Marney in the Middle

Chapter 27: Assignment 4

Monday came too soon. After my sister and I had our heart-to-heart in which she explained to me her new plan, I passed out. Didn't get any homework done and avoided two phone calls from the Wilkerson number. Malcolm or Reese, I didn't care. I was way too embarrassed to talk to either of them.

Carissa, Francine and Betty meet me at our usual lunch table before the first bell. They're dressed an almost matching outfits of pencil skirts and blouses. I glance down at my skinny jeans and sweater, feeling more than a little self-conscious. Toria said I could help pick out my clothes more and I'm suddenly not so sure it was a good idea to take her up on that offer.

"Hi, hi, hi," Carissa says without looking up from her phone. My assumption is she's huffy about the fact that I asked them to meet me, essentially stepping on her toes as leader of our—their little group.

Whatever. She can get over. It's not as if I'm trying to push her out and take her place. My stomach clenches as I realize that might not be true; who knows what else Toria has up her sleeve with Makeover Marney 2.0.

"Hi," I say, trying to smile.

Betty and Francine return the smile before glancing at Carissa. We wait. The blonde popular girl takes her sweet time finishing up whatever she's doing on her phone before giving me her attention.

"So, what's this all about, M?"

I take a deep breath. All three of them are now staring at me, causing me to feel pretty unsure. But Toria said it was a great idea and – despite the disaster that was Saturday – I think, maybe I probably trust her. Possibly.

"I've been thinking," I start in what I hope is a confident voice. "You know what this school needs?"

"A glee club," Francine asks.

I frown as Carissa shoots the red-haired girl an annoyed expression. "We have a glee club," she snaps.

"We do?" Francine blinks and tilts her head to the side, "Then why am I not gleeful?"

Gnawing the inside of my cheek to keep myself from groaning and/ or laughing, I force my smile to stick and shake my head. "Anyway, no, not a glee club." Francine shrugs before inspecting her blue-painted fingernails.

"Then what?" Betty arches an eyebrow. Her long black hair is slicked back into its usual French braid, but this times she weaved colorful hair extensions in it. Teal, fuchsia and lavender. Makes her stand out from the other two in a way that makes me wonder what Carissa thinks of it.

Straightening up, I take out the flyer my sister and I drew up last night when I wasn't answering my phone or doing homework.

"This."

The three girls go from practically falling asleep with boredom to snapped-upright attention. Carissa, who's perched on our usual lunch table, takes the flyer from me so the other two can lean in on either side of her to study it together.

"A dance," Francine asks, her pale brown eyes wide with excitement.

My smile grows triumphantly as I nod. This might actually work.

"Like a real dance," Betty asks next.

"Mhm."

Carissa flips the flyer over, realizes it's blank, and looks up at me. "And not like these poor excuses for dances school puts on since the budget cuts, right?"

"Exactly." I tap the upper edge of the flyer, "Back at my old school in Seattle, we had all sorts of dances. Homecoming, Sadie Hawkins, Spring Fling – you name it, we probably had it." Shifting my backpack, I purposefully pause for effect (courtesy of Toria Dillon).

"And," Francine says in an almost frantic tone.

"And I want to bring those to this school. Now, we don't really have time to put together a Homecoming dance, but that's alright since there's the Halloween thing next month anyway." All three girls nod. Of course we've already discussed if we'll be going, with whom and as what. "So, my dance will be in November – like the flyer says. It'll be semi-formal—"

"Formal," Carissa interrupts me.

I nibble my bottom lip. Toria told me not to let the girls hijack this, but I don't necessarily want to step on their toes either.

The blonde girl shrugs her slender shoulders, causing her Shirley Temple curls to bounce. "I mean, of course it's up to you and all – it is after all your dance. But"—a second shrug with a look of innocence that I can't tell whether it's feigned or not—"We've never had a formal dance here."

I squint at her while she quickly exchanges glances and head nods of agreement with the other two.

"I just think it would be fun is all," she adds when she looks back at me.

There's a 50/50 chance I'm being manipulated right now, but I shrug. Changing it to formal isn't the end of the world. I was already going to ask them to be on the prep-committee with me since Toria thinks it'll look good for Madeover Marney in the long run.

"Then formal it is," I say finally.

All three popular girls squeal in giddy excitement.

As I bend down to put the flyer mock-up away, I can't help but do a swift fist pump while their busy talking dresses. Step one of assignment four complete.