Prom Queen, The (Life at Kingston High Book #3) (8 page)

“Yeah, right. I’m sure we’re going to be best friends now.” Zoë opened the door and stuck a foot out.

“Fine, maybe we won’t be best friends.” Megan gave her a wistful smile. “But at least we can say hi and stuff, can’t we?”

“Sure. Why not?” Zoë climbed out.

“Take care.”

Zoë leaned down with a sad little smile. “Thanks for helping me.”

Megan just nodded and waved as Zoë closed the door. As she drove home, she wished she’d said something more to her. Maybe she should’ve invited Zoë to come to youth group on Saturday. Or maybe that was pushing too hard. The important thing was that it seemed like she’d made a real connection with her old friend. And it seemed like Zoë had appreciated it. That felt amazingly good.

T
he first good news Megan heard on Friday was that she was “official.” Thanks to several of her friends, she’d been nominated as a candidate for prom queen.

“Congratulations,” Lishia told her as the four friends met at lunch.

“Thanks.” Megan nodded humbly. “I’ll do my best to make you guys proud.”

“Well, it must be a relief.” Janelle picked up a tray. “After all you’ve invested in it already.” She nodded to Chelsea. “And you can thank her for getting you nominated.”

“Really, did you—”

“I just mentioned to several people on the nominating committee that you would make a wonderful prom queen,” Chelsea told her. “I guess they listened.”

“Unfortunately, your competition is stiff,” Lishia pointed out.

“No surprises there,” Megan admitted. “Amanda and Hallie.”

“But maybe you’re right about them,” Chelsea reminded her. “You know, your theory about splitting the popular vote. That could work to your benefit.”

“I sure hope so.” Megan put a cap on her diet soda, trying not to reveal how scary this was becoming. What if she was in over her head? Would she end up looking like a complete fool? But instead of obsessing, she reminded herself of Pastor Robbie’s words, and remembering her sister’s advice, she held her head high.

At the end of the day, Megan heard more good news—she’d gotten the part of Golde in the musical. She wasn’t sure if it was because of her own audition or because of her relationship with Jack, but she didn’t really care either. To be participating in a show, singing with friends, and just being with Jack was an unexpected dream for her. All in all, it had been a very encouraging day!

However, she was aware that this new commitment might make her campaign for prom queen a bit more challenging. Some might even consider the musical a distraction, but she truly believed she was up for it. And, she told herself, being in the musical was a way to be in the spotlight, to make friends, and hopefully to gain votes. Really, it sounded like a win-win-win to her.

“Just because you
can
doesn’t mean you
should
,” Janelle warned her after hearing the news about Megan’s role in
Fiddler
. The four friends were spending their Friday evening on the hunt for prom dresses, but so far no actual purchases had been made.

“That’s right,” Lishia agreed. She turned to look at her image in the three-way mirror. The shiny black dress she was trying on reminded Megan of an elongated black garbage bag.

“You’re stretching yourself too thin,” Janelle called over the changing room door.

“I wish it would make me thin.” Megan poked her midsection, which was bulging through the thin fabric of the slinky magenta dress she had on.

“I think it’s great you’re doing the musical,” Chelsea said as she came out wearing a shiny pale blue dress. “I mean, if that’s what you want. The prom shouldn’t take over your entire life.”

“But what about the fundraiser?” Lishia asked. “We still have so much work to do. How is Megan going to help with that?”

“By delegating,” Chelsea said. “We just need to round up some more volunteers.”

“What do you think of this one?” Janelle emerged in a raspberry red gown.

“Hey, where did you find that?” Megan asked.

“Out there.” Janelle turned to check out the back. “I kinda like it.”

“But that’s the color
I’m
supposed to wear,” Megan told her.

Janelle frowned. “You mean you’re going to dictate what we can and cannot wear to prom?”

“No, but you knew that was the color I was going for. It’s on my posters and buttons and everything.”

“Well, it’s not your size.” Janelle did a little twirl, making the skirt flare out. “So it’s a moot point.”

“It’s not a moot point,” Megan told her. “Because if I find a dress in my size and in that color, I’m getting it.”

“So?” Janelle put her hands on her hips.

“So we’ll look like twins.”

“Are you saying I can’t get this dress?” Janelle looked angry now. “It’s the first one I’ve actually liked, and it fits me perfectly.”

Megan looked to Lishia to back her, but Lishia just shrugged and disappeared back into her changing room. Now Megan looked hopefully at Chelsea.

