The Cannibals (14 page)

“Darling, don't cry.” I gently touched her cheek. “You'll make your mascara all smeary.”

“Do you forgive us, Tiffy?” they asked.

“Of course I do,” I said.

And as I said the words, I knew that they were true. Through all of my trials and tribulations, I have become a bigger, better person—forged in the flames of foolish pride and smelted in the coals of redemption.

“Everyone makes mistakes, Girls. Even me,” I admitted. “Can all of you forgive me, too?”

Then we were blubbering and hugging each other until Mr. Margo came over and said, “Please, girls, you're stressing the satin.”

But as I took my place, I couldn't help wondering,
What
mean things had they said behind my back?

But there wasn't time to dwell on that; my future was unfolding like a rainbow-colored ribbon. The tape recorder began to play “The Wedding March.” Campbell walked onstage and took his place beside the altar.

Then The Girls, my bridesmaids, slowly filed onstage, looking
adorable
in their matching teal-blue dresses, in
spite
of all Shelby's reservations. She'd said the dresses were the color of her grandmother's veins.

The moment had arrived: It was time for my big entrance. Mr. Margo gave me the signal and I moved onto the stage. “Small smile,” he hissed. “No teeth.”
Step, pause
. The audience gasped when they saw me and broke into wild applause.

Step, pause. Step, pause
. I was trembling all over, imagining that this was only a rehearsal for what would be the happiest day of my life.
Step, pause. Step, pause
. I could barely see where I was going. Spotlights, flashbulbs, and tears flooded my eyes. I was blinded by—I guess you'd call it joy.

But as Campbell moved forward to greet me at the altar, something in the front row of the audience caught my eye; someone who made my brain reel with
shock
, as I recognized the tufts of reddish hair, the face that had tanned into one big
freckle
, the cheeks etched with scars in a primitive design.

“Tiffany!” he cried. He wasn't even wearing a
shirt
.

“
WALLY!
”

I pitched forward, blacking out.

Chapter Seventeen

I haven't left the house or been back to school all week. And not just because I landed on my nose when I fainted. Thank
heaven
my black eyes are finally fading.

How can I
ever
face Wally again? After everything he's been through, how can I tell him that it's over, that Campbell and I are together now and practically
engaged
? Not that I want us to get married right away; I think we should graduate from college first and get our careers going.

But I feel so
guilty
when I think of poor Wally, hacking through the jungle to get back to me, the memory of our love his only hope …

I'm afraid this will break his heart.

The first few days after the FASHION SHOW FROM HELL, Wally kept calling and coming by the house, but I wouldn't answer the phone or the door and finally, he went away. I haven't even talked to Campbell or The Girls. I feel like I'm living all alone, on the planet of Tiffany.

Why on
earth
did Wally carve those weird designs into his face? I almost had a heart attack, he looked so strange, like some kind of clown in a scary movie. Couldn't he have surprised me when the fashion show was
over
? Snapshots from a nightmare haunt my brain: me, lying on the floor; people staring down, shocked; Mr. Psycho-Clown shouting my name; the “Wedding March” playing …

My parents urged me to go back to school right away. They told me that the swelling was hardly noticeable.

“Your face looks fine,” they said, but they were just being kind. I looked like I had a pair of panty hose pulled over my head.

Don't they realize how
cruel
kids can be to anyone who looks the slightest bit different, even if the person can't help it?

I just want you to know, God, that I
get the message
, and that I'm sorry for every mean thing I've ever done.

But I
still
don't see why Mimi wants to go around looking like Mrs. Potato Head.

This morning my mother came into my room and insisted that I go to school.

“Tiffany,” she said, “you're so far behind in your studies. Besides, don't you want to spend time with your friends before everyone leaves for college?” et cetera.

I turned from the mirror, where I'd been gazing at my face. The swelling had subsided and the skin around my eyes wasn't purple anymore. I was ready to face the world—and Wally—again.

