For AMKandTheGang who said: "long chappie."
By the time we drive back home late Saturday afternoon, Monday's assembly is all planned out. From heart shaped lollipops we plan to give out to a cute inspirational story about love, Dean and I are pretty proud of what we've come up with.
First, while sharing the best waffles I've ever had at the Cheer Up Factory, we wrote down all those things that made the previous Valentine's Week assembly's boring.
Then, we came up with ideas that we thought every one would enjoy and give the upcoming week a great start. It's mandatory for the couple in charge, as Ms Fitz likes to call us ( I prefer people in charge) to lead the whole assembly but we can get help from other students if we need it.
We already asked Max Fisher, Dean's friend, to do a poem and a quick text to Gina (from Dean's phone, of course) and we have 'entertainment' from the cheer squad. I'm feeling really good about it, in the end. Maybe this thing could be a success after all.
***
I wake Sunday to the sound of more yelling, fiercer and louder this time and neither Mr. Pinkette or my Dad care who's listening when they exchange insults. It actually scares me a little, listening to them argue.
I get what Nina was saying now, it was never funny, but these weekend arguments weren't something we had to worry about much. But these days, they're mentioning the police and things are getting really serious.
I don't want my dad arrested, an I also don't want Mr Pinkette arrested either. Especially over something so ridiculous, like the day they mowed the lawn. I'm not taking sides anymore. This has to stop. I put in some handy ear buds and head down to breakfast.
The evening is nice and quiet compared to this morning. I throw myself onto my bed and scroll through my phone. I have a message from Macey.
Save this picture for me, OK? I don't want to look at it anymore.
It's a picture of her and Gatwick, a candid photo I took with Macey's phone when they were too into each other to even realize. They're seated on one of the lunch tables on the lawn after school and she's laughing as he pulls her in for a kiss. Even my heart melts when I see it again, the necklace he gave her around her neck, the two of them, perfect together.
Aw. I hit send, even though I know she'll hate reading that message. Have you figured what you're doing yet?
Yup. Then Macey sends another message: I'm going to talk to him.
Great! I squeal a little because I really am happy for them, but I should have waited for her to finish typing.
After the dance.
I send OK. Good luck. And nothing more.
What's the point of saying it again? Macey knows too: they were better together. And I hope both of them remember that after they've seen their matches. Because if they develop feelings for someone else, it's all over.
My phone vibrates and I discover that it's not another message from Macey, but from my own match.
Dean.
I force myself to act normal and open the message.
Hey :)
So I have one.
Hey.
One what?
A pick up line.
I roll my eyes but I'm smiling because he remembered, and was still trying to find a pick up line that I liked. It's... cute. But I remind myself aloud that this is Dean Pinkette. Not cute. Not cute. Not cute.
I thought you gave up. I type, and take the risk of running to my glass door, pulling back the curtain a bit, and looking out towards the Pinkette house. The lights are on in Dean's room, and I can barely make out the silhouette of him lying on his bed. There he was, without the slightest clue that he was talking to the girl next door.
Poof.
Me.
If he knew, he wouldn't flirt like that, I was positive. I drop the curtain and look at my phone again.
I don't give up. Then, OK, Ready?
Ready.
I must be Samson and you must be Delilah because you make me weak.
It's cringe worthy, but I end up laughing when I try imaging Dean actually saying that to me in person. He sends another message before I have the chance to reply.
Alright, so it sounded better in my head.
I literally laugh out loud this time. Hard to believe it ever sounded good.
It's not that bad. :)
(You're mean.)
I laugh again. Now Dean sounded like a little boy. But then he sends something that wipes the smile right off my face.
Only a few more days until I finally get to see the one girl I know who hates pick up lines.
I'm about to say that I know lots of girls who aren't into pick up lines in the first place, but then I reread his message. My heart thuds and I feel my hands get clammy. I don't know how I let myself forget, even for a moment, that Dean would ultimately have to find out that I was his match all this time.
Yup. I type,nervously looking towards the Pinkette house again. Only a few more days.
***
Monday arrives way too fast.
Bright and early, Dean and I find ourselves in Ms Fitz's office in those black leather chairs that were starting to get too familiar. I swear that chair has my butt print pressed into the seat.
"I don't know why you made us waste our time planning if you're just going to change everything." Dean has his arms folded and he's frowning at Ms Fitz, who's leaning against her desk with her arms folded too. On his thigh rests a printed white paper from Ms Fitz, creases and crinkles already at the edges. I'm holding a paper similar to Dean's.
It says: THE HISTORY OF VALENTINE'S HIGH SCHOOL at the top and even the font just screams BORING!
When we got school, Ms Fitz read over everything we had planned. And then she was like a stuck record:"There'll be none of this." and "There'll be none of that." and "That's not going to happen." And then she gave us her own ideas that she had apparently typed over the weekend.
So Dean got pretty pissed.
Understandably.
"I want to know if this is going to happen again, Ms. Fitz. " He says, his voice far from polite "'Cause if it is then I--" He looks at me, "Then we quit."
I agree. Because if Dean quit I quit too. I wasn't about to do this all on my own. But looking at Ms Fitz, I actually feel sorry for her. Although her arms are crossed, she doesn't look angry too. Just...sad. And incredibly lonely.
I don't know why a lonely woman would like Valentine's Day so much, but she does, and the least we can do is try to make her a happy. Even for the day. Or the week.
