The Apocalypse (18 page)

"Bitch."

Laughing more, Mercedes shrugged freely and glanced around the gym, which had been converted into a winter wonderland. At the same time, Eric Jefferson's band decided to take a break, and one of the latest hits by some chick Jake didn't remember the name of flowed through the sound system. All of the movement held Mercedes's attention, and it gave Jake the perfect opportunity to admire his ex-girlfriend's appearance—from the gentle, shoulder blade-length waves of her bouncy light brown hair, to the silky, glittery white dress that fell just above her knees, to the crystal heels that covered her small feet with toenails painted a sparkly white.

She was certainly a beautiful girl, but there was no lack of beauty at the Winter Formal. In fact, Jake had had the opportunity to dance with four girls that he'd thought were pretty ordinary on a regular day, but the formalwear had transformed them magically into being stunning; it was like a miracle from a fairytale. All of the girls were dressed in elegant dresses, while all of the guys admired them and fidgeted awkwardly with their own classy clothes. Like the majority of the males, Jake had rolled up the binding sleeves of his white shirt in an attempt to achieve some form of comfort.

"Awww, look!" Mercedes gushed suddenly. "Don't Brent and Rachael look adorable together?"

Jake followed Mercedes's gaze to one of his best friends, who was slow dancing with a pretty brunette. 'Adorable' wasn't the word that Jake would use to describe it, particularly since Brent was scowling, but he didn't mention how boring it looked to him. "Uh-huh. Want to dance?"

Surprise flickered into Mercedes's blue eyes, and Jake wondered if he'd stepped out of bounds by asking. "Um, okay." She glanced around briefly and then decided to toss her punch into the trashcan, which was probably a good idea since it wasn't exactly safe to leave a drink sitting around for future use.

Jake reached out and took Mercedes's hand in his before leading her to the dance floor. She was so tiny in comparison to him that Jake's body overshadowed hers easily. Mercedes's arms wrapped around his neck, and he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her close but not too close. He wanted to avoid any opinions of being one of the guys who only liked to dance so that he could grope his partner. Jake just wanted to dance because he'd thought Mercedes wanted to. That's what he was telling himself anyway. Even if he didn't want Mercedes back—anymore, at least—she was still a nice girl to hang out with, especially since they'd both come to the dance stag. And what better sense did it make than for the class president and vice president to dance together at a dance that they'd put together?

"—you know what I mean?"

Jake blinked and realized that while he'd been trying to rationalize his reasons for asking Mercedes to dance, she'd been talking about…something. He offered her a sheepish smile. "Not exactly. Care to explain it again?"

Grinning, Mercedes shook her head gently. "I was just saying that it's cool to see Formal come together. Starting from scratch and seeing the final product. Don't you think that's a satisfying feeling?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah." Jake smiled politely, secretly wondering what in the world she was talking about. He didn't care at all about some stupid dance that he wouldn't have come to if it had been socially acceptable to skip it. "It's pretty amazing."

Mercedes smiled brightly. "It really is." Her eyes were jumping around curiously, taking things in, but Jake was growing bored. Apparently, she hadn't been hinting to dance with him after all, or else she wouldn't have been paying attention to anything but him. "Oh my God! Samantha Albright came, can you believe it?"

Vaguely recalling that the junior girl was a few months pregnant, Jake nodded. "Mm, no. Never would have guessed that."

"Hmmm…" Mercedes glanced up and studied Jake with a knowing smile. "You're totally miserable, aren't you? Sick, tired, bored…and here I am talking about girly stuff." She giggled. "Sorry, Jake."

Jake had to laugh. She knew him well. "You caught me," he admitted, not even bothering to fake sheepishness. He was too busy returning an eye-roll with one of his basketball buddies.

"Hannah's here," Mercedes murmured softly, tipping her head back so that she could see Jake's face even better. His eyes snapped to Mercedes's face and scanned over all of her delicate features while she spoke softer. "She looks really pretty. How's she doing now?"

"Okay, I guess," Jake replied just as quietly, shrugging his shoulders gently.

The song changed, and Jake experienced mixed emotions that it was another slow ballad. On one hand, they wouldn't be expected to move around energetically, which was something he didn't feel like doing, but, on the other hand, the slowness of the song fed the somber feeling that surrounded him and Mercedes. While it was somewhat comforting to sway back and forth, it was also bland.

Swaying slower and slower, or at least it seemed like it, Jake's tiny attention span urged him to go get more punch. The more he tried to tell his mind that he wasn't thirsty, the drier his throat became, but it wasn't as if he could dump Mercedes all of a sudden. Even if she'd done it to him, it didn't make it right, so Jake continued swaying, feeling as though he was being lulled into sleep.

Mercedes inhaled loudly. "Jake!"

He positively jumped. "What?"

Suddenly, her eyes brightened excitedly, and an enormous smile broke out on her face. 'Beautiful' didn't even begin to describe how she looked. "I just saw Kirk Godfrey come in, and I think he's alone. You didn't
tell
me that he didn't have a date!"

Jake blinked, dumbfounded. "I was supposed to tell you that Kirk's dateless?"

"Jake!" Mercedes hissed impatiently, though her smile hadn't faded. "Duh! Make him come over here. Please? Talk to him or something. Hurry!"

It took a few seconds for realization to dawn on Jake, and his slowness made him wonder if the punch had been spiked after all. "Oh." Then he smirked. "Asking the ex to hook you up with a friend, Cedes? Oh, that's not a
bit
awkward for me. Not at
all
."

