Don't Bet On Love Page 7

  “Yeah, and I’m sure they aren’t purely social,” Jan agreed. “Have you ever talked to Colette about Gary?”

  “Well, a few weeks ago I did tell her that he was a good algebra tutor,” I said thoughtfully, “but that was all.”

  “Algebra?” Jan echoed, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “When I saw her in the hall with Gary right before last period, algebra was the last thing on that girl’s mind!”

  As if on cue, Colette entered the cafeteria, clinging possessively to Gary’s arm.

  “So what are you going to do about it, Molly?” asked Beth.

  Unable to tear my eyes away from Gary and Colette, I watched as they took their places in the cafeteria line. “What can I do?” I asked sadly. “It’s what I trained him for.”

  “She meant the party,” Jan said, giving me a knowing look. “You have got it bad, haven’t you?”

  I nodded. There was no point in trying to deny what Jan and Beth already knew.

  “What about it, Molly?” Beth asked. “Are you going or not?”

  “Definitely not,” I said.

  “Gary might feel more comfortable if some of his old friends were there,” Beth suggested. “I mean, he doesn’t know Colette’s crowd all that well.”

  Across the cafeteria, Gary held a chair for Colette. She gave him a megawatt smile as she sat down, then quickly scooted her chair closer to his.

  “I don’t think he’ll have much opportunity to be lonely,” I said with a sigh.

  “Well, hey!” Jan put in brightly. “Who needs Colette and her old party, anyway? Let’s all do something together this weekend!”

  “Great idea!” Beth agreed. “Where should we go?”

  “Where else? The mall!” Jan said. “We can go shopping for prom dresses!”

  “Oh, nice going, Jan!” Beth scolded with uncharacteristic sarcasm. “That’s just what Molly needs to make her feel better!”

  “It’s okay,” I said, smiling in spite of the heaviness in my heart. “I’d love to go with you to pick out your gowns. Friday night, or Saturday?”

  Beth voted for Saturday, so I wouldn’t sit at home brooding all day, but since Jan had a date that afternoon, we settled for Friday. Actually, I had no real desire to go anywhere, especially shopping for prom dresses. Beth was right—it reminded me too much of Gary and Colette, and of Mark’s bet, which was looking more like a winner all the time. In fact, I thought wryly, probably the only people who could even come close to understanding the way I felt were Eddie and Steve, each of whom would most likely be ten dollars poorer by prom night.

  But I knew Beth and Jan meant well, so on Friday night I pasted on a cheerful smile and crawled into the backseat of Beth’s battered VW. As we rode to the mall, Jan chattered away, predicting that I would meet a handsome stranger that very night, a guy who would never fall down the stairs, trip over his own feet, or botch the simplest comments about the weather, and who would never ever forget his wallet and land himself and his date in Jail. But Jan’s fictional dreamboat held no appeal for me at all.

  Once inside the mall, the three of us wandered from store to store, alternately admiring and criticizing the dresses we found. Then, as we approached the fountain at the center of the mall, Beth spotted a peacock-blue formal in one of the shop windows.

  “That’s it!” she cried, pointing at the dress. “The prom dress of my dreams!”

  “In Lundquist’s?” Jan asked skeptically. “Isn’t that a little rich for your blood, not to mention your pocketbook?”

  “Probably,” Beth admitted. “But I’ll have only one junior prom, you know. At least let’s see how much it costs!”

  “You go ahead,” Jan said, sitting down on the low wall surrounding the fountain. “I’m going to wait here and rest my tired feet.”

  “Tired feet, huh?” Beth echoed skeptically, eyeing a group of boys who had just seated themselves on the other side of the fountain. “What about you, Molly? Do you want to come with me, or do you suddenly have tired feet, too?”

  “Sure, I’ll come,” I said without much enthusiasm, and followed Beth into the shop.

  Of course, once we were inside, one thing led to another. Discovering that the dress was twenty-five percent off only made Beth determined to find out if they had it in her size. And when the saleslady brought out one in size seven, nothing would satisfy Beth but to try it on. I waited patiently outside the dressing room, watching in amusement as various articles of Beth’s clothing were flung over the door of the cubicle.

