Prom Kings and Drama Queens (14 page)

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Carly Kendrick’s family owned a fleet of limousines, among other things, and was even wealthier than Austin’s family. They gave tons of money to the school, and Carly was handsomely rewarded with leadership positions and coveted roles in musicals. Despite the fact that she couldn’t carry a tune—even if it was tucked inside her Burberry bag. Ethan was a favorite of the administration because he was a champion debater.

Anyone who could fill the hallway cabinets with trophies always had an edge.

I dropped my forehead into my hands. “We are so doomed.”

Daniel frowned. “I didn’t figure you for someone who would give up that easily.”

I looked down at my notebook and then over at Daniel’s. “What do we have? You’ve got a shopping list and I’ve got . . .” I opened my notebook to where I’d written, “
The History of Proms
.”

“The history of proms?” Daniel said, his voice stink-ing of sarcasm. “What is this, an AP course? That’ll really grab the few people who actually read the articles instead of just scanning for sports scores.” I looked down at the words. “It sounded like a good idea last night when I wrote it.”

I didn’t want to tell Daniel that after I left Brian’s house, everything sounded like a good idea. I could have written “Serial Killers and Proms” and it would 136

have sounded absolutely brilliant to me. Then I remembered why I had written about the history of proms.

Lily mentioned they hadn’t had proms in her day. I was just about to explain my idea, when Ms. Keenan came back. “Ready?” she said.

Daniel ripped the page out of his notebook and handed it to her. “It’s about the gross materialism of prom.”

Ms. Keenan nodded.

I tore the page out of my notebook and almost flung it at her. “And the history of it,” I added. “How prom has changed over the years to become this gigantic, expensive ritual.” Then I heard Lily’s voice in my head and proceeded to spout off the top of my head. “But we can’t just write it and make people feel guilty. We have to tell them what they can do about it.” Daniel’s eyes widened and he mouthed, “What?”

“You’ve raised a very good point,” Ms. Keenan said.

I gave Daniel a smug smile.

Then she continued, “Good journalism should inspire readers. So what suggestions will you have for them?” My eyes met Daniel’s and we both stared blankly for a minute.

“Suggest they skip the junior prom altogether,” Daniel blurted.

Now it was his turn to return the smug smile as my mouth dropped open. “Are you crazy?” I said.

137

“That would certainly make a statement,” Ms.

Keenan said. “But how many people do you think would go along with that?”

I shrugged. “About three. You can’t ask kids to give up the prom.” Or ask me to give up my chance of going to the prom with Brian Harrington.

“It’s just the
junior prom
,” Daniel said. “It’s not like we’re suggesting everyone go crazy and give all their possessions to the poor. They’ll have next year’s prom to do it up big.”

Ms. Keenan turned to Daniel. “I don’t know. Emily does have a point. You can’t ask your fellow classmates to give up the prom entirely. But you could suggest a less expensive, alternative prom—I’ve heard about kids from other schools doing that.” Ms. Keenan paused.

“But I’m still not sure what kind of statement you’d be making.”

“And even if kids spend less money on an alternative prom, what good would it do?” Daniel said. “They’d just spend it on other stuff.”

There was no going back now and I suddenly had an idea. “We could make it a fund-raiser. We’ll sell tickets and use some of the money for our alternative prom and donate the rest to a good cause.” Daniel’s face brightened. “We could give the money to Mount Saint Mary’s Nursing Home—for their own prom.”

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Ms. Keenan smiled. “Sounds like a plan. You’ve got till Wednesday to work out all the details and write the article.” Then she put a hand on each of our shoulders.

“Good work, you two.”

Everything had happened so fast, I wasn’t sure what Daniel and I had agreed to. I was glad it sounded so impressive, but I wasn’t sure how we were going to pull the whole thing off. My eyes followed Ms. Keenan over to Ethan and Carly. I didn’t know what angle they’d come up with, but I was pretty sure canceling the junior prom wouldn’t be it.

I was trying to read their lips when Daniel tapped me on the shoulder. “Do you realize what we’ve done?” I glared at him. “What do you mean
we
? Skip the junior prom? What were you thinking?” Daniel cocked his head. “Oh yeah. Blame it all on me, Miss Brownnoser. What was that whole thing about how we need to tell people what to do about it and not just make them feel guilty? We never discussed
that
together.”

I lowered my eyes. I didn’t want to tell him I’d gotten the idea from Brian’s grandmother. Instead, I said,

“Remember the night we got arrested? You were starting to agree with me that sometimes it’s a journalist’s job to take action, right?”

Daniel narrowed his eyes. “I guess we have no choice now, do we?”

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We ignored each other’s presence as we sat, jotting ideas down in our notebooks. I could hear the scratch-ing of Daniel’s pen taunting me.

“Okay,” he said. “How about this for a lead?” He read it aloud: “‘For years Crestview Cougars have been spending thousands of dollars on the junior prom. Now it’s time to spend it on the senior prom. No, not that senior prom. The real seniors over at Mount Saint Mary’s Nursing Home.’”

“It’s clever,” I said. “But do we even know they’d want a prom?”

“Ten bucks says they’d love it,” Daniel said. “Did you see how excited they were when we played the piano?

And we sucked.” He folded his notebook and stuck it in his backpack. “Ms. Keenan,” he called across the room.

“Emily and I are leaving to do research for the article.

Okay with you?”

Ms. Keenan smiled and waved.

How did he get away with that stuff?

“Where are we going?” I demanded as I followed Daniel into the parking lot.

“To win me ten bucks.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “I didn’t take that bet.”

“Okay, you’re right. But we’ve got to get going on this. The prom’s in less than three weeks. We can’t ask people to give it up unless we’ve got a definite plan.” I slid into the front seat of Daniel’s car and wondered what I was getting myself into.

