That's Not What I Heard, page 12
“Can I help you?”
Kim was now standing right in front of him. Corey straightened up a little. The cool thing about Kim was that she didn’t know she was cool. Like, Corey was pretty sure she’d had that L.L.Bean backpack since seventh grade. It was like how really, truly hot girls didn’t know they were hot. Or didn’t act like they were hot. Like, yeah, Sophie Maeby was hot, but how much of that was makeup, you know? Kim didn’t even look like she wore makeup, and she was bonkers hot.
It was like Kim was Belle, and every other girl in their grade was one of those blond girls always following Gaston around. Corey had watched Beauty and the Beast with his niece over the weekend. Man, did Gaston get a raw deal. That Beast was a total, well … beast, and Gaston is somehow the villain? Not cool.
Corey had been thinking about asking Kim out even before those two idiots had attacked him out of nowhere, because, as he’d said, she was bonkers hot. But now, he was more determined than ever. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Lin’s face when he walked into the prom with Kim on his arm.
He hoped it stung as badly as a baseball glove smacked against an unprotected calf muscle.
“Hey, Kimmy.” Corey smiled slowly, in a way that he knew, from personal experience, was totally devastating.
“Hi.”
Hmm. She didn’t appear to be melting at the sight of his devastating smile. Not ideal, but he could keep going.
“So I’ve got a very exciting update from yesterday’s Prom Committee meeting.” Corey leaned against Kim’s locker with his arm up, the better to show off his biceps in his tight, bright red shirt, and really let that Dark Temptation waft its way down the hall.
Kim sneezed. Twice. Corey folded his arms across his chest. Maybe it was too much Dark Temptation?
“Oh. Um, okay,” Kim said. “Well, I’m probably not going to prom, so …”
“I think you’ll want to go to prom,” Corey said, “when you hear what the theme is.”
Corey paused for dramatic effect. He searched Kim’s face for anticipation, but couldn’t find any. Hmm. She was a tricky one.
“The theme is Fifties Sock Hop,” he said. “Because I heard that somebody’s favorite movie was Grease.”
“I heard the theme was Bears.” Jess Howard was now standing next to Kim. Corey frowned at her. None of this was going how he’d imagined it!
“The theme is also Bears. Kind of. But not really. Don’t worry about the bears,” Corey said soothingly. “Uh, Jess, can you give us a minute?”
“No,” she said brusquely. “Homeroom bell’s gonna ring any second. Thanks for the exciting update from Prom Committee. How ’bout you move so Kim can get into her locker?”
Corey slid over to the next locker as Kim opened hers and started pulling books out.
“Listen, Kimmy.” Corey wouldn’t let Jess stop him. He’d just pretend she wasn’t there! “I wanted to talk to you about the prom because I want …” Here, he paused for dramatic effect. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Kim’s face! “… you to come with me.”
There. He’d said it. How lucky was Kim?! Corey hadn’t planned on taking himself off the prom date market this early. He was going to wait for offers to come rolling in.
“Oh.” Kim wasn’t even looking at him! She was still getting books out of her locker? What was wrong with her?! Had she not noticed the red shirt he’d worn specifically because it was her favorite color? Could she not see the red ribbon he’d tied around his wrist in support of her? Should he pull the waistband of his boxers up above his jeans so she could see that they were red, too? Red and covered in hearts? He’d picked them out especially for today! “Thanks, Corey. That’s really nice of you. But like I said, I’m not going, so … no.”
“NO?!” Corey hadn’t realized he had actually said “NO?!” out loud. He’d thought it had just been inside his head. But from the way everyone in the senior hall was looking at them, he’d definitely said it out loud.
“She said she doesn’t want to go to the prom, genius.” One of the weird art dudes was now standing on the other side of Kim. His jeans were covered in various dried paint splotches and his hands were dirty with what Corey seriously hoped was clay. If this clown thought he was going after Kim, he had another think coming. Kim would never go out with someone wearing a hideous red sweater with an ugly Santa stitched onto it. Who wore an ugly Christmas sweater when it wasn’t Christmas? “Prom’s a meaningless construct, right, Kim?”
“I don’t have a problem with prom, Toby,” Kim said. “I’m just …”
“Not going,” Jess finished for her. “Don’t you guys have your own lockers to be at?”
