The Cat That Went to Homecoming Page 9

  “Hi, Mom, how was your day?” I asked, picking Hershey up and snuggling my face into his fur.

  “Oh, pretty good,” she replied, “but I need to talk to you.” She said, and her serious tone made me nervous.

  She sat me down at the table and told me that my dad had called her. He wanted to see me. He said he had been trying to call my phone, but never got an answer. It was true, I was getting calls from an unknown number, but I never would answer them. I figured if I didn’t know the caller, it was probably someone I did not want to hear from. What if Darcel had gotten a hold of my number? I sure as heck wouldn’t want to take that call!

  “Mom, this is not the time! I’m going skating tonight with Cindy and Brandon and I need to get ready,” I said curtly.

  “Ellen, you are old enough to make your own decisions, I respect that, but remember he is your father. You don’t have to call him right now, but I expect you to return his call sometime this week.”

  “Fine, I’ll call him soon, but not tonight. Give me a little time,” I replied.

  “Good, thank you. Now, do tell, what is going on with you and Brandon?” she asked with a sly grin.

  I rolled my eyes, “There’s nothing going on other than friendship.” I said as I headed down the hallway to my bedroom to get ready, hoping my mom wouldn’t keep bugging me about it.

  I had a bit of a problem; all of my pants were too big! Okay, maybe that was more of a good thing than a problem, but I desperately needed to find something that fit. I dug through to the bottom of my pants drawer where all the pants that I had outgrown were stored. There were a few pairs of jeans that I hadn’t fit in for a couple of years. I tried a pair on. They were big in the waist, but fit pretty good in the butt and legs. I could wear a belt. I took the pants off, found a t-shirt and belt, and laid them out on the bed. I hopped in the shower to wash off the chlorine and stood at the vanity in the bathroom wrapped in a towel trying to figure out what to do with my hair. I never did much with it. It was dark brown, shoulder length, wavy, and pretty uncontrollable so I usually threw it in a ponytail. Come to think of it, I didn’t think Brandon had ever seen me with my hair down.

  “Mom, do you have any idea what I can do with my hair?” I asked. She always used hair products and was very meticulous with her hair. She peeked in and looked very excited.

  “Oh, this will be fun!” she said, “Go get dressed and meet me in the bathroom. How much time do we have?” she asked.

  “Not long, about forty-five minutes,” I said. She groaned.

  “All right, then, let’s get moving!” she said.

  Mom simply used mousse and the blow dryer to make my hair look amazing. It fell down to my shoulders in loose ringlets, and the best part was that I thought I could do this myself in the future. It only took a few minutes, some ‘scrunching’ as she called it, and abracadabra! I had hair like a movie star!

  She helped me apply some subtle makeup. My mom was like me in that we didn’t like too much makeup, just some simple eye shadow, eye liner, and mascara and that was it.

  I was finished and ready to go with fifteen minutes to spare. Mom didn’t like the shirt I was wearing. “You look too good to be wearing a plain old t-shirt!” she said.

  She brought out a few of her shirts for me to try on. My favorite shirt of hers was a pink tunic knotted between the breasts which made her look voluptuous when she wore it. I wanted to look like that! I tried it on, and I loved the way it looked. It was fitted at the waist and designed to make me look like I had an hourglass figure. Just an illusion, I knew, but I liked it. No one had ever seen THIS Ellen!

  “You and Brandon won’t be ‘just friends’ once he sees you tonight!” Mom declared, making me blush. Suddenly I wanted to rip the sexy shirt off and throw on my t-shirt.

  “Stop it, Mom!” I said as the doorbell rang.

  Oh, my God! I wasn’t ready for this. I started to sweat and feel nauseous. “Mom, can you please tell him that I’m sick?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Mom, please,” I pleaded. It was ineffective; she opened the door and let Brandon in.

  “Hi, Brandon, it’s nice to see you again,” I heard her say.

  “Hi, Mrs. Jones, it’s nice to see you, too.” Brandon’s reply was nervous yet polite.