  At last the door opened, and Beth stuck her head out.

  “Molly, can you come here a minute? I want your opinion.”

  I joined her, and Beth shut the door behind me.

  “Well, what do you think?” she asked, striking a pose.

  It was hard for me to get very excited about anything concerning the prom, but there was no denying that the dress could have been designed with Beth in mind.

  “I think you look terrific in it,” I said, and meant it.

  “I don’t know,” Beth said, critically studying her reflection in the mirror. “I think it looked better on the mannequin.”

  “That’s because the mannequin is six feet tall and wears a size five,” I said. “Beth, trust me. You look great! That shade really brings out the blue of your eyes, and—”

  I had been about to tell her that the dress made her tiny waist look even tinier, but something made me pause in mid-sentence. The dressing room door shook slightly as someone entered the cubicle next to ours. Then the sound of a girl’s voice came floating over the dividing wall.

  “Colette, this must be the fourth dress you’ve tried on tonight,” the voice complained.

  “Fifth,” a second voice corrected her friend. This one I recognized. It belonged to Colette Carroll. I glanced at Beth and raised one finger to my lips.

  “Why so picky?” the first girl asked. “Does this mean you have a prom date you haven’t told me about?”

  “Oh, I’ve got a date, all right,” Colette said confidently. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”

  “You mean Gary still hasn’t asked you?” A wild hope that he might have changed his mind died with the other girl’s next words. “But everybody knows he’s crazy about you. What’s taking him so long?”

  “Bashfulness,” Colette answered. “It was cute for a while, but it’s beginning to get old. He’ll ask me tomorrow night, though. I’ll see to that!”

  “How?”

  “I invited a girl named Molly McKenzie to my party. She’s a friend of Gary’s, and unless I miss my guess, a while ago she tried to get the two of us together. At the time I thought she must be nuts, but now I think she might be a useful ally to have.” I heard a rustling sound—Colette taking off a gown. “No, I don’t think I like this dress, either, Lauren. It’s just not me. Let’s go look somewhere else.”

  I could hear the unseen Lauren grumbling, and a moment later the door creaked open and shut again. Then there was no sound but the canned music playing over the PA system.

  So that explained why Colette had invited me to her party! Gary wasn’t moving fast enough for her, and she expected me to give him a shove in her direction. Well, maybe I would go to her party after all, but I wouldn’t be the “useful ally” Colette was hoping for. I wasn’t giving my Gary to her on a silver platter, no way!

  “Beth,” I said impulsively, “do you mind if we have another look at that sale rack? I just had a sudden urge to buy a party dress.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Because Mom had taken my car keys, I had to ask Mark to give me a ride to Colette’s house. To my surprise, he didn’t object. In fact, he seemed glad—even eager—to oblige.

  “I have a gut feeling about this party, Moll,” he told me happily as he drove down the winding roads of Windsor Heights, the expensive subdivision where Colette lived. “Something good is going to happen tonight, I just know it! That money is as good as mine!”

  Since I had my own plans for the party, I didn’
t bother to disillusion him. Instead, I flipped down the visor mirror and gave my appearance one final inspection. I’d done my hair up in a new style and fastened it with pink silk roses to match my dress. I had to admit. I was rather pleased with the result. It made me look almost glamorous, if you didn’t count the light scattering of freckles across my nose. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do about them. I’d discovered years ago that lemon juice really didn’t work, and slathering on heavy makeup only made me look like a clown.

  And I certainly don't have anything to be ashamed of in the wardrobe department, I thought, glancing down at my dress. I’d found it on the sale rack at Lundquist’s, a pale pink creation with a ruffle over one shoulder, a dropped waist, and a short skirt made of three tiers of ruffles. Even at twenty-five percent off, it had cost me my last dime, and once again I’d had to borrow, this time from Beth. She was enough of a romantic to consider it a sound investment, which, in a way, it was. If the dress would help me rescue Gary from Colette’s clutches, it would be worth every penny I owed Beth.

