Hard to Get (6 page)

“But Val's not a nun,” Kelly pointed out. They both looked at me.

“Maybe you should think about becoming a nun,” Becca said.

“Guys! I'm not becoming a nun. I'm just swearing off having a boyfriend. Like
detoxing. I'm going to get it out of my system so I don't make another mistake like Dave.” I looked from one skeptical face to the other. Then I slid my plate to one side and flipped over my paper placemat, dotted here and there with hollandaise. I extracted a pen from my bag. “All right. I can see you guys aren't convinced I'm serious.” At the top of the placemat, I wrote
Val's Grand No-Boyfriend Plan
.

“What are you doing?” Becca asked. She craned her neck across the table.

“I'm making it official.”

Number 1,
I wrote.
No going out with anyone but friends. That means guys, girls, frogs, or princes.
I slid the paper around so the others could see.

Kelly read it and nodded. “So far so good.”

Number 2,
I continued.
No flirting—arm touches, cute smiles, hair tossing, etc. Number 3, No romance—no gifts, love notes, kissing, holding hands. This plan is binding for one month. I hereby swear to it.
I signed my name with a flourish and shoved it across the table.

Kelly grabbed it. “Wow, a contract! All right, Val, you're on.” She folded the placemat and stuck it inside a library book in
her bag.

“So when are you going to begin the GNBP?” Becca swiped her finger through the syrup pooling on her empty plate.

“GNBP?” I asked.

“Grand No-Boyfriend Plan.”

“How about tonight?” Kelly suggested, a little smile curling the edges of her lips.

“But your house party is tonight,” Becca pointed out. Kelly always threw the first party after we got back from spring break, and it was always awesome. Everyone from school would be there.

“So?” Kelly's voice was tough. She stared at me with one eyebrow slightly raised.

I stared back and lifted my chin. “Tonight's fine. Great, in fact. I was just thinking I should get started right away.” I had actually been thinking I would give myself a couple of days to get used to the idea, but nothing annoyed me more than Kelly in a competitive mood.

Kelly smiled and looked out the window. I threw down my napkin and stood up. “I have to make a potty stop,” I said.

I banged my way into one of the dented metal stalls in the gray-and-pink-tiled bathroom. Kelly could be really bitchy sometimes. Everything had to be a
competition. The outer door opened. A pair of Doc Martens came in and went into the end stall. I could hear the beeping of a cell phone.

At the damp sink, I turned the water on full blast and pumped a pool of pink soap into my palm. I stared at my face, made pasty by the fluorescent light, in the spotted mirror. My eyes were huge and hollow and my hair looked glued to my head. I sighed and shut off the water. I wouldn't have any trouble with my No-Boyfriend Plan if I kept looking like this.

As I pushed out of the bathroom and threaded my way through the tightly packed dining room, I could see Kelly and Becca leaning toward each other across the plate-strewn table. I fell in behind our punked-out waitress as she approached the table with the check.

“—bet on it,” Kelly was saying. “So do you want to do it?”

“Oh, fine,” Becca said with a sigh. “I'm in.”

The waitress set the plastic tray with the bill on the table and stepped away.

“What are you guys talking about?” I asked.

Their right hands were clasped together.
They both glanced up at me. Becca's cheeks grew pink.

“Oh, hey, Val.” Becca removed her hand from Kelly's. “I thought you were in the bathroom.”

“Well, obviously, I'm done now,” I said, my hands on my hips. “Do what? Why were you guys shaking hands?”

“We weren't,” Kelly said.

“You were, Kelly Meade. I saw you.”

Becca sighed. “Just tell her, Kelly.”

“Tell me what?” I perched on the edge of my chair.

“It's totally nothing,” Kelly said. “We were just making a little bet. For fun.”

Becca glanced at Kelly. I looked from one to the other.

“So? What were you betting on? Why are you acting so mysterious?”

“Well, if you have to know,” Kelly said, “I was just saying that I bet you wouldn't be able to keep this GNBP going for a whole month.”

“And
I
was saying you would,” Becca chimed in. “So Kelly was just saying we should make a bet on it.”

I straightened up. “Heck, yeah. We can bet on it.
If
Kelly's prepared to lose.” I stared daggers at her.

She gazed back at me sweetly. “I'm never prepared to lose. That's why I don't.”

“So what are the stakes? It better be good if I'm going to go to all this trouble. All-expenses-paid trip to Cancún? H and M shopping spree?” I gave her a toothy smile.

“Uhh …”

Becca spoke up. “I know exactly what the stakes are. And believe me, this is worth it. I'll show you guys tonight.”

We all looked at one another. For a moment, no one spoke. Then I reached out my hands, one to each friend. “Okay. Let's do it.”

“Yes!” Kelly pumped her fist in the air. “You're on.”

We did a three-way shake to seal the bet.

Outside the café, a pale spring sky spread over the sun-warmed sidewalk and the hesitant scent of hyacinths drifted from a planter near the café entrance.

“So, you guys are coming over early tonight, right?” Kelly said. She dug around in her REI bag for her keys. “I'm making nacho dip.”

“Wait, are you serious?” I asked. “After what happened last time?” The “last time” under discussion involved a food processor,
several burnt pans, and the fire department.

“Look, I've perfected the recipe. It's going to be awesome.” Kelly unlocked her bike from the telephone pole and threw her leg over the seat. “We'll order pizza for dinner. See you tonight!” she called over her shoulder.

“So you're going to start the GNBP tonight?” Becca asked as we climbed into the Saab.

I took a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess I am.” I glanced in my side mirror and lurched away from the curb.

