Notes on a Near-Life Experience (23 page)

I
HEAR THE MOVIE PLAYING BEFORE
I
SEE IT
.

“Another round please, bartender.” Allen's slurred voice floats from the TV.

Keatie is at it again, watching home movies.

This one is of all of us cleaning up after a New Year's Eve party my parents threw a few years ago. Allen has picked up some empty champagne bottles, one in each hand, and is pretending to be drunk. He staggers around the room.

“Whoa, this room is really spinning,” he says, pretending to take another drink from the bottle as he stumbles around the room. “Guess I don't have my sea legs yet.”

I grab the remote from Keatie and turn off the TV.

“Hey,” she says. “I was watching that.”

“Would you stop watching those stupid movies?” I

shout. “What's wrong with you?” I throw the remote on the couch and stomp back to my room.

T
HE GUYS ARE SUPPOSED TO PICK US UP IN TWO HOURS, AND
I am beginning to panic. Not that it's ever taken me that long to get ready for anything in my entire life. Haley and I are wearing bathrobes; we've just finished painting our toenails.

“Haley, do you have time to do that thing with my hair where you make those spiral curls… you know, like what's-her-name from that movie?”

“I thought you were wearing it straight.”

“Well, now I wonder if curly hair would be sexier.”

“Meems, my hair is still wet. Do you realize this?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?” She begins to dry her hair with a towel. “You know, you've been acting like this whole night is about you, Mia. This is my prom, too. Did you bother to come with me to
pick out my dress? No, you didn't. I had to take a cold shower because you were in there forever and
you
used all the hot water. I agree to go to the prom with your brother, and now he may not even show up. And all you can think about is your hair. I'm supposed to be your best friend, Mia, and you're treating me like I'm your maid.”

I haven't seen Haley this upset since the time her mom made her start eating red meat again because she was iron deficient. I feel like a total jerk.

“Haley…I'm so sorry. I didn't realize…”

“You don't realize a lot of things. At least, you act like you don't. And I'm not just talking about the way you've been acting like you're the star of prom. I'm talking about your family crap, too.” She rubs the towel against her head so vigorously that it looks like she's trying to start a fire.

“Look, I'm sorry about the prom stuff. I've been a total brat, you're right. Let's just drop it and start over…. I'll do my own hair. And you should be careful with that towel, you're not going to have any hair left when you finish.” I give Haley the most apologetic look I can muster.

“You're damned right, you'll do your own hair.” She puts down the towel, goes to the bathroom across the hall from her room, gets out a hair dryer, turns it on, and shuts the door.

I decide to leave her alone for a while.

I call Julian to ask him if he's heard from Allen.

“We're picking up your flowers right now. Al's a little, uh, funny, but everything's going to work out.”

Allen gets on the phone. “Tell Haley that I am going to

show her the time of her life,” he says, slurring his words. I can hear Julian struggling to take the phone back. “We'll be there at six-thirty or so.” “Okay…. Are you sure everything's all right?” “No. But we'll be there at six-thirty. See you then.” I remember what Lisz told me during our appointment

this week.

“Ignoring a problem will never make it go away, Mia. Sooner or later things come to a head. Sooner or later you have to deal with them.”

Things can come to a head tomorrow. “Tonight I am a princess,” I repeat to myself over and over again, until I realize it sounds crazy.

When Haley comes out of the bathroom, she seems re

laxed. I decide not to mention the explosion. She sits down in front of her mirror and starts to do her

makeup. I decide to do my hair myself, but after seven minutes of struggling with the curling iron, I'm ready to give up. “Okay, princess,” Haley says (she couldn't have heard

that, could she?), “let's do your hair like what's-her-name's.” “Thank you.” Haley does my hair; I help her with her makeup; things

seem normal again.

At six-twenty we put our dresses on and Haley's mom takes pictures of us; I almost call my mom to tell her to come and see us and take pictures, too, but then I remember about the dress. Haley's mom tells me I look beautiful, but it's not the same.

S
IX-FIFTY-TWO P.M.
A
LLEN AND
J
ULIAN ARRIVE TO PICK UP
Haley and me. Allen is wearing a powder blue tuxedo.

“I tried to talk him out of it,” Julian tells us.

“This is a rock star suit,” Allen says, “and Haley is my supermodel date.”

Haley's mom gives us a confused look. We both shrug.

“I promise to take excellent care of your daughter. And I will tell you right now that I do not plan on trying to seduce her,” Allen tells her.

“Well… thank you …” She looks worried.

“He's just kidding, Mom,” Haley tells her.

Her mom snaps some pictures and tells us three times before we leave to have fun and be careful.

W
E EAT DINNER AT A FANCY
F
RENCH RESTAURANT
. Al Orders escargots and makes us all try one. They're actually pretty good, a little garlicky, though. He tries to order a bottle of wine, too. But the waiter doesn't go for it.

“Maybe in a few years,” he tells Allen.

