Episode 2 - Teegan
"Two hours," I reminded Zane as I pulled up in front of Dick's Sporting Goods. The mall wasn't worth two hours of browsing, but if I walked slowly enough, I could chew up the time.
"Three," Zane negotiated as he unbuckled.
"Two or you're walking home," I insisted. He smiled, knowing I wouldn't live up to the threat.
"I'll call you in two," Zane said, and quickly left before I could solidify the time. He would call me in two hours and attempt to pad the clock. I sighed and drove to the other side of the mall to park next to Macy's. Their shoe department had some boots I had been eyeing. If they were on sale, it might make the trip worthwhile. No way Mom would turn me down if I'm driving Zane around.
The store was empty of customers as I made my way to the shoe department. It was nice to roam the aisles without having to dodge strollers and bags. I found the boots quickly, brown leather with a brass buckle holding barely useful leather straps secure above the ankle. It was a tall boot that would look great with my skirts. I liked the lines and the way it would shape my calf. The $260 price tag was more than Mom would swallow, at least not without a birthday or Christmas.
"Those would look so good on you," I heard from behind me. I recognized the voice as Samantha's and turned with a smile.
"They would, wouldn't they?" I agreed. Samantha nodded. I held my smile even though her hand was entwined with Gene's. I was disappointed she wasn't alone. I hated my jealousy. "Hi, Gene."
"Hi, Teegs," Gene said as he pushed some of his auburn hair out of his eyes with his free hand. He had one of those chiseled faces I wasn't sure was handsome. I knew he wasn't ugly, or average, it was just that something wasn't quite right with the symmetry.
"A little over my budget right now," I added, putting the boot back on the display table. "You two doing some shopping?"
"Just hanging out," Samantha smiled. Gene looked strangely at her like he didn't understand. I could see Samantha squeeze his hand hard. His face went quiet, and he left it alone.
"Prom dress?" I asked. Samantha didn't want to remind me that I was without a date.
"Tux," Samantha replied almost sadly. I loved her and hated her in the same thought. It wasn't pity in her tone; it was regret. "You shopping for boots?" she asked, trying to change the subject.
"NO, chauffeur," I replied, "Zane is running around here somewhere."
"Doesn't he have his license yet?" Gene asked. He let go of Samantha's hand, strangely making me feel a little better.
"Another five months," I answered shaking my head, "We'll have to share the car then, so I'm not sure I'm looking forward to it."
"Look," Gene said, "we don't know what we're doing. If you got some time, maybe you could help out." His eyes were honest though Samantha looked hesitant. "I could use another opinion," Gene added as he looked at Samantha, then back at me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to get involved in Gene's tux. Being the third wheel wasn't appealing.
"You've always had better taste than me," Samantha said. "We could use the help." There was an honest pleading in her voice. I had two hours to kill.
"Are you sure I wouldn't be in the way?"
"Not if you know anything about tuxes," Gene said.
"Please," Samantha said. She smiled and looked at me in a way only I would understand. It wasn't the get-lost look; it was her please-come-with-me face.
"Well," I said, "I'm not sure I know what's fashionable, but I can veto the dogs." Gene smiled and nodded his head. Samantha grabbed my hand and pulled me down the aisle. At least I wasn't going to wallow in self-pity all day.We spent the walk to the formal store discussing Mr. Prichard's pre-calc test. Everyone was in agreement that it was way too difficult, and contained problems we'd never discussed in class. Mr. Prichard was a math geek and thought the world loved it as much as he did. He always wore a bow tie and began the day with 'Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the world of numbers.' 'Welcome to hell,' most of us would think.
"He'll have to curve," Gene said, more trying to convince himself than us. Gene's parents forced him into AP classes. He had always struggled to keep his head above water.
"There's always someone that wrecks the curve," Samantha said, then turned her head. "Isn't that right Caleb?" I turned to find Caleb McGuire following about five steps behind us. His face turned ten shades of red as he fumbled for a response. Scholastically, Caleb was brilliant. Socially, he lacked a strong presence. I could tell that Samantha calling him out hurt him almost physically.
"I screwed up the extra credit problem," Caleb said defensively. His raven hair was hanging sloppily over his ears, almost like he was in the midst of trying to grow it long. The part on the left side was askew with windblown strands crisscrossing over it.
"Did you screw up the curve?" Gene asked ominously. I was surprised when Caleb didn't flinch. I didn't know him well, but I figured he would be fearful around someone as tall as Gene. Caleb played violin in the school orchestra. Gene; basketball and track.
