Will the Real Prince Charming Please Stand Up (2 page)

“Thanks again for giving us a ride, man,” Brady said as he climbed into Tim’s sleek black Camaro. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her. I think I might need to take her in and have Freddie check her out.”

Tim carefully backed out of our driveway. “You really want to know what’s wrong with her?”

My brother shook his head. “Don’t say it, dude.”

“You can’t stick a new engine in a classic body, man. She was made in the ’60s. She needs parts designed just for her.”

“No way. And Veronica handles way better than Betty.”

“When she works.”

Thus began my Monday morning as I sat, squished, in the back seat of Tim’s car.

“You okay back there?” Tim asked with a backward glance.

“I’m fine,” I replied, tugging at my plaid skirt in a vain attempt to cover my legs and wishing I’d worn a skort instead.

I loved my brother’s car. I loved Tim’s car, too. But I hated sitting in the back seat of either of them. For one, the rear seats were designed for small children, not leggy adolescents. For another, it was impossible to exit the car without showing an obscene amount of leg.

This had to be the real reason teenagers in the sixties wore longer skirts.

When they were in eighth grade, Tim and Brady had both decided they wanted to restore their first cars. I guess listening to my dad brag about going to car shows with his prized 1955 Bel Air had inspired them or something. They’d picked their respective cars and had worked on them just about every weekend, though I was sure my dad had helped restore Betty, Tim’s ’69 Camaro, more than he’d tinkered with Veronica, Brady’s ’69 Mustang. And since Tim faithfully restored Betty with special-order parts while Brady scrapped almost everything when he put in a whole new engine, I’d had to endure the new old stock-versus-modern parts debate for years.

In my opinion, they were equally unreliable. It seemed like at least one of them was at Ally’s brother’s garage every month. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Freddie planned his entire calendar around them. These classic cars were gorgeous, for sure, but their maintenance was a pain. And even with Brady’s updated and Tim’s retrofitted engines, their mileage still wasn’t that great compared to the eco-friendly cars that were all over Playa del Lago.

“So how was your weekend, Bianca?” Tim asked.

“Um, it was okay,” I replied, raising my voice to be heard over the wind coming through the open windows. I leaned forward to tap my brother on the shoulder. “Brady, can you close that a little bit? It’s making my skirt fly up.”

Tim reached up to adjust his rearview mirror and smiled when his gaze met mine. “Just okay?”

I shrugged. “I bought a dress.”

“Oh, right. For Homecoming.”

“For the game,” Brady clarified sullenly, “since she’s not going to the dance.”

“Stop it,” I said with a kick to his seat the same time Tim said, “Leave her alone.”

Tim stopped at a light and adjusted his mirror again. Brady glared at him.

“Cut it out, man,” my brother said.

“What?”

Brady stared at him.

Tim sighed, adjusted his mirror one last time, and drove the rest of the way to school in silence.

The two of them had mastered the art of silent conversation. They didn’t exchange a single word, and yet they’d just had an entire discussion that made sense only to them.

Ally was waiting in the senior lot when Tim pulled into his spot.

“Oh no,” she said when she saw Brady get out of the car. “Where’s Veronica?”

“She kept stalling out when I was driving yesterday,” he replied, scratching the back of his head as I scrambled out from the back seat. “I don’t know what it could be. I replaced the fuel injection last month.”

“Maybe it’s something simple like the IAC valve?” she suggested hopefully.

My brother frowned. “I didn’t think to check that.”

Ally shrugged. “It’s probably just dirty. I can check her out after school, if you want,” she offered.

I suppressed a laugh like I always did when Ally talked cars with Tim and Brady. It was funny to hear her with them, but it was even funnier to see other guys’ initial reactions to a proper fashionista talking about carburetors and differentials on a level that blew their minds. Her dad held a bunch of patents for different machines and built hot rods for fun, and she spent time in her brother’s garage, too, so Ally had been around cars and engines her whole life. But just because she could rebuild a transmission didn’t mean she couldn’t love expensive purses and designer perfume.

“Sure, if you don’t mind,” Brady said, sounding relieved. “She’s in the garage. Bianca knows where my spare keys are.”

“You got it,” she replied. “Don’t tell my brother I’m doing this for free, though, okay?”

