* * *
She absolutely hated it when we worked on our project. She couldn’t argue with him about it. She seemed to know that pulling him away from his school work or the crew would not go over well with him. It was a line she shouldn’t cross. That didn’t stop her from tagging along to some of our project work sessions. It was like being chaperoned. She eyed me suspiciously, but exuded sweetness when Patrick looked her way. Becca only came along twice. I think she got bored. I knew she couldn’t follow along with what we were doing, because she’d keep asking when we’d be done. Patrick apologized for Becca’s behavior. I told him not to worry about it, that it wasn’t his fault.
When she found out I was going to the dance with Kraig, her tone changed. Well, it changed a little. Suddenly, she kept singing Kraig’s praises, even though she never took the time to really know him. She went totally overboard and it was really annoying to both Kraig and I. Even Patrick couldn’t get her to stop. She claimed she was trying to play Cupid because she wanted me and Kraig to be happy. What a load of crap. She didn’t care about me or my happiness. She wanted me to get distracted enough with another guy, so I wouldn’t be friends with Patrick anymore. Even if I did like Kraig that way, Patrick was still my best friend and nothing or anyone would change that. And if something were to develop between me and Kraig, it wouldn’t be due to Becca, it was Lindsey’s idea for us to go to the dance together. But that was a big if.
We finalized all our plans for Saturday’s dance. I was designated photographer, mostly because I didn’t want to dance. Well, I couldn’t. I would not only likely hurt myself, but be a danger to those around me. I think the abject fear and seriousness of my voice saying I wouldn’t get out there on the dance floor convinced them that. I was really fine with taking pictures. I was glad to have something to do while they had fun and danced. It would be fun, I was looking forward to it.
Since Kraig had originally planned to go to the dance alone, I insisted that he keep with his plan to dance with the crew or anyone else he might want to. Whatever his plans were, before Lindsey and Patrick inserted me in, he should keep them and not worry about me.
There was one, not so small, problem. I hadn’t asked my parents if I could go. I had so successfully avoided any kind of meaningful conversation with them the last few weeks that the topic didn’t come up. Hell, they didn’t even know the verdict—they never asked about it. I wasn’t going to bring it up. Denial. It was something they were good at. Time was running out and I had to say something or I definitely wouldn’t be allowed to go.
So, at dinner Thursday night, I took a deep breath and every muscle in my body tightened. “The Winter Formal is Saturday.”
“Winter Formal?” My mom looked up from her plate.
“The school dance.” I was trying to gauge her willingness to let me go. “It’s Saturday night.”
“A dance.” She put her fork down.
My dad stared at me curiously. “Where is this dance going to be held?’
I was hoping they wouldn’t ask, but I knew they would. “The Grand Balboa Hotel.”
My mom’s face turned to stone. She was not pleased. “A hotel? Since when do high schools have dances at hotels?”
She just didn’t get how schools were here—part of the generational and cultural gap, I guess. “All the big dances are held at hotels. In their ballrooms. It’s way nicer than the gym. It makes it more special.”
My dad cleared his throat. His voice was even and stern. “I suppose you want to go to this dance.”
I couldn’t stand their eyes peering through me. It always made me feel like I was weak and small, like I was 5 years old or something. I looked down at my plate and pushed the food around. “Yes.”
“No. I don’t want you going to some hotel by yourself. That’s just asking for trouble.” My mom was vehement. They went back to eating their dinner.
“But I wouldn’t be going by myself.” I slowly looked at them.
“So, you have a boyfriend now?” My mom’s voice was loud and sharp. “Is it that boy…the one from your science class?”
“No.” I managed to interject.
“I thought you said he had a girlfriend. So, what? You’re going to this dance with somebody else’s boyfriend? You just go looking for trouble, don’t you?” She shook her head.
I couldn’t believe what she was accusing me of. She really didn’t know me at all. I was mad, but I knew yelling at them would get me nowhere. Now, more than ever, I had to try to control my voice or they’d accuse me of being disrespectful, on top of everything else. Disrespect was a cardinal sin to them.
“His name is Patrick and he’s my friend.” My voice was trembling and I was careful not to raise it. “No, I’m not going to the dance with him. I’m going with Kraig. He’s one of the guys in the group that I hang out with at school. We’re just friends.”
I sat there and watched them. I couldn’t quite tell if they were convinced. They exchanged glances. My dad stood up from the table, grabbed his plate and headed to the kitchen. “We need to meet this boy. Tomorrow.”
“Does this mean I can go?” I was hopeful but I didn’t want to let them know how much I wanted to go.
“If he drives and we meet him. I still don’t like that the dance is at a hotel.” My mom got up. “Finish clearing the table.” She ordered.
I did what I was told. I cleared the table then did the dishes. When I was done, I called Kraig. He was fine with stopping by tomorrow to meet my parents. I warned him of what to expect. Kraig was always easy-going, so he wasn’t too concerned about it. It put me at ease a little, but I was still plenty nervous for the two of us.