  I sighed and walked through the kitchen to meet Brandon at the door. I saw his eyes widen, and I was immediately insecure. I must look like a tramp, I thought.

  I said goodnight to my mom, assured her I had enough money with me as she tried to offer me more, and walked to the car with Brandon. I was nervous and didn’t know why. I mean, it wasn’t like this was a date or anything like that! I was being stupid, I realized, but I couldn’t help it.

  “Wow,” Brandon said when we got to the car, “You look great!”

  “Thanks, so do you.” Boy, did that sound dumb! I couldn’t look at him, so I just stared straight ahead as we drove to Cindy’s. She came out of her front door and I was thankful she wore a dressier shirt, too. I didn’t feel so overdressed anymore, not that jeans and a tunic were dressy, by any means. It was just that I was used to wearing t-shirts and sweatshirts, and not displaying my figure so much.

  The skating rink was packed almost to capacity. While waiting in line to get in, I tried to talk Cindy and Brandon out of staying, but they were determined. I shifted about and looked around me. I saw a lot of familiar faces, some younger than me, some older. Quite a few of them were huddled together whispering to one another while they looked at me. Call me paranoid if you want, but I could feel them watching me. I should not have worn such a revealing shirt!

  Brandon seemed uneasy, as well, which was surprising to me. He joked around in his usual manner, but seemed to have his eyes on the people around us. I had never seen the insecure side of him. Brandon was always so spontaneous and funny, never guarded like he was there in line. Cindy was the only one of the three of us that seemed comfortable.

  It was impossible to get a booth all to ourselves, the crowd was too large. Cindy was the one who approached a group of younger teens and asked if we could share their table. We sat and laced up our skates, Brandon and I staying on alert and Cindy completely oblivious to our anxieties.

  “Hurry up, I love this song!” Cindy said impatiently, pacing back and forth in front of us. She waved at a group of girls and said, “I’ll be back,” and took off almost running in her skates. Before long, she was out circling the floor with the girls she knew from school; girls I knew by face, but had never spoken to.

  Brandon and I had finished lacing up our skates, but neither one of us made any attempt to get up and skate. We were both surveying the scene. I saw lots of people I knew from school, but most of them were freshmen or sophomores. The junior and senior kids usually found more daring activities to do on the wooded lot behind the roller rink. It was known as the “party spot” where alcohol and drugs where usually shared.

  Brandon made the first move. He stood up in front of me and offered his hands to help me up. I took them and stood, a bit shaky, and fumbled to get used to having wheels on my feet.

  “You’ve never skated before,” Brandon said.

  “Does it show?” I jokingly asked.

  “I’ve noticed that there are a lot of things you haven’t done yet, but we’re going to change that. Come on, I’ll coach you.” He led me to the roller rink, holding hands with me.

  I thought the carpeted floor was bad enough, but once I stood on the waxed wooden floor of the skating rink, I realized it was going to be even harder than I expected. I felt like a newborn giraffe trying out its legs for the first time! I nearly fell on my butt. Thankfully, Brandon was there to hold me up. He was laughing, but not in a way that embarrassed me. He spun around in front of me and held my hands while he skated backwards.

  “Show-off!” I scolded.

  “Hey, I’m trying to help you!” he replied. He took me around the rink slowly. If I wasn’t so concerned about falling, I might have felt stupid, but my
fear of falling outweighed my fear of looking silly. He showed me how to use the brake on the toe to push off for speed, but speed was not necessary to me! I wanted one of those walkers Janet used in the rehab facility. Brandon was a very patient teacher. We spent a good hour just rolling around the rink until I felt confident enough to let go of his hand. Cindy had passed us up numerous times, always grinning at us and patting me on the back.

  When I’d had enough, I told Brandon I wanted to take a break. “Why don’t you go off with Cindy for a while so you can have fun? I know you want to race around the rink and I’m just holding you back,” I told him.

  “You’re not holding me back because I’m doing exactly what I want to do,” he said.

  “Well, I want to get something to drink and sit down for a minute,” I said firmly.

  “Okay. I’ll find you if you take too long,” he said and winked at me. I felt my pulse quicken a little.

