My Stupid Girl (29 page)

“Don’t forget David Anthony, next Saturday is
the Prom!”

17. IT’S GETTING HOT, HOT, HOT

I was secretly excited to take Lucy to Prom. I knew
about fifty guys who would jump at the opportunity to be her date so I decided
not to be an idiot about it. I would quit pretending I wasn’t looking forward
to it. I did, however, have a generally grumpy reputation to live up to, so I
just let up on the grumbling without letting on how happy I was. Jennika and
Lucy took Johnny and me to a tuxedo shop to pick out our tuxedos. The girls had
already bought their dresses and wanted to make sure their boys matched them in
fabulousness which, let’s face it, wasn’t going to happen. We already knew we
would never look good enough to have those girls on our arms so we made the
best of the situation. We made a point to mess with the sales lady. 

The girls were getting more and more
irritated with every suit we tried on. Johnny suggested renting the powder blue
tuxedo and Jennika about tore his head off. It was really funny to see him get
chewed out by his tiny black girlfriend whose eyes came up to his shoulders. It
was a sight I never thought I would see. The best part was how happy Johnny
looked. Around sophomore year he, like the rest of us, had given up all hope of
any girlfriend, let alone a beautiful one. But here we were, trying on tuxedos
in front of our two stunning girls.

Jennika laid down the law. Johnny had to
get a formal tux with an ivory vest and a blue tie that matched her dress. When
he had the whole ensemble on, he looked pretty sharp actually. Even his
freckles looked less intense with so much flash going on around him. 

I was luckier than Johnny. Lucy wanted me
to get a Zoot Suit. The one she had picked out was amazing. It was black with
white pinstripes, a black vest, and a bright white tie that stood out
brilliantly. The hat was also back, with a white strip around the bottom above
the brim. I even rented the saddle shoes and the chain. Once the whole outfit
was assembled, I decided to completely go for the look and take all of my
piercings out.

The reason was simple, and not actually
really related to the suit. I wanted Lucy’s parents to be happy when they saw
us leaving together. They had been really cool and never once mentioned my
piercings or makeup, but I couldn’t help thinking that no father wanted his
daughter going out with someone who looked like me. The night of Prom, I still
wore my normal makeup, I even added a little blue to the edges of my eyes. I
couldn’t take that part away; it just wasn’t in me. But I made sure all the
piercings were safely tucked away on the top of my dresser.

Prom-night, when I walked into the kitchen
with the whole look complete, my grandma looked like she was about to scream.
She thought there was a zoot-suited gangster breaking into the house. Once she
realized it was me, though, she immediately calmed down. She came up to me with
her old wrinkled hands and cupped my face, rubbing her thumbs where my lip
rings usually were. Hopefully I wouldn’t come home to find that all of my
jewelry had mysteriously disappeared. 

Grandma gave me a whole set of prom-night
instructions. I was to call Lucy’s parents ma’am and sir. I was not to look
down at my feet but look in their eyes. I was under no circumstances allowed to
stammer my words, but must use clear, full sentences. 

Did she even know me? 

But she said that doing this kind of stuff
would show the Petersons that their daughter was in good hands. I definitely
wanted them to think that, so I filed all the grandma-rules away. The only part
that stressed me out was that I hadn’t thought of any of this myself, which
made me wonder if I was going to forget anything else important. For whatever
reason, making this night perfect for everyone involved, even Lucy’s parents,
was really important to me.

I was moments away from Lucy’s house, and
was getting more anxious with each red light. I was ten minutes earlier than
everyone else who was going in the limo. I’d planned it that way because I
wanted to see Lucy for the first time without Johnny hissing in my ears. I
wanted the movie slow-mo experience, were the girl walks down the stairs in her
dress, looking amazing, some classical music playing, all that magical crap.
Lucy had told me earlier in the week that she was wearing a black dress and
wanted a white flower. 

I, once again, thanked the powers that be
that she had mentioned that, because I didn’t even know that I had to get
flowers. Just like grandma’s rules, it wasn’t something I didn’t want to do, it
just hadn’t occurred to me. Johnny had known, of course, so we had gone to the
flower shop together and tried to figure out what the heck we were doing. We
could have called Michelle for help, maybe, but she knew about as much as we
did about fancy shindigs. In the end, I think we managed to get something nice
for both of the girls, flowers that would help us look less like complete
idiots. 

