Top Ten Uses for an Unworn Prom Dress Part 6

"We have time to eat inside. You are going to eat something, right? You're not one of those idiot girls who doesn't eat in front of a guy?"

With the mortgage paid, I did feel a little hungry. But Jared wasn't getting off that easy. "Actually, I am. I totally freak out around cute guys. But at the moment, I'm hungry enough to eat a horse."

He shot me a dirty look, and I smiled back.

Things were returning to normal. I could finally take a breath and relax. Or so I thought.

When we actually entered Burger King to see Rascal and about five of his friends occupying a front booth, I knew my troubles weren't over at all.

c.r.a.p. A coincidence? Maybe. All those people had seen us leave together. But this was the only fast-food place within walking distance of school.

Six pairs of eyes turned on us. Their voices silenced.

I would have loved to have taken credit-to believe the shimmering tension was all about me. But the eye daggers Rascal and Jared were throwing at each other had entirely too much depth, too much history.

"McCreary," spat Rascal.

"Rascal," replied Jared, with venom.

Both guys were seeing red and practically sc.r.a.ping their hooves for a fight.

Push between two idiots and crack The Dress like a matador's cape-even though two cows do not make a bull, the BS is sure to start flying.

What was this about? Had Jared messed with Kylie at some point?

Nah. Alison would have mentioned it.

A smile must have taken over my face, because suddenly Jared turned his iron gaze on me, then made a hard turn into the line to order.

I followed.

"What are you so happy about?" he snapped. "Did you know he was going to be here?"

"No," I mumbled with more frown than voice. "You're the one who suggested this place."

His jaw clenched as if he wanted to say something,then decided to keep it inside. "Okay. What do you want?"

"A cheeseburger. Diet c.o.ke." I went for the ten in my front pocket.

His hand stopped mine in midair, touching me for just an instant. A nice instant. A really confusing instant. "It's on me."

"But you said-"

"I'm paying, Nic."

He retrieved his wallet from his back pocket, and I swear he threw a look over his shoulder at Rascal, as well. A look that said: She's with me.

Okay, so while I got that this weirdness had nothing to do with me, I was also pretty sure Jared was using me to his advantage. Which meant I had a right to know what this was all about.

And hey, I'd fessed up about my mother and the mortgage, so fair was fair.

He told the cashier we wanted the food to go, paid, and grabbed the paper sack. I grabbed the cups, filled up the drinks, and followed him toward the exit.

My heart went into a giddyup as we approached Rascal and his friends. Rascal, now outside the booth, was lounging with his backside against the table. His feet could easily reach out and trip a pa.s.serby. If he wanted them to.

Did he dare? Would World War III break out here in the restaurant?

Just stay cool, I said in my head.

Or at least I thought it was in my head. But suddenly my words were hanging in the air. And Rascal, whose gaze I was holding, was shrugging.

"I am cool, Nicolette. I'm the coolest guy you'll ever know."

I could feel Jared's muscles tighten beside me. So not good.

"Well," I said, thinking fast on my unsteady feet, "that makes you and Jared exact opposites, then."

All eyes moved to me like I was the center of a french fry-smelling universe. The Burger Queen.

"Yeah, Rascal," I said, my thoughts racing, "you're definitely the coolest guy I know. But Jared?" I said, forcing a smug smile. "He's the hottest."

Silence. Except for a lady and some kids at another booth who didn't seem to understand the dire necessity of defusing this situation.

Then one of Rascal's friends chuckled. Damon or Harrison or someone. Then another. Then Rascal himself.

I couldn't even think of looking over at Jared. Who might like the fact that I'd called him hot. But also, might not.

Rascal's mouth bunched into an all-knowing smile. "I think you're going to change your mind about which one of us is hottest, Nicolette. Sooner, if not later."

I swallowed-hard. Was he implying there'd be an "us"-a Rascal and me-in the future?

Jared took a long, hard stride forward. "I'm more than happy to take Kylie into my backseat and let her be the final judge of who's hot and who's not," he spat at Rascal.

Okay ... not so good anymore. Besides the fact that the level of testosterone had me gasping like an asthmatic, I knew I had to get Jared out of Burger King before something bad happened.

I grabbed his hand, and to my shock, he didn't fight my grasp. In fact, he laced his fingers through mine.

Rascal's eyes took on a death-ray-like glare. "Kylie's off-limits."

"Yeah?" Jared said. "Well, so is Nicolette."

I was?

I was!

The room went spinning. As much as I wanted this to last forever and ever and ever, I knew this was dangerous territory.

"Come on, Jared," I said, in a fake girly whine. "We've got to get back to school."