"Probably," Caleb replied strongly, "I can't dunk a ball, so I ace tests." I was surprised at his stance. It wasn't threatening, but it was wall-like. He wasn't going to back down at Gene's words. Caleb was my size, around a head shorter than Gene.
"Touché," Gene laughed. Caleb relaxed and smiled. I heard Samantha let out a breath. She hadn't been sure of how Gene would react. "You know anything about tuxes?" Gene asked.
"About as much as dunking a ball," Caleb admitted.
"Well," Samantha said, "you can join us anyway. Save you the trouble of following us around."
"I wasn't following," Caleb defended himself. His face was going red again.
"Come," I said, "keep me company. I don't want to feel like the third wheel." Caleb wasn't really in my circle of friends, but his backbone impressed me and I wanted Samantha to stop teasing him. I don't think he could hold his own against a woman. He brightened immediately and agreed. I felt his smile was more than it should have been. We were only going tux shopping.
"So," Gene said when the four of us were mobile again, "when are we going to meet this college guy? I hear he plays for Notre Dame." It was my turn to blush.
"What are you talking about?" Samantha asked. She looked to Gene, then to me in confusion. I sighed.
"I heard Teegan's date goes to Notre Dame," Gene replied to Samantha. Samantha looked at me, probably wondering why I never told her.
"I heard he's the backup left tackle," Caleb added.
"There's no college guy," I said, "Zane made it up and it got around." Weirdly, Caleb smiled again. I turned away from him, not understanding why he found my datelessness humorous.
"Why would he do that?" Samantha asked.
"Mason Crawford asked him if I had a date for the prom," I replied.
"He's a jerk," Samantha said. I nodded.
"Zane didn't know what to do, so he made up a guy bigger than Mason," I said. Gene laughed, and Samantha slugged him in the shoulder.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Samantha demanded of Gene.
"You guys are like best friends," Gene defended himself, "I thought I was the last to know." Samantha turned to me.
"I just found out on the ride over," I said, shrugging my shoulders.
"That's why no one's asked you to the prom," Samantha said, moving closer to me. "God! I was beginning to think all the guys were just stupid."
"I can dump this violent woman," Gene said as he rubbed his arm where Samantha had hit him, "and escort you to the prom." Samantha went still facing me, away from Gene. I could see the smile on her face, but Gene only saw the stillness.
"I'm joking, Sam," Gene pleaded. Samantha turned and showed him her smile. For a second, I thought they were going to do some mushy public display. Instead, he held out his hand, and she took it. I guessed that's how they forgave the little things.
"Store's just around the corner," Caleb said, pointing the way. He still had that strange smirk on his face. It was slightly uncomfortable, but we followed his lead anyway.
We were all busy looking at the manikins, trying to envision the displayed tuxes on Gene. All of the attendants seemed to be busy at the moment. Samantha didn't seem pleased with any she was seeing, and Gene looked completely out of place. I was able to nix a few of the styles, but was indeterminate about the rest.
"What color is your dress?" Caleb asked out of the blue. His eyes moved to Samantha, who looked surprised at his question.
"Off white," Samantha replied, "I think they called it champagne." Caleb nodded and walked farther down an aisle as if the information had meaning. He was busy along a rack as the rest of us tried not to look stupid. I hadn't realized how many styles there were. Samantha was busy pointing out certain looks and Gene dutifully shrugged his shoulders.
"Here," Caleb said, handing a set of hangers filled with clothes to Gene. I was again struck by the confidence he showed. I've been going to school with him for years, and never knew he had an individual thought. Of course, I had never spent any time with him before. Gene shrugged and took the clothes into the dressing room.
"I thought you didn't know anything about tuxes," I pointed out quietly to Caleb. Samantha was three racks over, still mesmerized by the number of choices.
"I know everything there is to know about dunking a ball," Caleb whispered, "I'm just not tall enough to do it." I covered my mouth and held back a laugh. Again he surprised me. Orchestra nerd with a sense of humor.
"Where are you going after you graduate?" I asked, shifting closer. His humor had shrunk my personal space. Caleb was becoming one of those surprising people you wouldn't mind knowing better.
"Not sure," Caleb said, moving a step away under the guise of examining a tux further down the rack. "I've been accepted to MIT, but my parents want me to go to Stanford." My eyes widened. I didn't know he was that smart. I didn't think anyone at our school went to those types of schools.
"Wow," Was all I could say. Caleb shrugged.
