Something True (18 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Darla

I stood in the middle of the square white dressing room after school on Tuesday in my underpants and strapless bra, staring at the three dresses Veronica and I had picked out. One was basic black with rhinestone straps that crossed in the back, one was red and slinky with a serious slit, and the last was a green strapless with an A-line tea-length skirt. It was the most flattering cut, but the color was semi-awful.

With a sigh, I checked the price tag. It was more expensive than the blue dress I had at home, the one I still loved even if it did make my hips look slightly large.

“Well? What do you think?” Veronica asked from the other side of the door.

“I’m not sure. Give me a minute.”

“Try on the green one again,” Veronica instructed.

I hung my head and covered my face with my hands. I knew I should go back out and keep searching, but I was sick of it. Sick of trying on dresses that didn’t look exactly right. Sick of wondering which one might get me the most votes and win me homecoming queen. Sick of trying to predict which one Orion would like best.

Orion. Just thinking about him made me groan in frustration. One second he was acting like it was a huge, meaningful deal to ask me to be his booster, and the next it was like having me as his booster didn’t even matter. Why did he have to be so hot and cold? So gray? So infuriatingly fickle and blasé about everything? If he were here right now, he probably wouldn’t even have an opinion about the dresses. He’d probably tell me to “wear whatever.”

I yanked the green dress down from the hanger and jammed my legs into it. The black crinoline itched at my skin as I zipped it up. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I heard a voice as clear as day in my mind, but it wasn’t Orion’s, it was Wallace’s. And it said, “Wear the blue one. You love the blue one. The blue one makes you feel good. The blue one is you.”

Weirdly, startlingly, in that moment, I wished Wallace was here to help me decide. I grabbed my phone and sent a quick text to his phone.

U AROUND 2NITE?

He texted right back. Boy always had his phone and his iPad nearby.

YEP. WHY?

Why? Why was a good question. I glanced around the tiny space, trying to think of a good excuse to see him when he’d basically told me that seeing him was a bad idea. Sticking out of my bag was the corner of the notebook where I’d been scratching out ideas for my homecoming speech tomorrow. My hands shook as I texted.

NEED 2 PRACTICE SPEECH. BE MY AUDIENCE? JUST US.

There was a long pause. He was ignoring me. He was going to say no. Tell me to ask Orion. I held my breath. Finally, an answer appeared.

SURE. WILL COME BY AROUND 8.

I exhaled, relieved.

“Let me see!” Veronica called out.

I shoved my phone deep into my bag and opened the door, ready to tell her I was done with this shopping sham, but her jaw dropped at the dress.

“See? That’s the one. That highlights every one of your best features. Your tiny waist, your perfect calves, the green flecks in your eyes.”

I turned toward the three-way mirror at the far end of the dressing room. It really was pretty. If it were only a little less . . .

Ugh. Forget it. No one was going to vote for the Wicked Witch of the West for homecoming queen.

“I don’t know,” I said, ducking back into my cubicle and closing the door again. As soon as the dress dropped to my feet, I felt lighter. “I think I’m just going to wear the one I have.”

There was a long pause. Long enough for me to pull my jeans on and push one foot into its high-heeled boot. It was so long, my heart started to pound in anticipation.

“But it’s the exact same color as mine,” Veronica said eventually.

I rolled my eyes at her—something I’d only ever do when she couldn’t see me—and pulled on my second boot.

“We can’t stand up there right next to each other in the same color,” Veronica continued. “Everyone knows we’re best friends. We’ll look like idiots. Like we didn’t consult.”

I pulled my T-shirt on and yanked open the door again. “So? We like our dresses,” I said, my hair sticking to my face from the static. “Who cares what they think?”

“You didn’t really just say that,” Veronica replied, dropping her chin. “The only thing that matters is what they think. This is homecoming.”

The frustration I’d been feeling all day burbled up inside my chest. But as Veronica stared me down, I realized it wasn’t just frustration from today, it was frustration that had been building for a while. Veronica always got her way, no matter what. Why couldn’t I have what I wanted, just this once? Why couldn’t I be the one who got to choose? I wasn’t Darbot the Geek anymore. I wasn’t. I was Darla Shayne, and bitchy comments at Goddess the other day aside, I was supposed to be her best friend. Couldn’t she give me this one little thing?

What would Veronica do?
I thought, and almost laughed. Was I really going to use her own tactics on her?

I looked her in the eye and hoped she couldn’t tell I was terrified. “Well, I got my dress first, so I think you should return yours.”

Veronica let out a disbelieving snort. She readjusted the strap of her Louis Vuitton purse on her shoulder. “Wow. ‘I had it first’? That’s really your argument? What are we, five?”

“No. I just—”

“No, really, D. Very mature. I love that you’re going to make me return my dress just because you’ve suddenly adopted the logic of a kindergartener,” she ranted, walking past me. She paused near the door and looked back. “When did you get so selfish?”

“I’m not being selfish!” I countered, as the two girls in the dressing room next to mine started to giggle. “I just—”

“You just what? What, Darla?” Veronica asked, squaring off with me.