“Megan did say she wanted a dress in that color,” Chelsea reminded Janelle. “It seems a little mean-spirited that you’re suddenly glomming onto it too. Besides, you said you were going to get an orange dress. And you do look great in orange.”

“I can’t find an orange dress,” Janelle complained. “What’s wrong with this?”

Megan made an exasperated sigh.

“Why can’t you wear that one?” Janelle pointed at Megan. “That color’s not so different than this.” She stood beside Megan now. “They even kind of go together.”

“For starters, this dress doesn’t even fit me. Besides that, I look terrible in this scoop neckline. And finally, it’s the wrong color.” She almost added that it also wasn’t fair that Janelle, who wasn’t even running for prom queen, looked way better than Megan did, but that would sound too whiny.

“Seriously, Megan.” Janelle held up her hands. “You’re starting to remind me of Bridezilla. Only we’d have to call you
Queenzilla
.” She laughed as she returned to her changing room.

“Real nice,” Megan said as the door slammed shut. She looked at Chelsea now. “Am I being unfair?”

Chelsea shrugged. “Maybe it was a bad idea to go dress shopping as a group.”

“I thought it would be fun if our dresses went together,” Megan protested. “Then when we get photos taken, we’ll all look good.”

“It sounded like a fun idea. But maybe we all just need to focus on getting our own dresses.”

Megan nodded. “I guess so. My sister wanted to help me do some online shopping tomorrow anyway. I suppose I should wait and see what she has in mind.”

Megan returned to her dressing room, ready to give up, but then she decided to try one last gown. This one was a sleeveless plum number with a beaded V neckline. Very sophisticated. But once again, it was too tight. Her girls looked like they wanted to bust out and make a run for it. Yet the cut of the dress was actually flattering. She went back out to the open area to get a better look at the dress.

Naturally, with the extra light and huge three-way mirrors, the dress looked even worse than she’d imagined. “Nothing looks good on me,” she complained hopelessly.

Now Lishia came out wearing a creamy white satin dress which was actually pretty fabulous. Lishia frowned at Megan. “That one’s too small too, Megan. Why don’t you try the next size up, or maybe even two sizes?”

“Because I’m trying to lose weight,” she said with irritation. “I already told you that.”

Chelsea came out in a halter style silver gown. She too looked stunning. But then all the dresses looked good on
Chelsea. She just had one of those bodies that made everything look great. “Lishia’s right, Megan. You should try something in your own size. Then if you do lose the weight, you can have it taken in—in the right spots.”

“Or else you can wear Spanx underneath,” Janelle told her as she came out wearing a bright yellow dress. “That’s what my mom does.” Janelle looked at her own reflection and groaned. “This color makes me look like I’m seriously ill.”

Chelsea chuckled. “It’s pretty bad, Janelle.”

Janelle pointed her finger at Megan. “It’s your fault. If you’d let me get that raspberry gown like I wanted—”

“Go ahead and get it,” Megan told her as she turned back to her dressing room. She felt tears filling her eyes, and she didn’t want her friends to see her like this. This was not how a prom queen should be acting.

“I have an idea,” Chelsea called out. “Let Janelle try on those gowns that were too small for you, Megan. They’re probably Janelle’s size anyway. And we know those colors look good with the raspberry. Plus they should look good on Janelle.”

“Fine.” Megan gathered up the dresses in her arms, and wearing only her underwear, she carried them out and foisted them onto Janelle. “Happy now?”

Janelle laughed, pointing at Megan’s backside. “Do you know you’ve got a hole in your panties?” Of course, this made the other girls laugh too. Suddenly they were all teasing the prom queen about her holey undies.

“You’re all just plain mean,” Megan muttered as she hurried back to her changing room. This time she put her street clothes back on. She was finished with dress shopping. She
wanted to be finished with her friends too. Well, except for Chelsea. She seemed to be the only nice one in the bunch.

“I know what’s wrong with us,” Chelsea said. “We’re all hungry. It was a bad idea to shop on empty stomachs.”

“It was Megan’s idea,” Janelle called out.

“Fine, blame it all on me.” Megan came out, flopping down on the chaise next to the mirrors. “I’m a big girl. I can take it.”

They asked the salesgirl to hold their favorite dresses, then headed off to the food court to forage. However, as Megan surveyed the menu boards, she realized that most of the choices were high in calories and fat. And her Laguna Light diet strictly ruled out most of them. She walked around and around, trying to find something not in conflict with her diet. Finally, out of desperation, she decided on a large garden salad with lemon juice. She carried that and a Diet Coke back to where her friends were already porking out on pizza and other greasy items that looked delicious—and fattening.

