Being Whitney (Book one of the Being Series): A Young Adult Novel Page 6

  “He’s just a friend,” Whitney said.

  “Uh, huh!” Mable said. “I gotta tell mom. I can’t believe you didn’t tell her!” And with that Mable was gone, leaving Whitney’s protest hanging on her lips.

  Whitney knew her mom would be equally excited, and she’d have to tell her sooner or later so she just waited, doodling on her incomplete history assignment.

  “You’re homecoming princess?!” Her mom said as she entered the room and smothered Whitney in a hug, before backing up to start with the questions.

  “What do you get to do? Did you get a tiara? Do you need a dress? Of course you need a dress. We will have to get you a dress! What else is involved? How could you not tell me this?” she said.

  Whitney fished a crumpled schedule out of her bag and handed it over. “There’s a parade and the game and a dance. I guess I need three dresses, but they don’t all have to be fancy. I could probably just wear my 8th grade graduation dress for Wednesday.”

  Her mom scoured the schedule with more intensity than Whitney had.

  “Okay, three dresses. This may call for a shopping trip to Portland,” her mom said. Mable shrieked again.

  “I’m sure they have dresses at the mall in Eugene mom. Plus it’s already Sunday night. We won’t have time to go to Portland,” Whitney said. This had been her plan all along. Hold out with the news long enough to make it impossible for her mom to make a huge deal about it.

  “Portland has WAY better shopping honey, I’m sure you guys could miss….” She paused and Whitney knew immediately what she’d seen. “Your dad is supposed to escort you onto the field at the game?”

  “Yeah. But I’m sure it’s fine if he doesn’t. I’ll just say he doesn’t live here. They can’t make me have a dad.”

  Whitney’s mom stared at her intently. She was a lady who always met society’s expectations and if all of the other girls were going to have a father on the field she would never let Whitney be the one girl without one. Her look said all of that, although Whitney was very aware of it already.

  “Okay,” she said. “That’s your choice. Although I sure wouldn’t want to go out in front of an entire football game being the one girl without a dad.”

  Whitney knew she’d have to call, she just planned to hold out as long as possible making it more likely for him to be too busy to make the trip.

  “We’ll go shopping Tuesday afternoon. Make sure you girls get your assignments for your afternoon classes on Monday so you don’t miss anything,” her mom said as she left the room.

  “You have to call him. He’ll want to be here Whit. He will. He misses you,” Mable said.

  “It’s my decision Mable,” Whitney said. She stood up and snatched the schedule out of Mable’s hand.

  “Whatever…”

  “And you are NOT going to tell him,” Whitney said. She grabbed her retreating sister by the arm, with more force than she meant to.

  “Ouch! You’re not the boss of me. I can tell MY dad whatever I want.” Mable ripped away and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

  Whitney plopped back into her oversized chair and turned her music up even louder than before. She hadn’t wanted this. She’d voted for Brynley!

  ◆◆◆

  Monday kicked off homecoming week, bringing unbridled excitement to everyone at school, except Whitney. It was pajama day, and even the sight of everyone else in their pjs didn’t make Whitney feel any better about parading through the halls in clothes she never imagined leaving the house in.

  Whitney headed to first period hoping maybe Brynley had lost some of her anger, but disappointment met her and remained through the week.

  “She just needs some time to get over it,” Everley said as they sat in drama the next period. “Brynley’s like this. I’ve known her since first grade. She takes things personally and deals with stuff in her own time. She needs to feel on top and in control. She doesn’t like surprises.”

  Whitney thought about it in silence, pretending to read over her script. Whitney was a fixer, a motherer. She liked people to be happy and liked people to get along. So while giving her time made sense, it provided Whitney no relief.

  The tension at school, mixed with the ridiculous outfits she had to wear, left Whitney actually excited for her Tuesday shopping trip. Her mom swept her away at lunch, they hit three different malls, found all three dresses and by the time they sat down for dinner at Cheesecake Factory, Whitney felt almost excited about being princess. Maybe this wasn’t the end of the world. Brynley had three more years, and she’d get over it. This was Whitney’s year and she was going to enjoy it.