"We're not quitting." I proclaim and Dean gives me a look like Oh, really? I shrug. "And at least we had waffles." I think of the warm and delicious waffles we had on Saturday when we were planning at the Cheer Up Factory. "So not all our time was wasted."
I don't know if he understands now, about Ms Fitz, but he relaxes and unfolds his arms. "Right." Dean agrees, "At least we had those waffles." He smacks his lips and grins at me and I look away, quick, like it was some kind of innuendo for something.
Get it together, Valerie!
Luckily, Ms Fitz speaks up then, so my face doesn't turn tomato red in the end. Her voice is soft but still firm. "You two better get ready." She says, and she won't look at us, "The assembly will start soon."
Backstage we can hear the buzz as the students file into the auditorium. In a few minutes it'll be silence, when we come on stage, and all eyes will be on us.
I'm rereading the speech Ms Fitz gave me when Dean suddenly snatches it from my hands. "Give it back!" I say trying to remember where the hell I stopped. The speech is as boring as the nutritional facts of oatmeal, in a foreign language.
This was why every year, the Valentine's Assembly sucked. It was Ms Fitz's fault, all along.
"Don't worry about it Blythe." Dean says, looking my paper over."I'll read your part too."
I'm honestly confused. Why would he voluntarily read both his speech and mine? "Why?" I say and I can't help but sound suspicious.
He smiles at that and shakes his head. "Can you trust me, for the next, like, hour?"
"Why?" I say again, and I can't say my tone has changed.
"Because we're not-" But he doesn't get the chance to finish because in walk the cheerleaders and the mascot in full costume, hearts drawn on their faces and red ribbons in their hair. Dean puts his finger to his lips, silencing their noisy chatter, then grins at them. Not like someone who said "I'll take care of it, Poof." when I told him to tell everyone that things weren't going to happen as planned.
He clearly didn't hear me.
"OK, everyone."Dean is saying, his voice hushed, "It's going to be top secret stuff now, but we're going to do everything just like we planned."
OK, so he did hear. He just ignored me.
Gina begins to distribute the heart shaped lollipops into the rest of the cheerleaders baskets and they all look super excited. Max Fisher is over confident and has great curly hair, so it's no wonder why he's Dean's good friend. He's resting his arm on top of the mascot's heart shaped head.
"So I still do my poem?" He asks Dean, waving a small piece of paper in the air. "And then I control the music."
"Yup." Dean says, "Poem, then music." They grin at each other.
"Music?" I wonder aloud.
Max looks at me like I'm clueless, and yes, at the moment, I am. "Yeah, for the dance?" Which was the first thing Ms Fitz said we couldn't do.
My disbelief has finally worn off. That's when I grab Dean's arm and pull him into the corner. He runs his hand through his hair and looks at me like he has no idea why I'm freaking out right now.
"Do you want to die?" I ask him in all seriousness, because Ms Fitz is honestly going to murder us, if we don't do as she instructed.
"Calm your curls." Dean says, pulling one of my curls and watching it bounce back into place. "Everything's going to be fine. And if Ms Fitz gets angry, then you can just say--"
"That I really didn't want to but you forced me and threatened my life and family?" I suggest, and Dean laughs and shakes his head at me.
"No. That the other students misunderstood our message and did as we had previously planned. And it honestly isn't their fault because it was all a major misunderstanding." He shrugs as if saying, It's simple.
I narrow my eyes at Dean but then I can't help but smile at him. "I hate to admit it, but you're kind of a genius." I say and bend my head in faux awe.
"I know Poof." Dean says, and puts his arm around me. "I know."
As electrifying as it feels with his arm around me, I walk with him, back to the rest of the group and wait for the assembly to start.
***
Since I no longer have a speech to read, my job is to distract Ms Fitz from our transition from the boring assembly to the interesting one. It's not something I can do on my own.
I find two late 9th graders in the hallway and immediately my mind goes: Jackpot!
"Hey." I say, like a stage whisper and run down the hallway to meet them, "Do me a favor?"
They already look skeptical and I haven't even told them the favor yet. "Why should we?" The shorter one asks and her eyes are all narrowed. "I mean, we're already late and we don't even know you."
She looks me up and down and I realize that this is going to be so much harder than I thought. As much as I hate it, I'm forced to use my secret weapon.
Dean Pinkette.
"You guys know Dean?" I ask and the shorter and clearly sassier one, rolls her eyes exaggeratedly.
"Are you kidding?" She says, "Who doesn't?"
This time, I roll my eyes. Was I the only one who didn't see the cape around Dean's neck? Why was he so popular? The only thing I saw was the capital D floating over his head.
"I heard he has special water imported from Europe just so he can wash his hair." The taller one gushes and I stop myself from rolling my eyes again.
That could actually be true.
"Well he wants your help." I say, getting back to the more important topic. Dean might already be done with the first speech. There was no time to waste.
"He knows us?" The taller one is all ears now.
"Of course!" I nod enthusiastically. "You're Tif...?" I take a wild guess and thank God when she affirms it.
"Tiffany, yeah. And she's Megan."
Of course.
I tell them what they need to do and they seem willing now that they know Dean is involved. I hope the plan works.
As I walk away from them and head toward the front part of the auditorium I hear them talking. "What if she's lying?" One, maybe Tiffany, says, "What of she doesn't really know Dean?"
There's a pause. Then, "I think that's his girlfriend."
And I don't bother to shout the truth down the hallway. Maybe this time, this one time, being Dean Pinkette's girlfriend could actually work for me.