Gloria's wise words stayed with me that week at school, and all Saturday afternoon as I sat next to Courtney at a new salon in the Meadow Wood shopping plaza getting glammed up for the prom. A chatty man gave me a flawless French manicure while a quiet woman concentrated on pulling back my dark chocolate tresses into a fancy French twist updo. I was so thankful for their careful attention when I looked in the mirror. Getting ready for the prom felt like some kind of a ritual. A rite of passage for the American teenage girl.
The salon was packed with other girls from Meadow Wood High, including Katelyn Powers. She sat just a few seats away, getting her platinum locks twisted back into a half-up, half-down style. Instead of the usual fear which made me cower like an abused dog, I looked over at her like a queen from her throne, sitting up tall and smiling triumphantly.
Courtney leaned over. "I bet the jealousy is just eating her up inside. Look at her."
"Yeah, totally," I said.
Katelyn sat reading Cosmopolitan magazine. The cover read "50 Ways to Please Your Man." I wondered if I should be reading an article like that. Just to study up. Gloria mentioned that Zach had been around the block a few times. I had this instant realization of what she meant. That familiar feeling of self-doubt washed over me. I had big shoes to fill and felt compelled to outdo Katelyn in every way.
"You know," I learned over and whispered to Courtney, "Jordan said Zach's been with Katelyn for a year. I've never even had a boyfriend. Is there another issue of Cosmo around her somewhere? I feel like I need some pointers."
Courtney laughed as her stylist pinned back her rose gold hair into a perfect high bun.
"Don't worry. He'll show you the ropes. Guys probably live for stuff like that. You know, corrupting the innocent." She winked, looking like a fashion model.
"You look like a million bucks," I told her.
"You, too! Just wait until we do our makeup and get our dresses on. Leo and Zach are going to be so impressed."
When we walked up to the cash register, the total rang up for over one hundred dollars for my hair and nails. Luckily, Gloria gave me five twenty-dollar bills fresh from the ATM, which was just enough for a tip. I felt a little bad about spending my parents' hard-earned money, but this night was worth it. I was itching to get home and get dolled up for Zach. I reached into my purse for my keys and came up empty handed.
"Oh, crap," I groaned. "I can't find my keys. I hope I didn't lock them in the car."
We ran to the Firebird and there, in the ignition, my keychain dangled just out of reach. "I can't believe this!"
"Just run inside the salon and ask to use the phone. Your mom or dad can come help. They've got to have a spare or something."
"My dad's at a trade show in Vegas and my mom's not home from my brother's baseball game yet," I panicked and glanced at my watch. "Zach and Leo are going to meet us at my house in an hour and a half. We still need to do our makeup and get dressed."
"I'll call my mom," Courtney said and bolted into the salon.
I waited by the car in my denim skirt and button up sleeveless shirt. An older man with salt and pepper gray hair and a limp walked out of the convenience store next door to the salon, looked me up and down, and whistled. I felt dirty all over. He climbed into his BMW sedan and drove away. Moments later, a truck filled with construction workers rolled through the parking lot. The passengers cat-called and the driver honked and made kissing face at me. I wanted to crawl inside the safety of my car and speed away from these disgusting men, but I was stuck.
"No one's home," Courtney said as she walked out of the salon. "I'll try again in a few minutes."
"You need some help, little lady?" It was a sweaty, middle-aged man leaning out of a landscaping truck. I wanted to ignore him, but I felt a little desperate.
"Yeah, I locked my keys in my car," I said and motioned at the Firebird.
"That is one sweet ride," he said and got out of his truck. The man reached into the back and came back with a long metal tool, thinner than a crow bar. "Shame to waste it on a couple of girls with no appreciation for this car's craftsmanship."
He lifted up the tool, ready to slide it between the door and the window.
I rolled back my shoulders back and stepped between the man and the Firebird.
"I'll have you know that I helped restore this car with my Dad. I did a lot of the bodywork and put on new brake pads myself. I know how to change the oil and top off the fluids. I can put her up on a trolley jack and change a tire, if I need to. And, I'd know the sound of this V8 engine anywhere." I tapped on the hood. "She's a 1967 Pontiac Firebird convertible, the first of her kind, and one of only 15,000 ever made. A classic pony car with 350 horsepower, and I don't want you to go anywhere near her with that thing."
He waved his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. Just trying to help."
