continued.
Dances never used to bug me; I usually just thought they were boring in middle school. All the boys had sweaty hands and took a bath in cologne. My toes suffered damage from being stepped on during the group dates Jenna and I went with.
But now that there was someone I could potentially want to go with, a person who seemed to only be my friend, it was hard to think about. I couldn't tell what was going on in Henry's head, even though he seemed to know everything that went on in mine. Even though he wasn't dating Lainey, I knew that I wasn't really his type. After our initial flirtation, Henry seemed to be all business during our tutoring sessions, which had continued through the month. I didn't really know what to think.
Boys like him favored the girls who always wore a bunch of makeup and dressed in designer clothes. No matter how different he seemed, the rules seemed certain.
I went over to Theo's house after school. I'd been there several times before, but only for brief moments when she needed to fetch something or take care of a chore. Normally we hung out at my house, without comment from me. I knew how trapped I felt sometimes in my own.
Sitting in her living room, our discussion was fixed on the topic of the dance. Her cats, Persephone and Pandora, strode into the room, jumping on the couch. I petted Pandora's rabbit-like white fur as she nuzzled up next to me.
Theo sat on the floor, a mug of tea perched between her knees. Motel-style paintings of bowls of fruit decorated the walls. Theo told me Ms. Vore painted them herself. A cabinet with china dolls and figurines, the type advertised in catalogues for commemorative purposes, was tucked in the corner. It was nothing like I had imagined before I set foot inside; in my head, I'd pictured their house would look like something in a city apartment, Picasso prints and furniture from Beetlejuice.
"I've never actually been to a dance," Theo admitted, sipping her tea. The back of her hair fanned out on the faint plaid couch cushion. "No big deal."
"I just wish people didn't have to talk about it all the time," I said. I was only exaggerating a little; I had literally been hearing conversations all day about dresses and whether limos were a worthwhile investment.
"Anything to make them feel important," Theo said. "Have you heard or seen any shadiness from McPherson, by the way? We kind of dropped the ball on that one."
I had tried to put him out of my mind. The last thing I needed was to get on the Principal's bad side.
"Nothing. But I haven't been really paying too much attention to him, either. I don't want him to get too suspicious, especially when he already caught me following him. And I have no idea what he does after school."
"Do you think he still lives with his mom?" Theo asked randomly, looking at me.
"It's possible," I said, chuckling. "Why?"
"That's always a sign of a mentally unbalanced person, when they're over thirty," she said, tapping her forehead with one ink-smudged finger. "At least on TV. We should find out." I was glad to know I wasn't the only one who took my research from TV shows.
"Are you suggesting we locate his house and spy on it?" I asked, pretending to be taken aback.
"Nothing better to do. I'm bored," she said, stretching her arms up.
When one is in doubt, it's best to check online. We went to her computer (I had another short burst of jealousy at the fact that she even had her own computer, even though it was normal for most people) and typed in the school's name. Hawthorne had a pretty comprehensive website. Our parents could check our grades throughout the marking period online, so they knew when to berate us. It was a good bet that McPherson's personal information would be up, at the very least a phone number.
The entire administration had their addresses and phone numbers listed, including McPherson. We mapped his address and Theo printed out the directions, making a neat crease in the paper. Going into the backyard, we retrieved our bikes. Theo's had polka dot ribbons tied to the handlebars. McPherson's house was about ten minutes away in the opposite direction from Hawthorne. We biked there in silence, the cool, autumn scented air blowing in our faces.
The house itself was plain, with white siding and a meticulously