Page 42 of Electricity

“ S o you’re going…with Darius.” Sarah repeated back to me, like she hadn’t heard me correctly.

“Yep.”

“What about Liam?”

“He’s a sophomore, he can’t go.”

“But Darius—I thought you hated him?”

“I did until recently. It’s complicated.”

“Uh-huh.” She made a face. “I don’t suppose I can get you to wait until you’re a junior and you can go on your own without a boy anyhow? I mean, this seems sort of desperate.”

“He’s not that bad.”

“He has a reputation.”

“Who doesn’t, these days?”

“Yeah—I heard about you sending Danny photos. Ryan told me. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. As if you would ever do something like that. I wouldn’t believe you’d sent him a picture of your bra even if I saw your own boobs were inside of it.”

And even though I was lying to her, my heart swelled with the power of female friendship. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“So the thing is now I need to find a cheap dress. Between now and Friday.”

“That’s rough.” She brought a finger up to her lips in pensive thought on my behalf. “Unless…you’re not gonna be picky, are you?”

“Psssh. It’s just Darius.” Lying, again—only this time to myself.

“In that case, I think I can bring you something to try out tomorrow. My sister’s bridesmaid dress for my cousin.”

Sarah’s sister and I were roughly the same size. It was perfect. “Oh, Sarah—that’s awesome!”

“Don’t get too excited, till you see it, okay? It was a Christmas wedding. And she left it at home when she went to college.”

Meaning if it was cute she would’ve taken it with her. But beggars and choosers and all that. “Whatever it is, it’s perfect,” I said, and Ms. Liebel started class.

I ate lunch in the library again with my eyes and ears in the other-world.

By now the gossip machine had made a full rotation—Danny himself had apparently taken my photo, of my bra, on his floor, me presumably naked in his room with him.

Which explained a lot of the looks I was getting in the halls, boys looking at me hopefully and girls pretending that I didn’t exist. All that, after one chaste and non-descriptive photo? No wonder Lacey was so freaked.

I got to chemistry in one piece though, and ignored Liam’s purposeful ignoring of me right back, and when class was finished I went outside as fast as I could—and wound up almost running into Darius.

“Hey,” he said. “Got tickets.”

I couldn’t help it. I beamed at him. And for a second, it was like it’d been under the shadow of the cell-phone tower, all shining white and crackling. “Awesome,” I said, and fully meant it.

I was so enamored in that moment that I hardly realized Liam roughly brushing by me.

Darius was waiting for me beside his car after last period, leaning against it. It was hard to walk straight out to it and not do something stupid, like skip. He smiled at seeing me, then beeped it open so we could both get in. “So, uh, you heard you gave Danny a blow-job this past weekend, right?”

“Yeah. In between kissing you, saving Ms. Harper’s life, and going to the hospital. I’m a busy girl.” I fastened my seatbelt. “I can’t believe what a liar Danny is.”

“The problem is this school is deprived of real gossip. If you had feuding gangs here, people wouldn’t care who fucked who.”

My eyes met his in the rear-view mirror—he was amused/bemused/serious and I was trying and failing not to crush hard. “Let’s start one,” I said, trying to sound cavalier. “What’ll we call ourselves?”

“The Electric Company,” he answered, without a second thought.

“I like it.”

“Me too,” he said. Then he popped his car into reverse and we were on our way out.

Allie was playing at our neighbors when Darius dropped me off—and the second she saw me getting out of a strange car she raced over.

“Who was that?”

“A friend.”

“Why haven’t I met him yet?”

“Because he’s just a friend,” I asserted, ignoring the way she was squinting up at me. “He gave me a ride, okay? I hate the bus.”

This confused her even more. “I like the bus.”

“Why?”

“Because I get to hang out with all my friends.” She looked back at the passel of other elementary school kids playing tag next door—their tag game had likely began on the bus itself.

I could remember when Sarah, Lacey, and I had been like that too.

Heck, even when we’d used to include Emily and Kortney.

“Stay like that. Forever. It is so much easier than high school.”

Her tiny brows furrowed in confusion and then she ran off, because tag was way more fun than me.

I let myself into the trailer with my key and didn’t hear any signs of life or see any fresh beer cans, so my mom was either still asleep or hiding till dinner time. Come to think of it, I wasn’t entirely sure she’d even been in the house this morning. Barbara’d given her a ride last night.

I did my homework and worried. What if Mason wasn’t interested in Darius’s latest find? We were nearing the end of season, did the baseball team ever get tested? I had a hard time imagining the team negotiating with underclassmen for clean pee.

And then, when we were together, how would I get his phone?

And then then, what if did, and the pictures weren’t even there?

I wished there were a way to be more sure about a lot of things—everything, really.

The only thing I felt good about right now was Darius—so I tried not to think on that, because I didn’t want to figure out a way to worry about him, too.

I was so busy worrying-not-worrying that I missed the sound of another car pulling up outside, and a loud-rap on the front door startled the hell out of me.

