Am I Pretty Yet?

Chapter Four

He lifted his head and every ounce of fear I had in my body earlier drained out of me. Harrison, with his T-shirt clinging to his sculpted chest, with his face dripping beads of rain and his hair covered in thousands of droplets. He looked like the most adorable wet dog I had ever seen in the bane of my existence, only human.

"I tried... banging on... your window..."

"I didn't hear anything."

"Because you were watching that stupid TV show again," he said, sounding a little less breathless and a little more sane as a teenage boy doused in rain can get. "The lights in your neighborhood went out."

I looked around at the houses in our cul-de-sac, realizing he was right. The whole round looked like The Twilight Zone. All the neighbors were outside on their lawns, holding umbrellas and flashlights, making sure their newly cut hedges and drain pipes were alright. Mrs. McLauren from across the street shined her flashlight at me, and I squinted, putting my hand up to my face.

"You okay over there, doll?" she called out from the safety of her front porch. She was in her peach fuzz bathrobe with curlers in her hair and a James Patterson novel in her unoccupied hand. I smiled. She was the only person who called me doll, and it comforted me.

"Yes, Mrs. McLauren! Thank you!" I yelled in return. She shined her flashlight on another neighbor, asking the same thing. I sighed, shivers already running up and down my arms as rain drops soaked their way down the front of my T-shirt.

"I still don't understand why you're here," I said to Harrison, who was looking more and more like a sheep dog. I was sure I just looked like a weeping willow. My hair was draped around my shoulders, and my bangs stuck to my forehead uncomfortably.

"My mom wanted me to check on you. She's in the car over there. You're sleeping over tonight at our place," he said. I craned my neck to look at Harrison's mom, Mrs. Clarence, in her mini van. She waved a hand outside her window, her wedding ring sparkling even in the dark. I waved back. "You know how you're like the daughter she never had."

I beamed, clasping my hands behind my back. Harrison's mother had always been overwhelmingly kind to me. She knew all of my favorite dishes, and for my birthday three years ago she had made me peanut butter crumble crisp, which were thin peanut butter flavored cookies, light and flaky and delicious. To this day, they were my absolute favorite dessert.

"My mom-"

"Has already been contacted by mine," Harrison cut in. "Now come on. Go get your duffel bag. You're starting to look like a sheep dog."

"So are you," I shot back, racing inside my house.

. . . .

"The rain was so heavy that it caused a short circuit in the electric boxes of everyone's homes," Mrs. Clarence explained, turning the steering wheel and making a sharp right onto Chateau Court. "I told Harrison right away to go and check on you because I remember how afraid of the dark you were when you were in middle school."

"She was thirteen, Mom," Harrison said, rolling his eyes at me. I shook my head, smiling in amusement. Harrison was at a certain stage in his life where everything about his mother irritated him, from the way she folded his laundry to her stubborn refusal to not dye the white hairs growing on her scalp to her constant scolding about the choice of his attire before he left the house.

"Thanks, Mrs. Clarence," I butted in, shooting Harrison a don't-be-rude look. He lightly nudged my rib with his elbow.

"Are you seriously going to try out for the Melway Beauty Pageant?" he whispered so that his mother wouldn't hear. I shrugged, thinking back to how the other day Richel had emailed me the form to fill out in order to enter the contest. I had merely stared at it, letting the blinking cursor hover over the words in bold italics stating that this was, indeed, a three part competition. First Melway, then Miss Teen USA, and then Miss American Teen. This didn't make sense to me because Miss Teen USA and Miss American Teen practically meant the same exact thing...