  This gleeful revelation, mixed with the sugar coma from the cheesecake, and having just spent quite a bit of her father’s money on three new dresses, left Whitney vulnerable on the drive home, which Mable took advantage of.

  “You should call dad.”

  “I know,” Whitney said.

  “Really?” Both her mom and Mable asked.

  “Yeah. It’d be cool if he came. I miss him,” she said.

  Afraid Whitney would change her mind, Mable dialed the number and let the phone ring on speaker.

  “Not now! Mable hang up. I will call him myself,” Whitney said.

  “Hi Chipmunk. What’s up?”

  Too late.

  “Hey dad! I’m calling because Whitney wanted to talk to you.” Mable beamed from the backseat of the SUV.

  “Oh. Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine. She just wanted to say hi and ask you something. Here, I’ll give her the phone. Hold on.”

  Mable passed the phone back to Whitney who promptly took it off speaker phone and put it against her ear, shooting Mable a glare.

  “Hi Dad.”

  “Hey honey! How are you?” Her dad said.

  “I’m good. I miss you.” She hadn’t meant to say it, it just came out. She did. She missed him a lot and now talking to him she missed him even more.

  “I miss you too baby.”

  “So dad, somehow I was voted freshman homecoming princess,” she began.

  “What? Like pretty dresses and crowns princess?”

  “Yup,” Whitney said.

  “You aren’t going all girly girl on me are you? Have you traded your basketball shoes for heels?” he asked. Whitney knew he was only half kidding.

  “No. I have not. I didn’t want it, but they voted and I won and I have to do all this stupid stuff now.” While her dad’s opinion of the situation mirrored hers completely for some reason hearing him mad about it didn’t help.

  “Okay, well at least you plan to win right?”

  “The seniors always win. It’s kind of rigged.”

  Whitney wrapped and re-wrapped her hair around her finger. She strongly regretted agreeing to this call.

  “And you’re going to accept that?”

  “No dad. I’m obviously trying to win, it’s just that freshman never do so it’ll be extremely hard.”

  “Do we give up when things get hard in this family?” he asked.

  “No, dad. We do not.”

  Whitney’s mom glanced back at her from the front seat with a worried expression. Leaving Whitney’s dad was against everything Whitney’s mom was about. It caused a lot of people she considered ‘important people’ to whisper about her at every social event in town, yet, she’d left for the girls, or so she’d told all those people when they called with condolences. Now, hearing Whitney’s conversation with her dad re-lit the flame inside of her that forced her to leave in the first place.

  “Anyways dad, I called because the crowning is on Friday at halftime of the football game and I have an escort from my class, but I guess the princess’s father also usually escorts her out onto the field for crowning. So I was wondering if you could come up here on Friday night.” She said. She hoped he’d say no. She knew he was busy. He was always very busy. The Vice President of Marketing for Google didn’t have an empty schedule.

  There was a moment
of silence while he checked the calendar on his phone. She waited patiently, Mable not so much. She was twisted in her seat begging Whitney for a signal as to what his answer was.

  “What time would it be on Friday?” he asked.

  “The game is at 7 and crowning is at half time, so maybe 8.”

  “Eight, eight. Yeah I can do that. I’ll have Kate push up my 3 o’clock and book me a ticket out there. I do have a fundraising engagement I’ve committed to on Saturday night so I’ll only be able to come for about 24 hours though.” He said.

  “Oh that’s fine,” Whitney said.

  “Will you be able to do breakfast on Saturday morning? You and little Maybelline?” he asked.

  “Yeah, no problem.” Whitney didn’t even ask Mable, she knew what her answer would be. Mable was dying to see their dad. “I’ll see you Friday dad,” Whitney said. She quickly returned the phone to Mable, who babbled on and on with excitement Whitney couldn’t fathum.

  Whitney gazed out the window at the passing fields, blanketed in darkness and separated only by the occasional house or freeway exit. The towns were sparse in Oregon and Whitney was growing to like it. It seemed easier to breathe this way.

