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Prom Nights from Hell(43)

 
«You're going to need to be in therapy that long anyway to deal with your messed-up family. I'm just giving you some TTD material to talk about.» Kenzi knew more about Miranda's family history than anyone else at Chatsworth, almost all of it fabricated. The part about it being messed up, though, was true.
 
Kenzi also really liked acronyms and invented new ones all the time. As she dropped her bag and collapsed on her bed, Miranda asked, «TTD?»
 
«Totally Top Drawer.» Then Kenzi said, «I can't believe you're not coming to prom. I always pictured us going together.»
 
«I don't think Beth would like that too much. You know, being the third wheel.»
 
Beth was Kenzi's girlfriend. «Don't even talk to me about that creature,» she said now, giving a fake shudder. «The Beth and Kenzi Show is officially canceled.»
 
«As of when?»
 
«What time is it?»
 
«Three thirty-five.»
 
«Two hours and six minutes ago.»
 
«Oh, so it'll be back on by prom.»
 
«Of course.»
 
Kenzi's «cancellations» happened about once a week and never lasted more than four hours. She thought the drama of breakups and the thrill of reconciliation kept a relationship fresh. And in some weird way it seemed to work, because she and Beth were the happiest couple Miranda knew. More perfection.
 
«Anyway, stop trying to change the subject. I think you're making a grave mistake by missing prom.»
 
«Yeah, I'm sure I'll never forgive myself.»
 
«I'm serious.»
 
«Why? What's the big deal? It's a big dance with a dorky theme. You know I'm dancelexic and should not be allowed out on a dance floor near other people.»
 
«A Sweet Salute to the Red, White, and Blue isn't dorky, it's patriotic. And you do okay with the Hustle.»
 
«I think Libby Geer would disagree with you. If her mouth weren't still wired shut.»
 
«Whatever, prom isn't just a big dance. It's a rite of passage, a moment when we move from who we were into the vastness of the adults we're going to become, throwing off the weight of our youthful insecurities to-«
 
«-get drunk and maybe lucky. Depending on your definition of luck.»
 
«You'll be sorry if you don't come. Do you really want to grow up miserable and filled with regret?»
 
«Yes, please! Besides, I have to work.»
 
«TGI as If. You're hiding behind your job again. You could so get one Saturday off. At least be honest about why you're not going.»
 
Miranda gave Kenzi Innocent Eyes, expression number two from the kissing book. «I don't know what you mean.»
 
«Don't look at me like you're My Little Pony. I have four letters for you: W-I-L-L.»
 
«And I have four letters for you: N-O-P-E. Oh and four more: M-Y-O-«
 
But Kenzi just went on, ignoring her, something she did professionally. «It's true that Will might need to be vaccinated or screened for diseases after going with Ariel, but I can't believe you're giving up that easily.»
 
Will Javelin filled up about 98 percent of Miranda's dreams. She'd been trying to cut it out since she learned he was going to the prom with Ariel-«I named my new breasts after my family's country houses, does your family have any country houses, Miranda? Oh right, I forgot, you're a foster child»-West, of the West-Sugar-Is-Best! fortune, but it was a challenge. To avoid bad karma Miranda said, «There's nothing wrong with Ariel.»
 
«Yeah, nothing that couldn't be cured with an exorcism.» Kenzi came out of her headstand, planting her feet on the floor. She reached for her towel. «At least promise you'll come to the after-party. At Sean's parents' place on the beach? You will, right? We're all going to hang around and watch the sun rise. It will give you a chance to talk to Will outside of school. And when are you going to tell me what happened between you two that other night, anyway? Why are you being so MLAS about it?»
 
Miranda knew that one. «I'm not being My Lips Are Sealed,» she said, picking up a pile of papers on the bookshelf between her and Kenzi's beds and straightening them.
 
«You're doing that thing again. The thing where you pretend to be Holly Homemaker to avoid having a discussion.»
 
«Maybe.» Miranda was looking at the papers now, photocopies of newspaper articles from the past half year. «Purse snatcher caught by mysterious Good Samaritan, found bound to fence with yo-yo,» the first and most recent said. Then, from a few months before, «Get a grip: Stickup foiled when robber loses control of gun. Witness says Pez dispenser 'came out of nowhere' to knock weapon from assailant's hand.» Finally, from seven months earlier, «Convenience store heist getaway halted by falling lightpost; two arrested.» She started to get a sinking feeling in her stomach.