Art Geeks and Prom Queens by Alyson Noel
“Let’s make it two, I don’t think they’ll complain. Plus there’s someone I want to visit,” I say.
Then I go upstairs to my room, dial the number I still remember by heart, and ask for Paige.
Forty-six
Paige was way nicer to me than I deserved and without going into too much detail I explained that I took a little detour, but basically I was back. So we made plans to meet after the Gap shoot at this restaurant in Manhattan called Serendipity, for huge hot-fudge sundaes. I mean, I figure I’m probably really gonna need one after a day spent with former almost-supermodels who only eat lettuce.
“Do you mind if I bring Hud? Or would you rather it be just us?” she asks.
“Bring him,” I say. “You know, I really am happy for you. It must be so great to have a boyfriend who’s also your best friend.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty great,” she says.
After dinner, I’m sitting in my room reading The Grapes of Wrath, and trying to not think about the art exhibit when Kayla calls.
“Jen and I are going to the exhibit, do you wanna come?” she asks.
“What? I thought you guys weren’t into art.”
“Yeah well, we’re thinking we should expand our horizons.”
“I don’t know,” I say “I feel kind of weird about going. I mean, I was supposed to help organize it, but then I kind of dropped out.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re going, and we’re picking you up in fifteen.”
The minute I hang up I race to my closet and throw on some olive-green cargo pants, a white tank top, dangly earrings, some beaded flat shoes, and my little denim jacket in case it gets cold. And it’s not until I’m in the car that I realize I’m wearing the exact same outfit I wore on that dreadful “date” with Jas.
We talk and joke the whole way there, but we don’t talk about Kristi since we’re pretty much trying to not gossip, and just move past all that. And I’m having fun and feeling pretty good for the first time in days. But when we enter the exhibit I start to feel kind of mad at myself. I mean, there are all these sculptures, and paintings, and photographs from all these different schools, and I should have something displayed here too.
Jen and Kayla go scoping for hotties, so I’m just wandering around on my own, looking at all the different perceptions of values like Truth, Justice, Faith—
And Beauty?
Hanging on the wall, in a simple black frame, is one of my lost photos. It’s a close-up of a hermit crab in a tide pool, with his shiny black eyes looking huge and inquisitive, while his splayed legs and claws with their vibrant, symmetrical red, orange, and white stripes fill the background with color. I just stand there staring at it in complete disbelief. And as I reach out to touch it, someone behind me goes, “It is beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Did you do this?” I turn and face him.
Jas nods.
“But where did you find it? I’ve been looking all over for it.”
“I found your prints, sort of abandoned in the darkroom. So I saved them, in case you came back.”
“In case I came back?”
“I mean, in case you ever wanted them again,” he says, looking slightly embarrassed.
He’s looking right at me and it makes me feel dizzy, but dizzy in a good way—if there is such a thing. “You took the other pictures, too, didn’t you? And you left the film in my camera so I would find it.”
“How’d that work out?” he asks.
“You must be the only one in Newport that doesn’t know.”
“I was in here all day.” He shrugs.
“Well, I’ve been acquitted, and I have you to thank.” I smile. “So how did you get those pictures?”
“Well, I was kind of worried about you ‘cause of everything that was going on, but you didn’t seem like you wanted to talk. And since I had your camera, I decided to take a picture of something funny, something that might make you laugh when you were developing it. But when I saw Kristi, I decided to help you instead. I didn’t mention it since I knew you’d find it eventually and decide what to do.”
He looks at me and smiles and I just can’t help myself. “Oh, Jas,”
I take a step toward him, just as this really pretty girl walks up, puts her arm around him, and goes, “So which one’s yours, Jasper?”
And he goes, “My sculpture’s over there, and my painting’s on that wall.”
“Show me,” she says.
Then he looks at me. “Don’t move,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”
So I stand there and watch them walk away. And then I leave. Because I’ve seen about all the beauty I can take.
Forty-seven
I only get as far as the bench outside, since the second I’m out the door I remember I don’t have a driver’s license, a car, or any idea where my friends are.
So I kick off my shoes and I’m sitting with my knees drawn up against my chest and my forehead pressed into my knees, and I’m feeling soft, vulnerable, and completely exposed, like a hermit crab without a shell.
And I remember learning about hermit crabs in ninth-grade biology how when they outgrow their home, they go searching for a new one. But just because they’re always moving into bigger digs, doesn’t mean they forget where they came from, oftentimes bringing along their old friends, the sponges and sea anemones that lived on the old shell, and transplanting them right onto the new one.
I guess I’m searching for my own new shell. But this time I promise, I won’t forget who I am, and there’ll be room for everyone.
“What are you doing?”
I look up and see Kayla standing in front of me. “Oh, just getting some air. Do you guys wanna bail soon?” I ask.
“Are you crazy? Do you have any idea how many cute guys are in there?”
“No. I only saw one.”
“Well there’s tons! You’ve seriously got to come back in and check it out! And there’s this group of freshman girls that cut their hair really short and bleached it blond to look like yours. You’ve gotta see it!”
“In a minute,” I say, closing my eyes and pressing my face back against my knees.
But as she’s walking inside I hear her go, “Oh, hey Jas. Rio? She’s right over there.”
I sit up straight, and run my hands through my hair, even though it doesn’t really get messed up anymore. Then I smile as he sits next to me like everything’s totally normal.
“I was looking all over for you,” he says.
“Oh, I just wanted to get some air.” I look down at my toes, so I won’t have to look at him.
We sit there like that for a while and he says something about it being a nice night, but mostly it’s quiet and I just can’t take it anymore. So I turn to him and go, “So, where’s your girlfriend?”
And he goes, “What? You mean Monique? We split a couple months ago.”
Then he looks at me, and even though that’s great news, I was referring to the girlfriend from five minutes ago! So I go, “No, I mean your date.”
“I came here alone,” he says.
So like a complete and total retard who just can’t let it go, I say, “I’m talking about the girl inside, the one who calls you Jasper? Is she the same girl who was in your car that night?”
“What night?” he asks, and to his credit he really does look confused.
“The night—”
You saw me crying and hurling on the street?
“Never mind.” I shake my head and draw my knees in tighter.
“Rio, look at me,” he says.
But no way am I doing that.
“Okay, fine. Then listen. The girl who calls me Jasper is September, and she’s my dad’s girlfriend’s daughter. She’s a sophomore at Newport Harbor High, and she’s not my date. She already has a boyfriend. But even if she didn’t, I wouldn’t be interested.”
Because he’s in love with the girl in the car.
“And the girl in the car is not only forty-two years old,” he say
What kind of idiot wouldn’t look at Jas?
We sit there for a while, not saying anything, but I can feel him staring at me.
And then it hits me: Ohmygod! The idiot is me!
I turn and look right into his topaz eyes.
“Finally,” he says.
And when he kisses me it’s even better than when I dreamed it.
Alyson Noel, Art Geeks and Prom Queens
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