Chapter Seven
"Listen up, class," Mrs. Wilson commanded. The loud class suddenly quieted as we all looked over to the grouchy teacher.
"As you all know, the back-to-school fundraiser party is this Saturday," she began. Yes, every year our school held a fundraiser party meant for the wealthy adults in our community to attend and donate a crap load of money to our school, mainly for the athletic, drama, and music programs. In previous years I didn't mind attending so much because the dance classes always put on a show, which the band usually played for. However, considering that there were no dance classes this year, I'd get to miss the party this year. Thank goodness.
"...and Dakota and Gage will be stationed at the gallery for the evening," Mrs. Wilson finished.
My eyes snapped over to her. "Wait, what?"
She narrowed her eyes at me, probably knowing I wasn't paying attention to her until she mentioned my name. "Since you weren't listening to me, I'll repeat myself once more. The current projects everyone has been working on will be finished by Saturday, when you and Gage will help me set them up in the gallery space at the fundraiser party."
"But Mrs. Wilson—" My protest was cut off by the bell, so I quickly gathered my belongings before talking to the teacher again while everyone else practically ran out of the classroom. "Mrs. Wilson, are you sure I'm the best person to stay by the gallery? I mean, not only do I not get along with Gage, but I don't know anything about art or—"
"Dakota, I'm choosing you to do this for a reason. I can see over the past few days you've been making progress with Gage, so think of this as another assignment for you both. Everyone has their role to play for the night of the fundraiser. Now I must prepare for tomorrow's project," she said, pushing me out the door.
I gaped at the door she closed in front of me for a moment. That's it; I've come to the conclusion that she's literally insane. Did she really think Gage and I have been getting along the past few days? I guess she didn't hear the insults he muttered to me or the threats I threw his way.
When I marched toward Harlow's car in the parking lot, I immediately relayed to her what just happened. I was expecting her to feel a little bad for me and tell me not to worry about it. I wasn't expecting her to burst out laughing though, which is exactly what she did.
"It's not funny! Going to the party when I was a dancer was one thing, but now I have to go and stand by a bunch of artwork the whole time? With the one person I hate? This is a nightmare!" I complained as she started the car.
"Don't worry, I'll be there as a waitress," she said, still grinning over my predicament. I sighed and looked out the window, wondering who else was going to be there. Most of the students who were in the athletic, drama, or music program were forced to attend the party as a waiter, waitress, host, or any other staff role during the evening.
"I better get a break sometime during the evening," I stated, trying to take my mind off of spending more time than necessary with Gage.
By the time Friday came, I was already dreading the wondrous party I'd have to attend the next day. I got through the day though, until Gage decided to be the same jerk he always is.
"Stop putting so much pressure on the pencil," he ordered, reaching for the pencil I was holding. "Hold it like this," he demonstrated.
I shot him an annoyed glare and took the pencil from his hand. "I know."
"Obviously you don't since I've had to correct you at least ten times now."
I let out a dramatic sigh. "Working with you tomorrow is just going to be so great," I said sarcastically.
"Maybe if you made more of an effort, I wouldn't be stuck with you at the gallery," he said, working on his own artwork.
I almost broke the pencil I was holding in frustration. "It's not like I didn't try to talk my way out of it. Believe me, I know you'd rather spend quality time with Marissa or someone else besides me. I feel the same way...minus the Marissa part," I said to him.
He stared back at me with his usual blank expression until he asked, "Who's Marissa?"
I raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you serious?" He paused, still waiting for an answer. "She's the girl over there. You know, the one who always has that gooey look in her eyes when you flirt with her?"
He looked over to where Marissa was sitting. When she looked up at him, he winked at her, causing her to blush and giggle stupidly. "Oh, her. I thought her name was Melissa. Thanks for clearing that up, Dakota."
I rolled my eyes. "Kody," I corrected, "and you're pathetic."
"How am I pathetic for flirting with someone? Just because you don't flirt doesn't mean it's pathetic."
"I do so flirt," I said defensively. "Just because I don't stoop low enough to flirt with you doesn't mean I don't flirt."
He glared at me at my last comment. "Fine, name one person you flirt with," he argued. "Besides Mason," he added.
"I don't flirt with Mason, but whatever. I flirt with...I don't know, random hot guys."
"Then name one person in particular."
I huffed, adjusting myself in my seat. "I flirt with..." I tried thinking of one person, but I couldn't think of anyone at the moment. It's not like I always had specific people I flirted with like he did as one of the school's players.
"Well?" he said smugly.
I didn't want him to be right, so I blurted out the first name that came to mind. "David!" I smiled sheepishly at the people in the room who turned to stare at my loud outburst. I cleared my throat, "I flirt with David," I said quieter.
He paused before saying, "then you can't really say I'm pathetic for flirting with someone."
