Miss Match (16 page)

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Authors: Wendy Toliver

BOOK: Miss Match
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Maddie doesn’t move.

10:25.

“I’m not budging unless you come in
with me.” She pulls down the visor mirror and sticks the flower back in her hair.

10:26.

She refreshes her lipstick and smacks her lips.

10:27.

My heart is beating like crazy. Is Maddie serious? Is she going to miss the homecoming-queen announcement over this? Whatever
this
is?

What
is
this, anyway? Why’s she so resolute about me going inside?

10:28.

I slap my steering wheel. “Okay. Okay. I’ll go. You win, Maddie.”

She claps her hands together. “Super!”

I slip off my sneakers and put on my silver strappy sandals. Thank God I didn’t come in my pajamas.

Fifteen

Maddie and I sprint through the gym hallway and into the gym, where sure enough Mr. Green, the principal, is up on the stage, tapping the microphone. “Testing, one, two, three. Can you hear me?”

A lukewarm “yes” comes from someone on the dance floor. I duck behind Maddie, majorly embarrassed to be at my high school homecoming dance (a) in jeans and (b) dateless.

Maddie’s totally in her element, though, and she sashays into the rainforest-decorated gymnasium with her flowery head held high. She’s instantly swarmed by the Beautiful People, who are even more becoming than usual in their homecoming finery. I take a
quick look around, but I don’t see Derek. He’s probably right here somewhere, hidden by the beefy football dudes.

I know I vowed to love myself, to be happy in my own skin. But I can’t help wondering what it would be like to be Maddie, always the center of attention. I raise my eyes to the vine-covered ceiling, focusing on a cluster of black and white monkeys and next on some gigantic crepe-paper flowers.

Mr. Green’s gravelly voice brings my attention back to earth. “It’s my great pleasure to announce Snowcrest’s homecoming queen.” The band’s drummer goes crazy until Mr. Green shoots him a glare and says, “That’s enough!” out of the corner of his mouth.

The gym is eerily silent, the anticipation as thick as Mr. Green’s glasses. Maddie and Kennedy exchange
may the best woman win
smiles, but they’re probably thinking something more like,
I hope you wore waterproof mascara tonight, because you’re gonna be bawling like a baby when I win, loo-zah.

“Madelyn Finnegan!”

The room explodes into applause and whistles, hoots and cheers.

Yep, I’m doing it too. I might have always been jealous of my perfectly pretty, peppy, popular sister, but I’m her sister all the same. And this is her crowning moment. Literally. “Yay, Maddie!”

I have to give the girl credit. She is the proverbial homecoming queen. She squeals, covers her mouth with her quivering hands, blinks her long-lashed eyes in utter disbelief, and glides through the celebratory crowd dazed and glamorous.

As Maddie approaches the podium, Kennedy’s face reddens, despite her unseasonably dark tan. Her mouth is all twitchy, like it can’t figure out whether to smile or frown. Her left eye is twitching, too. Ah, well. At least her hair looks terrific.

Once on stage my sister pulls the mic down within reach and, like Reese Witherspoon accepting her Best Actress Oscar, pauses a moment to take it all in. “I honestly am at a loss for words,” she says, all breathlessly. “This has got to be the best day of my life. I can’t thank you enough for giving me this honor.” Her bejeweled hand covers her heart. She takes another moment to adjust her shiny new crown, and then in her bubbly cheerleader voice says, “Thank
you, Snowcrest!” followed by, I’m sorry to say, her famous spirit fingers.

With everybody cheering so loudly, it takes me a moment to realize someone’s calling my name. I spin around and there’s Derek, still in his dapper suit. Still smelling like old-man-drugstore-cologne heaven. Still so cute he makes my heart flip-flop.

“I didn’t realize you were coming,” he says, his dark blue eyes twinkling when the tinselly “rain” streamers catch the light just right.

“Me either.” I nod to my sister, who’s now standing to the side as Kevin comes up to give his homecoming-king speech. “She forced me. Probably so I could give her the full report about what people were saying about her while she was soaking up the royalty spotlight.”

Derek laughs. “Well, she wears it well. The crown, that is.”

“Yes, indeed.”

Kevin escorts Maddie down from the stage, and the band breaks into a slow song. I smirk. “Ah, how sweet. The homecoming royalty dance.”

The crowd parts like the Red Sea, giving the newly crowned couple plenty of room
to sway back and forth in each other’s arms. I watch them for a moment and then look closer.

What’s going on?