“Don’t you?” Corey shot back.
“Forget prom, Kim,” the guy who was apparently named Toby said. “Let me buy you a pizza.”
“I’ll buy you two pizzas!” Corey blurted out. What was happening to him? Why was he so off his game?
“Guys, she doesn’t even like pizza.” Marcus Dickson, from the track and field team, was now holding up two enormous bags of candy, nearly obscuring the Bulls logo on his red jersey. “M&M, Kimberly?” he offered, shaking the bags at her.
The bell rang—five minutes to get to homeroom.
“Thanks, everyone.” Kim shut her locker and clicked the lock into place, looking flustered. “But I’ve gotta—I’ve gotta get to class.”
“Think about my offer!” Corey shouted after her.
“And mine!” Toby echoed.
“And mine!” Marcus shook his M&M’s some more.
“You guys suck,” Corey muttered as Kim disappeared down the hall. “And your red shirts are lame. Especially you, Santa.”
“You all suck.” Jess rolled her eyes. “Three words for y’all—never gonna happen.”
She was wrong, Corey thought as he watched Jess follow Kim down the hall. It would happen. Corey wanted Kim even more than he’d wanted her before. And Corey always got what he wanted.
“M&M?” Marcus offered.
“Sure, I’ll take some,” the weird art guy said.
Corey shook his head. No M&M’s for him. He had to stay lean.
He had a girl to win.
There was something about Kim Landis-Lilley.
Toby didn’t know how he’d never noticed it before. Maybe because he hadn’t talked to her, really talked to her, since they’d been in ceramics together freshman year. Their potter’s wheels had been next to each other, and Kim had chatted to him genially while she’d thrown terrible pot after terrible pot. He still remembered the half-collapsed teapot Kim had pulled out of the kiln as her final project, remembered how hard they’d laughed when she’d tried to distract Mr. Buckley from its misshapenness by covering the whole thing in enormous purple flowers.
They hadn’t had a class together since. But because she was Kim, she always smiled and waved at him in the halls when they passed each other. And Toby had never thought he was romantically interested in her or anything like that, but when he’d heard that Kim and Teddy had broken up, he felt something within him stir. It was the same impulse he felt when got inspired by a new project. The need to create something where nothing had been before. Toby had dashed to the art room after school, covering canvas after canvas in abstract works inspired by red sweaters and doe-brown eyes ringed with molten gold. Kim Landis-Lilley was his muse.
Which was exactly why he needed to create for her! Toby staggered back against the lockers. What was he thinking, asking Kim out for pizza?! Kim didn’t need pizza! She needed art.
It was all coming to him now. Ideas flew faster and faster. Toby tore his sketchbook out of his backpack and drew feverishly, not wanting to forget a thing. It would take him some time to gather his supplies, to block out his piece, to pull all of this together … but Toby knew it would be worth it.
Kim Landis-Lilley was his goddess. And that was exactly how he was going to immortalize her.
“Mr. Neale,” Principal Manteghi said as she rounded the corner. “I believe you have approximately forty-five seconds to make it to homeroom without getting a demerit for tardiness. I just gave your classmate Mr. Rothbart one for loitering. Perhaps you’d like one as well?”
Toby sighed as he clutched his notebook to his chest.
None of these philistines appreciated the artistic process.
“Mr. Guzman,” Principal Manteghi said as she walked into her office. Chris Guzman was already waiting in there for her. He rose to shake her hand. “Is now still a good time to check in?” she asked as she sat.
“Absolutely.” Mr. Guzman smiled brilliantly, like the entire school wasn’t in danger of imminent collapse. Principal Manteghi had spent the last twenty minutes listening to the volleyball coach complain that the season was ruined, because no one on Team Kim would spike a ball set by a Teddy Bear, and vice versa.
Focus. She could deal with the volleyball team later. Right now, she had to check in with Mr. Guzman.
“Great.” Principal Manteghi tried to force herself to mirror Mr. Guzman’s brilliant smile. It felt more like a grimace. “Just wanted to see how your first couple days have been, make sure Prom Committee got off to a good start …”
“Totally. We even nailed down the theme, like you asked.”
“Great.” Principal Manteghi sighed with relief. At least that was one thing she could check off her list. “Did they end up going with Under the Sea?”
