adults and have finally overcome the humiliation of our teenage years, we can tell our kids we weren’t total losers. What do you think?”
He reluctantly stands up. “I guess, when you put it that way. Far be it from me to be a total loser.” He offers me his hand. “Let’s do this.”
“We owe it to future generations.”
“For our children,” he says before turning beet red and mumbling, “Not our children together, I mean my children and your children … with other people.”
“Relax, Buck. I know what you meant.” We walk to the dance floor side-by-side and find an open spot near the middle of a throng of our sparkly dressed peers. The song ends so we stand facing each other while we wait for the next one to come on. Three weeks later, or so it seems, the beginning strains of a golden oldie blast through the speakers. “Love of the Common People,” from the Sixteen Candles soundtrack. I wonder if it’s an omen that maybe I shouldn’t give up on my dreams.
Buck lets out a cynical sounding laugh. “More like survival of the common people, huh?”
“We’re not common, Buck,” I tell him. “We’re not so lucky. We’re two very uncommon people spending their adolescence in a high school where we don’t fit in, living three trailers away from each other in a small-town trailer park in Missouri.”
“We’re smart,” he says. “Which is a lot more than most of these goons have going for them. I’d rather be uncommon with options than destined for mediocrity.”
I look up at my date and really consider him before agreeing. “I like how you think. Why is it we’ve never talked before?”
He arches an eyebrow in question. “Really? Seems to me the answer is obvious. We’re both afraid of being the target of any more negative attention.”
“Ouch,” I reply.
Buck shrugs as if saying, just because the truth hurts, doesn’t mean it’s not the truth.
My date turns out to be a good dancer which he attributes to his grandmother’s obsession with the television show Dancing with the Stars. “She makes me practice the steps with her,” he confesses.
“I haven’t the words to describe how shocking I find that,” I joke.
“Yeah, well, tell anyone and I’ll deny it.”
“Janine and Melody wouldn’t care. In fact, they’d probably think it was sweet.”
He gives me a little spin to showcase his moves. Luckily, I somehow manage to retain my footing and don’t trip. Suddenly, he asks, “You like Davis Frothingham, right?”
“Why would you think that?” I practically choke on the words. Have I got no game at all?
“I hate to be the one to tell you, but I’m pretty sure everyone knows. You stare at the guy a lot.”
I want to curl up in a ball of embarrassment and die. “Really?” I squeak, hoping he’ll lie to me and tell me he was just kidding.
No such luck. “I’ll let you in on a secret.”
“What could possibly be as embarrassing as the fact that I’m pining for a guy so far out of my league we might as well be playing ball on different planets?”
“How about this?” he asks before divulging, “I’ve had a crush on Jessica Holt since we were in kindergarten.”
Disgust must be etched across my face because he hurries to add, “I know she’s never going to think I’m anything but a slug beneath her feet, but I can’t help myself.”
“Did you ever consider the whole vampire-look might be working against you?” I venture to ask.
He stares behind me transfixed by something or someone. “I’m not much to look at without it. I figured being different would at least make me less invisible.”
I totally feel his pain. I’d wear a paper bag over my head to school if it meant people wouldn’t notice me and stop referring to me by the horrendous nickname Chad Adkinson stuck me with on my first day at Creek Water High.
“We should enlist Sammy’s help,” I tell him. “She took some hair courses at beauty school before deciding to focus on nails. I bet she could help you mainstream your look so people would notice you in a good way.”
“I guess it couldn’t hurt.” Then he spins me around so I can see what he was just looking at.
Davis and Jessica are dancing right next to us. They’re like Cinderella and Prince Charming. Davis catches my eye before offering a knee-buckling smile.
Jessica must sense his focus isn’t solely on her because she maneuvers him around so she’s facing me. She flips