Chapter One
“Psst…”
“Ugh.” I grunt in protest.
“Psst…Cantaloupe!” A finger pokes me in the side.
“Ugh-nuhhh!” I roll over as best as I can in the back seat, trying to get a few more minutes of sleep. My head rests uncomfortably on a pillow propped against the tinted windows. You’d think a person would be able to stretch out and actually sleep in a limo, but that would be assuming said person was not cursed with a hopelessly nerdy set of parents who insisted on a) taking her out of school for the weekend because her great-grandmother with Alzheimer’s was having a birthday party (despite the fact that she doesn’t actually know who any of us are and shouts, “Help! Thief! Help!” and threatens to call the police every time she sees my father, her son) and b) returning her to aforementioned school on the evening of their country club’s Halloween costume party, and c) electing to wear their costumes to the school so they wouldn’t have to go home and change before going to the party, and d) choosing to wear their trademark two-man horse suit as their costume.
“Cantaloupe!” I can feel Finn climb onto my lap. He pries my eyelids open with his little fingers.
“Are you awake?” He hisses loudly, staring into my forcibly opened eye.
“I am now,” I say, sitting up.
“What do you wa—” I stop as I see Finn’s nose, or, more specifically, what is shoved up it.
“Finn, what is that in your nose?”
“Nothing,” he says, turning away in a way that says that it is most definitely not “nothing”.
“Is that my ring?” I ask incredulously.
“No…” he says in a guilt-filled voice.
“Yes it is! And what is it doing in your nose?!” I exclaim. “Take it out this instant.”
“I’m sorry!” He cries, his fingers digging into his snout.
They reappear with my class ring, its shiny surface coated with a thin layer of mucus.
“Err, thanks,” I say, slipping it into my pocket as the gates to the school come into sight.
I check my watch as we pull to a stop in front of the doors. 6:57 p.m. I have exactly three minutes to get in, put down my stuff, and then get my parents out, before the entire junior class is dismissed from dinner. Easy right?
Except that, knowing my parents and their “love” for me, they will walk me inside, make a huge deal in the foyer about how big and lovely-looking the school is (as if they hadn’t seen it before when they both attended it decades ago), make a huge scene during which my mother will kiss me repeatedly and tell me she will miss me, and my father will attempt to make pleasant conversation with passing janitors about the weather and the loveliness of the school and the well-being of Norwegian yaks in Siberia or some such small talk (apparently the people of the Asian rug market care deeply about Norwegian yaks). Then while I shove my parents out the door my mother will finally blubber her last good-bye. Then my father will clap me on the shoulder, say “Sock it to ‘em Cantaloupe,” and shuffle awkwardly out the door with my mother in tow.
I jump out of the limo without waiting for the driver to open the door and am around back, fishing in the trunk for my suitcase before my parents have even gotten out of the car.
“Penelope, dear, what’s the big rush?” my mother says, struggling to get out of the car with her legs tangled in their horse-costume encasings.
My imagination is in over drive, giving me mental images of all my peers’ reactions when they see my parents dressed equine-style. None of the scenarios end well and they all involve either me falling or consuming large amounts of tapioca pudding.
“Nothing, Mom. I’m just hungry and wanted to get into dinner before it gets out.” Yes, yes, wonderful excuse! Now she will rush because what mother would allow their daughter to starve when something could be done to avoid such a catastrophe?
“How are you hungry?” comes my father’s voice from behind me, trying to keep up as I haul butt up the marble stairs. “We ate before we came and you put away three sandwiches.” Crap! I forgot about that. Was it really three sandwiches? That seems a bit excessive and makes me sound fat… Shut up, brain, shut up! Just focus on getting in and getting the parents out. I check my watch again. 6:58! And we’ve only just reached the second flight of stairs! It begins to rain as I hurry my parents, suitcase in tow.
It’s really only a drizzle, but it’s enough to seep into my clothes and chill me.
As we step into the huge entry hall, we are all dripping rain water onto the tile.
“Wow,” my mother exclaims, shivering a bit. “That chandelier is beautiful. Is it new?”
“No, Mother, it’s been there for the past 150 years. It was there when you came to school here.”
“Really?” She asks, still staring at the ceiling.
“Why don’t you two head off now? I’ll be fine. I love you,” I say, quickly hugging and kissing them both goodbye. I herd them towards the door, as my watch reads 6:59 pm. I glance nervously at the huge oak doors at the end of the hall where I can hear the muffled sound of 563 teenage voices, all waiting for 7 o’clock when they can head back to their rooms or the commons area.
Just when I think I might actually make it and I might actually be spared from public humiliation in the form of the entirety of my peers seeing my parents dressed like a horse, my mother slips and falls onto the tile.
My father bends over to offer her a hand up.
Suddenly, everything is happening at once. I hear the rip of fabric just as the grandfather clock in the hall begins to chime, and the voices become much louder as the giant oak doors open. I hear a great wave of gasps as 563 pairs of eyes take in my mother, dressed as a horse’s head end, splayed on the tile floor, and the sight of my father, dressed as a horse’s rear, bent over to help my mother up, now sporting a huge rip in the seat of his pants. After taking in the sight of my father’s newly exposed tighty-whiteys, their eyes move to me. A rippling giggling begins and I look down to see that my white pants have gone see-through with the rain, revealing my comfort panties—the ones with Scooby-Doo all over them. I try to casually fold my hands over my front to subtly hide as much Scooby-Doo as possible, but it’s too late. The damage is already done, I realize as the entire school breaks into thunderous laughter.
Really, the universe can be so cruel sometimes.