  ◆◆◆

  Wednesday morning Whitney had woken excited for the evening’s activities, but sitting in the media center at six pm with the other members of the homecoming court, Whitney felt all eyes on her. She smoothed her hair, adjusted her crown, licked her lips, pulled up her dress, straightened the poufy toule skirt, and brushed off her face but the sideways glances continued. In Portland the dress had seemed perfect. The bodice was bright pink and overlaid in a simple lace while the skirt was a soft grey tulle puffing out just the right amount. Now though, it looked like way too much compared to all the other princesses rather plain looking dresses and she dreaded facing the rest of the school in it.

  She looped her arm through Jesse’s, greateful for the comfort he brought. “Why is everyone looking at me?” she asked.

  “Because they’re pissed you’re way prettier than them,” He said.

  “Shut-up!” Whitney said.

  “I’m serious.”

  And his face told her, more than this words, that he was. She smiled at him remembering how good of a guy he was, and how cute. She always overlooked his adorable smile.

  There were pictures, followed by pictures, followed by pictures. Just the girls, just the boys, the whole group, by class in front of the tree, by class in front of the float, by class with your class. By the time the final picture was taken in the car it was nearly time to go. Whitney pulled her phone out of her wristlet and held it up.

  “One more?” she asked Jesse.

  “Only for you,” He said.

  She snapped the selfie and put her phone away.

  After the parade Whitney and Brynley quickly changed into their tank tops to match Everley and Ivy and on their way to the football field Brynley actually complimented Whitney on her dress.

  “Thanks,” said Whitney, thankful most for the interaction.

  They climbed into the far side of the bleachers, beside the rest of the freshman, and watched the first game: tug-a-war. Mostly boys played for obvious reason, making it an even better show for the girls. The freshman faced the juniors first. Whitney’s eyes followed Jesse, James and Will as they raced down to their side of the rope, but quickly found even better eye-candy. Leif, Ian, Chris, Phil and their friend Jason sporting very tight black spandex paired with orange gymnastic leotards. They looked absolutely ridiculous and ridiculously attractive at the same time. In the short minute it took for the juniors to destroy the freshman Whitney stared only at Leif in all his beauty, which remained even after the freshman gave up, let go and the juniors ended up in a muddy pile of muscles and spandex.

  Whitney’s trance was only broken when Ivy grabbed her arm and tugged her down the rickety wooden stairs of the bleachers to the track below for the girls-only Volkswagen bug push. Mr. Lewelska’s 1972 bug sat at one side of the bleachers, waiting to be pushed the 100 yards to the other end. Before she knew what was happening Whitney was scrunched between nine of her classmates at the back of the bug and Phil was yelling GO. Everley lost her footing half way to the finish line and slipped. She grabbed for support and caught Ivy’s arm. Ivy looped her arm through Brynley’s and Brynley caught Whitney’s leg on her way down. They ended up in a pile on the ground in front of the bleachers laughing hysterically. They earned a horrible time for the bug push and ended up in fourth place, but they didn’t care.

  The final game of the night was the slip-n-slide, which was technically a game only because they gave each class a point for every complete slide, but was more for fun than anything. Jasmine and Phil covered two large black tarps with soap and the firefighters sprayed them with their huge hoses. Then Mr. Gilles gave the go and in the 50 degree weather kid after kid flew across the tarps like it was the dead of summer. Whitney’s first run was a disaster. She landed hard on her arm and barley slid half way down the tarp. Jesse came flying in behind her and pulled her down a few more feet with him.

  Jesse reached out his arm. “That was a disgraceful slide.”

  “I know! I hurt my arm too. I don’t get how you’re supposed to do it.”

  Jesse shook his head at her as he tried to explain the best technique. He went first on their second time through and Whitney did her best to imitate him allowing her to make it ¾ of the way down the slide on her second run.

  “Much better,” Jesse said.

  Whitney stood up and tried to ring out a little of the water dripping from her.

  “Whit! You almost made it that time,” Ivy said.

