She Drives Me Crazy(19)
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From the moment I walk into the dance, my heart hurts. All I can think about is Tally and how this should have been our perfect senior Homecoming. I’m so preoccupied that I miss half the things Danielle and Gunther are talking about. There could be a wild bull chasing me down and I wouldn’t even notice.
But speaking of, there’s Irene.
She’s dancing with a group of friends, and she looks genuinely happy, but I don’t care. Danielle, meanwhile, is trying to act like she’s not eyeing the stage every other second. Kevin is up there, bleeding his red guitar, his black twists catching the light above him. He’s dressed in slacks and a button-up shirt, but still wearing his trademark string hoodie on top.
Over by the punch bowl, Charlotte Pascal is making a show of pouring little paper cups for her friends. When one of them shifts to the side, I see a silver flask in Charlotte’s hand.
I catch Gunther’s eye and nod toward the drinks table. He watches for a second, then raises his eyebrows and asks, “Feeling thirsty?”
We sidle up toward Charlotte. Before we can say anything, she speaks to us out of the corner of her mouth.
“It’s only for people who voted for me.”
Gunther side-eyes me. “We both did,” he lies.
“Everyone keeps saying that, and yet that bitch is wearing my crown.” She skirts her eyes judgmentally over my suit. I feel my face flush. “Dollar donation on Venmo,” she says finally. “Title it ‘senior fundraiser.’ Loop around the table and come back at the end of the song.”
Gunther and I peel off to the end of the refreshments table, where we pull up our phones to Venmo Charlotte. There’s been a whole slew of payments in the last few minutes, all of them referencing the fundraiser with various emojis tacked onto the end.
We loop back after the song ends. Charlotte slides two cups down the table, still not looking at us.
“Eugh,” Gunther says, taking a sip before I can. “This tastes like the inside of my mascot costume.”
I swallow some down and feel my throat burn. The taste is definitely nasty.
“Gross,” I say, licking my lips. “That’s way more vodka than punch.”
I never drink—or at least, I haven’t since the party last year—but it feels good to have something to do. The alcohol hits me right when the slow songs come on. Couples are grabbing each other to sway and brush foreheads and make out, and I remember Tally at prom last year, whispering silly jokes in my ear.
I hear Thora’s words in my head again. Was Tally really all that bad? And if she was, why do I feel so sad and lost without her?
I slip away from the crowd without caring where I’m going. The locker-lined hallway is a welcome breath of air, moonlit and empty. I sink to the floor and rest my head against the cold locker behind me.
Impulsively, I grab my phone. Tally’s Instagram Story has been updated with a post from Candlehawk’s Homecoming dance. It’s a snippet of some girl pretending to spank some guy while the crowd cheers them on. Tally’s laughter blares through the speaker, sweet and exultant.
My throat is tight before I can stop it. I tuck my phone away and wipe my eyes. Then I just sit there, trying to make sense of how this happened, how I lost Tally and myself in the same fell swoop.
I’m about to get up when a pair of girls comes clacking down the hallway. They’re swishing in their dresses, whispering sharply at each other. I don’t have time for anyone else’s drama, especially tonight, so I’m about to dash out of there when I catch the sound of a voice I’ve been hearing all week.
“I’m not in the mood, Honey-Belle,” Irene is saying. “I’ve got enough on my plate right now.”
“One dance isn’t gonna hurt you,” Honey-Belle insists. “It’ll be good for you. Come on, you just won Homecoming Queen! You deserve some fun.”
“With the girls you’ve been picking out? Fat chance.”
My heart jolts unexpectedly. Did I just hear right? Girls?
“You’re picky as hell,” Honey-Belle continues. “What was wrong with Madeleine Kasper? She’s one of the cutest sophomores—”
“You know I can’t date a sophomore—”
“Stop being so uppity. There’s someone out there for you. You just need to open your eyes and receive what the universe wants you to have!”
I can’t move. There’s a faint ringing in my chest. It’s bizarre to hear Irene chatting away with her best friend like this—almost like I’m seeing behind a curtain—and I still can’t get over the girls thing. Is it common knowledge that Irene Abraham likes girls? Did I somehow miss that memo?
“I can’t worry about dating right now,” Irene says. She sounds tired. “Mom’s on my ass about paying them back for that stupid insurance deductible, but she still doesn’t know I used my savings on cheer camp last summer. Unless I quit cheerleading and find a job, there’s no way I’ll be able to—”
“You can’t quit cheerleading,” Honey-Belle cuts in. “This is the first time one of us has a real shot at SAOY! How many years until another cheerleader even comes close to that?”
“Tell that to my mom,” Irene says.
“She’ll come around,” Honey-Belle says, kicking a heel up against the lockers. “She knows how important this is to you. Did you tell her about Benson yet?”