"Well I don't flirt with almost every girl—well, guy—I see, unlike you. It's different when you're only flirting with one person you want to be with."
Anger flickered in his blue eyes, probably because I proved him wrong. "Whatever," he replied coldly, turning back to his artwork. I grinned and turned back to my own work, satisfied I won this little argument.
Soon enough the school day ended and I found myself being dragged through the mall. Apparently Harlow didn't have an appropriate white or black outfit, which was required for the students to wear to the fundraiser party. I could've sworn she had three black dresses in her closet that were fine to wear, but Harlow would take any chance she could to get a new one.
"Go try this on," she demanded, pushing me into a dressing room.
"Harlie, I already have a black dress—"
"I know, but white looks so much better with your tan skin," she said. I rolled my eyes at her even though she couldn't see, and tried on the dress. "Help me with the zipper, would you?" Harlow complied before telling me to spin around.
"It looks amazing on you! Seriously, you have to get it," she told me.
"I don't know..." I said, looking at myself in the mirror. It was a cute dress, no doubt, but I wasn't so sure it looked good on me. It was a simple, strapless white satin dress that came just above the knees. In the center of the sweetheart top was a diamond shaped pattern.
"If you're not going to get it, I will and I'll force it on you before the party," she threatened. I laughed at her on my way back in the dressing room.
"Fine, I'll get it! No need for violence, Harlie."
*****
Saturday came all too soon. I woke up as late as I could sleep, trying to waste time before I had to get ready. It was useless though; I woke up around ten, which was much earlier than I should have woken up.
Anyway, I wasted time around the house for a few hours until I had to start getting ready. I did my hair first, putting half of it back while the rest appeared wavy down my back. Next I worked on my makeup, opting for only a light lavender eye shadow and black mascara. I was never one to wear a ton of makeup.
As I was putting on my dress, I heard the doorbell ring. Figuring it was Harlow, I ignored it since she'd burst through the door herself anyway. When the doorbell rang again, I called downstairs for someone to get it. Hearing nothing in reply, I assumed someone was getting the door while I tried zipping my dress myself. Once again, the doorbell rang, prompting me to let out a frustrated sigh. I quickly slipped on my black pumps and grabbed my silver bracelet and earrings before making my way downstairs.
"Thanks for getting the door!" I called out sarcastically. I knew my sister was home, so she probably just ignored me on purpose.
I rushed over to the door while keeping my arm across the top of my unzipped dress. "You could've just let yourself in," I started saying as I opened the door.
"Somehow I don't think you'd like that very much."
My eyes widened once they made contact with Gage rather than my best friend. He wore a black suit, as I imagined most of the male students attending would wear. "What are you doing here?"
"Mason said I needed to pick you up," he explained, stepping into my house. I rolled my eyes at that and shut the door.
"Harlow was supposed to drive me."
"She isn't ready yet and we have to be there earlier. Don't you remember Mrs. Wilson telling us to be there at four?"
"No, I don't."
He rolled his eyes at me. "Well she did. And apparently Harlow and Mason don't have to be there until five anyway, so I'm your ride." He paused, eyeing my appearance suspiciously. "Are you ready?"
"Yeah. Well, no actually. I need you to help me zip my dress. I would've had my best friend do it if she didn't take so damn long to get ready," I stated. When he didn't object, I turned and moved my hair aside. Hey, I had no shame in getting a little help for zipping my dress since it was nearly impossible to do myself. Therefore, Gage carefully zipped my dress while I put on my bracelet and earrings.
"Let me just grab my purse and I'll be ready," I told him as I finished putting my earrings on. After grabbing my purse and checking my appearance in the mirror quickly, I was ready to go.
When we arrived at the school, I already saw students and teachers bustling around to get things in order. The party was taking place in our school's huge lobby, which was decorated elegantly with our school colors, dark blue and silver. The art gallery was down the hall in the gigantic gym. The band and chorus also set up in the gym, where they'd play music throughout the night for the guests to dance to.
"Where the hell is Mrs. Wilson," Gage wondered.
"Dakota! Gage!"
"Speak of the devil and he—she—shall appear," I commented, putting on a fake smile for our teacher. "You look very nice, Mrs. Wilson," I told her as she neared us, trying to get on her good side for once.
She raised an eyebrow. "As oppose to every other day I see you? Is that what you mean?"
I must've looked like a deer in headlights when Gage interjected, "Of course not. She just meant you look especially nice tonight, ma'am. Is there anything we can help you with right now?"
She looked at him suspiciously before nodding. "Yes, both of you get the remainder of the artwork on my desk and bring it to the gym."
We did as she asked, walking to her art room in silence until I spoke up. "Thanks for, uh, saving me back there. I guess I shouldn't even try to be nice to her," I said to Gage.
"I didn't do it for you. Mrs. Wilson needs to see us act civil toward each other. That's exactly what I just pretended to do."