  Satisfied, I snapped the visor back up just as Mark slowed down in front of a brightly lit colonial-style house with four white columns across the front.

  “Well, here we are,” he said, wheeling the car into Colette’s already crowded driveway. “Even though you’ve wimped out on our deal, just keep an eye on Gary for me, okay?”

  “Don’t worry,” I said emphatically. “I will!”

  I got out of the car and walked up the lighted path to the house, where a rather intimidating woman met me at the front door. I had never met Colette’s mother before, but I recognized her instantly. The tall, slender figure, the dark hair and strikingly beautiful features, the slightly haughty manner—they were Colette all over again.

  “You’ll find Colette’s friends out by the pool,” Mrs. Carroll said as if she knew instinctively that I was no friend of Colette’s. “Just go straight down the center hall and out the French doors.”

  Obediently, I followed her directions, glancing through open doorways at rooms that made me think of the home decorating magazines Mom sometimes read. When I reached the French doors leading out onto the terrace, I hesitated. The confidence I had felt earlier was beginning to evaporate.

  Colette had certainly gone all out on this party. Since the April evening was still too cool for swimming, the pool was covered with flower-shaped candles bobbing on the surface of the water. A string of Japanese lanterns illuminated two refreshment tables set up at one end of the terrace, where a large group of kids had already gathered around to sample the goodies. There were plenty of faces I recognized, but I didn’t see a single person I knew well enough to start a conversation with—there was no sign of Colette, or of Gary, either. I stood there in the doorway, feeling awkward and alone, not knowing what to do next.

  Instant wallflower, I thought, glancing down at the sparkling surface of the pool. Just add water and stir.

  At that moment I heard a masculine voice calling my name.

  “Molly! Molly McKenzie!”

  I turned toward the sound, and saw Steve separate himself from a group of kids and start walking in my direction.

  I hurried to meet him. “Steve!” I exclaimed, relieved to see a really familiar face. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be out with Liz.”

  “She’s away for the weekend,” he explained. “But Mark seemed to think that this would be Gary’s big night, so when Colette invited me, I decided I’d better protect my investment. I figure when it looks like Gary’s about to ask her to the prom, I can push them both into the pool!”

  I smiled at his joke, then asked anxiously, “Did Gary say he’s going to ask her tonight?”

  Steve shrugged. “Not in so many words. To tell you the truth, Gary doesn’t seem to want to talk about it at all, and I don’t know why. I mean, Colette is his for the asking. Why, just yesterday she—” Steve broke off abruptly, his eyes fixed on some point behind me. “Well, get a load of that!”

  I turned to follow his gaze, and saw Gary and Colette framed in the doorway. Gary wore a pale turquoise sport coat, a white open-neck shirt, and dark trousers. I couldn’t help noticing how the color of the jacket brought out the red highlights in his hair.

  But it was Colette, clinging tightly to his arm, who riveted my attention. She was wearing a clingy silver tunic over black spandex leggings that hugged her slender legs so closely, I was sure she must have been melted and poured into them. In comparison, my pink ruffled dress seemed dowdy and childish. Colette’s dark hair was coiled into a topknot high on her head, revealing silver earrings that dangled almost to her shoulders. All my fighting spirit faded away at the sight of her. How could a pug-nosed, freckle-faced blonde possibly compete with that?

  “That sound you hear is me kissing my ten dollars good-bye,” Steve muttered glumly. “Do you want something to eat? The mob around the refreshment tables is beginning to thin out.”

  Sure enough, most of the kids had left the food and were now gathering around Colette and Gary. Silently, I followed Steve around the edge of the swimming pool to the refreshment tables at the other end of the terrace. I wasn’t at all hungry, but anything was better than standing there and watching Colette and her crowd fawn over the very same boy they’d ignored only two weeks earlier.

  Although I didn’t want to look, my eyes kept swiveling back to Gary as if they had a will of their own. I was too far away to get a really good look, but there was something about the way he was standing beside Colette with his hands dug into his pants pockets that told me something was wrong.