“All right, Mother,” I said. She looked so happy and relieved!

Which reminds me: Wasn't Mother's Day last week? Do they sell belated Mother's Day cards?

My father gave me a big hug and kiss when I came down for breakfast, and as I drove to school, I knew that I had made the right decision. It was time to face the music, smell the coffee, bite the bullet.

Which is something I hope all of my future readers will remember if anything like this ever happens to you. No matter where you go, you can't hide from yourself. So you might as well put a big smile on your face and say, “Here I am, Life! Take your best shot!”

It was heartwarming, how glad everyone was to see me. Even Dean Schmitz waved and called my name. But I didn't have time to talk to him right then. As I stood at my locker, getting out my books, I saw Wally walking down the hall toward me.

Silently, I prayed for strength. The
last
thing I wanted to do was hurt poor Wally, after everything he'd been through already.

“Hey, Tiff!”

At least he was wearing a shirt, but his hair was still tangled and crazy. He kissed me on the cheek.

“Hello, Wally,” I said, smiling fondly at him. “It's good to see you at school again.”

“Yeah,” he said. “My dad decided to let me come back so I can graduate with my class and everything.”

“That's nice,” I managed, but my ears were ringing. Then I realized it was the bell for first period.

“You look good,” Wally said. “I missed you, Tiff.”

“I missed you, too,” I stammered, then added, “I heard you got married.”

He smiled, embarrassed. “It was more like going steady,” he said. “Things are different in the jungle.”

“I'll bet. Anyway, that's okay,” I said. “You must've been so lonely.”

“I was,” he said, “but your letters really helped.”

The scars on his cheeks were twin spirals, and it looked like there was a tiny
chicken
carved on his chin. Poor Wally. Even if Campbell and I weren't going steady, there's no way Wally and I could've gotten back together. Too much has happened; we've grown apart. And Macy's would
never
have let him be my escort again.

“I'm sorry I scared you at the fashion show,” he said.

“That's okay,” I said. “You didn't mean to.”

“And I'm sorry I haven't called you lately,” he said.

I had to hide a smile. It was so ironic! Wally thought
he
hadn't been calling
me
, when
I
was the one who'd been avoiding
him
!

“It's just that—I don't know how to tell you this, Tiff,” he said, “but I've fallen in love with someone else.”

My smile stuck to my teeth. “I beg your pardon?” I said.

“I know this sounds crazy,” he said, “but it was love at first sight, like I was seeing her for the very first time. Even though we've known each other since kindergarten. Do you know what I mean, Tiff?”

“Uh-huh,” I managed.

“I didn't want to hurt your feelings,” he said, “but I knew you'd want me to be honest, Tiff, 'cause that's the kind of person you are.”

“Uh-huh,” I said.

I'd carefully rehearsed the speech I'd planned to give to Wally. Now here he was, giving it to
me
! We would always be good friends, he said. He hadn't meant to let me down. But so much had happened; we were different people now. Did I think that I could ever forgive him? et cetera.

“Of course I can, Wally,” I calmly replied, while a voice inside me screamed,
You're not breaking up with ME, you twit; I'm breaking up with YOU!

But what was the point of hurting Wally's feelings? I felt proud at how much I've changed and grown. The
old
Tiffany would've acted like a spoiled brat, but the new, improved Tiffany was mature.

Besides, this made everything a whole lot easier.

“These things happen,” I said. “Who's the lucky girl?”

“Mimi Durning.”

“
WHAT
?” I said.

“I'm not kidding, Tiff,” he said. “It's like magic or something, like there's some kind of electrical current between us.”

He said a bunch more stuff—I could see his lips moving—but all I could think was:
Mimi Durning
? He's dumping me for Mrs. Potato Head?!

My mind reeled with shock, but I must've kept smiling, because Wally hugged me and said, “Thanks, Tiff. I knew you'd understand.”

“Uh-huh,” I answered.

