Top Ten Uses for an Unworn Prom Dress Part 8

I waved in recognition and turned to see Kylie standing up. She dwarfed me in both height and social stature. "Promise me you'll talk to him."

I twisted my ring.

"Promise me, Nicolette. This one thing. When have I ever asked anything of you?"

Something inside me exploded. I wanted to find the mall intercom and respond in front of everyone: Ask anything of me?

YOU are the reason I missed out on the most astonis.h.i.+ng night of my high school life.

Ask anything of me? MUCH?

But staring into her h.e.l.lo? Anyone home? eyes, I bit back those words to give her what she wanted. I had a feeling that making her wish come true might be more fun than denying it. "Well, okay," I said. "I'll ask him."

Smug satisfaction settled on her face. "Great. We'll talk Monday before geometry."

Talk? At school? In front of people? Wow, Chunky sure was anxious for her man to play in the homecoming game.

"Can't wait," I said, going so light on the sarcasm I doubted she'd pick it up.

I caught up with Alison, and soon we were heading across the mall, toward the parking lot, recounting the past few minutes.

"You settle this thing between Jared and Rascal," Alison told me, "and Kylie will be eternally grateful. At least as long as she remembers. She might even invite you to a party at her house or something."

I laughed scornfully. "Now, that's my idea of heaven. A whole night of watching the two of them make out!"

Jared was idling at the curb outside Macy's. Sungla.s.ses sat over his eyes, making him look oddly GQ-esque.

Alison opened the door and slid into the back. I knew it was only so I could have Jared's full attention about the Kylie thing, but still, I appreciated her giving me the front.

"So, Jared," I said, moving the stack of flyers from the floor to my lap. "I had a heart-to-heart with Kylie in the mall."

"Kylie?"

"Yeah. We ran into her."

"Or it could be Cherry called her when she saw us," Alison piped up.

I gave him a moment to let this sink in, knowing the guy brain didn't have the same ability to process rapid-fire, random information as the girl brain. "Yeah, anyway, she wants you and Rascal to make up so he doesn't get suspended before the homecoming game."

I held my breath.

"Tell Kylie Shoenbacher," Jared said, his hands clenched around the steering wheel, "that she can kiss my a.s.s."

Alison poked her head through the opening of the two seats, and together we burst out laughing.

"I can't wait," I said.

Mexican seasonings woke up my senses when I cruised through the front door.

Uh-oh. Mom's enchiladas were to die for. But since Dad had left, she'd only labored over complicated dishes when she was upset.

I plopped the flyers upside down on the coffee table and followed the aroma. "Smells good," I said, instead of h.e.l.lo.

She looked up from a saucepan. "Hi, honey. Where were you?"

"At the mall with Alison."

"Buy anything?"

I shook my head and saw relief flash in her eyes. Slipping into a kitchen chair, I asked about the open house.

"A few Looky Lous. That's all." A huge sigh seemed to rise from deep within her. In a scratchy voice, she continued, "But remember the couple from Nevada? Whose whole office was transferring out here?"

Worry balled in my stomach. I knew she hated being a realtor, but I hated the fact that she was failing so miserably at it.

"Yeah?"

"They bought through another realtor." She stirred the enchilada sauce furiously. "I was counting on their commission. And all the future sales from their coworkers, too. I thought things were turning around for me." She blew some loose hairs off her face and then let out a laugh, sad and hollow.

"Mom," I said, feeling a well of emotion in my throat. I had to tell her. It was time. "You can forget about the mortgage for right now. I-I went to the bank and paid the total due."

She turned. "You did ... what? When?"

"Yesterday. During lunch. Jared drove me."

"Where'd you get the money?"

"The money from Grandma," I said, suddenly focused on the linoleum floor. "I knew you were strapped. And I still had a bunch left over."

"I didn't think you had that much. I mean, she only left you ..." She stared off into s.p.a.ce, then back at me. "That was wonderful of you ... really wonderful. I hate that you spent your own money to keep a roof over our heads. But that was wonderful."

"Don't worry about it."

She suddenly lunged at me and gave me a noisy kiss on my forehead. "You are the most unselfish, loving daughter in the world! And I swear to you-on your grandmother's grave-that I will pay back every penny of that. With interest."

I forced a smile, but I could feel its edges trembling. "I don't want the money back, Mom. Forget it."

"Forget it?" She let out another laugh. One filled with relief. Joy.

That struck my conscience like a devil with a pitchfork.

"Forget it?" she repeated. "Not only will I remember this kindness as long as I live, Nicolette, I may even take an ad out in the newspaper to tell everyone the incredible thing you did for me!"

I faked another smile. She'd better be exaggerating. Or else I had to hope that the newspaper wasn't available as far north as my dad's place.

I left Mom in her giddy glory, s.n.a.t.c.hed the flyers, and headed to my room. After closing the door, I slid the stack under a Lakers sweats.h.i.+rt in my closet. No way I wanted her seeing them now.

I'd paid her bills with money from the man she hated. I'd lied to her face and pretended the money was the very same I'd selfishly p.i.s.sed away ages ago. And all in the name of helping.

Helping myself was more like it.

I flopped down on my bed and was trying to concentrate on the little rocks in the cottage-cheese ceiling when the phone rang.