Ally and I left the senior lot and headed toward homeroom. I’d spent most of Saturday with her shopping for my dress, which was kind of surreal. Mrs. Goldberg had reminded us to get white dresses for the Homecoming floats, but everything I’d tried on made me feel like I belonged on a wedding cake. Since I was in no mood to look at jewelry after we finally settled on a something, the following day, she’d sent me pictures of accessories to consider.

“I mean, your dress has that amazing sweetheart neckline, and I think the right pair of dangle earrings would be perfect,” she had said when we talked on the phone about some of the options she’d sent. “Understated but elegant, you know?”

“My mom and I looked over the earrings you sent,” I told her as we walked.

“Yeah? Anything she liked?”

“She really liked the chandelier earrings you found that kind of had the same design as the tiara.”

“Really?” Ally scrunched up her nose. “I found those on some artsy website,” she said, sounding a bit disappointed that those were my mother’s top choice. “But I’m sure I can get the lady who made them to use Swarovski crystals instead of those cheap glass beads.”

“Hey, Bianca!” someone called.

I turned and saw Sandra, a petite Korean girl, making her way toward us. I stopped, grabbing Ally’s arm to wait. “Hi, Sandra,” I said when she caught up to us.

“Do you have a second? I need to talk to you about the Homecoming float.” She nodded at Ally. “Hi, Allison.”

Ally smiled. “Hey.”

Sandra looked apologetic as she took a deep breath. “Well, we all thought for sure that Zoe would win like she did last year, so we kind of proactively designed the float around her. But then she didn’t win and you did, so I guess I’m just wondering what your dress looks like so I can make sure it’s in keeping with the whole Movie Magic theme.”

It took me a second to process what she had managed to blurt in a single breath, but then I nodded. “Um, sure,” I said. “Do you need to see pictures or anything?”

She shook her head. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. I just wanted to check and see if you’re wearing something that doesn’t fit our float. I mean, we decided to go with this whole New York City backdrop because Zoe had this great dress that kind of looked like Marilyn Monroe’s in
The Seven Year Itch
, so we had this amazing thing going, but now I’m worried that we need to scrap everything we’ve done because you don’t look anything like Marilyn.” She took a deep breath and looked at me expectantly.

I froze and looked to Ally for help.

“She’ll be wearing a fitted floor-length dress with a long slit off-center, and it’s got a corset bodice with a sweetheart neckline,” she replied for me, sounding like a well-trained publicist. “So I’m sure we can figure out something to do that will work with the New York City backdrop. Maybe like a film noir?”

Sandra pursed her lips as she considered this. “Maybe,” she said, drawing out the first syllable while she carefully studied me. “But she looks too innocent. Like, she doesn’t look like she would be cast in a film noir, you know? And can you even do noir in a white dress?”

I grimaced as they continued talking. I was grateful Ally had taken over the conversation, but I hated when people talked about me as though I couldn’t hear them. Even worse, we were stopped in the middle of the hallway, and nothing irritated me more than when people were oblivious to the fact that others were probably hurrying to get somewhere, like class.

“I’ll bet this is more than you expected,” I heard someone say over my shoulder. I jumped and found Dante grinning at me.

“Must you?” I asked, trying to sound annoyed, though I could feel myself melting at the sight of his smile. How did he manage to look so amazing in the same dark green polo that probably a third of the guys in school were wearing that day?

“It’s fun catching you off-guard,” he said with a shrug.

“For you, maybe.” I tapped Ally on the arm and hooked a thumb in the direction of our class. When she looked at Dante and nodded in understanding, I continued on to homeroom, Dante walking beside me.

“Sandra seems stressed,” he observed.

“Doesn’t she always?” Ally often said Sandra reminded her of a high-strung Pekingese puppy, and I had to agree.

“Well, maybe more than usual.”

“She’s freaking out about the float and whether or not she’ll be able to design it around me,” I said. “Who knew being a princess was so involved?”

Dante chuckled. “You mean you didn’t get the Princess Handbook?”

“I guess Mrs. Goldberg forgot to give me a copy of it when she stuck the tiara onto my head,” I mumbled.

We stopped in front of my class, and Dante lifted a lock of hair that had freed itself from my ponytail and twirled it around his finger. He was incredibly close; I was almost afraid to breathe. I could see flecks of gold in his hazel eyes and caught the faint smell of peppermint on his breath. There was also an almost sweet scent on his clothes, a heady citrus and leather and pepper combination. “If you ever get the handbook,” he said quietly, touching his forehead to mine, “just make sure you read up on the chapter about Prince Charming.”