“Are you trying to sabotage me?” I asked.

The words came out like a squeak, but I couldn’t believe they’d come out at all. I’d never accused Veronica of anything bad in my entire life. Never called her on how she’d treated Wallace. Never pointed out that she sometimes went back on plans that I’d thought were solid. Never scolded her for her comments on Mariah’s weight or Kenna’s frizzy hair. And clearly, Veronica had been aware of this too. For a long moment, we both just stood there, stunned.

“Are you kidding me?” Veronica snapped.

“I mean, you can’t be serious about these dresses,” I said, gesturing at the one on the floor. I was shaking, but I felt like I couldn’t stop now. “And the pink one from the other day. And the way you treated me in front of everyone at Goddess. Not to mention the fact that you almost told Orion about me and Wallace hanging out.”

“But you and Wallace
are
hanging out!” she countered. “And I sent you that dress because I know how much you like pink!”

I don’t like pink. I only ever wear it because she once said it was my color.

“And as for Goddess, I was just doing you a favor. Showing you what your slumming behavior was going to get you. Did you not see how those people were laughing?”

“They weren’t laughing until you started making awful jokes,” I replied, though I was starting to lose my nerve.

“You know what,
D
? I was just trying to help you. Could you be any more ungrateful?” Veronica said, grabbing the two shopping bags she’d accrued from the floor, and a pair of jeans she’d decided to buy for herself. “I’ll be up at the register. You have five minutes to find me there or you can call your precious Wall-E for a ride home.”

“Veronica, wait,” I said.

But she strode off, the security tag on the jeans smacking loudly against the wall as she took the corner too tightly. The two girls in the next dressing room held their breath for a moment, then cracked up laughing. I gazed at the pile of green silk and black tulle on the floor, feeling hot and completely confused.

Maybe she
was
just trying to help me. Maybe her help had just been a little off. Either way, I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for her. I wouldn’t be popular, I wouldn’t have Orion, I wouldn’t be nominated for homecoming queen. By making me her best friend back in middle school, she’d basically made
me
. I wasn’t naive. I knew this. So maybe I was being ungrateful.

Would it really be that big of a deal to let her have the blue dress? Was it really going to matter? Maybe homecoming shouldn’t be a war, with talk of battles and sabotage and beating the other person. Maybe it should just be fun.

I grabbed the dress off the floor and raced after her.

“Veronica, wait up!” I shouted.

But I didn’t need to. She was still standing at the register, waiting for me. She smiled when she saw I was clutching the green dress.

“Good choice.”

CHAPTER FORTY

Darla

“It really is a lovely cut, hon,” my mother said, her semi-grainy image looking me up and down from my laptop screen as I stood in the middle of my room, wearing the green dress. “But I think something’s wrong with my tint levels. Is that really the color?”

I groaned and trudged over to sit at the desk, head in my hand. “If you’re seeing Emerald City, then yes, that’s the real color.”

“Well, it’s a bit extreme, but if you like it—”

The doorbell rang, and I sat up straight. Was it already eight o’clock?

“Mom, I have to go,” I said.

“Okay.” She sighed and tilted her head, her brown wavy hair tumbling artfully over her shoulder. “I’m sorry I won’t be there, sweetie. But I’ll be home first thing on Sunday, and you can tell me everything.”

“Sounds good.” I was used to my mom not being there for things. It no longer broke my heart. This was our reality, and it had been for a really long time. I only felt the slightest twinge in the center of my chest when she apologized. “Safe flights!”

“Good night, hon.”

We both leaned in toward the screen to air-kiss. Downstairs I heard Wallace’s voice echoing in the entryway as Lisa let him in. I turned toward the mirror, fluffed my hair, curled my lip at the dress, then ran downstairs. My heart was pounding a little too quickly for a visit from Wallace, but I chose to ignore it.

“I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve seen you,” Lisa was saying to Wallace. “You’ve gotten so tall!”

“That’s what happens,” he said.

They both looked up when I was halfway down the staircase. Neither one of them smiled. Lisa had an apron on over her black pants and white shirt, which meant she was still cleaning up from dinner. I usually helped her—she’d wash and I’d dry—but tonight my mother’s call had interrupted, and then I’d ended up putting on a fashion show for her.

“What’re you wearing?” Wallace asked.

I knew it. Wallace hated the dress.

“I’ll go get you guys a snack,” Lisa said, disappearing quickly toward the back of the house before anyone could ask her opinion.

I took the last few steps slowly. “It’s that bad?”

Wallace turned fully to face me, his hands in the pockets of his gray pin-striped pants, which were cuffed at the ankle. Only he could make those things work with a
Big Bang Theory
T-shirt and a pair of Chuck Ts.

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s fine. But I thought you liked the blue one.”

“I did. I do.” I turned and led him into the parlor, where I sat on the chintz love seat, the skirt pouffing out around me. “It’s just, Veronica is going to be wearing that color, and she thinks . . . we both think . . . it would be a bad idea to stand up there looking like twins.”

