nothing too serious. Force all the other kids to boo us? Bombard my head with tomatoes? Send Fabio to pee on my leg?

Sam must have seen the horror on my face, because he said, “It’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Just don’t let her use a hook on me.”

“You mean like Captain Hook?”

That was a
really
scary thought. “
Any
kind of hook.”

Sam promised and then walked me over to the stage. Nanci, Mari, and Patti were there, listening as the first band—or should I say
bland
—lulled everyone to sleep.

Rhonda rushed up to us. “LET’S BUST SOME EARDRUMS!” she Rhonda-whispered.

“Um, guys, I told Rhonda she could sing a song with us,” I said. Then I kind of scrunched up my face. I’m not sure what I was expecting. Gasps of horror? Shouting?

“Okay,” Nanci said.

Mari nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Welcome to We Stink,” Patti told Rhonda, who lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Well, okay, then,” I said.
I mean, why shouldn’t Rhonda perform with us? It’s not like we can be much worse than we are.

The band before ours finished up, and Missy announced us. “Okay, everyone. I’ve heard this next band, and let me say this: It really lives up to its name. So put in your earplugs—and maybe put on a blindfold too. Let’s hear it for They Stink!”

A few halfhearted claps. Someone whistled. Probably Sam.

But Rhonda just stomped right up to the microphone. “ARE YOU READY TO ROCK?”

“Yeah!” Sam shouted. His voice echoed through the silent gym.