“Uh … not exactly.” Mr. Guzman shifted in his seat. Uh-oh. Not a good sign. In Principal Manteghi’s experience, people either shifted in the seat across from her because they were about to tell her something they didn’t want to, or because they had hemorrhoids. Principal Manteghi didn’t want to wish hemorrhoids on Mr. Guzman, but that was exactly what she found herself doing. “They decided to take a really creative approach.”
“Meaning … ?”
“There’s actually going to be two prom themes.”
Principal Manteghi stared at Mr. Guzman. He blinked nervously back at her.
“Two,” she repeated.
“Yup.” He nodded. “Two.”
“We don’t have the budget for two proms.” Principal Manteghi was trying not to panic. “We barely have the budget for one.”
“No, no, no!” Mr. Guzman rushed to assure her. “It’s still just the one prom. Same venue, same budget, same everything. Just … two themes.”
She raised her eyebrows at him.
“They’re going to put a line down the middle and split the gym in half,” he explained weakly.
Principal Manteghi could barely keep herself from dropping her head into her hands and emitting a primal scream.
“Does this have anything to do with Kim and Teddy?” she asked wearily.
“Uh, I don’t think so?” Mr. Guzman screwed up his nose in confusion. “Are those the seniors that broke up?”
Principal Manteghi would have bet her entire teacher’s pension that the two prom themes had everything to do with Kim and Teddy.
“Listen, it was the only thing everyone on Prom Committee could agree on,” Mr. Guzman said. “Isn’t it better that they have the prom they want? And I promise we’ll stay within budget.”
Maybe she should demand that they choose one theme. At the moment, she honestly felt like canceling prom altogether. But what kind of monster would that make her?
“At least there’s a theme,” Principal Manteghi said eventually. “Er—themes.”
“Yeah.” Mr. Guzman smiled again, like having two proms at the same time was absolutely normal and not a sign that her beloved school was collapsing in on itself like a dying star. “Anything else you need from me?”
“Just a reminder to update your school calendar. They’re repaving the parking lot the first weekend in May and you’ll need to remove your car promptly. There was a reminder email.”
“Cool.” Mr. Guzman grinned. “Thanks!”
Principal Manteghi missed the days when she still felt like everything was cool. Two prom themes?! She’d be the laughingstock of the district.
She grabbed a fistful of Hershey’s Kisses out of the glass jar on her desk, resigned herself to the fact that she’d be here way too late for a Friday afternoon, and got to work.
The entire freshman class was wearing red.
Last week, there had been red here and there, a shirt or a pair of socks or whatever, but today, the random bits of red had exploded into full-on ocular assault.
“Did we miss an email or something?” Daisy asked as an army of red-clad freshmen streamed around them, hurrying down to lunch. The hallway before school had been red, and her morning classes had been red, but this felt like the first time she was really feeling the impact of all the red. So much red. Olivia had been too tired to process what was happening first thing on a Monday morning. Uncharacteristically, she’d slept in really late over the weekend, which had totally thrown off her schedule. But she hadn’t expected the constant barrage of texts and Facebook messages and Instagram notifications pinging into her phone all hours of the day and night, desperately asking how her sister was doing, asking if it was true that Kim had been invited into a secret society of dumped celebrities that Jennifer Aniston ran out of a villa on the north shore of Kauai, and could Kim introduce them to Selena Gomez. At first, Olivia had taken great pleasure in shutting down each and every one of these idiotic messages, but around 3:00 a.m. on Sunday, she’d gotten so annoyed she’d hidden her phone in the freezer. Mama Dawn had found it this morning when she’d gone in for a toaster waffle, but luckily hadn’t asked any questions, only handed the phone back to Olivia with a raised eyebrow. If Mama K had found it, Olivia would have been in for a long discussion about responsible electronics care, and probably a lot of probing questions about whether or not she was being bullied on social media.
Which she wasn’t. If anything, she was a victim of too much support, drowning in the tidal wave of emotion everyone inexplicably felt for Kim.
Olivia’s eyes blurred as the red T-shirts and hoodies and pants swam in front of her, an endless sea of nature’s most jarring color. She rubbed her face with her Mighty Flying Arrows softball sweatshirt, trying to clear her fuzzy head.