I stopped walking and stared after him, shaking my head slightly. "Good to know. Otherwise I would've thought you were getting sick or something for actually doing a nice thing for me."
"And you'd care if I was sick?" he asked, amusement evident in his blue eyes now.
I rolled my eyes and shoved past him into the art room. "Of course not. I'd just care that I'd be stuck staying by the gallery myself." I paused or a moment, thinking. "Actually, that doesn't sound too bad. Maybe you should tell Mrs. Wilson you're not feeling well. Better yet, let me tell her I'm not feeling well so I can leave."
"You know Mrs. Wilson will know you're lying, so I'd just forget it," he said, picking up a few sculptures on her desk. "Get those," he told me, gesturing toward the paintings and drawings that were part of the gallery. I did as he so politely ordered and headed out of the classroom.
I curiously looked through the artwork I was holding, each in a black mat for the gallery. They were all great, though one in particular caught my eye. It was a painting of mountains during sunrise or sunset. The colorful sky made the snow-topped mountains stand out, along with the nature that was lining the bottom of the mountains. It was simple, yet done so perfectly that it looked like it was part of your own dream.
"Wow, this one is amazing," I commented out loud. "I wonder who did it." There was a scribble of an initial in the bottom right corner, but it seemed to be hidden as part of the painting almost. Whether it was intentional or not, I couldn't make out the initials. I guess Gage didn't know who created it either since he didn't say anything about it.
"Took you two long enough," Mrs. Wilson said bitterly. I took a deep breath in an effort to control my anger toward her.
Gage and I then had to put up the artwork on the wall, which was covered in a black cloth to make the artwork stand out. After moving a few sculptures around how she wanted them arranged, Mrs. Wilson gave us the order to stay at the gallery and answer questions that anyone might have.
A few hours passed and I was already bored. I briefly saw Harlow and Mason before they had to leave. They were both circulating the gym as servers, along with several other students. So there I was, all alone in my corner, answering people's questions as best as I could. I almost wished one of the servers could trip just to give me some entertainment.
"Go ask her," one young boy whispered to another. They weren't the quietest whisperers, so I could hear them pretty clearly.
"Yeah, unless you're going to chicken out of the dare," a second boy whispered.
"Fine," the third boy huffed. He coughed a couple times before stepping up to me. The three boys were young, looking to be about ten years old or so.
"Hello," I greeted politely.
The boy blushed instantly. "Uh, hi."
I smiled at him; he was so adorable! Seriously, he was about as cute as you could get at his age. I had no doubt he'd be popular with girls when he enters high school.
"Do you have a question about the artwork?" I asked him.
He shook his head, looking down.
"Do you have a question about the art classes?"
He shook his head again, still avoiding my gaze.
"Do you have a question at all?"
He nodded, pausing for a second. He took a deep breath before looking up at me. "Can I have your number?"
My mouth opened, though no sound came out right away. "Oh." I looked back at his two friends, who were waiting for him to return with my number, I presumed. They looked pretty smug for their age, I might add.
I bent my knees slightly to make myself closer to his height. "They didn't think you'd get my number, did they?" I asked, amused.
"Yeah," he admitted, looking at me like I'd just read his mind.
I laughed and grabbed a pen off the table next to me. I wrote down the phone number on his hand, causing him to grin. "Thanks!" he said before jogging over to his friends.
"Did you really give that kid your number?" Gage asked me, smirking.
I scoffed. "Of course not. I gave him yours."
The smirk disappeared off his face instantly. "No you didn't."
I smiled at him before facing the front of the room. "Yes I did." I really did give that kid Gage's number, hoping they'd call at some annoying time. It was weird because the other week I completely forgot I had Gage's number in my phone, but when I looked at it, the number came back to me like another memory. I used to dial his number all the time, considering he's had a cell phone for years.
"No, you didn't," he repeated, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself to feel better.
I shrugged. "Sure I didn't," I teased. He definitely hated me right now, though that thought just made me laugh slightly.
I answered a few more questions until my eye caught something across the room—or someone, rather. As I listened to the last half of a song by The Beatles, I saw David grinning at me from across the room. He waved at me, which I returned with a raised eyebrow. His child-like attitude always made me laugh, just like Mason's did.
"This is a wonderful piece," a middle-aged woman said, pointing to the painting that caught my eye earlier.
"I agree, it's one of my favorite ones here," I told her.
"And whose name shall I expect to see in the future as a famous artist?" she asked Gage and I, grinning.
I opened my mouth to tell her I didn't know who did it, until Gage spoke before me. "That would be my name, Gage Jenson," he answered.
My mouth remained open in shock for another moment as the woman complimented his work. Did he really create that beautiful painting? I mean, I got that he was talented from the sketched portrait he did of me a while ago, but this painting was so much more than just a sketch.