"I would prefer Northwestern," Caleb sighed. "I love the violin more than math, and they have a killer program." He looked at me, and I saw sadness in his eyes. "My parents only see dollar signs."
"Have you told them?" I asked, more interested than someone who barely knew him should be.
"Yep," Caleb replied, nodding. I could see his parents dislike of the idea on his face. I didn't like the resignation.
"You know," I said, lightening my tone, "I don't think I have ever heard you play. I mean, I've heard the orchestra, but never just you."
"I'm playing on Saturday," Caleb said, "I've been invited by the Smooth Gliders." He looked at me with apprehension. "Well, their sax player, at least."
"You mean for money?" I asked. I didn't know he was that good.
"Not this time," Caleb smiled, "though I have done weddings and things." He was proud of his music. I could hear it in his voice.
"So, like, you just jam with them or something?"
"Sort of," Caleb replied, turning toward me, "Tom, the sax player, was a speaker at a music workshop I attended last year. He played something that really got to me." He smiled deeply. "You know, when a song just sort of grabs you?" I nodded knowing exactly what he meant. "Well, it was a work in progress, and Tom and I improvised on it instead of eating lunch." Caleb chuckled as he remembered. "It was like I knew where the tune was headed. Violin and sax are a really odd pair, but it worked. We've been trading emails every since."
"You're going to play it for an audience?"
"Sure," Caleb said, "music is for ears. The more, the better." I couldn't imagine getting on stage and performing for a crowd. Again, his confidence impressed me. "It's just a side piece, nothing headliner, but it will be fun to play with a professional."
"Wow," I said again. I had Caleb sorted beneath me on the social scale. Now I wondered if it was me below him. High school was ending, and the normal sorting was quickly disintegrating.
"If you'd like to hear," Caleb said, his voice weakening as he spoke, "I can get you a seat."
"Sure," I agreed, "I can promise at least one standing ovation." It had been a long time since my words had made someone outside my family happy. His face lit up, and he stood taller.
"Okay," Caleb said, "give me your number and I'll text the information when I get home." I was giving him my number when Gene walked out of the changing room.
"Damn," Samantha said too loudly. Gene's eyebrows raised at her word. He turned into a three paneled mirror.
"Damn," Gene repeated. He looked beyond handsome, even if the pants did need altering. It was a black two button jacket cut short at the hip. A shocking white shirt with point collars was held firm by a champagne bow tie. Between the shirt and jacket was a champagne four button vest. I don't think Gene ever looked so good.
"You, my man," Gene said to Caleb, "are my new best friend."
"It looks really good," I said. "Maybe you should dump Samantha."
"Shut your eyes girl," Samantha said, moving toward Gene quickly. "This one is mine." It was the first time I had ever seen Gene's cheeks color. "We are going to look so good together," Samantha continued as she brushed her hands along the jacket. Her happiness was contagious. I found a true smile for her as my idiotic jealousy finally took a backseat.
"I feel like 007," Gene said smiling.
"Get the pocket silk to match," Caleb said, moving forward.
"The what?" Gene asked.
"Handkerchief," Caleb clarified, "it sticks out of your pocket. You know, like 007." Gene laughed as Samantha nodded in agreement. It was another hour before Gene was measured and his tux, with pocket silk, was on order for the prom. Caleb left in the middle of it. I could sense that he thought he was pushing his welcome into our group. I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable, so I didn't dissuade him. I only reminded him to text me the details of his concert.
"You made a date with the math geek?" Samantha asked with surprise.
"Don't call him that," I said quickly. Maybe too quickly.
"Sorry."
"It's not a date," I clarified. "He's playing in a real band, so I told him I'd come and support him."
"Well, he does have that Beatles hair thing going on," Samantha laughed.
"Stop it," I said and laughed with her. It was true.
"The man has good taste in clothes," Gene said, sliding up next to us.
"He does have that," Samantha said, grabbing Gene's hand. "I thought he didn't know anything about tuxes."
"About as much as he knows about dunking basketballs," I said, hiding my smile.
"Well, I owe him," Gene said. "At least, I won't look like a dweeb at the prom."
"You'll be with me," Samantha bragged. "That alone will remove any dweebiness." I laughed louder than I should have.
Like clockwork, Zane called at the appointed time and begged another hour from me. I was in a good mood, so I acquiesced. It was nice to feel Mom and Dad's flash of approval at Zane's happiness. Sometimes, it wasn't a nuisance.