  I made my way to the snack bar and stood in line, looking the menu over and trying to decide what I wanted.

  “Ellen?” I heard a familiar voice speak my name and felt a hand on my shoulder. My heart sank to my feet and I broke out in a cold sweat. It was John Peck! Oh, God, how could I escape?

  I turned and faced him. He was directly behind me in line and alone. His skin was deeply tanned and he was wearing a white muscle shirt which showed off his arms. His blonde hair and ocean blue eyes stood out against his dark skin. He looked like a Greek god. It was not hard to see why every girl in the county had it bad for him!

  “Hi, John,” I said, proud of the aloofness in my tone.

  “I thought I recognized you earlier. Wow, you look great!” he said trying to engage me in conversation. I told myself to remain uninterested, so I didn’t reply.

  “Is that guy you’re with your boyfriend?” he curiously asked.

  “Brandon? No, we’re just friends,” I said, then turned to face the cashier in the concession stand. I pretended to ignore John and asked her for a soda, but he moved in front of me and said, “Make that two please.” He turned to look at me, “My treat.”

  This was probably the most awkward moment of my life! When we were handed our sodas, I thanked him, but didn’t know for the life of me what to do next! I decided to go to our table and sit, but was I supposed to invite him to sit with me? Lord knew I didn’t want to. I wanted him to just skate away and leave me alone. The voice inside of me told me to act indifferent and leave him standing there, so I did.

  I went over to our booth. Two of the girls that we were sharing the table with were sitting there eating nachos and they looked up at me as I approached. They stopped talking and stared, which made me a bit uncomfortable. After I sat down, I realized what they were staring at. John had followed me to the booth.

  “Can I join you?” he asked.

  “Um, I suppose,” I stuttered. Why was he doing this? Why couldn’t he just leave? I was not stupid, I was sure Darcel had some sort of plan. Make the fat girl think the hot guy is interested in her, and then do something big to embarrass her in front of the entire crowd! I looked around, searching for Darcel, surely she was there somewhere.

  “So, what have you been up to all summer?” John asked, sipping his soda and watching my face.

  “Not much,” I replied shortly. “John, don’t you have someone to hang out with?” I finally worked up the courage to ask.

  “You want me to leave?” he asked incredulously, as if no girl had ever dismissed him before. The two girls sitting at the table snickered.

  “Look, John, I appreciate the soda you bought for me, but don’t feel obligated to sit and talk with me,” I said.

  “I don’t feel OBLIGATED.” He enunciated the word. “I am talking to you because I think you’re cute, and I’ve never had an opportunity to get to know you.”

  I believed that the only reason he was interested in me was because the darn shirt I had on was too revealing and it created the illusion of a great figure. I’d bet if I had my hair in its standard ponytail and had my t-shirt on, this wouldn’t be happening!

  Now I was mad. This was the boy I’d had a crush on all of my life and he said I was cute, but I was the same person I was three months ago at the chalkboard when he asked me if all fat people were as dumb as me. He acted like I was a balloon and poked me with pencils to pop me! He purposefully whipped balls at me in gym class. His exterior appearance was pleasing to the eye, but inside, he was as ugly as an ogre!

  “Hey, are you hitting on my girl?” I heard Brandon say.

  “Hitting on your girl?” John asked in surprise, “I hate to break it to you buddy, but your girl told me you guys were just friends.”

  At that moment, the DJ announced it was “guy’s choice”, which apparently meant the guys had to ask a girl to skate to a slow song with them. Brandon took my hand, helped me stand, and told John, “That’s because she doesn’t know yet that she’s my girl, but thanks for helping me get it out there. Ellen, will you skate with me?”

  I was too stunned to speak, so I just nodded and skated off to the rink with Brandon. He wrapped an arm around my waist and led me across the floor. The lights were low and the disco ball in the center of the ceiling was sending sparkling lights across the walls. We didn’t speak to each other throughout the entire song. I just took in the moment, watching the lights dance across the floor and the walls, feeling Brandon’s warmth around my waist. When he spun me around to face him, I wrapped my arms around his neck as he skated backwards. He was looking into my eyes, but didn’t say a word. Then he put his arms around my waist again and pulled me a little closer to him. That was a mistake! It threw me off balance and before I knew it, we were laying in a heap on the floor!