His eyes glanced between mine and the woman he was talking to. There seemed to be an underlying message in his eyes, except it was a message I didn't quite understand. I wanted to know why he just didn't tell me earlier that it was his painting. I wanted to compliment him without getting an arrogant reaction from him too, but we both knew that wasn't going to happen.
"Care to dance with me?" David suddenly asked.
"I, uh, probably shouldn't leave," I replied, still trying to wrap my head around the whole Gage-really-is-a-talented-artist thing.
"Oh come on, you can take a break for one dance," he said, taking my hand in his. I glanced over to Gage again. His eyes hardened, though he wasn't looking at me anymore.
"Alright, one song," I said. He led me to the dance floor before we started to slow dance to the current song playing.
We danced in silence for the beginning of the song until he said, "You look beautiful tonight. I'm sure you've heard that a hundred times already, but it's true."
I smiled up at him. "Actually you're the first one to tell me that tonight. And thank you, you don't look so bad yourself."
He grinned. "How's managing the gallery going?"
I shrugged. "It's going. I was really bored for a while. What's your job for the night?"
"I was handing out brochures at the entrance, so I'm done for the night," he answered.
"Well aren't you lucky! I have the misfortune of staying at the gallery for the entire time. I'm surprised Mrs. Wilson hasn't made an appearance—" I cut myself off with a gasp. "Oh crap, she's coming this way!" Of course I spoke too soon.
I turned and saw Harlow walking by with an empty tray in her hands. I quickly grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her into David, getting the tray out of her hands. "Thanks for the partial dance, David!" I told him before jogging back over to the gallery.
"Mrs. Wilson, great to see you!" I smiled, letting out a breath. Jogging in heels isn't as easy as it may seem.
She eyed me curiously before her gaze landed on the tray I was still holding. "Why do you have a tray in your hand, Dakota?"
"Oh, this? Well, you see..." she waited for my response, looking at me suspiciously, "one of the waiters suddenly wasn't feeling well, so I offered to bring back the tray," I finished, hoping she bought my lie. I definitely didn't want to spend time cleaning her classroom after school again.
"Very well. I'll be back by the time the party is over," she concluded before walking away.
I sighed in relief and leaned against the table. As I regained my composure, part of me thought I should confront Gage about the whole painting thing. However, another part of me decided to just ignore it for now and get through the rest of the night.
And that's exactly what I did; I survived the remainder of the party. After Harlow got her tray from me, it seemed like I was standing at the gallery for an eternity. When the party was finally over, I was glad to pack up the artwork because that meant I could go home soon.
"Need help?" someone asked me. I turned to see David motioning to the four sculptures I was carrying back to the art room.
"That'd be great," I said. He took two of them from my arms, relieving me from an enormous amount of weight. I guess I really was as weak as Gage said I was a few weeks ago.
We made small talk as we put the art back in the classroom and made our way back to the gym. When Mrs. Wilson said I could finally go home, I walked outside with David. He put his suit jacket over my shoulders without even asking me if I was cold, which I certainly was.
"Do you have a ride home?" he asked me.
"I don't know. I'm sure Gage doesn't want to drive me home, and I don't see Harlow or Mason anywhere..."
"I'll give you a ride, then."
"Isn't your house the other way?"
He shrugged. "Maybe."
"Are you sure you want to drive me home then? I can force Gage to drive me home," I offered.
He smiled at me as he opened the passenger door of his car, gesturing for me to get in. "If I get to spend more time with you, then I'm sure." I smiled back at him and got in his car.
He put on light music in the background, though most of the ride home was a comfortable silence. It was one of the few times I was comfortable not saying anything. Usually I'm constantly talking or listening to someone else talk, but this silence was nice.
David walked me to my door, looking like he was internally debating something. When he started leaning closer, making me think he was going to kiss me, he stopped himself and said goodnight instead. I told him goodnight as well, looking at his retreating back with a confused expression. I actually wanted him to kiss me.
I turned to go inside, until I remembered I still had his jacket on my shoulders. "David, wait!" I called, walking over to him. "You forgot this," I said, handing over his jacket.
"Right, thanks," he said. He paused, staring into my eyes as I stared into his for a long minute before he turned back toward his truck again.
"Wait," I called again. Oh, what the hell. I stepped closer when he faced me again and kissed him. I knew he wanted to kiss me, so I just went for it. I was right too; he definitely kissed me back. I broke the kiss, smiling. "You forgot that too," I said.
"Thanks for remembering, then," he said, smiling as well.
I laughed. "I should get inside," I told him, starting to walk toward my house. "I'll see you...whenever."
"How about tomorrow?" he called out.
I turned to face him again. "Tomorrow?"
"Yeah, around one?" he asked hopefully.
I nodded. "Okay, see you then."
As I closed my front door and set my bag down, I already felt excited about my date with David tomorrow.