I watched him saunter back to his truck in defeat and drive away.
"Dang, you told him off!" Courtney awed and gave me a high five. "But, we still have a problem."
"I guess we can walk home? It will probably take half-an-hour."
"Well, let's get moving," Courtney said.
It took us nearly forty-five minutes to get back to my house. We got honked at five times. It made my blood boil—that, and the 80-degree weather. Gloria's Dodge sedan sat in the driveway.
"Where have you been?" she yelled when we walked in. "Why are you girls all sweaty?"
"I locked my keys in the car," I said. "We had to walk home."
"From the salon? Why didn't you just wait for me to get home? I could have come to get you. Now, your hair is and mess and I barely have time to put your face on."
I growled in frustration. This day was supposed to be perfect, but we were running late and I felt so agitated. Zach would be here in less than an hour. Courtney barely had time to get dressed and it was my fault.
"Mom, can you drive Courtney home so she can get ready?" I asked.
Gloria grabbed her keys. "Get upstairs and get cleaned up. You don't have much time."
I stormed off to the bathroom to wipe down my sweaty underarms with a washcloth and a bar of soap. I rolled on my Teen Spirit "Pink Crush" scented deodorant and doused myself in the expensive perfume. Using a comb, I slicked back my flyaway hairs with gooey Dep hair gel. I painstakingly brushed my teeth and my tongue, and rinsed with mouthwash twice for the freshest breath possible.
"Relax. It's all going to work out," I told myself.
Tonight would likely be a milestone—my first kiss. I giggled with delight at the thought of Zach taking me in his arms and planting one right on my lips. I waltzed into my room, stripped down and swapped out my everyday white cotton briefs for a pair of silky black bikini cut underwear I bought one day at Victoria's Secret. I kept them hidden in the bottom of my bedside drawer for an occasion like this. I wanted to feel sexy, even if I wasn't quite sure what that entailed. Next, came white strapless bustier we bought on our dress shopping expedition. The thing was one part puzzle, one part torture device. It took me three minutes to figure out how to put it on.
Looking in the mirror, I blushed at the woman staring back at me. I put on my black high heels and black, elbow-length gloves, and I struck a sexy pose in the mirror. I winked and blew a kiss, just like one of those pin-up girls from the fifties.
The phone next to my bed rang. I snatched it up before Ryan could answer it downstairs. "Hello?"
"What's up, Josephine?"
Why is Leo calling me now, right before the dance? He's so annoying."Hi," I muttered.
"Sorry to bother you. You're probably, like, shaving your legs or plucking your eyebrows or whatever girls do before they go to a dance. Look. I've got to leave to pick up Courtney in a few minutes, so I'll make it short..."
"Thanks. I'm not even dressed yet," I complained.
"Not dressed?" His voice dropped into a mischievous tone. "What are you wearing?"
"Uh—" I hesitated. "My underwear."
"What kind?"
It seemed like an inappropriate question, but I played along. "A white lace bustier and black silk panties." The word panties made me giggle. I could hear him breathing into the mouthpiece. I remembered myself and quit flirting. "Why did you call?"
"Uh, yeah. I wanted to talk to you before Zach got there. I guess I just wanted to make my intentions clear."
"Your intentions?" I asked.
"I know you've had your eye on Zach for a long time, and he's, well, Zach. Every girl in our grade probably has a crush on him, but you've got to admit, Josephine, we have some real chemistry. And, I like you. 'I like you a lot.'" He imitated the voice of the actor Jim Carrey in the movie Dumb and Dumber. I smiled. "Whatever happens between you and Zach tonight, just know that I'm the one who really cares about you."
My smile crumbled. "Zach cares about me. He asked me to the dance."
"Yeah, but he's also coming out of a long-term relationship and he's been hurt. That's kind of a recipe for disaster."
I scoffed. "Katelyn is a miserable person and she mistreated him. What he really needs is someone sweet. Someone real. Like me. I appreciate you telling me how you feel, but I owe it to myself to explore this relationship with Zach."
"You don't have a relationship. He just asked you to a dance. Don't think you've got him wrapped around your finger. He's just looking for someone to make him forget about Katelyn for a while. Someone to fool around with. He's using you."
"That's bull," I nearly yelled. "No one's using anyone, thank you very much."
"Just don't be a cliché."
"Goodbye, Leo."