Trevor’s behavior was definitely odd. But then again, so was Winnie McKinney’s. Ever since the Winter Formal came up, she’d been impossible to talk to. At least to talk to like a regular person. So, when I saw her in the hall, I decided to change my approach.
“How’s that Winter Formal coming along?”
Wendell had given me some advice about prombies: if you want to get on their good side, pretend you care about what they’re doing.
“Oh, it’s wonderful!” she chimed, as if I’d flipped on some secret happy-switch. “We’ve got a photographer, and she’s got this big arch that looks like it’s made out of ice. We’re all going to have our pictures taken under it! And then G-Force says he can set up these lights that . . . Oh, sorry. I forgot you don’t care about stuff like that.”
“No, no, I do!” I lied. “It sounds interesting. Especially that stuff about Gerald. I really want to see what he comes up with because, you know, he’s . . . an electronics genius.”
I almost had to spit to get the terrible taste out of my mouth. Meanwhile, Winnie studied me.
“So,” she said cautiously, “what are you saying? That you want to come to the formal?”
“Oh . . . I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it.”
It was the wrong thing to say. In Prombie Land, no one thinks about anything except the formal.
“I’m not going to force you to come, you know,” Winnie said, her voice getting chillier by the second.
“I didn’t say you were.”
“I was just checking, because you sounded like you wanted to come now. But if you don’t — ”
“That’s not what I said!” I interrupted.
Winnie sighed. All the glitter and fanciness seemed to be wearing her down, and I had the strangest feeling she’d be glad when it was over.
“I’m sorry, Howard. I don’t mean to get all . . . psycho,” she said. “Look, I know you think the Winter Formal is dumb, and maybe it is, and maybe I’m dumb for caring so much about it, but I do. It’s just when I think of the decorations and the music and everybody all dressed up, it seems like it’s going to make a real nice memory. And those are things you keep forever. I don’t want to miss out on that, Howard. Does that make any sense?”
You know something? It sort of did. Which is probably the reason I said something really, really stupid.
“Winnie, can I come to the Winter Formal?”
Instantly, I wanted to cut out my tongue and stomp on it.
“Of course you can! I’ll sign you up!” she said. Her eyes were the size of dessert plates. “It’s going to be amazing, isn’t it? I can hardly wait!”
“Me neither!” My fake smile was starting to get shaky.
“Great!” Winnie said. “Maybe I’ll save you a dance.”
“A dance?”
“Right. I mean, unless you don’t want . . .”
“No, I do. I do want,” I said. My face felt so hot, I thought it might burst into flames.
“Awesome.”
She smiled. It was that classic Winnie McKinney smile, the one that scrunched up her nose and took up the whole bottom half of her face. I’d really missed that smile.
Then she glided down the hall to go do whatever it is prombies do. As for me, I headed on home wondering if there was a painless way to break both my legs.