  “Yeah, I’m not sure it’s my thing. I think I bruised my rib.” Whitney placed her hand on her side grimacing.

  “Me too!” Everley said, “and my hip.”

  Everyone laughed at Everley’s multiple injuries and for the first time in weeks Whitney felt like they were real friends.

  The night ended with the traditional lighting of the Millersburg M. The lights turned off in a flash and everyone gathered together for warmth in the pitch black crisp evening air. Whitney stood with her arms crossed in front of her chest, shivering from the cold when Jesse wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She smiled at him and gave into the gesture. In the moment it felt right. He’d been there for her throughout the whole taxing evening. He was always there for her. She wanted to say she gave in for warmth, which did play a factor, but there was more. Jesse was nice and funny and cute and supportive. He was her best friend and his arm around her shoulder and his head leaned against hers felt nice. They stayed there while the tissue paper stapled to the wooden M burned brightly at first, in colors assaulting the night sky, and then slowly tapered out releasing ashes that flew away in the night air. Leaning against Jesse she noticed the feeling of contentment washing over her, something she hadn’t felt a lot of before. The foreign feeling shocked her, she felt nothing like the Whitney she’d always been, but then she hadn’t felt like that girl in months.

  ◆◆◆

  After a hot shower Whitney climbed into bed to find a message from Ivy. Attached was a picture. Whitney stared at it for a second before processing what it was. Always the artistic one, Ivy had captured a picture from behind of Jesse and Whitney watching the M burn. His arm draped around her and her head cradled on his shoulder. The M glowing in the distance in front of them.

  He loves you. Read the message following the picture.

  We’re just friends, Whitney typed.

  He loves you. Everyone can see it.

  He knows we are just friends.

  Okay, read the last message from Ivy. Whitney hated how much Ivy always left unsaid.

  Immediately after it, as if on cue, came one from Jesse.

  Was just looking at pictures. You looked really pretty tonight.

  Thanks. And thanks for being there through this with me. I’d be lost without you.

  Whitney hit send and waited. Eventually she fell aslee
p. In the morning she saw Jesse’s response.

  No problem.

  She wondered how he’d taken it. She didn’t want Jesse as a boyfriend. She wanted him as a friend. She needed him as a friend. Messing their friendship up was not in the plans.

  ◆◆◆

  With her favorite sarong tied effortlessly around her waist and a whopping pink fabric flower in her hair Whitney entered first period ahead of all her friends and pulled out the worksheet she’d failed to finish the night before.

  “Hey,” Whitney said as Brynley and James sauntered in.

  “Hi,” said Brynley.

  “My shirt is completely ruined after last night” Whitney said, trying to ignore the tension between them.

  “Good thing it’s only meant to be worn once,” Brynley said.

  Whitney decided to leave it. She was too tired. Apparently last night had been an anomaly and Brynley wasn’t over the whole princess mess. Whitney probably would have dwelled more had Jesse not shown with his own distant air. Whitney tried to talk to him about his hideous Hawaiian shirt (which he apparently liked), the homework none of them did and even the upcoming football game, all with little luck. Apparently everyone was tired this morning.

  After a lunch spent listening to everyone else talk, while the pretended she wasn’t there Whitney was excited for math class.

  “Are you okay?” Everley asked as they walked to fourth period. “You seemed quiet at lunch.”

  “I’m fine,” Whitney said. “It’s everyone else who isn’t.”

  “What do you mean?” Everley’s lack of social awareness was amazing sometimes.

  “Last night everyone seemed fine but today Brynley is back to hating me, Ivy is back to being mad for whatever she’s mad about and Jesse is upset because I just want to be friends,” Whitney said. She sat down at her desk glad the boys weren’t there yet.

  “Brynley seemed fine last night, I’m sure she’s just tired. Ivy told me that last night on their way home Jasmine and Eva were talking about outfits and Leif said he thought your dress was pretty and Eva exploded, making Jasmine explode so that relit that fire and Jesse just loves you. Are you sure you don’t want to date him?” Everley finished just as the boys took their seats.