Alison started talking as soon as I picked up. "Okay, so Jared said something pretty interesting after we dropped you off," she started in immediately. "He doesn't think Kylie really cares about the homecoming game as much as the homecoming dance."

I sat up. Go, Jared.

"He thinks she's afraid Rascal will be suspended from the game, and then they won't be able to go to the dance, either, disqualifying them from being named king and queen. And since they're seniors, of course, it's now or never."

"Sure," I said, thinking aloud. "What do you bet she's already written her acceptance speech and purchased her royal gown?"

"Or was shopping for it when Cherry and Natalia saw us?"

I hummed in agreement. "All she needs is her tiara."

"And her king to stay out of trouble."

"Tell Jared he's a regular Sherlock Holmes."

She was silent for a beat. "Better I don't. It was just a pa.s.sing comment. And he already thinks you have some kind of an obsession about dances and dresses."

I felt blood rush to my face.

Well, of course he would, having spent so much time driving me from store to store. Hearing what was wrong with the first gazillion dresses I'd tried on, and so right about my one-of-a-kind vintage find. I'd probably babbled like an idiot.

My gaze flew to the back of my door, to the garment bag encasing the loveliest, softest, sweetest dress ever.

Aaaahhhh.

Okay, so maybe I did have a bit of an obsession going on. But The Dress was incredible-whether or not I got to wear it outside my room. Besides, there were other uses for it. Plenty of uses.

Drope it over your bed, for while you may never be prom queen, at least you'll sleep in princesslike spelndor (and avoid mosquito bites).

I shook my head as if to rid myself of my ridiculousness and kept listening to Alison, who was now asking how Mom's open house had gone. Another subject I didn't want to discuss. But these things were apparently out of my control. I s.h.i.+fted gears and gave her the scoop, including how I'd owned up to paying the mortgage.

"Did she ask a million questions, guess where the money came from, and throw things?"

"No, no, just the opposite. She totally believed it was from my bank account and acted like I was the best daughter in the world."

"Ouch."

"Totally." I exhaled, my gaze drifting to the Lakers sweats.h.i.+rt in the open closet. "So I figure I'd better spend tomorrow pa.s.sing out the flyers. Secretly, you know, to help her get more business, but without her going all crazy about how totally wonderful I am."

"Yeah," she said, and made a noise like she agreed. "I wish I could help, but my mother's on a rampage about my room. She's 'made time' tomorrow to help me with a complete overhaul. It's going to be one long day."

"Well, when we're college roommates, we can have compet.i.tions to see whose side of the room can be the messiest."

"Seriously."

A knuckled rap sounded on my door. "Dinner, honey. And I made hot fudge to pour over ice cream for dessert."

G.o.d, she knew how to hurt a person.

"I gotta go," I told Alison.

"Wait." She stopped me. "One last thing. Did you hear from Mitch?"

"Mitch?"

"Yeah, about Spanish, or whatever."

"No." I had totally forgotten about that. "And I don't want to," I added. "But hey, if you like him, I could maybe call him and set something up where you're there, too?"

"No thanks," she said, and seemed to laugh.

After I hung up I stood there for a second and took a deep breath, readying myself for my mom. Realizing that asking Jared for the ride and Dad for the money might actually have been the easy part. What might kill me was this-pretending to be worthy of Mom's hot-fudge adoration.

I was relieved to wake up the next morning to a note saying a prospective client had called and asked Mom to show him some properties. Not only did it mean the possibility of an eventual paycheck, but it made my day easier. I wouldn't have to smuggle the flyers outside or lie about where I was going.

But for some odd reason, the best part of the morning was when I opened the front door to see my best friend's brother on the step, jangling his car keys.

"I hear you've got a job to do." Jared dug his hand into the pocket of his board shorts.

A smile took over my face. It felt too big, actually. But just being near him again lit a weird, happy glow inside me. "Yeah. You here to help me stuff mailboxes?" "I was thinking it might go better if we hit some minimalls. Put the flyers on people's winds.h.i.+elds." I studied his face. "I can't pay you." "Did you hear me negotiating a price?" "You're just here because you're a nice guy?" His mouth curled into a half smile. "Don't push it." As we drove to our first destination, I sketched him a quick background on the lovely turn of events with my mom, and he told me about the big argument his mother and Alison had had.

"Alison wanted to move the room-cleaning to another day so she could come and help you." He blew out an exhale. "But when my mom gets something in her head ..."

"Oh, it's nice she tried. But I kind of like this chauffeur service, too. Especially since it's finally for a reasonable rate," I said, and glanced out the window so I wouldn't catch a look from him that made me smile too big again.

A girl had to be careful. Especially when the guy who was making her feel weird was just a friend. And sometimes, not even that. Besides, I figured Jared had simply come by because Alison had asked him to. Her version of sloppy seconds.

I was impressed, but a little disappointed, too. It would have been nice to think that he cared enough to come over on his own.

Traffic slowed as we approached Thurman Oaks Park. People spilled out of parked cars, carrying kids on their shoulders, pus.h.i.+ng strollers, holding hands.

Jared snuck me a look. "Hey, today's the farmers' market, isn't it? People come from all over ... including some who might need a realtor." He glanced in the rearview mirror, threw the car into reverse, and backed up to the curb.