Revenge of the Girl With the Great Personality (9 page)

“I can’t believe Taylor Riggins asked you out!” Benny shrieks once we get into the car. “I mean, not that I doubted a hottie would fall in love with you.”

I can’t respond because I’m still in shock.

Cam doesn’t seem as pleased. “So you’re cool that he only showed interest in you once you got all glam?”

“Yes!” Benny and I say in unison.

“So what’s next?” Cam asks as she starts the car.

Benny practically shakes with excitement. “So let’s see. Lexi goes on a date with
Taylor friggin’ Riggins
.” Both Benny and I clap, the anticipation for my
first date
growing by the millisecond. “She makes him fall in love with her, which will happen in like, minute three of their date, they get married, move into a house with a white picket fence, and have a dozen kids. The end.”

“I meant, your bet is over. You were supposed to glam up for the week,” Cam reminds me. “What’s he going to think come Monday?”

“Okay, okay!” Benny’s practically jumping out of his seat. “If you glam it up on your date with Taylor, I’ll —”

“Benny,” I interrupt, “it’s okay. I kind of like being this new person, and while I don’t think I’ll do the entire two-hour ritual every morning, I think I’m going to keep it up for a while. At least until my date.”

My date.
It sounds so foreign coming out of my mouth.

Benny’s beaming. “And you don’t want anything for it?”

“No, I think we both need to start doing things because we should be doing them,” I say. “Except you still have to ask Chris on a date. But you should be willing to get to know him better to see if
you’re
interested in him because it’s important to put yourself out there. And I should do what makes me feel good, and if that’s finally coming to terms with what happened all those years ago that caused me to think I couldn’t be anything more than a runner-up …” I stop myself. Tonight’s been an
amazing evening; there’s no point breaking down into tears. “I think that maybe we both need to believe in ourselves a little bit more.”

Benny reaches over and gives me a hug. “You’re right.”

I’m right?

About time.

I
have a date.

I have a date with Taylor Riggins.

I, Lexi Anderson, have a date.

No matter how many times I say it, I still can’t believe it.

For years I’ve been complaining about not being asked out on a date. I’ll admit it bordered on annoying, although I’m sure Benny and Cam would laugh at
bordered
. But now I have a date.

And I’m totally freaking out.

I even have a new outfit — a black-and-white wrap dress with my knee-high boots. I have all my makeup lined up, but I keep staring at myself in the mirror.

Since the party, things have gotten even more surreal. Grant “you want me to take
Lexi
to Homecoming?” Christensen talks to me regularly now. Even Brooke doesn’t look as disgusted when I’m in her presence. I keep getting compliments on my hair or clothes.

And I love every minute of it.

Rolling my hair and putting on my makeup has become easier for me. I don’t have to think as much anymore, which can be a bad thing since it lets my mind wander.

I have no idea what to do on a date. Cam says for me to be myself, although being myself didn’t land me the date in the first place.

But here’s the messed-up part: I don’t even know if I like Taylor. He’s gorgeous, so I’d be stupid not to. But because I’m pathetic, all I keep thinking about is Logan. I was hoping that once I had a real date with a real boy my Logan delusions would end, or at least subside.

I push all the confusion out of my head while I put the finishing touches on my makeup. Since Taylor’s coming in a few minutes, I go out in the living room, where Mackenzie is practicing her beauty walk for next weekend’s pageant.

“My goodness, Lexi, come here.” Mom pats the empty seat next to her. “I can’t believe my baby girl has a date.”

“Hey!” Mac sulks. “
I’m
your baby girl.”

“Oh, honey, I know that. But I remember when Lexi was born like it was yesterday. So much has changed….”

I look out the window, willing Taylor’s car to pull up. I didn’t want him to pick me up. I’m a little embarrassed about our house. We used to
live in a nice little three-bedroom, two-story house with a two-car garage. Dad’s child support didn’t fully cover the mortgage, so because of the rising costs of the pageants we had to move into this glorified double-wide.

Mac looks me up and down. She hasn’t been very supportive of my recent makeover. She got upset at the pageant this past weekend when I got a bunch of compliments on my outfit. I hate to say it, but I sometimes think that she feels like she’s the only person in the entire universe who deserves to be praised for her beauty. And unfortunately, I know
exactly
where she got that idea.

Mac folds her arms. “Where are you getting the money for all your new clothes?”

“I have a
job
at a
clothing
store, remember?” I don’t feel the need to defend my spending habits to her.

Mac turns to Mom. “Why does
she
get new clothes when
I
have to wear an old gown this weekend?”

“Because I have a JOB.”

Another side effect from this newfound confidence is that I’m starting to confront the fact that I’m not really appreciated that much in my family. It seems like the only time Mom and Mac want anything to do with me is when they need something from me. And when Mac gets a crown or a title, I’m not even thanked. I know that she’s the one up on stage, but I’m the one up early running around catering to their every demand. If Mac wants sour-cream-and-onion potato chips, I have to find them. If Mom needs another one of her frozen coffee drinks, it’s me
who gets it. If Mac starts to kick the makeup person when she doesn’t want fake eyelashes applied, I’m the one who has to hold her feet.

But before I can start an argument, Taylor pulls up in his car. Like a knight riding in on a white horse.

“He’s here. I’ll see you later.” I start to walk out.

“Now wait just a second, I want to meet this guy.” Mom gets up.