Haley keeps looking at me funny throughout dinner. I check to make sure my boobs aren't falling out of my dress or anything. I give her “What?” looks, but I can't figure out what she's trying to say.

We get lost on the way to the dance because it's being held at a reception center nobody's ever been to before. We arrive just after the king and queen have been crowned. Kiki Nordgren rushes by us in tears, so I assume she didn't win.

“Hey, Kik,” Al yells after her, “I voted for you,” at which she sobs loudly.

“So
intense,
” Al says to no one in particular.

I am a princess, I think. I'm going to have a perfect prom.

“Mia, bathroom,” Haley orders.

“We're going to go freshen up before pictures,” I tell Julian.

We follow a stream of guyless girls to the restroom.

In the bathroom, Haley grabs my shoulders; her hands are ice cold. “Mia, your brother is drunk. If he gets caught at the prom drunk, he could get kicked out of school.”

“He can't be drunk; the waiter wouldn't bring us any wine, remember?”

“Hello. Earth to Mia. He was drunk by the time he got to my house. And I have a feeling he's been drinking all night. He went to the bathroom three times during dinner. I think he has a flask or some minibottles with him.”

I remember the canteen I found. “Well, what am I supposed to do?” I ask her. This is not happening. I do not have to deal with this. This is my prom. It's going to be perfect. My drunk brother is going to behave himself and everything is going to work out.

“I don't know. Your dad and the Slut are chaperoning, right?”

“Actually, she might not be a total slut—she liked my dress, which is more than I can say for my mom….”

“Stay with me, here. Now isn't the ideal time to reevaluate your opinion of your dad's girlfriend. We need to find your dad and ask him to take Allen home.”

“Allen will not go anywhere with my dad. And my dad

would completely flip out if he found out about Al.” “Then we need to take him home.” “If we take him home, we'll miss the whole dance. Let's go

back out there, see how he's doing, and ask him what he wants to do.”

“All right. But we really have to come up with a plan. You can't just take off with Julian and leave me with your drunk brother.”

“I promise we'll make a plan.”

When we get back to the dance, Al and Julian are in line for pictures. The second we join them, Haley nudges me. I blurt out, “Al, listen… Haley thinks you're drunk.” Haley's jaw drops. “And I do, too,” I add. “Allen! Mia!” My dad's voice booms. We turn and see my dad and Paloma making their way toward us, waving their arms wildly. “Shit,” Allen says. “We've been looking all over for you,” Dad tells us. “We haven't been looking anywhere for you,” Al tells him. Please, not here. Not now. I am a princess. “Mia, Haley, you look beautiful,” Dad tells us, without acknowledging Allen's comment. “Thanks,” we chorus. I look at Paloma so I can return the compliment, and I notice her dress. She is wearing my dress, just like in my dream.

Well, not my dress exactly, but a red version of my dress. I stare. She has great boobs.

“Actually, Dad, I was just kidding when I said we weren't looking for you,” Allen says. “We just didn't expect you to show up on time. Like usual.”

Dad looks hard at Allen, his face shocked, angry. “Have you been drinking?”

“Since I was born.”

“Allen, have you been drinking alcohol tonight?” Dad demands.

“You're up,” the photographer calls to us.

“Showtime,” Allen says, herding us over to the photo corner.

“This discussion is not over,” Dad calls after us.

The photographer poses the four of us, counts to three, snaps a picture, and moves Allen and Haley off to the side so that he can take a picture of just Julian and me. He tells Julian to pick me up, like he's carrying me over the threshold or something. Julian pretends that I am too heavy to lift, and the photographer snaps the picture as he is pretending to grimace in pain while he lifts me off the ground.

“Next couple.” The photographer motions to Allen and Haley.

“Wait,” I plead. “Can't we take another picture? He was joking around and making a weird face.”

“Sorry,” says the photographer, “better luck next time. Next, please.”

Allen drags Haley over and picks her up, like Julian did for our picture. “We're ready,” he tells the photographer. Haley looks completely uncomfortable. “Whoops, that was the end of the roll,” the photographer tells them. “You'll have to wait a minute while I reload the camera.” Allen staggers a bit. “Al, put me down until he's ready, okay?” Haley begs. “No, I've got you,” he tells her. He looks a little pale. “All right, all set,” says the photographer. “One… two… three.” As he snaps the photo, Allen falls to his knees and vomits all over Haley.

Dad has been watching the whole scene from across the room. When Allen pukes, Dad grabs Paloma's arm and heads for the door.

“Well, so much for being an involved parent,” I say to no one in particular. “When the going gets tough, I guess my dad gets going. Great.”

Instead of consulting Allen about a plan, we decide to take matters into our own hands. Julian helps Allen out to the car while Haley and I head back to the bathroom to clean the puke off her dress.

“I'm so sorry,” I tell her over and over again.

“Mia, just shut up,” she says.

My cell phone rings. It's Dad.

“Where are you? Paloma and I went to get the car, to get Al
out of there, and when I came back in, you were already gone.”