“Poor Megan,” Lishia pointed to the bowl of greens. “That is so sad.”

“Three weeks from now, it won’t be sad,” Megan said with determination as she forked her salad.

“Speaking of deadlines—the fundraiser is less than two weeks out now.” Chelsea twisted a stringy piece of cheese around her finger and popped it into her mouth. “Let’s go over some of the details for that, okay?”

“Good idea.” Lishia nodded. “The bowl project is coming along nicely. But as we get closer to the date, we could use some help with glazing. The plan is to have a big stockpile of about a hundred bowls.”

“Is that enough?” Megan asked. “What if more than a hundred people come?”

“We’ll have a backup of other bowls,” Chelsea explained. “And there’ll be enough soup for at least three hundred people.”

“And it’s still going to be stone soup?” Megan asked. “Where everyone brings the ingredients?”

“Kind of, but with a slight revision,” Chelsea told her. “I was talking to Marie, the head cook, and she came up with a good suggestion. We’ll go ahead and have people bring the food items—just like it says on the posters and advertisements—and we’ll use some of the things they bring. But Marie offered to help us create three different kinds of soups based on different stocks. That way there should be something for everyone. And then any food items we have left over, as well as any soup, will be donated to the soup kitchen.”

“Good idea,” Megan said as she chewed her salad. The idea of a tasty bowl of soup made her even hungrier.

“It’s brilliant,” Janelle added. “In fact, I’ll tell my aunt to adapt the radio ad to explain that. It will show people that we’re really thinking.”

“Now, I want to go over the silent auction items.” Chelsea pulled a notebook from her bag and started telling them about who was donating what and who they still needed to approach. “My stepmom offered to take me around to pick up the items. We’ll do it on Tuesday, the day before the auction,” she explained. “But it would be nice to have some help setting up the items on Wednesday afternoon, before the dinner. We need to get them all numbered and the silent
auction forms laid out with pens and stuff. I’m guessing it could take a couple of hours.”

“I’ll be busy getting the bowls from the art room to the cafeteria,” Lishia said. “They need to go through the dishwasher too. Then I want to set them up to look like an art exhibit.”

“And I’m going to be collecting the desserts and getting that all set up.” Janelle pointed her fork at Megan. “What are you doing, anyway?”

Megan shrugged. “Whatever you guys want me to do.”

There was a quiet pause at the table, and for some reason Megan felt defensive. “I secured the location for the fundraiser,” she said, “and I’ve helped put up posters and stuff.”

“So you’ll help getting the auction items all set up then?” Chelsea asked her.

“Sure. You just tell me what to do and I’ll be happy to do it.” Megan forced a smile. Was it just her imagination, or were her friends treating her differently?

Before long they returned to dress shopping, and although Megan tried on the right-sized gowns this time, she still never found anything that she absolutely loved. Nothing that cried out “prom queen.” In fact, it seemed the more she looked, the more discouraged she felt.

“It’s hopeless,” she said as they waited for Janelle to finish her purchase. She’d finally decided on the plum gown with the beaded V neckline that Megan had considered. “I can’t believe I’m the only one who didn’t find a dress.”

“Belinda will help you figure it out,” Lishia assured her.

“I love the gown you got,” Megan told her.

“But you said it looked like a wedding gown,” Lishia reminded her.

“I was probably just jealous.” Megan turned to Chelsea. “And that silver halter dress looks fantastic on you. Good choice.”

“I can’t wait to see what you pick out,” Chelsea told her. “Remember to email us the photo when you find it.”

“Ready to look for shoes?” Janelle asked as she rejoined them.

“Shop till we drop,” Chelsea said. “But if we want to save some bucks, I suggest we head over to Best 4 Less. Kate just told me about a new shipment of designer shoes that arrived this week. She said there are some real gems in the mix.”

“What about you, Megan?” Lishia asked as they loaded their things in the back of Megan’s car. “Can you look for shoes if you don’t have a dress?”

“I can look.” Megan got into the driver’s seat.

“If you find a pair that you love, you could always get them tonight and hope they go with your dress,” Chelsea suggested. “And return them if they don’t.”

Megan shook her head as she started the engine. In some ways it felt like she was doing this all backwards. “What if I end up with great shoes and no dress?”