I could not wait to see Lucy. The girl
looked amazing when she was wearing old jeans and long-sleeved shirts so I
could only imagine what she was going to look like tonight, when she was really
trying to look beautiful. As I parked my little Honda, I got nervous again and
wished fleetingly that I had my piercings back in my face. But I shook the
feeling off. Who wishes for facial piercings when they’re feeling insecure?

I sat in the car for a minute, trying to
figure out what I was going to do. Do I walk in and give her the flower? Do I
shake Mr. Peterson’s hand first or formally greet Mrs. Peterson? How on earth
was I going to get the flower onto Lucy’s dress? What if her parents were
watching and I stabbed and/or accidentally touched their daughter’s chest? 

My breath got short and I concentrated on
calming down. No over-thinking tonight, I thought. This was supposed to be
fun. 

“Ok man, get your game face on. You can do
this,” I mumbled to myself and got out of my car. Slow like a turtle, I walked
to the front door and knocked. No one came, so I tried it again, this time a
little bit harder. Then I noticed the bell, which I rang for good measure. The
door finally swung open, Lucy’s father was on the other side. He looked at me
questioningly for a moment then raised his eyebrows. 

“David, son.” He held out his hand for me
to shake, which I did, firmly and politely.

“Come in; we weren’t expecting you for a
few more minutes. Lucy’s still getting ready.” He patted my back with his hand
and led me into the kitchen. I wanted to stay at the bottom of the stairs to
see Lucy but I didn’t think it was right to refuse him so I followed
reluctantly. Suddenly remembering what my grandma told me, I stammered a “yes
sir” at his back, which sounded rehearsed. He opened the refrigerator and stuck
his head in, coming out with a carton of orange juice and shaking it at me.

“Want some?” He asked.

“No, thank you, sir.”

Lucy’s father smiled warmly and poured
himself a glass. After he put the juice back in the giant fridge, he leaned
against the counter and looked meaningfully at me. 

“So, David, I’m assuming Lucy has told you
about her purity ring.” He said it with such ease, like he was asking about
Algebra class or something. 

“Yes.” I patted my hair down against my
face. “Sir,” I added.

“Good.” He swirled the orange liquid around
in his cup for a few seconds then looked up at me again. “I think it is
important to respect women, David. There is a time for everything and when you
are a teenager the time always seems like now. As you reach adulthood, you
realize that now is very rarely the time. I am trusting that you behave like an
adult and respect Lucy’s commitment to do the same.” 

I deflated. Not because I was planning on
doing anything with Lucy, but because this was not how I pictured the night
starting. 

Prom-night opener: me getting the “sex
talk” from Lucy Peterson’s dad.

“I understand, sir.” I remembered what my
grandmother said and looked him in the eye. 

“Good. Good!” He smiled again; he seemed
encouraged. It was hard not to want to obey him, simply because he was so kind
about the whole thing. Plus, if Lucy were my daughter she would probably be
locked down in the basement. I sure as heck wouldn’t be letting her go to the
prom with a guy like me, even if I did look decent in this getup.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back, I’m just getting
something in the kitchen.” I heard Lucy’s voice and my heart leaped; I was
about to see her. Her voice sounded funny though, like she was eating
something. She came around the corner and almost tripped over her own feet when
she saw me. Instead of a fitted black dress like I was expecting, I saw a pair
of bright pink and blue striped shorts. They were so short they almost looked
like underwear. A matching blue tank top and socks that came up to her knees
rounded out the outfit. Her hair was exploding with curlers, all different
colors and sizes. She had a strip of white across her nose and the best part,
an electric toothbrush that was vibrating in her mouth, making her look rabid.
Her face had zero makeup; the soft part under her eyes looked red because her
naked eyes were so blue. Her lips were almost the color of her skin, with just
a touch more pink. The freckles on her face made her look like she had speckles
of dirt on her nose and cheeks.