The guys glared at each other, and then Jared turned, all red-faced, and walked out with me.

He didn't drop my hand until we reached the pa.s.senger door of his car, when he used his key to turn the lock for me.

Moments later, we were zooming out of the lot.

"So I-I'm off-limits?" I stammered over the blast from the air-conditioning vents.

"To him, anyway. He's got a girlfriend. And you're too smart to let him sniff around you again."

Huh. I was a little disappointed. Although I wasn't sure why. His answer was so logical.

"And I didn't need your help in there, Nic," he continued, squinting at the windshield, so obviously preoccupied and ticked off that he'd forgotten to put his shades back on. "I can fight my own battles."

"I know that. But you stepped up for me at the bank," I defended myself lamely.

He ground his teeth. "That was different."

"Yeah, but somehow I'm involved in this, so I deserve to know what's happening." I pulled the wrapper off a straw and plunked it into my Diet c.o.ke. "Is this about ... her? Did you go out with her at some point?" (For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to say Kylie's name.) "I've never touched Kylie."

"Did something happen at school?"

"We're not even in the same cla.s.ses."

Oh, yeah, Jared was all AP. And Rascal ... well, he was known more for his feats on the football field and in the hallways.

Jared grabbed his burger, took a bite, and swallowed, ignoring me. Then, finally, he broke. "The fact is I hate him as much as he hates me. And since I've been driving you around again, and you seem to be the only girl at school who doesn't quiver in his presence, it's making him crazy."

He veered around a car, then looked at me, his voice losing its hard edge. "Okay, I guess I should thank you.You kind of kept me in check back there. Especially taking my hand like that. It distracted me."

I reached for the air-conditioning vent and tilted it toward me, suddenly all kinda warm. "You're welcome."

"And from here on, I'll keep you out of it. You've got enough on your mind."

I took a bite of my burger before my thoughts fell out of my mouth again and got me in real trouble. If I'm not mistaken, I think I kind of liked being in the thick of this thing.

When I stumbled in from practice, Mom was soaking in the tub.

"There's a chicken Caesar in the fridge!" she called through the slightly open bathroom door. "Help yourself!"

I was starving, but before I could eat I needed a short pit stop. It was silly and flat-out embarra.s.sing, but I really, really wanted time with The Dress.

Needed it.

I'd done the shower thing in the locker room, so I didn't have to worry about sweat or anything unseemly defacing its perfection.

I unzipped the bag and inhaled the fabric's sweetness. I could swear the soft rose color and the tiny embroidered flower buds gave off a scent all their own. I shed my shorts and tee, zipped myself inside its elegance, and turned to gaze in the mirror. The waistline somehow gave me an hourgla.s.s shape, and the color looked rich against my fading summer tan. But most of all, the pure enchantment of The Dress showed in my eyes. They were almost gleaming.

I moved to the bed, turned, and did one of those trust falls. Hard enough to set the springs of the bed screaming, but hyperaware not to harm the fabric or st.i.tching on The Dress, of course.

A single ring from the cordless phone broke my musing. Mindlessly, I reached for it and pressed on. And heard a male voice.

"Hey, Nic."

Rascal?

Jared?

Fire lit my face.

"Hey," I managed, sitting up, telling myself to get a grip.

"Something I wanted to talk about," he said.

The voice sounded deep, like Jared. Besides, why would Rascal call me? There was no date to break.

"Something I thought about after we went to cla.s.s."

Cla.s.s. Oh, definitely Jared.

"You doing anything tomorrow?" he continued.

"Not really," I said, thanking G.o.d there wasn't widespread use of video phones yet. How would I explain to Jared-how would I explain to anyone-why I was sitting in a pink crinoline gown at six o'clock on a Friday evening? Alone?

"Good," he said. "I'll pick you up at around noon, all right?"

"Okay, Jared," I said, just to be sure.

"Bring one of your mother's business cards. And a picture of her."

"Huh?"

"I'll explain tomorrow." He paused and sort of laughed. "And it'll give you something to think about."

I didn't need anything to think about. My brain was already overloaded. What I needed was to get off the phone and out of this dress.

"So, yeah, tomorrow," I said, looking down at myself, caught in a weird net of fantasy and reality. "Okay, see you then." I hung up and shuffled toward the hanger on the back of my door, and with a hot face and a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach, retired The Dress to its home.

The next morning, I did my usual Sat.u.r.day sleep-in and long, lazy shower. Then I broke with tradition. I reached under the sink for the blow-dryer. Luckily, Mom was sitting an open house for some other realtor or I would have gotten Twenty Questions from her. She'd grill me about boys, ask me who I was trying to impress.