I licked my lips. “I can’t imagine there would be enough material to fill an entire chapter, though,” I replied.

He laughed and stood up straight. “I’ll see you at lunch,” he promised before he walked away.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and walked into the classroom, surprised to see Talia already there.

“Where were you this morning?” I asked, sliding into the seat in front of her. “You weren’t with Ally.”

“Jake invited me to an early rehearsal. You know that Ephemera’s playing in a Battle of the Bands competition this weekend, right?”

“Yeah, he mentioned it at the pep rally.”

“I totally spaced on telling you guys. I heard about it a couple of weeks ago but didn’t even think about the dates or anything.”

Ally rushed into class and sat at the desk beside me as the bell rang.

“You guys, you guys, you guys,” she gushed.

“What?”

“How did I not know this? I swear, I’m like living in a cave or something.”

Talia’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Dante dumped Zoe last Thursday,” Ally announced, her green eyes gleaming as she tapped furiously on her phone. We didn’t need ask what she was doing; we knew she was blogging.

I frowned. “I didn’t know they were going out.”

Ally didn’t bother to hide her exasperation. “Okay, you’re totally living under a rock,” she said, looking at me in earnest. “Do you not read anything I write?” She let out a heavy sigh when I didn’t respond. “Okay, remember how he was going out with Jenna, but then he got bored with her and went out with Emily for a couple of weeks before he and Zoe became a thing?” I shook my head, and she groaned in frustration. “Why do I bother?”

“So he just dumped her?” Talia asked. “Like, out of nowhere?”

“Well, that’s what Sandra said Zoe told her,” Ally replied, her short nails clicking against the glass on her phone as if she was tapping an urgent message in Morse code. “And so now she’s totally freaking out trying to find a date for Homecoming.”

“Poor Zoe,” I mused.

“Mmm-hmm,” Talia agreed. “First Dante dumps her, and then she loses her crown. How very sad for her.” She raised an eyebrow and looked at me.

“What’s that look for?”

“You’re the Sophomore Class Princess,” she reminded me. “That essentially means you’re the new It Girl of our class, and I’m telling you, Dante’s only interested in you because of that tiara.”

“Oh, come on,” I said with a huff. “He broke up with her the day before the court was even announced. It’s not like he could have known.”

“Fine. Then it’s a remarkable coincidence that he’s suddenly paying all sorts of attention to you when he probably didn’t even know your name a few weeks ago.”

“That’s so not true,” I retorted as Mr. Jorgensen called over the sound of the second bell for everyone to take their seats. “He voted for me,” I whispered over my shoulder. “He told me so after the pep rally.”

From the corner of my eye, I could see Ally grinning, but I didn’t have to turn around to know Talia’s expression was far different.

“What a great guy,” Talia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Didn’t even vote for his own girlfriend. He probably didn’t think she could win.”

“What?”

“If it’s true that he voted for you,” she said in hushed tones behind me, “then he was expecting Zoe to lose. Jake and Finn did too good of a job getting your name out.”

I turned and frowned at her. “Maybe he voted for me because he actually likes me.”

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. I faced forward to listen to the morning announcements, thinking this conversation was over, but Talia whispered behind me, “Or maybe he only said he voted for you to make you think he does.”

Much to Talia’s and Finn’s dismay, Dante showed up at lunch to join us. The tension was even more palpable because it was just the four of us. Ally was holed up in the student council office working on last-minute Homecoming preparations, and Jake was rehearsing with his bandmates in the music room. I had to give my friends credit, though. They may not have been hospitable, but they weren’t outright rude, either, even though I knew Talia was waiting for the chance to tell him off.

“You don’t have to eat with us, you know,” I said to him for the third time. He was sitting across from me, his back to his friends, and I could see they were looking our way. Zoe and her friends were talking and pointing. It made me uneasy.

“I know,” he said, reaching for my hand. “But I want to.”

I looked down at his hand covering mine and felt my cheeks grow hot as my pulse raced. I leaned forward and whispered, “It looks like your friends are wondering why you’re here, though.”

He glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. “Let them wonder.” He squeezed my hand and smiled at me, and I felt my insides melt.

Dante showed up between each period to walk me to class, too, and I wanted to squeal each time I saw him waiting. I loved the attention he was giving me, especially when he held my hand as we walked through the halls and opened doors for me.

I’d never had a boyfriend before, and this was exactly how I imagined one would behave.