I saw Mr. Peterson smile and shake his head
just a little bit as he rinsed out his orange juice glass.

“David!” Lucy squeaked in a muffled voice;
she looked horrified. 

“Hey!” This was so Lucy, breaking all
expectations I have about anything. 

“You couldn’t have said ‘Lucy your
boyfriend is here?!’’ She rounded on her father who flinched back in mock
horror. She huffed and walked over to the sink to spit her toothpaste out and
let the water wash it down the drain. I tried hard not to look at her because I
knew there was nothing particularly respectful about my gaze.

Lucy had beautiful legs. She also had a
really cute butt and right now her shorts were really little and I couldn’t
help looking. I decided to just close my eyes. Lucy’s father was still in the
room and I know he had to also be thinking of the conversation we had just
finished. 

I felt her hand touch my face and I chanced
a peek. Tried to keep my eyes fixed on the ceiling, though.

“Hey, Luce.” I smiled as I said it because
I just remembered that I had taken my piercings out and this was the first time
she had seen me without them. She wore a shocked, mixed expression; I couldn’t
tell if it was good or not. She put her thumb over my mouth like my grandma had
and looked like she wanted to kiss me. But as she leaned in I stiffened up. She
realized her father was in the room so she backed away from me, looking me up
and down. 

“Did you just get a nose job, hon?” Her
father said amused. He also looked incredibly pleased that I was treating his
daughter like a pale Medusa. Lucy groaned and pulled the white strip off her
nose. The sound was like ripping a Band-Aid off and it looked painful. 

“You’re early,” she said, still looking
strangely at me.

“I only came ten minutes early, and I’ve
been here for five…” I let my voice trail off as I lost control of my stupid
eyes. She looked so cute in those shorts. She needed to go put on a pair of
oversized sweat pants so my brain would start working properly. 

“He is right, Luce, your friends are all
going to be here soon.” Mr. Peterson looked at his watch as he spoke. She
didn’t answer, just ran off, her father slapping her butt as she left. She
jumped and laughed as he did that. 

“Throw those shorts away while you’re up
there.” His voice followed her up the stairs, which she was taking two at a
time. He turned around and glared at me. I put my hands up in the air. 

“I didn’t do anything.”

Mr. Peterson laughed and patted me on the
back again. It had to be weird being a dad, knowing how guys would look at
Lucy, and trying to communicate that to her. I didn’t really disagree with the
whole throwing-shorts-away thing. But I knew Lucy well enough to know they
weren’t going anywhere. I would, at some day in the future, be stupefied by
them again.

“Gary.” Mrs. Peterson was calling for her
husband to come upstairs. He smiled at me.

“The wife calls; excuse me.” As he left the
room he was still shaking his head and laughing under his breath. I really
liked him; he seemed like a good father, trying to balance what his kid wanted
and what he felt was best for her. Plus, he didn’t have any problems telling a
punk kid like me that I wasn’t to be touching his daughter. If I ever had a daughter,
I hoped that I was like that with her. 

I looked around the large kitchen that Mr.
Peterson had provided for his family, part of a nice house that was taken care
of with pride. I wanted that, I wanted a family of my own that took care of
itself, and a wife who would help me take care of our children. Loving them,
supporting them, training them. Lucy was lucky for a family like that, and I
could see the benefits it had on her. 

I laughed to myself. It wouldn’t have done
any harm if she'd had a sibling though; the girl was spoiled like nothing I had
ever seen before. She expected to get the things she wanted. If forced to work
for them, she automatically went to manipulation. The worst part was I didn’t
even think she realized she did it. I think it was just the way she was used to
operating. So it was hard to call her out on it. But, at the same time, it made
it okay to trust her and love her. She wasn’t manipulative for spite. Whatever
the girl’s faults, she had a heart that was bigger than anyone’s I had ever
met. She was accepting of me; her whole family was, and I appreciated it more
than I could ever express. 

My deep thoughts were interrupted when I
heard the clicking of high heels behind me. I turned around and saw Lucy
standing there but she hadn’t seen me yet. She must have thought I’d moved to
the living room because she was looking in there. I would have waited for her
in there, but I didn’t realize a girl could get ready in five minutes.