Reading Online Novel

Prom Nights from Hell(52)

 
«Oh yeah, you're totally like butter. In fact, in your Madonna-called-and-she-wants-her-costume-from-the-'Borderline'-video-back outfit, you're practically invisible.»
 
«Good one, Funkiller. Come on, let's go somewhere.»
 
Miranda turned all the way around in her seat and said, «Let me sound it out for you. Someone. Is. Trying. To. Kill. You.»
 
«No. They. Are. Not. You keep saying that, but I've told you. They can't kill me. You should really work on this obsession you have with people getting killed. And I have to be honest with you, I'm getting bored. What do you have the radio set to, K-CRAP? There is no way we are staying in this car for six hours.»
 
Miranda had to agree with her. Because if they did, it was now clear she'd kill Sibby herself.
 
That's when she thought of the perfect place for them to go.
 
«You want to blend in?» she asked.
 
«Yes. With boys.»
 
«Guys,» Miranda said.
 
«What?»
 
«Normal American girls from this century call them guys, not boys. If you want to blend in.»
 
For a second, Sibby looked shocked. Then she gave a little smile. «Oh. Yes. Guys.»
 
«'Yeah,' not 'yes.' Unless you're talking to a grown-up.»
 
«Yeah.»
 
«And it's 'Oh my God' or 'God,' not 'gods.'»
 
«Did I-?»
 
«Yeah. And no one ever has or ever will say, 'live in the mo.'»
 
«Just wait.»
 
«No. Never. Oh, and no paying guys for kisses. You don't need to. They should feel lucky to kiss you.»
 
Sibby frowned. «Why are you being so nice to me and helping me? You don't even like me.»
 
«Because I know what it's like to be far from home, alone, trying to fit in. And to never be able to tell anyone the truth about who you are.»
 
After they'd been driving in silence for a few minutes, Sibby said, «Have you ever killed someone with your bare hands?»
 
Miranda looked at her in the rearview. «Not yet.»
 
«Ha-ha.»
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter Eight
 
 
 
«You're crazy,» Sibby said as they walked in. Her eyes were pancake-size. «You said this would suck. This doesn't suck. This is fantastic.»
 
Miranda shuddered. They'd snuck into the Grand Hall of the Santa Barbara Historical Society by an emergency exit that had been propped open so prom attendees could slip out to get stoned, and glancing around, Miranda could see how getting stoned would be super-appealing. The walls of the room had been covered in blue satin with white stars embroidered on it, the four big columns in the middle were draped in red and white ribbons, the tables off to the side were covered in American flag-print cloths with fishbowl centerpieces in which the fish had been somehow dyed red and blue, and around the edges major American landmarks such as Mount Rushmore, the White House, the Statue of Liberty, the Liberty Bell, and the Old Faithful geyser had been reconstructed-out of sugar cubes. Courtesy of Ariel West's father. Ariel had announced the previous day at assembly that after the prom all the decorations would be donated to «the poor hungry people of Santa Barbara who need sugar.»
 
Miranda didn't know if it was that, the balloons on rubber cords hanging from the ceiling that bounced lazily up and down as people passed under them, or foreboding, but she had a distinct queasy feeling.
 
Sibby was in heaven.
 
«Remember-most of the guys here came with dates, so try to be subtle with the Kissing Bandit stuff,» Miranda said.
 
«Yeah, fine.»
 
«And if you hear me call to you, you come.»
 
«Do I look like a dog to you?» Miranda gave her a sharp glance. Sibby said, «Fine, okay, Funkiller.»
 
«And if you feel like anything weird is going on at all, you-«
 
«-let you know. I've got it. Now you go and have some fun yourself. Oh, right, you probably don't know how. Well, when in doubt, ask yourself, 'What Would Sibby Do?'»
 
«Can I unsubscribe from that list, please?»
 
Sibby was too busy scanning the room to respond.
 
«Whoa, who's that hot dinner in the corner over there?» she asked. «The guy in the glasses?»
 
Miranda looked around for a hot dinner but all she saw was Phil Emory. «His name is Phillip.»
 
«Helllllo, Phillip,» Sibby said, plotting a direct course for him.
 
Miranda stashed her skate bag underneath a table and stayed close to the wall, between the White House and Old Faithful, partially to keep Sibby in view and partially to avoid being noticed by any faculty members. She'd changed in the employee bathroom from her work suit into the only other thing she had with her, but although it was red, white, and blue, she didn't think that her Roller Derby uniform was really appropriate prom attire. There were two uniforms in her skate bag, a home uniform-white satin halter top and bottom with blue cape and red, white, and blue stripes on the skirt (if you could call something that was five inches long and required attached panties to be worn under it a skirt)-and an away uniform: the same thing, only in blue. She'd decided white was more formal, but she was pretty sure that wearing it with her black work flats was not helping the look.