“So, what are you doing after school?” he asked as we walked to my last period Spanish class. “Your brother has football practice, right? Do you wait around for him?”

“I’m getting a ride home with Finn,” I replied. “His mom is picking us up right after school, and Ally’s hanging out at my house. Why?”

His frown almost looked like a pout. “I just want to see you.”

I laughed. “I’ll be here tomorrow.”

We paused at the door and he took my hand. “I really like you,” he said, looking down intently at me.

My stomach tightened, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but I offered a shy smile. “I like you, too,” I said. Over his shoulder, I could see Señora Gutierrez, my Spanish teacher, approaching, so I quickly pulled my hand out of his grasp. “I’ll see you later. I have to go,” I whispered before I ducked into the room.

Once in class, I couldn’t concentrate on verb tenses or vocabulary or anything else Señora Gutierrez was prattling on about. All I could think about was Dante, the way his eyes shone when he looked at me, the little dimple that appeared when he smiled, the feel of his hand holding mine. He was easily the cutest guy in the sophomore class.
And he liked me!

If I wasn’t in school, I would have hugged myself with glee.

I was still smiling when Mrs. Marks dropped Ally and me off at my house.

“You are in an exceptionally good mood today,” Ally noticed as we walked into the house. “What did I miss?”

I paused and bit my lip before I gushed, “Don’t tell Talia, but Dante told me he really likes me.”

She gasped, and her eyes were wide. “Like, likes you? Or
likes you
likes you?”

“
Likes me
likes me,” I replied. “I think.”

Ally and I squealed and jumped up and down.

“He is so cute,” she said.

“I know, right?”

“So, wait. Does this mean you’re going with him on Saturday?”

I furrowed my brow. “I don’t think so. I mean, he didn’t ask.”

“Well, the rest of us can always have the Bond marathon at my house,” she offered after a pause. “Just let me know.”

I nodded absently. “Yeah, okay.”

Until Ally had mentioned it, I’d forgotten about the Homecoming Dance. I mean, I’d spent the last few months telling my brother I absolutely did not want to go to Homecoming, mainly because I wanted to go with someone who liked me. And suddenly, there was this chance that I could have a date — a real date! Ally didn’t seem to mind, but Talia would be furious with me if I went with Dante, especially since the three of us already had plans for the entire weekend.

“Do you really think he’d ask?” I asked, handing my friend a bottle of water from the fridge. “I mean, it’s kind of short notice, don’t you think? Like, really short notice.”

“Does it matter?”

I frowned. The whole idea of rearranging my entire schedule for a guy didn’t seem right. Plus I had no intention of flaking out on my friends, even if it was to go out with Dante.

“I don’t want to cancel our marathon,” I said. “It’s tradition, you know?”

Ally looked uncertain. “Are you sure? I mean, no offense to you guys or anything, but I’d totally ditch you for Dante.”

I laughed and tossed her Brady’s car keys. “At least you’re honest.”

While Ally was in the garage looking at my brother’s car, I tried to do some homework, but I couldn’t concentrate.
The Scarlet Letter
wasn’t making a whole lot of sense, events of European history were kind of blurring together, and the difference between mitosis and meiosis seemed negligible at most. After almost an hour, I gave up trying to focus and gave myself a pedicure instead.

“Do you know if your brother has ever changed his fuel filter?” Ally said as she came back into the house while I applied the second coat of polish. She washed her hands in the kitchen sink and dried them on a towel before plopping down onto the couch beside me. “It was, like, really hard to blow air through it.”

“Is that what’s wrong with his car?”

“I don’t think that was it, exactly. He definitely needed to clean his IAC valve. I was right about that. But I did, like, half a tune up while I was out there and checked his filter. I swapped it out for the new one he had in the cabinet.”

“You should charge him for that,” I suggested.

“I know, right?” she said, her head bobbing in agreement. “Either that, or he should really let my brother handle Veronica’s maintenance if he’s not going to do it right.” She folded her legs into the lotus position and sat up straight. “Anyway, don’t narc me out for doing it without a license, but I drove her around the block a couple of times to check her out. She seems fine now.”

I smiled at her. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Well, spread the word. I need more publicity.” She noted my freshly painted toes. “Green?”

“I thought you’d be proud,” I said, trying to look hurt. “I’m displaying my school spirit.”

“And totally not doing homework,” she observed. When I groaned in protest, she laughed and pulled me to my feet. “Come on. Geometry is always more fun when you have company to share in the misery.”