“Seriously,” Daisy said. “Is there, like, a freshman listserv that we’re not a part of?”
“There’s a lot we’re not a part of. And that is fine.”
Not that she’d know if there was a listserv. Her olivia.landislilley@WHHHS.edu email had crashed due to the sheer volume in her inbox and she couldn’t log on anymore. Olivia pulled out her lunch bag and slammed her locker shut, finding brief satisfaction in the noise. She couldn’t believe all these people were wearing red because of Kim. How had the Kim worship spread so far and so quickly?
Maybe Olivia should skip lunch and see if Coach Mendoza would let her beat the crap out of the punching bag in the weight room. That would probably feel even better than slamming a locker.
Gabe Koontz walked past Olivia, dressed like a bottle of ketchup.
“Was that …” Daisy trailed off, mouth open as her eyes followed the ketchup-Koontz down the stairs.
“Yup. Your eyes did not deceive you. That was Gabe Koontz, dressed as a condiment, all in support of my sister, the Red Queen of William Henry Harrison High.”
What was wrong with everyone? None of these people even knew who Kim was, not really! Because if they’d known her, they’d have known her favorite color was purple. And Olivia couldn’t fathom why they cared. Kim was a senior. Olivia was pretty confident that with the exception of Daisy, none of these freshmen had ever even talked to Kim. Why was one stupid breakup taking over everyone’s lives? Was there really nothing more interesting going on at William Henry Harrison High?
“Olivia.” Diamond Allen materialized in front of them, dressed in an improbably glamorous red jumpsuit with a delicate halter neck. “How is Kim?” she asked, all sympathy and solicitousness.
“She’s fine,” Olivia grunted as she power walked toward the stairs, hoping to escape to lunch.
“Fine? Really? That’s not what I heard.” Diamond didn’t take the hint and followed closely behind Olivia and Daisy, her platform sandals making little clomping sounds as she walked. “I mean, yes, of course, Kim is so brave, but the fact that she’s debuting a one-woman show this weekend called Linsane in the Membrane makes me think she’s struggling more than we see.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sorry, I should have said the full title,” Diamond apologized. “It’s called Linsane in the Membrane: My Journey from Heartbreak to Healing.”
Daisy guffawed. Olivia was too perplexed to even laugh at the absurdity of it all. There was no way Kim had written a one-woman show. Or that Kim would ever perform a one-woman show. Kim hadn’t even done karaoke with Mama Dawn on their Carnival cruise, no matter how much Mama Dawn had begged. Even Olivia had caved eventually, but Kim had chosen to cheer from the safety of her seat with a virgin piña colada.
“Mr. Rizzo’s letting her use the black box to perform,” Diamond continued. “But this weekend is really only the beginning. They’re actually filming Kim’s show for a Netflix special.”
“No one wants to see Kim on Netflix!” Olivia bellowed.
All of the freshmen massing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting to get into the lunchroom, turned to stare at Olivia.
“Wow, Olivia.” Chloe Baker turned around to whisper at Olivia disapprovingly. “That was very harsh.”
“She’s your sister, dude,” Diamond said. “Show a little compassion.”
“What’s holding up this line?” Gabe Koontz yelled, the top of his ketchup bottle quivering with rage. “I heard there were Tater Tots today!”
Olivia curled her fists into balls, trying to calm down as conversation resumed around her and the freshmen slowly made their way into the cafeteria. She was so tired of people asking her about Kim. Tired of people talking about Kim. Tired of people expecting her to have some kind of response to Kim, and tired of people treating Olivia like she was some kind of heartless monster because she wasn’t consumed by the tragedy of her sister’s breakup. Kim wasn’t even consumed with the tragedy of her own breakup! Olivia wished all of these red sycophants could have seen Kim last night, laughing it up in the kitchen with Mama K as the two of them made vegetarian lasagna, even though Olivia had asked Mama K repeatedly to take that dish out of the rotation, since it didn’t have enough protein and the refined carbohydrates in the pasta weren’t nutrient-dense. Kim certainly hadn’t looked brokenhearted then. But Olivia knew if she tried to tell anyone that, no one would believe her, and they’d probably inform her that Kim had just become the country’s youngest senator or something.