Maddie lays her head on Kevin’s chest and he brings her in closer. Something is swirling and whirling all around them. Not something I can see, exactly—but definitely something I can
feel
. It’s like an aura or an orb or something. It’s like…

Oh. My. God.

How could I have been so blind?

It’s so
obvious!
Maddie and Kevin are totally…
perfect
together.

Derek is watching them too. His forehead is crinkled, but when he notices me staring at him, he smiles. Does he see it too?

Maddie and Kevin dance right up to us, and Maddie grabs my hand. She brings me in close, and Kevin steps back, giving us a sisterly minute. “Derek’s the one who wanted you here, Sasha,” she whispers in my ear. “He talked about you all night, nonstop.”

I stare at her, flabbergasted.

“Ask him to dance already.” And with that she gives me a little shove in Derek’s
direction and promptly reclaims her king. Others are coupling up and hitting the dance floor.

“Hi,” I say, suddenly bashful around Derek.

“Hi.”

We both speak at the exact same time, “Do you want to…” and start laughing.

He takes my hand. “Dance?”

We take a few steps out onto the dance floor, and he wraps his arms around my back. I reach around his neck and sway with him, with the music, with the sea of dancing bodies surrounding us. He pulls me in so close I can feel his boutonniere squishing against my shoulder.

I’m suddenly all too aware that I’m at homecoming with my sister’s date, that this is the boutonniere she bought for him. That he’s all dressed up and looking so amazingly hot not to be with me, but to be with Maddie.

Yet somehow, this just feels…so
right
. Like Maddie was just the person who got him here, and I was supposed to show up and be his date all along. Like it was planned or something. Like it was our…destiny.

Derek says, “You look like something’s
bothering you. Is it my dancing? What are you thinking about?”

“Um, well…I…” Not my most eloquent moment by far. But thankfully Yas and Brian twirl over to us before I make more of a fool of myself.

“I’m so glad you decided to come, Sasha,” Yasmin practically screams, her crimson dress fluttering around her even after the twirl ends. “And look at you!” She tugs me away from Derek and looks me up and down. “You’re positively adorable. So
au courant
in jeans. I wish I would’ve thought of it! You’ll definitely get Best Dressed in the homecoming section of the yearbook, Sasha.”

I can’t help but gloat. Yas thinks
I’m
au courant? Wow!

“Well, I’d better let you two get back to your dance,” she says, grabbing Brian’s hand. Brian’s looking awfully sweaty and worn out already. But that’s the deal you make when you take dancing-queen Yasmin to a school dance. That girl doesn’t do breaks. Yas winks at me as she leads Brian to the center of the floor, and I wink back.

“So, Sasha, what’s bothering you?” Derek asks when we’re alone again. Well, as alone as two people can be on a crowded
dance floor. “You’re not getting off that easy.”

“I guess I was just thinking about how weird this is. You and me dancing together. I mean, you’re my sister’s date, and I wasn’t even coming, and…” I lift my head and search for Maddie. She’s still burrowing into Kevin’s chest, looking completely and utterly in love.

“And it all worked out, huh?” Derek finishes for me. He lifts my chin and gazes into my eyes.

I swear, my heart is beating so fast I think I might be having a heart attack. I stop dancing. Which is good, I guess, because the song’s over. “You mean you don’t mind?”

“No, it’s okay that you’re stepping on my toes. I’m sure it’s just a temporary arrangement.”

Positive that my face is bright red, I step back. “Oops. Sorry about that. It’s just…”

“Yeeeees?”

God, why does he have to have such an incredible smile? Doesn’t he know it’s impossible for a girl to think straight when he’s doing that?

The band launches into a hip-hoppy song, and a fresh group of kids hits the dance
floor. Derek and I keep getting bumped, and I have to raise my voice in order to be heard. “You don’t mind hanging out with me when you could be with Maddie?”

Derek takes my elbow and escorts me to the sanctuary of the punch bowl. I can’t get a good look at his face, so I have no clue what he’s thinking. He takes two cups, fills them halfway, and hands me one. “Let’s grab a table,” he says, as if I hadn’t just asked him about Maddie. We make our way to an empty table by a huge cardboard tree. I stretch my neck to see him over the plastic birds-of-paradise centerpiece.

“You’re not getting off that easy, Derek. Why are you hanging out with me when you could be with my sister?”

He gulps the last of his punch and sets the cup down on the blue foil–topped table. “Maddie’s beautiful, and that’s why I liked her at first.”

Well, duh,
I want to say. But I refrain.