“Which is it?” Wallace asked, positioning himself in the center of the antique rug.

My brow knit. “What do you mean?”

“She thinks or you both think?” he said.

I bit my lip and looked away.

“I knew it!” Wallace announced, raising a finger as if he’d just discovered a new wrinkle in string theory.

“Knew what?”

“She bullied you, didn’t she? She bullied you into picking out a dress you didn’t like.” His face turned pink and his nostrils flared. When he paced over to the fireplace, I half thought he was going to take down one of my mother’s ceramic vases and throw it across the room. Instead he gripped the marble mantel like he needed it to stay afloat while the ship went down. “God, I hate that girl.”

“Wallace, calm down,” I said, rising from my seat. The back of the dress was so stiff it stayed bent out at an odd angle behind me. Embarrassed, I smoothed it—smacked it into submission, actually—but Wallace didn’t notice. He was on a tear.

“No, you know what? It’s not fair. Why are you even friends with her?” he demanded. “Please. Just tell me. I understand why you wanted to be back then, but now . . . It makes no sense to me.”

“I know she said some things the other day that were not so nice—”

“Not so nice?” he blurted. “She suggested we take part in a loser foursome!”

My face burned at the memory, but I barreled on. “But she’s not like that. Not all the time.”

He brought his hands to his head, cupping the sides of his skull, which made his hair stand up on the top. “Yes! Yes she is! She totally has you brainwashed. It’s because of her that we’re not friends anymore. It’s because of her that you have no clue how amazing you are. How amazing you’ve always,
always
been.”

My breath caught. “I’m amazing?”

Wallace took two steps toward me, his eyes on mine. “Yes. You are. How could you not know that?”

I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. “Wallace—”

“But I don’t know, maybe it’s not entirely her fault. Maybe it’s just that no one’s ever bothered to tell you. Because your dad bailed and your mom’s never here and you have a boyfriend who, while well-meaning, is—let’s face it—kind of a pretty-boy doof.”

I was speechless. And when I realized my mouth was hanging open slightly, I snapped it closed.

“You, Darla Lea Shayne, are amazing,” Wallace told me hotly. “You are smart. You’re creative. You’re stylish. You’re giving. You’re determined. You make everything beautiful. You don’t have to be anyone’s sidekick, because you kick ass on your own.”

Wow. Was that really what he thought of me? I had never felt like I could kick ass on my own. I’d never even felt like I could stick up for myself, not really. Not without knowing Veronica would agree—that she’d have my back. But right then, right there, looking into Wallace’s eyes, I did feel pretty strong. I felt indestructible, actually.

“Wallace,” I said finally. “That was . . . thank you.”

He took the teeny-tiniest step toward me, and my skin hummed. He was going to kiss me. Wallace Bracken was going to kiss me. But then something shifted in his expression, and the world seemed to pause until suddenly he backed away.

“I have to go,” he said.

And he bolted for the door.

“What?” I breathed, needing a second to recover myself before I went after him. “Wallace, wait!”

We blew past Lisa, who was coming through the foyer with a tray of chips, salsa, and bottled water. Wallace yanked open the door, and as his foot hit the threshold, I knew I couldn’t let him go. I wasn’t done with him yet.

“Wallace, stop!” I ordered.

I kick ass on my own. I kick ass on my own.

He looked back at me from the front step. I walked up to him, grabbed him by that stupid
Big Bang
shirt, and pulled him to me.

“If you won’t do it, I will,” I said.

And then I kissed him. I kissed Wallace Bracken, the guy my friends thought was a dork, the boy who Veronica had once teased to within an inch of his life, the kid who’d polled the school and found out he was a detriment to me.

I kissed him, and nothing had ever felt more right. Wallace took a second to respond, but when he did, his arms went around me and he held me close and the warmth of him, the sureness of him, made me feel safe and excited all at once. Wallace was my best friend. Why did I ever think he wasn’t? He believed in me. He saw things in me I could hardly believe. I would have kissed him forever if I could have.

But then he pulled away.

“I really have to go,” he said. “You—you have a boyfriend and I—I really have to go.”

Orion. Crap. Homecoming. Crappity crap. My lips felt swollen as I watched Wallace cut across our lawn in the direction of his house.

“Wait! What about my speech?” I shouted after him. It was the reason he’d come over in the first place.

“I’m sure it’s great!” he shouted, walking backward. “How could it not be? You wrote it!”

He disappeared into his house and slammed the door. Then I went back inside to have the nervous breakdown I was clearly in need of having.

Tomorrow Orion and I would give our speeches, telling the student body why we should be king and queen. We would sit up onstage next to each other in the gym surrounded by posters of the two of us, hugging, smiling, kissing. We had conveyed the picture of the perfect couple to the world, and we had a really good chance of winning. This was my moment. The moment I’d been working toward for years.

And all I’d be thinking about while I was up there, all I’d be thinking about every second until then, was Wallace Bracken.