Kelly barely glanced at us as she threw open the door that evening. She was wrapped in a towel and her wet hair streamed down her back. “Hey, hi,” she said, whipping up the stairs. In her room, the bathroom door stood open, billowing clouds of steam. We could hear the shower running as she disappeared into the bathroom and banged the door shut.

Becca dropped down on the red-striped carpet and immediately pulled out her phone.

“Who are you texting?” I asked, grabbing a copy of
Vanity Fair
from Kelly's nightstand.

“Logan,” she said, not looking up from
the screen. “He's thinking of going dancing tonight.”

“Tell him to come here! There'll be plenty of dancing,” I said, gazing at a picture of Robert Pattinson wearing a black leather vest.

“That's what I'm saying.”

I could hear the shower shut off in the bathroom. A few minutes later, Kelly's arm reached out and pushed the door open a few inches. The smell of cucumber body wash wafted into the room. “So did you bring the stakes with you, Becca?” she called.

“Yep,” Becca called back. She set down her phone and reached into her Kooba bag, next to her on the rug. As I watched, she pulled out a large blue velvet jewelry box. I raised my eyebrows and she grinned.

A blow-dryer started up in the bathroom. “Well?” Kelly shouted over the noise. “What is it?”

Becca didn't say anything, just smiled.

“Kelly, I think you better get out here for this,” I said, my eyes still fixed on the blue box.

“Okay, hang on.” The blow-dryer shut off and the door opened the rest of the way. Kelly appeared, wearing a pink bathrobe
and holding a flat iron with a trailing cord. She plugged it in by the dresser and sank down cross-legged on the rug. “Enough with the suspense. What is it, Becca?” She pulled the iron through a section of hair.

“I think you have that up too high,” Becca said. “It smells like it's burning.”

“What is it, already!”

Becca flipped open the lid of the box. I gasped. There, glittering on a bed of velvet were the most gorgeous earrings and necklace I had ever seen. The earrings were diamond studs, from which dangled huge double hoops completely covered in pavé diamonds. Tear-drop diamonds hung from each center. The necklace was a thick silver chain with a massive tear-drop diamond pendant, surrounded by pavé diamonds. To my inexperienced eyes, it looked as if it were the size of a golf ball. Becca lifted the earrings out first. Each one had two interlocking hoops. When she held them up to the light, the hoops separated and rotated around each other, shooting off little glitters of blue, orange, and red. She laid the earrings on the comforter, where they shone incongruously on their background of faded red cotton, and placed the necklace carefully next to them.

“Those are not real …, ” I said slowly. Becca nodded.

“They're totally real. Dad just opened up the safe-deposit box yesterday and gave them to me. Apparently they've been in there for years and he forgot about them.” She got to her feet and placed her hands on her hips. “I propose that the person who wins the bet gets to wear this stuff on prom night. If it's you and me who win, Val, one of us will get the necklace and the other the earrings.”

“Well, you'll have to wear them both,” I said. “I'm not going to prom.”

“What!” they both said in unison. Becca stared at me as if I'd just said I was going to change my name to Michelangelo and repaint the Sistine Chapel. “How can you not go to prom?”

I shrugged, trying to look as if I didn't care. “I don't see how I can. The GNBP isn't over until after prom. Remember? Prom's in less than a month.”

“Oh, right.” They fell silent.

“I know! You could go stag and meet us there,” Becca suggested after a minute.

“I wouldn't be able to dance,” I argued.

“No, you could dance with us. Just no
slow dances. It's the
guys
that are off-limits, not the dancing.”

“That's true …, ” I said slowly. “I don't know, though …”

Becca silently held up the earrings in one hand. The necklace dripped from her other. The diamonds glittered.

“Okay, I'll go,” I said.

“Yeah!” Kelly cried. She threw her arms around me, then picked up the earrings and, moving over to the mirror in the corner, slipped them into her ears. She gazed at her reflection for a long moment, turning her head one way, and then another, then looked at us. “What do you think?”

“Wow,” I said. “You look like Blake Lively at the Emmys.”

She grinned and looked back at herself. “Okay,” she said, taking the earrings out and laying them back on the bed. “It's a deal. Whoever wins gets to wear the bling to prom. But I think we're being a little too nicey-nice here, ladies. What about something for the person who
loses
?”

We considered this. “Okay, fine,” I said. “What are you thinking?”

A wicked little grin spread across Kelly's
lips. Without answering, she crossed the room to her walk-in closet and flicked on the light. She went in, and Becca and I listened in silence to the rustling of fabric. Then she emerged with something large and purple in her arms.

“What the heck is that?” Becca asked. Kelly threw the bundle on the bed.

“Take a look,” she said, pointing. I got to my feet and shook the bundle out. “It's a dress,” I said, holding it up. “A—”

“Really, really ugly dress,” Becca finished for me. We both stared at the thing like we were gazing at a nasty car accident. It was blindingly bright purple, with a long taffeta skirt that was held out stiffly by black tulle petticoats underneath. The bodice was high-necked, with more black lace around the collar. Long sleeves with giant puffy shoulders finished it off.

“I got it at the thrift store for last year's Halloween but I wound up going as Dana Torres, remember?”

“Vaguely,” I replied, my eyes still fixed on the dress. It was so breathtakingly hideous, I just couldn't look away. “Are you saying … ?”

Kelly nodded. “Exactly. Not only does
the winner wear the diamonds to prom but the
loser
wears this.”

I let the dress crumple back onto the bed.

“And these shoes.” She threw a pair of matching bright-purple fake leather pumps onto the bed.

“Wait, what happens if Becca and I lose?” I asked. “There's only one dress.”

Kelly frowned. “Yessss, that is a problem.” She thought for a minute, tapping her finger on her cheek. Then her face lit up. “I've got it. One of you wears the dress for the first half of prom, and one of you for the second.”