  Couples tripped over us. Some remained standing, but some fell and the whole group of us ended up laughing.

  “Brandon, did I hurt you?” I asked between laughs, after all, I had fallen on top of him and I didn’t want to squash him.

  “No, you didn’t hurt me at all.” He managed to say, he had been laughing, too. “In fact, if you want to keep laying on me, I’m okay with that.” That comment made me push off of him.

  “What? You can’t blame a guy for trying!” he said as he stood and helped me up. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” He suddenly got serious.

  I nodded and let him take me to our booth. Thankfully, John was gone, as were the two nacho girls. I scooted in one side of the booth and expected Brandon to sit across from me, but instead he sat right next to me. We were silent for a few minutes, both of us looking at our hands or at the skating rink to avoid eye contact. I saw Cindy and the girls she had been hanging around with round the corner and she waved at us. I waved back and decided to break the silence.

  “I wonder why she isn’t hanging out with us,” I said to Brandon. “Is it because I’m not very good at skating?”

  “No,” he said, “it’s because she’s giving us some time alone.”

  I looked at him and he was looking straight into my eyes again, which was unnerving. I felt all sweaty and confused.

  He put an arm around my shoulder and leaned in towards my ear. “I want to kiss you,” he whispered. My eyes popped open wide. I was sixteen years old and I had never kissed a boy before! What if I did it wrong? Was there something special I was supposed to do?

  When I first visited Janet in the rehab facility, something took over control of me, which Jane called compassion. What took over me now was passion, plain and simple. My brain shut out all my questions and doubts and took control of my actions.

  Brandon’s face was so close to my ear that it only took a slight shift of my head to face him. I touched my lips to his and that was it. My mouth knew what to do, even though I didn’t! He had one hand in my hair on the back of my head and one on my waist. My arms had found their way around his neck and my body had shifted until I was sitting on his lap facing him. I didn’t realize the two of us could fit in the booth like that!

  I came up for air and had to tell myself thi
s wasn’t a dream. Now he had both hands across my lower back.

  “What are we doing, Brandon?” I half whispered.

  He leaned close so we were nose to nose and whispered, “We’re making out.” His mouth found my neck and I whispered, “Oh…”

  Someone pounded on the table and said, “Hey, look who we have here, boys?” Brandon and I both looked up to see a group of guys surrounding our booth. Brandon rolled his eyes and groaned.

  “Who’s your friend here, Brandon?” The leader of the group said, “Does she know she’s kissing a fag?” The rest of the group laughed and Brandon moved me back into the booth. He slid out and faced the leader.

  “Walk away, Jason,” Brandon said in a frighteningly angry tone that would make me run from him, but Jason didn’t even blink.

  “Walk away or what, queer boy? You wanna take this outside?” He laughed in Brandon’s face and I could see Brandon’s hands clenching into fists. “I have to say though, she’s really hot. Maybe she’d like to go at it with a real man, like me.”

  Brandon’s right hook came up like a flash and hit Jason square in the face. His head snapped to the side and blood spouted out.

  “No!” I screamed as I tried to climb out of the booth to grab him, but it was too late. Three of the other guys jumped in and all hell broke loose. I was shouting “Stop it!” and waving my arms around like an idiot. Cindy was suddenly at my side pulling me away from the brawl while security guards rushed in and tore the guys apart. They were dragged out of the building and the manager of the place tried to break up the group of gawkers milling around.

  “Move along folks, it’s over. There’s nothing to see here.”

  Cindy sat me back in the booth. “What the heck happened?” she asked.

  “I don’t know! Some jerk came over and started a fight with Brandon.” I didn’t tell her about the kissing part.

  “Was it Jason?” she asked.

  “Yes, Brandon called him Jason. Why did they pick a fight with him? I don’t understand this.” I was so confused. One minute I was having my first make-out session, and the next minute my make-out companion smashed someone in the face.