“Well, we'd better get to class now,” he said. “I'll see you later.”

Then he pecked me on the cheek and was gone.

I stumbled through my morning classes in a daze. My teachers warned me about overdue assignments, my friends chattered happily about the fun we'd have in a few weeks at the Grad Night party. But their words were like tiny, whining insects in my ears. I brushed them away, lost in a world of my own.

Mimi Durning?!
Why would
anyone
, even Wally, choose
her
instead of
me
?

Had his ordeal in the jungle driven him insane? Was he suffering from the effects of a tropical brain fever? Had he eaten some kind of hallucinogenic
frog
? I've read about stuff like that in
Reader's Digest
.

These were the thoughts tormenting my mind as I drifted in a haze from class to class.

At lunchtime Campbell caught up with me in the Senior Quad. I tried to smile and act normal, but he could tell that something was wrong.

“Tiff, what's the matter?” Campbell asked. “You look so strange.”

“I think I'm allergic to egg salad,” I said.

“I met Wally,” Campbell said. “He's a really nice guy. You must be so glad to have him back.”

“Yes,” I said. I wasn't ready to go into all that. “Campbell, let's go for a ride after school. Someplace quiet where we can talk.”

“Are you sure Wally won't mind?” Campbell said, and he winked.

“I'm positive,” I answered.

“Great,” he said. “I'll meet you in the parking lot after school.”

He left for his next class, and I should have gone to mine, but school was the
last
thing on my mind. Suddenly I felt like I was sitting in the front row of the audience, watching a movie about my life. The camera had zoomed in for a close-up of Tiffany Spratt—and I didn't much like what I was seeing.

It was
ridiculous
of me to feel bad because Wally had dumped me! Was I that petty, that insecure? Did the whole world have to be in love with me? I didn't even want to be with Wally anymore!

I had to laugh at myself. And I'd thought I was so mature!

The problem was my pride, my silly, childish pride, preventing me from seeing that everything had worked out beautifully. I had everything (almost) that I wanted in the world. The
least
I could do was be happy for Wally, glad that he had come home safely and had found somebody to love him.

But
Mimi Durning
?!

Gosh darn it, I thought, you're doing it
again
! What
difference
does it make if Mimi's bald? My dad's almost bald and my mother still loves him! It's the cake underneath that counts, not the frosting! Campbell doesn't love me just because I'm beautiful. He loves me because I'm
me
! And I don't love
him
just because he's so good-looking. I love who he is
inside
, his spirit.

Sitting there, alone in the Senior Quad, I came to a deeper understanding of Life than I ever had before.

I felt like laughing and crying at the same time, like running through the streets, hugging everyone I saw. It was like an Academy Awards of the soul, but I knew I couldn't have done it alone; I owed it
all
to the Director upstairs.

“Thank you for loving me, God,” I whispered, “even though I'm just a knucklehead.”

We took Campbell's car and drove high into the hills, parking on a bluff overlooking the town, spread below us like a tiny toy village. All around us, springtime trailed her flowing green skirts, and I was reminded once again of what a blessing nature is, putting the puny world of man into perspective.

I wanted to share my spiritual breakthrough in the Quad with Campbell, but I sensed that words would be inadequate. So we sat in silence and listened to the wind and the birds.

“This is nice,” Campbell commented, the breeze ruffling his hair like invisible, loving fingers.

“Campbell, there's something I have to tell you,” I finally said.

“What is it, Tiff?” he asked.

“It's about the Peace Corps,” I said. “I wasn't really serious about joining it, at first. I think I just said that to impress you.”

“Why?”

“You know,” I said. “Because you've always thought I'm so superficial.”

Campbell's handsome face looked stricken. “Tiff, I'm sorry,” he said. “I had no right to say that. You were just going through some changes, that's all.”

“No, you were right,” I admitted. “All I cared about was myself and my hair, and being a famous movie star.”

“And cheerleading,” Campbell added.