The Opposite Of Invisible Part 10

"Hey, Vanessa Almond looks pretty good," says Simon. "In a scary way."

I nod. I'd be jealous of her costume if I didn't know she's probably drooling about mine too.

Some guys stop to talk to Simon and I wonder what to say to them. Simon hasn't introduced me. Of course, I do have trig with two of them and bio with another one. So we sort of know each other. I'm mulling that over.

Then it happens. Vanessa's king arrives, wearing the soda can crown.

It's Jewel. My Jewel. No, wait. Her Jewel.

He walks over to her, carrying a black rose. He's wearing the powder blue tuxedo. But. He didn't come as a dead lounge singer. He came as Dead Prom King 1980.

He fastens the rose to Vanessa's dress, a corsage.

Jewel pours punch for Vanessa as I stand speechless next to a guy I hardly know.

Chapter Ten.

Jewel drinks punch and Vanessa leans in to whisper something to him. He nods. She heads my way, nose in the air like a fas.h.i.+on model.

So this is it. This is the way it is. Jewel with Vanessa. Me with Simon.

"Alice," she says as she reaches Simon and me, "I like your costume."

I just look at her. I want to tell her Jewel's not her friend. He's mine.

Simon jumps in. "We like yours, too."

Vanessa ignores Simon. I've accidentally forced her into a staring contest. She's listening, though. "Thank you so much."

She saunters in the direction of the bathroom. Then she pauses and turns back toward me. She calls out, "Doesn't Julian look great tonight?"

I stifle the urge to run over and scratch her.

"What was that all about?" Simon asks.

"Don't ask me."

"Well, isn't Jewel your best friend, though?"

"Yeah."

"So what's up?"

"With Jewel and Vanessa?"

"With Jewel and you."

"Nothing. You said it. We're friends."

"Definitely not more?"

"No."

"Good," Simon says, "'cause I wouldn't want my girlfriend to be into another guy."

I'm officially his girlfriend? And he's on record as being jealous. Of Jewel. Not of Corrigan, who looks at me like I'm something to sink his teeth into.

This is what I wanted, I tell myself. Dove Girl, help me keep Simon interested. If I don't, I'll be alone and that will be way worse than where I started.

I take his hand and lead him to the dance floor.

The music is something I don't recognize, fast and without words. Very heavy on the ba.s.s.

Simon dances like a jellyfish, loosely wiggling in an effortless way like his limbs had evolved to work in this specific environment.

I hop from one foot to the other, trying to imagine how a witch would get down and boogie. It helps that Simon only takes his hands off me for short stints as he turns in circles.

He does that thing I've seen in music videos, where the guy bends his knees and, like, works his way up the girl's body with his head two inches from her. I try not to look too stiff.

The DJ switches to a slow song, something about moonlight. For the first time, Simon seems awkward. He's bending his head next to mine, his Nikes only millimeters from my Pumas, his middle somehow not there.

It takes me a minute to realize that he's all bent on purpose. He's energized. In that particular male way.

Under my makeup, I'm sure my face is as pink as Vanessa's dress.

I move my hands to Simon's waist. I pull his body closer to mine. He lets out a sound between a squeak and a moan.

This is a movie. I am not really doing this.

I'd almost believe that this is not real, because it's so surreal, me and Simon. Right in the middle of the crowd. But this feels too good. He bends his head so our foreheads touch. I feel like I could fly.

I put my mouth to his neck, leave it there, a twitch away from kissing.

He puts his hand on the back of my head, works his fingers through my hair.

The song fades out. Were Vanessa and Jewel watching us?

"Hey, hey," says the DJ, "are you ready to crown one lucky lady your queen?"

People do little whistles and whoops.

"I said, are you ready?"

Oh, G.o.d. School spirit. People roar, so easily excited. Simon grins at me. He doesn't know how totally turned off I am by mob mentality.

"That's more like it! Drumroll, please," yells the DJ. Feet stamp all over the Bath, creating a thunder.