“Just a second!” I yelped, and turned toward the window to look out. Sarah’s car was in the drive-way and my sister was racing back over and I heard my mother’s bedroom door open up.

Oh. Shit.

I raced for the door and flung it wide.

“Here you go!” she said, handing me a grocery bag. I peeked inside, and all I saw was red velvet. “Christmas wedding. I warned you.”

“That’s totally awesome—thank you so much!” I tried to sound sincere while pushing her back, but it was too late, my mother arrived.

“Sarah! It’s been so long!” My mother had clearly just gotten out of bed, her make-up from the prior night still on, all of it half-a-centimeter out of place.

“Hey Ms. McMullen!” Sarah said.

“What’s that?” my mother asked, looking at the bag.

Sarah, God bless her, realized what was going on from the panicked look on my face and tried. “It’s nothing,” she said.

But I knew beyond knowing that if I got grounded again now, my mother would stay home on Friday personally to make sure that I couldn’t go—and I had to be there. So I turned to my mom with a megawatt smile.

“Mom—Liam Lewis asked me to prom!”

My mother’s eyes widened. “Liam asked you out? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” I protested.

My mother looked at me, completely baffled, and then took my head between her hands. “Honey, this is the most important moment of your high school life. Next time, wake me!”

“I will, I will,” I promised, should such another imaginary date ever occur, and then I turned to Sarah who was doing a very good job of hiding her surprise at my blatant lie.

“Yeah, so,” she stumbled, and then picked up steam. “My sister went to my cousin’s wedding and was a bridesmaid.”

My mother had already shucked the dress out of the bag and was holding it up. It was floor length and high-waisted with cap sleeves and holly embroidered around the neck in green bugle beads.

“Christmas wedding?” my mother asked, and Sarah nodded.

The thing was easily a foot longer than I was tall. And for once my mother read my dismay and said the right thing. “Honey, you would be surprised what scissors and properly applied hem tape can get you.”

“Thanks Mom,” I said, and meant it, and turning to Sarah I tried to say a hundred different thank-yous with my eyes.

“So, anyways,” Sarah said, backing out. “I’ve gotta get home for dinner,” she said and waved, and I followed her.

“Thank you so, so, much,” I whispered.

She shook her head. “You owe me. Assuming you make it past this weekend alive. How’re you going to explain Darius showing up? Or the fact that Liam’s a sophomore and can’t buy prom tickets?”

“I’ll think of something between now and then.”

“You’d better,” she said, then hugged me quickly, before getting in her car.

My mother had me pull the dress on shortly after dinner.

I hauled it on in the bathroom, thankful that it had a high enough back to hide my Lichtenberg figure-marks.

I was what, ten days out from getting hit?

They were definitely fading—I pressed a hand against the flare near my shoulder and watched it go from white to red, less bright than it’d been a week ago, before contorting the zipper all the way up.

By the time I came back to the living room, my mother was prepared with needles, scissors, and thread.

This was a side of her I’d never seen before, but from the way she pinned and snipped, I felt confident she used to sew.

What other things were there about her that I didn’t know, that I might never know, because I couldn’t glean them from her phone?

“It’ll be hard, but it’s not impossible.

” She’d clipped the dress to just under my knees and was pinning a hem, while Allie used the extra velvet as a springy trampoline to launch dolls into the air.

Without the extra fabric weighing it down, it was almost swingy.

Old-fashioned, yes, but wearable. “You’re on your own picking out all those beads.

I’d start at the back, where the neckline’s hidden by your hair—and if the velvet underneath looks too ratty, stop and knot it off.

We could maybe sew some trim on instead, it’s not like proms are ever well lit. ”

I’d been using my time under her inspection to formulate a decent lie—one that I knew was true enough, for other people.

“There’s just one thing, Mom.”

“Hmmm?” she said, mouth full of pins.

“Liam’s just a sophomore, like me. He’s got two junior friends going—he already gave them money for my ticket—but he has to go in with her, and I have to go in with him—and then once we’re on the inside we can hang out together.

” It sounded increasingly ludicrous as I said it. “Essentially, we’re crashing prom.”

Please please please please please believe.

She rocked back, holding the pins in her mouth like she held a cigarette and spoke around them. “I figured there’d be some shenanigans involved. Seeing how last minute this was,” she said, gesturing to my dress.

“Honestly, Mom, he may not even like me that much, in that way—Hailey broke up with him, I think he just wants to have fun with a nice friend.”

“Things like that can change, faster than you expect.” She reached out for the dress and shook it some, watching it spin.

“You’re gonna be safe, right? And—I can’t be worrying about you all night.

I want you to text me a photo of you, home, in bed, holding up three fingers by midnight.

I don’t care what parties are going on or anything else—that’s firm.

You’re still,” she said, looking up, searching for the right word.

“My little girl. For another year or two.”

Here she was being so nice, so perfectly Mom-like, and I was lying. I almost wanted to cry.

“I am the littlest girl,” Allie informed both of us, looking at me unkindly.

My mother reached over, ruffled her hair, and continued her strong run of momness. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I haven’t forgotten.”