“What color is your dress?” he asked. “I need to know for the flowers.”
“Oh. Uh . . .” She took a step back from him—which wasn’t easy considering that Scully was right behind her.
“It’s white!” Scully said. “And she doesn’t need any flowers.”
Smiling, the big guy put out his hand to touch Scully’s shoulder, but the smaller boy pulled back.
Baze gave a sigh, then looked over their heads at the group. With a curt nod, he indicated that they should leave. There was no doubt that he was the leader. “See you later,” he said to Abby, then the group moved away, herd fashion.
Chelsea and Eli were still holding hands, still staring at the window.
“You were rude!” Abby said as she turned on Scully.
“And you acted dumb. Are you going to start doing his homework for him?”
“Baze has a 3.8 average. He doesn’t need me to help him with anything. I don’t know why you’re so angry. You said high school dances are for the masses, for people who can’t think for themselves, and that you had no intention of going.”
Chelsea glanced at Eli and he gave a nod of agreement—which Scully saw.
“And you agreed with me,” Scully said.
“Yeah, well, that was before Baze asked me to go with him. Do you realize what this date could mean? Next year I could be one of the popular girls. I—we—could be invited to parties and—”
“I’m sure they’re going to ask you to bring your skinny sidekick with you. Don’t you realize that that guy only wants you because you’re pretty?”
Abby’s face was showing her growing rage. “Do you think I want him for his brain?”
When Chelsea let out a little laugh, then tried to cover it with a cough, Eli practically pushed her inside the store.
“I wanted to hear more,” she said. “And by the way, I’m on her side. He didn’t ask her to go to the dance, but he’s jealous that she’s going with someone else. That’s not fair. She can’t win whatever she does.”
“Like she would have gone with Scully. Ha!” Eli picked up a man’s boot and looked at it.
“Who knows what she would have done if he’d just asked,” Chelsea said between clenched teeth.
“He knew the answer without asking. She’s cursed with being pretty, and he knows that will cause her a lifetime of problems.”
“Only you think physical beauty is bad. But have you looked in a mirror lately? You grew into a guy off the cover of a magazine. Why couldn’t you have done that in high school?”
“Because I was half a head shorter than you and we made fun of people who went to a gym. You were born beautiful; I wasn’t.”
Their voices had risen so much that two customers were staring at them. Chelsea took a step toward the front door, but when she saw Abby and Scully outside, she looked back at Eli. “We should . . .”
“Yeah,” he said. “We should focus on now.” He started walking down the aisle, Chelsea beside him. “If you’re going to tart up the girl for her date with the football player, how does that help Scully? But then, I guess he doesn’t matter, does he? The point is to replace the dress money Peterson stole, so the ‘nerdy little geek,’ as you call him, is of no consequence.”
Chelsea put her hands into fists at her sides. “Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”
“Yes. Is it working?”
Her anger left her and she smiled. “Yes, it is. So what’s your plan?”
“I don’t have one. I just don’t want the kid to have to see the love of his life in some dress that makes her look like she stepped out of heaven. I don’t want him to have to watch her get into a limo with some meatheaded jock. That’s all.”
Chelsea knew he was referring to her first prom. The gorgeous dress she wore, the beautiful young man, the limo. She’d gone to Eli’s house—to her friend—to show off. He’d been wearing sweats and he’d barely looked at her. She’d been so hurt by his inattention that tears had made her mascara run. With the selfishness of a teenager, she’d not even thought that Eli had been hurt on that night.
“So change it,” she said. “Turn Scully into something other than a nerd.”
“That would take six years of growth and a whole lot of iron,” Eli muttered.