“Then I got to know her, and I thought she was really nice. Pretty smart, too. She’s finally getting algebra.”

My heart drops all the way down to my silver strappy sandals. What was I thinking? Derek still likes Maddie. And from the
sound of it he likes her a whole heckuva lot. I quaff the watered-down punch, hoping to hide any disappointment that might be registering on my face.

“Sasha?”

“Mmm?” I mumble from behind my cup.

“It’s empty. You can put the cup down.”

“Oh, right.” I set the cup on the table, next to his, and shift my eyes to the dance floor. Everybody’s having such a great time out there. Maddie’s surrounded by her popular friends, Kevin beaming at her side. Yasmin is shaking her stuff as close to the band as possible, and Brian looks like he’s doing a pretty decent job keeping up with her. Atta boy.

See, Miss Match? Look how happy everybody is. Love is a good thing.

It’s just that it keeps happening for everybody else. Everybody but me.

Derek leans forward and puts his hand on mine. “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, I do. Does he know I have a crush on him? Does he know I had that lapse of sanity, when I actually thought he might like me back?

“Listen, Sasha. I know I missed the basket last night,” he says.

I bite my lower lip. “You do?”

“I missed it on purpose.”

It takes a few beats for what Derek has just said to sink in. “I don’t get it,” I say.

“It wasn’t Maddie I wanted.”

Huh?

“It wasn’t?” I ask when my mouth finally functions. Did someone turn up the thermostat or something? Why is it all of a sudden so freaking hot in here?

“Nope. Maddie’s great and everything, but I’m afraid she’s just…not my type.”

“Not your type?” I say, sounding like a stupid parrot or something. “Maddie’s
every
guy’s type.”

Derek shrugs. “I don’t have chemistry with her. I have it with
you
.”

Chemistry? Is he talking about the class? Or…actual
chemistry
? Like the magic when two people meet and fall in love? Does he think we have the connection that Holly and Paul have in
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
, or Princess Ann and Joe in
Roman Holiday
? Oh, God. My heart is beating like crazy just thinking about it.

Derek tugs at his tie. “Is it hot in here, or what? How about we get some fresh air?” He scoots his chair out and stands up, offering me his hand. He escorts me to the
eastern exit, turning heads in the process. Then he opens the door for me and does a little bow as I join him in the vacant hall. Despite the muffled music from the gym and the tinny sound of rain on the roof, everything is so still and quiet. I pray he can’t hear my heart pounding.

I take a deep breath, conjuring up my Miss Match bravery. After all, being bashful might be demure and charming and all that good stuff, but it sure wastes a lot of time. And I want to get to the bottom of this, pronto. I take a step closer to him, close enough to detect a slight red punch-mustache on his upper lip. What would it be like to kiss that punch-mustache?
Mmmmm.

Before I get too carried away with my little fantasy, I take another breath and blurt, “Are you saying you have a
thing
for me?” Argh. That didn’t come out right. I sound like a freaking fourth-grader or something. But at least I got it out, right?

Derek nods. That’s it. He
nods
.

He has a thing for me? Can this really be happening? Might as well double-check. You know, just to make sure.

“So let me get this straight—” Before I utter another word, Derek presses his finger on
my lips and escorts me out the door into the student parking lot. We stand at the top of the stairs, the overhang sheltering us from the pouring rain. Derek sheds his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. Then he wraps me in his arms and squeezes me against the warmth of his chest. His breath tickles the top of my head, little water puddles forming at our feet.

“Sasha, there’s something you need to know about me.”

I look up at him. His blue eyes are piercing into mine, demanding my full attention. I’m at once excited and nervous. Please don’t say something horrible, Derek. I’m ready for something good to happen in my life. Something
really
good.

“I believe in making my own destiny.”

“So get on with it, Tex,” I whisper, slowly leading him into the rain.

He trails his finger along my jaw, making my knees shake. Then he tilts my chin up and presses his lips against mine. Oh, wow. Oh, WOW.

All the kisses I’ve watched over and over again on TV shows or in movies, all the articles I’ve read on what kisses really mean and what type should be given in specific situations, all the times I’ve spied on people making out in
the halls and under the bleachers…none of it matters anymore.

Because I’m not Miss Match.

I’m the beautiful, smart, fun, and soaking-wet girl I’ve always wanted to be. I’m Sasha Finnegan.

 

I watch the ’66 Chevy’s headlights vanish down my street, and then I go (more like
float
) inside. It’s not raining anymore, but I’m positively soaked.

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