"Like you care," Mercedes giggled. "Stop being a sarcastic jerk. Come on, Jake, I'd do it for you. Get him over here, and that's it. I'll never ask you for anything else."

"Can I get a written statement on that real quick?"

"Jake!" Mercedes pushed her lips into a glossy pout and widened her eyes pleadingly. "Unless it's a life or death situation, I'll never bother you again. Okay? Deal? Just get Kirk over here!"

Amused, Jake rolled his eyes and did as he was asked. He got Kirk's attention, waved him over, and left his basketball captain with his ex-girlfriend to head for the dessert table. Wasn't high school love beautiful?

"Hey, hook me up with one of those brownies," Jake commanded lightly to a petite senior girl that was operating the snack table. He pointed to the pumpkin cupcakes with cream cheese frosting, one of his absolute favorite desserts, although he tended to prefer eating it with a fork instead of his hands. "And one of those too please."

Content with his cupcake and brownie, Jake made his way to a
corner
where some of his friends were socializing. He greeted people as he walked, trying to conjure up some holiday spirit from somewhere deep within, and even managed to smile at a group of football players that he couldn't
stand
to be around. If he kept this up, pretty soon Jake would lose his Ebenezer image.

"Hey, dude, that was a great game last night." Jake entered the familiarity of maleness as some of his friends, who'd evidently managed to sneak away from their dancing dates for awhile, engaged in some actually interesting conversation. "We're definitely going to the playoffs!"

Another friend commented on the basketball team's upcoming opposition, and a heated debate ensued between some of the guys about which team was more of a threat. Jake didn't make any comments, preferring only to listen in this case. There was something about these kinds of arguments that always entertained him, probably because he usually disagreed with both sides and mentally mocked both.

"Hi, Jake!" He looked away from the guys to see one of the cheerleaders waving at him flirtatiously, so Jake gave her
a
grin and nearly laughed when a group of her friends erupted into giggles. "You look great."

He gave her
a
polite nod. "And you look incredible."

The girl, who he thought was on the dance team, blushed deeply. "Thanks…"

"Jake!"

A sudden yelp removed Jake from his basking, and two strong hands gripped his shoulders desperately. "God, Brent, what's your freaking problem, man?" he crudely asked. "Get off!"

"I'm about to shoot myself in the earlobe," Brent announced somberly, removing his hands to cross his arms. "I swear to you, I'm losing my mind! How many more hours does this stupid thing last?"

Brent's desperation instantly humored Jake, and he grinned, blatantly feigning sympathy. "Why? What's the problem, buddy?"

"I've been dancing for the past forty hours!" Brent exaggerated, glaring at Jake as though it was solely his fault, which only amused Jake more. "And the
entire
time, I've had to listen to all the gossip of who's dating who and whose dress is prettier than whose, and I'm two seconds away from going postal!"

Calmly, Jake stifled a laugh and slugged Brent's upper arm. He tried to show some genuine sympathy, but it was hard because Brent
always
seemed to end up with superficial girls. "It'll be okay. Just tell her that you want to sit out for a couple dances."

"Oh yeah, that'll go over
really
well," Brent griped, pulling a face of disbelief. He raised his voice an octave, mocking femininely, "'What's the matter? Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?'" He scowled and shook his head. "You know how these girls are. They're psychotic! And they never shut up!"

"Oh, sure, sure," Jake agreed easily, nodding as his enjoyment continued to grow.

"Wow! Brent, come dance with me!"

Jake and Brent both looked over to see Brent's date, Rachael, excitedly looking toward the dance floor. The slow ballads had been replaced with fast paced music, and strobe lights flickered wildly to the pulsating beats. The flashing lights honestly made Jake's head swim at first, until he adjusted to the dizzying effect.

"Uh, Jake said the punch is great," Brent lied quickly, prompting a snicker from Jake. "Want me to grab you some?"

"No, I want you to dance with me," Rachael whined impatiently.

Jake took a step and elbowed the nearest guy to him, who was about three feet away. It just happened to be his baseball teammate from his first period class. "Hey, Rachael, Anthony wants to dance with you. He said so earlier."

Rachael's face lit up, probably at the prospect of dancing with anybody. "Come on, Anthony!" She tugged on his arm, oblivious to his shock, and pulled him to the dance floor, even though his protests could be heard.

"Thanks, Jake," Brent muttered, rolling his brown eyes. He rubbed his temples slowly; when it came to girls, Brent really preferred hooking up over hanging out. "Man, she's giving me a headache. Did anybody bring booze? I need a drink or five to get through this mess."

Jake rolled his eyes also. "I don't know. We can check the punch though."

Eagerly, Brent followed Jake toward the refreshment tables, and both loaded up on cookies before they reached the punch bowl. They picked up paper cups of fruit punch and then leaned against the cold wall of the gym, looking around in boredom in comfortable silence. Only
a
few moments had passed before a rather frantic Tisha appeared in front of the guys, with Libby following behind her.

"You've got to come with me, Jake!" Tisha informed him urgently, nudging him gently. "Hannah's flipping out, and she asked for you. Come on!"

Jake took a simple glance at Tisha's widened blue-green eyes and drained his cup of punch slowly. "Ayers isn't my problem. You take care of her."

"But, Jake, she asked for
you
!" Tisha bit down on her lower lip nervously and glanced at Libby helplessly before snapping her eyes back to Jake's indifferent face. "You don't understand! She was dancing with Ethan, and then she just—I don't know! Now she's, like, hyperventilating practically, and we can't calm her down!"