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y y y

“You’re doing what?” my dad said.

I scooped some black beans on top of the rice that was already in my dish. “An alternative junior prom,” I said. “We set it all up today with the people at Mount Saint Mary’s. We’ll split the money we make in ticket sales to finance a junior prom for Crestview and another one for the residents at the nursing home.” My dad shook his head. “I don’t know.” As an accountant, my father is a very practical man.

He thinks in terms of profits and losses and I’m sure the words “alternative prom” read “big loss” to him.

“You know, the school could lose money on this.

They have accounts with hotels and caterers and pho-tographers . . .”

“But it’s for charity,” I said. “The school should be happy about that.”

My father laughed. “The school is a business, Em.”

“Well, I think it’s a great idea,” my mom said. “Your father forgets when he was in college, he was an activist.”

“Really?” I said. I’d seen pictures of my father with long hair and funny, wire-rimmed glasses, which were very un-accountant-like, but I’d never heard about any type of activism. “What did you do?” My parents looked at each other and then over at my brother and me. “I guess it’s okay to tell you now,” my father said. “I was arrested at a sit-in, trying to close a 141

draft board. We were protesting the Vietnam War.”

“Wow!” my brother shouted. I was pretty sure he had no idea what a draft board was, but the thought of my father getting arrested seemed way cool to him. He looked at my mom. “And you got mad at me last week because my book report was a week late?” My mother put down her chicken wing and frowned at him. “That was procrastination—not politics.” She turned to me. “If you really believe in this, I think you should do it.”

My father must have gone into a reverie about the good old days because after a few minutes he agreed with her. “You can even use the backyard for the alternative prom,” he said. “One of my clients has a party company; maybe I can get him to donate a tent and some tables and chairs.”

My mother pointed to the chicken, rice, beans, and fried bananas on the table. “Casa Pollo is a client of mine. I’m sure they’ll donate the food for such a good cause.”

“Great,” I said. “But I want to hear more about Dad’s arrest.”

My father wiped his chin with a napkin. “Maybe another day.”

My mother began to clear the table. “I’m really proud of you,” she said. “Remember how you told me one time that you wanted to take the world by storm?” 142

I looked up and caught a glimpse out the kitchen window behind her. Brian was out there shooting baskets with Luis and Austin. “Speaking of storms, can I take a rain check on this conversation?” I said. “I’ve got to tell Brian something.”

My mother smiled. “Just don’t be long. I’ve got the feeling homework hasn’t exactly been a priority these days.”

Was it that obvious? As I walked across the yard, the tips of the tall grass stung my ankles.

Brian tossed the ball to Luis and met me halfway.

“Hey,” I said. “Still practicing, huh?”

“Getting ready for the big game.”

“Great,” I said. I had no idea what team they were playing. I just knew it was somewhere in the middle of the state and Brian would be away for the weekend. “I wanted to let you know that I gave Captain Miguel your grandmother’s phone number today,” I said.

“You did? When did you see him?”

“I was on my way to research an article for the school newspaper and passed by the place where the
Conga
Queen
docks. I took a chance and stopped. The captain was there so I gave him the number.” I avoided mentioning I was with Daniel at the time. “I don’t know if you want to tell Lily. Maybe you want her to be surprised.” My sentences were punctuated by the sound of the basketball hitting the backboard every few seconds.

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“Wow,” Brian said. “Grams on a date. That should put my mother over the edge. She’s been trying to get Grams to stop dancing in the backyard for a couple of years. This’ll give them a whole new thing to argue about.”

“Will it be a problem?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. But I’m out of it, so it’s okay.” I nodded. “Well, good, then. I’ll let you get back to your game.”

“Thanks,” he said and then added with a smile,

“Maybe we can get together later.”

I hesitated. Daniel and I had only two more days to get the alternative prom details worked out and write the story. But finally, after all this time, I had a chance with the boy next door! What a choice: Brian and his abs or Daniel and his arrogance. But a deadline was a deadline. “I’ve got a lot of homework tonight. Maybe tomorrow night?”

“Sure,” Brian said. He actually looked a little disappointed.

“So Frances seemed pretty excited about the nursing home prom,” I said, kicking off my shoes and plopping down in front of the computer. After our trip to Mount Saint Mary’s, Daniel and I had agreed to work on the article together over the phone.

“Told you she would,” he said.

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I ignored his told you so. “You realize we now have to write the article and then plan two proms?”

“We can do it,” Daniel said. “You want to type and we’ll write it together now?”

It wasn’t my idea of a fun night, given the alternative, but it was what I had to do. I was surprised at how quickly the time went. And I had to admit, despite Daniel’s puns, he was a pretty good writer. By the time I looked at the clock, it was almost midnight. We’d gotten all the details worked out and a rough draft of the article written. We planned to polish it the next day and turn it in on Wednesday. Then set the wheels in motion for the Support-the-Alternative-Prom campaign.

I was one step closer to my master plan. My dream of being Brian Harrington’s prom date actually had a shot at coming true, but so what if we didn’t go to the regular prom together? We’d be the king and queen of the alternative prom.

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SIXTEEN

Emily’s Direction Uncertain

The next night, I found myself standing next to Lily in front of a closet full of polyester pants and shiny tops.

“They sparkle when the boats shine their lights on me,” she explained.

“I’m sure the captain will like any of these,” I said, feeling as if I were suddenly starring in a reality show called
Style for Seniors
. The captain had wasted no time getting in touch with Lily. Their Sunday dinner date was already planned.

“You’ll look great, Grams,” Brian said from the couch.

It wasn’t like I didn’t want Lily to look nice, but I couldn’t wait to be alone with Brian. I pulled out a pair 146