"And the moment has arrived," he continues. "You've voted for your favorite costumes and here they are ..."

A whispering ripple moves through the crowd.

"Your king, Nicolai Gregory!"

Nicolai walks up to the DJ stand, grinning and waving like the President. It's hilarious.

The DJ continues, "And your queen ..."

Simon squeezes my hand.

"... Vanessa Almond!"

Vanessa joins Nicolai. She stands still, her head lolling to one side, her eyes as blank as possible, playing dead.

Their crowns are cardboard covered with foil. Not nearly as cool as the one Vanessa made.

"All right, you two," says the DJ. "Let's see what a royal dance looks like!"

There's no spotlight in the gym, of course, but if there were, this would be the moment when it would s.h.i.+ne on Nicolai and Vanessa, as the crowd opens a s.p.a.ce for its n.o.bility, then would pan to Jewel across the room as he puts on a smile. He's the date of the queen.

When he's really happy, he doesn't smile. He smirks.

Nicolai and Vanessa sashay around, high drama. If this were the prom, they wouldn't have won. But it's Halloween and they are definitely the strangest pair in school.

The crowd has opened a large circle for them, all eyes on their played-up waltz. The dance only lasts a minute, until Jewel elbows his way through the crowd and enters the circle.

He taps Nicolai on the shoulder, something you'd see in an old movie. He doesn't, however, ask if he may cut in. He just presses Nicolai out of the way, gently, Nicolai obeying. Then Jewel lays a big kiss on Vanessa.

The crowd, needless to say, goes wild.

Some girl behind me asks her friend, "Who's that cute guy?"

Someone tells her, "I always thought that guy was into guys. He's so artistic." artistic."

I grab Simon and kiss him.

The girl behind me says, "Wait. Who's she?"

The school might have something to talk about on Monday.

Simon walks me up to my door. "Let's talk," he says, and we sit on the porch swing.

I seriously don't think my brain can handle some big talk right now.

I sit and look at him.

"I just want to say," he says, "that I had a great time tonight."

He's got that dimple out.

"Me too. It was ... amazing."

"But I'm wondering about why you're quiet."

The dimple is gone. I'm not sure what he's looking for here.

"Am I?" Definitely not about seeing Jewel with Vanessa Definitely not about seeing Jewel with Vanessa, I think. I sit up and press closer to Simon.

I make a mental note: Be more normal around your boyfriend.

"You should ... get yourself to bed," he says.

I nod, put my head on his shoulder.

"I'm not your bed," he tells me.

"But you're comfy."

He maneuvers to kiss my forehead. It's so sweet I think I might just crumble right here.

"Night, my little witch." He stands and goes to his car, walking backward down our path, watching me as he goes.

After he drives off, I walk into the dark house, up to my room, and fall asleep in about two seconds. In my dress.

Chapter Eleven.

On Sunday, I sit on the couch in my sweatpants and stripy sweater. My dad is outside raking the wet leaves in our front yard. My mom is sitting across from me in the lounger reading a cookbook, armed with index cards and a fountain pen.

I try to read the latest McSweeney's McSweeney's. It's a great issue: monster stories. But I'm way too distracted.

The first thing I did this morning was whisper to my Dove Girl. "Let Simon be worth it," "Let Simon be worth it," I said. I said. "Let him be worth all this weirdness with Jewel. And whatever is happening with Vanessa." "Let him be worth all this weirdness with Jewel. And whatever is happening with Vanessa."

I slept well last night, and now it feels like I can't wake up. I drift asleep on the couch, my book open on my stomach, still halfway sitting up, wedged into the armrest.

I wake up to the smell of baking and wander into the kitchen. I touch my hair out of habit. But my ponytail's not there. I never put my hair up after the dance last night, and I think I'll try leaving it down from now on. I look more like Simon's girlfriend this way.

"Oatmeal cookies with b.u.t.terscotch chips," Mom says, "from a new recipe."