The guys stood up and ambled over to the stage, where we greeted them with enthusiastic embraces. At least, Sidney and I did. Morgan Castle, not being on kissing terms with her escort, apparently, sidled shyly up to him and said, “Hi,” while staring at her feet in her Aerosoles mary janes. Jenna, however, stayed where she was, center stage. It soon became very apparent, even to the sound guys, who were so clueless that they’d thought Sidney’s Kelly Clarkson song was country-western, that we were one guy short.
“Miss Hicks,” Ms. Hayes said, carefully patting her enormous, bouffanty hairdo, which a gentle breeze from the sound was in danger of collapsing. “Where is your escort?”
Jenna looked down at the toes of her combat boots (seriously…her feet had to be sweating so much. I wouldnot want to be there when she pulls those things off). “I don’t have an escort,” Jenna said softly.
“I beg your pardon, Miss Hicks?” Ms. Hayes said. “You have to speak up, honey. I can’t hear you if you mumble.”
“I DON’T HAVE AN ESCORT,” Jenna yelled.
Ms. Hayes looked astonished. Clearly, from her expression, in the history of the Eastport Quahog Princess pageant, there had never before been an entrant who hadn’t shown up with an escort.
“Are you saying you don’t knowany young man who would be willing to act as your escort, Miss Hicks?” Ms. Hayes demanded.
“No one who would be caught dead doing something this lame,” Jenna mumbled.
“Excuse me, Miss Hicks?” Ms. Hayes went from looking astonished to looking irritated in about a second flat. “What did you just say?”
“I said no, I don’t.” Jenna looked like she wanted to die on the spot. I didn’t really blame her.
“Well, one of you boys escort her, then,” Ms. Hayes said, pointing one of her pink-and-whites at Seth, Dave, and Eric — who all exchanged panicked glances, as if to say,Not me, man. Youdo it.
Ms. Hayes, however, doesn’t take any more guff from her players — the dramatic kind — than her husband takes from the football kind.
“Eric,” she said flatly. “You do it.”
“I’d love to, Ms. Hayes,” Eric said in his most actor-y voice. “But I’m Morgan’s escort.”
“You can escort Morgan, then come around and escort Jenna after,” Ms. Hayes said, clearly not falling for the actor-y thing.
“But that wouldn’t really be fair to Morgan, would it?” Eric asked. And he even had the nerve to put his arm around Morgan’s waist, causing her to widen her eyes and smile a little, as if she weren’t sure whether to be flattered or alarmed.
“Oh, no,” Morgan said, her pale cheeks getting a little bit of color in them. “It’s okay, Eric. Really.”
“I don’t need an escort,” Jenna declared…and this time, she didn’t mumble. “I am fully capable of walking across the stage by myself, Ms. Hayes.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jenna,” Ms. Hayes said. “You have to have an escort. It’s Quahog Princess tradition. Seth, you do it.”
I felt Seth stiffen beside me. “Gee,” he said. And I could tell he was smothering a laugh. “I’d love to, Ms. Hayes. But I’m not sure how Katie would feel about that.”
“I’m fine with it,” I said loudly, feeling a flash of annoyance at Seth…and Eric, too. What was wrong with my boyfriends, that they couldn’t stand the idea of being seen onstage with a girl who, okay, might not be Eastport High’s most popular, but who’s still a human being, for God’s sake?
Sidney elbowed me as soon as I said it, though. I knew it was because she didn’t want Jenna gaining any kind of edge over us, and if she didn’t have an escort, so much the better.
And if Eric had to escort both Jenna and Morgan, it basically made both of them look like freaks, paving the way for Sidney and me to take first and second place, consecutively…not that there had ever been any doubt of this before (at least according to Sidney).
But why was I trying to stir up trouble with myI’m fine with it?
Except that Iwas fine with it. What I wasn’t so fine with was Seth — and Eric — being so rude about it.
But then something happened that I was so not fine with, it made the other stuff I wasn’t fine with seem like nothing.
And that was Eric Fluteley opening his mouth and going, “Hey, I know. Katie, why don’t you call Tommy Sullivan and ask him to escort Jenna, now that he’s back in town? I bet he’s not doing anything tomorrow night.”
Eleven
Seth didn’t drop his arm away from me or anything. At least, not right away.
In fact,nobody reacted right away. Everyone just kind of stood there, going, “What?”
Except for Eric, of course, who was busy laughing at his own joke. Which wasn’t even technically a joke, since it wasn’t funny. To anyone but him, anyway.
Then Seth looked down at me through those impossibly long lashes of his, and went, “What’s he talking about, babe?”
And suddenly, I knew. I knew just what Tommy Sullivan was doing back in town.
And the memory of how I’d almost let him kiss me — would have let him kiss me, if he’d tried. Which he hadn’t — caused color to flood into my cheeks. I hoped no one would notice. Maybe I could just blame it on the heat, if anyone asked.
“Oh, nothing,” I said dismissively. “I ran into Tommy Sullivan downtown this morning, and Eric was just driving by.”
“That freak,” Seth said. I knew that if Ms. Hayes hadn’t been around, Seth would have used a different word to describe Tommy…one that also started with the letter F, but wasn’t quite as socially acceptable asfreak.
“Well, his grandparents still live here,” Dave, the smoother-over, said.
Then, because Sidney glared at him — I guess because she was wondering how he knew so much about Tommy’s grandparents — Dave added defensively, “What? They go to my church. He’s probably here visiting them.”
“No, he isn’t,” Eric said, before I could give him a look to shut him up. “He’s starting at Eastport High next week. Isn’t that what he said, Katie?”
I closed my eyes again, expecting that chasm I’d thought was going to split open in front of Eastport Old Towne Photo to appear before me. You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed this statement. Or, this being Eastport, a quahog spit, over by the sound.
Then Seth cried,“WHAT?” at the same time Ms. Hayes declared, “Enough with the chitchat, people. We haven’t finished our rehearsal.”
I opened my eyes. Still no chasm.
But I really, really wanted to jump into one anyway.
“Seriously,” Eric said, looking slightly alarmed by the decibel level of Seth’s outburst…which was high. “He told us so himself. Didn’t he, Katie?”
That’s when Seth dropped his arm from around my waist.
“Wait a minute,” he said, staring down at me with hurt in those puppy-dog brown eyes of his. “Tommy Sullivan is back in town? And you didn’ttell me?”
And there it was. Exactly what Tommy was doing here, confirmed:
HE WAS TRYING TO RUIN MY LIFE.
But no way was I going to let him. Even if I maybe deserved to have my life ruined, for ruining Tommy’s, four years earlier. I mean, isn’t there a statute of limitations on life ruinage, anyway?
“Honestly, I didn’t think it was that big a deal,” I said, blinking up at Seth with my most innocent expression — the one Sidney and I had practiced in her bedroom mirror in the event we were ever caught by our boyfriends issuing hottie alerts for other guys. “I only just found out myself. And, I mean, all that stuff with Tommy was so long ago. I figured it was all just water under the bridge.” (Thanks for that one, Mom.)
But it was clear it wasn’t all water under the bridge for Seth.