  Impulsively I turned to Steve. “What do you think is the matter with Gary?” I whispered.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, dipping a com chip into the bowl of salsa. “He looks okay to me.”

  “He seems—” I paused, searching for the right word. “Uncomfortable,” I said at last.

  “Oh, you know how Gary is. He’s probably just bashful. Gary’s still not used to being the center of attention. Pretty soon he’ll loosen up and start enjoying himself.”

  Steve’s explanation sounded reasonable enough, but I wasn’t convinced. “No, it’s more than that. Gary looks miserable.”

  “Well, whatever’s wrong with him, Colette will fix it,” Steve assured me. “Hey, have you tried these cheese straws? They’re pretty good.”

  I let the subject drop, but while I mingled, talked, and even danced a little, I continued to keep an eye on Gary and Colette. They were pretty painful to watch. I saw Colette reaching up to pop a frosted grape into Gary’s mouth; Colette perched on Gary’s lap, whispering what were probably sweet nothings in his ear, Colette and Gary wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying slowly to the music blaring from the stereo. Worst of all, I saw Colette lead Gary to a dark corner, where she reached up to draw his head down to hers.

  I decided that if Gary was unhappy, it was only because he was impatient for all of us to go home so he could be alone with Colette. Suddenly the night air felt chilly and damp, the music was much too loud, and I had a splitting headache.

  Glancing at my watch, I saw to my dismay that it was only nine o’clock. Mark wouldn’t be coming to pick me up until eleven. I wasn’t at all sure I could stand two more hours of this nightmare.

  I pushed my way through the crowd back to the French doors, wanting to get away from everybody, if only for a minute or two. Once inside the house, I entered the first room I came to, a library, and closed the door behind me.

  I hadn’t been there very long when I heard the door open with a faint creak. Turning to see who had come in, I found myself face-to-face with Gary.

  He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him. “Oh, hi, Molly,” he said.

  Gary looked just as good up close as he had from a distance. But his tie was loosened and a telltale smudge of lipstick stained the comer of his mouth. Unable to bear the sight, I averted my eyes. “Hi” was all I could trust myself to say.

  There was a long, awkwar
d silence. Finally Gary spoke again. “Some party, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah!” I agreed with an enthusiasm that sounded strained, even to my own ears. “Colette never does anything halfway,” I added, then blushed as I remembered the proof of Colette’s thoroughness stamped on Gary’s mouth.

  After another long pause Gary said, “So, I haven’t seen you in a while, Molly. How’ve you been lately?”

  “Oh, just fine,” I replied brightly. Still trying to avoid looking directly at him, I lowered my gaze to the floor. That’s when I noticed the shiny black leather shoes he wore. “You—you got wing tips,” I said.

  Gary shifted his weight from one large foot to the other, as if his new shoes were a little too tight. “Yeah, well, I figured I’d need them. You know, with the prom and all.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Uh—you look really nice tonight, Molly,” he said. Was it my imagination, or did Gary seem reluctant to go back to the party?

  “Thanks,” I murmured. “You look nice, too. But—uh—Gary…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Your—your lipstick is smudged.”

  “My what?” Suddenly Gary’s face turned beet red. “Oh, wow!” He took a handkerchief from the inside pocket of his jacket and began to rub at his mouth, but without much success. “Did I get it?”

  I shook my head.

  “Would you mind?” Gary asked, offering me the handkerchief.

  I took it and reached up, dabbing timidly at the corner of his mouth. I hadn’t been so close to him since the day of our dancing lesson, and now all those strange sensations I’d felt came flooding back. What would happen if I put my arms around Gary’s neck and drew his head down to mine, the way I'd seen Colette do earlier that evening?

  I quickly backed away before I did anything stupid. “There,” I said. “That did it.”

  “Thanks.” As Gary returned the handkerchief to his pocket, we heard the opening bars of “No One in the World Like You” coming from the stereo outside. “So, Molly, do you want to dance or something?”