Fat Hoochie Prom Queen by Nico Medina

Author:Nico Medina
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing
Published: 2008-09-03T04:00:00+00:00

“Here—Jonathan’s car,” Laura said, clicking a set of car keys and unlocking the doors of a Nissan in the distance. “He upgraded, thankGod , from thatbeast of a Volvo he used to drive. That thing was an embarrassment.”

Huh. I also remembered Laura being kinda snobbish. Guess not too much changes from high school to college.

We walked through the filled-up parking lot to the car. When we got to it, Laura opened up a back door and waited for me to get in.

“The backseat?” I asked, laughing. “What, are we makin’ out or something?”

“Not unless you want to,” she said cheekily. “No, I just don’t think we should be sitting in the front of the car while we’re suspiciously drinking out of Gatorade bottles at twelve thirty at night.”

“Point taken.” I took a look around us, saw no signs of authority (except the fact that it appeared Jonathan had parked in City Hall’s lot), and ducked into the car. Laura followed.

We settled into the Nissan’s cozy rear, ducking down as far as we could without actually lyinghorizontally on our seats. Oh, the joys of underage drinking. Laura reached under the driver’s seat and produced two Gatorade bottles.

“Vodka with Lemon-Lime…or vodka with”—she looked closely at the label in the dark—“Frost?”

“Lemon-Lime somehow seems safer,” I said, and she handed it to me.

“Here’s to awkward conversations to come,” she said, holding up her bottle of blue liquid in a toast.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I clinked plastic bottles with her. “Right,” I said.

We took a sip from our drinks—mine was a little nasty, but it would do for a few swigs—and sighed simultaneously. It seemed almost rehearsed.

“So, fire away, Margarita,” Laura said, turning to look at me in the dark as she sipped from her bottle. “Tell me about this prom-queen wisdom you seek.”

I was still a little stoned, so this actually sounded pretty deep to me. I searched within myself,deep within my deep-thinking self, and came up with…

Nothing.

“Margarita?”

“Just call me ‘Madge’—it has less syllables.”

“Sure, okay…So?Madge? ” She poked me.

“Huh?”

“Jonathan told me all about this crazy prom-queen thing you’ve got going on. So, do you mind if I ask…I dunno…why you care?”

“You’re not offended by it or anything, are you?” I asked her. “Y’know, since youwere prom queen and all.”

“Madge? Truly? Icouldn’t care less.”

“Wait…Really?” I’d sort of had her pegged as someone whowould care. I mean, shewas Top Bitch of Winter Park last year and was all sorts of popular and powerful. It just seemed like a natural fit.

“Last year was weird for me, Madge. I was just over all that bullshit by the time prom rolled around. It’s not like Iasked to be elected prom queen. It just sort of happened. And I wasn’t about to go onstage and be, like, ‘No thanks, because I’m beyond all this.’”

“No way!” I cried. “That’s kind of howI feel about it.”

“Yeah? Then why are you here talking to me? Why do what you’re doing in the first place?”

“Didn’t Jonathan tell you? She freakin’dishonored me, dude! Plus, shedared me.

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