“Please, Mom, maybe another time?” I realize that I sound desperate. This evening’s stressful enough without having to worry about being embarrassed by my family.

Mom glances at Mackenzie, who’s currently wearing one of her crowns and sashes and is waving her hand around, smiling. “Okay, but next time, I expect to meet him.”

“Of course, thanks!” I rush outside and see Taylor approaching the house.

He smiles at me. “Hey, I was planning on knocking. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“That’s sweet of you, but there’s pageant craziness going on in there.”

Taylor laughs and does a little wave. I turn around to find both Mackenzie and my mom staring out the window.

So much for not being embarrassed.

“Shall we …” I start walking toward the car.

“You look great.”

“Thanks!” That will never, and I mean
never
, get old.

When I thought about being on a date, I never thought about the details. My mind would focus on specific moments, like when Logan would pick me up at my house. Of course, in my dreams it was always a fabulous house, not the dump I currently inhabit. He’d bring me flowers. He’d stare in my eyes. We’d walk along some beach holding hands, with the warm waves gently brushing against our feet. (Don’t ask me where we found an ocean in Dallas.) We’d make out, there’d be fireworks, we’d get married and live happily ever after.

So I’m not
entirely
surprised that a regular, or I guess I should say
real
, first date isn’t anything like what I’ve dreamed of. But I didn’t realize that I would have so many things to consider, beyond what I was going to wear.

Taylor opens up the passenger-side door for me, which I know is chivalrous and all, but I’m not expecting it, so I nearly fall over on the grass when I abruptly stop to let him open it for me. So am I supposed to wait in the car after we park for him to open the door for me? Is that what girls do? It makes me feel like he’s my chauffeur if I just sit there and wait for him to go around and open up the door. I don’t want to seem like a snob, or lazy, but what if he wants to open it for me?

And where do I put my hands? I’ve been a passenger in a car thousands of times before. But as I sit here next to Taylor, who’s telling me some story about football that I’m pretending to be interested in, I’m hyperaware of his proximity to me. I’ve currently got my hands resting in my lap like I’m a lady in the 1920s waiting for her gentleman caller to show up.

And what happens when the bill arrives? I know I should offer to pay, even though if he pays that means it’s a date. And if he lets me split the bill, does that mean he isn’t having a good time? Or that this is just a friend thing? I guess I should be careful not to order anything too expensive. Maybe just a side salad or something. And a water. Oh God, I think that’s probably what Brooke eats on dates.

And if he does pay, then should I pay for the movie? I should offer that. Shouldn’t I? I don’t even know what I’ll do with my hands during the movie. And I think I’ll have a heart attack if I even start entertaining thoughts about the end of the evening and a possible kiss.

And I guess the most important question of all: Is this even a real date? I mean, he asked me. But not really
me
, like Normal Lexi. He asked the primped-out version of me. So I don’t know if I can really consider this a real date. It’s been built on false pretenses.

But then why am I so nervous?

“Ready?” Taylor shuts off the ignition and I realize that we’re at the mall.

I try to give him a confident smile. “Yes!” And I open the passenger door and get out.

That’s one less thing I have to worry about.

Of course, the second I get home, I call Benny.

He picks up the phone before I even hear a ring. “So?”

“I love how me having a date is such a momentous occasion that you’re literally waiting by your phone.”

“Um, a date with
Taylor Riggins
. Spill it. Now.”

I hesitate for a few seconds.

“Are you going to make me beg?”

“It went well….”

“Well?”

“Yeah, we went to Leo’s for dinner, then saw that new Wesley Pike movie. It was fun…. I just don’t know. I’m not sure if he’s really into me.”

I hear Benny sigh. “Do I need to come over there and smack you? This is basically the same thing I said to you about Chris, and do I need to remind you how foolish you thought I was being? He asked you on a
date
— what part of
he’s interested in you
do you fail to understand?”

“No, I know. It’s only …” I flicker back to just a moment ago. “At the end of the date, I was sort of expecting him to kiss me or try something. And he just hugged me good-bye and said that it was fun and we should do it again soon.”

My cheeks become hot as I think of me standing there outside our front door like an idiot. Thinking he was going to kiss me, that I was going to have my first real kiss. But then … nothing.

Every time I envisioned what it would be like, it started out the way we were just a few moments ago. Logan walks me to my front door, he tells me what an amazing time he had (which Taylor did), then he tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear, but he doesn’t pull his hand away.
Instead he cups my face, and leans in and gives me the single greatest kiss in the history of first dates.

I mean, is that so much to ask?

“Wait a second.” Benny snaps me back to reality. “So because he didn’t shove his tongue down your throat, you’re convinced that he’s not into you? Has the thought ever crossed your mind that he’s being a gentleman?”

“I don’t know how these things work. Cam’s always talking about guys trying to put the moves on her any chance they get. I guess I was expecting the same thing. I’m new to this; I’m only going off of what she says happens —”

I hear a text come through and lift up my phone to see it.

“Hello?” Benny shouts.

“Sorry, I’m here. I got a text from Taylor.”

“AND?”

“It says ‘Had a great time, let’s do it again soon.’”

Benny groans. “See! I told you.”

“You’re right.” I hesitate for a moment. “Benny, I haven’t really thanked you.”

“Nor I you,” he reminds me. “But this is what friends do. We remind each other how awesome we are.”

I laugh. “Benny, can you believe we both may have boyfriends?”

“Crap,” he says — not the response I thought I’d get. “Does this mean the world’s going to end?”