The Miraculous Makeover of Lizard Flanagan (10 page)

I looked over at Zach, still dancing with Lisa. He'd rapped on my head hard, and I was still smarting from it.

What a crummy dance,
I thought. What a lousy idea, to have a Welcome to Truman Middle School dance.

Some welcome.

And here I was, standing behind the volleyball net.

I suddenly felt really angry, but not at the zombies out on the dance floor. I was steamed at
me.
What was I doing here?

I stepped out from behind the volleyball net and stalked out of the gym. Nobody called me back. Nobody came running after me.

No one even noticed I was gone.

11

“Why'd you leave the dance early?” Mary Ann asked.

She stood at my front door and stared at me through the screen.

“I got bored,” I said.

You should've danced,” Mary Ann said. “It was fun.”

“You mean by myself?” I said. “That would've been pretty dumb.”

“I would have danced with you,” Mary Ann said. “A lot of the girls were dancing with other girls.”

“Yeah, and they looked pathetic,” I said. “Besides, you were too busy dancing with Al Pickering.”

“Are you going to let me in or not?” Mary Ann asked.

“Sure.” I opened the screen door. “I have some homework stuff to do,” I said.

“On Saturday morning?”

“I like to get it out of the way.”

“Since when?”

I didn't answer.

“Lizard,” Mary Ann said, “I thought I'd do some shopping for clothes this afternoon. Do you want to come with me?”

“Heck, no. Why would I want to do that?”

“I just thought—well, you don't have to.” Mary Ann looked at me a moment without speaking. “See you later,” she finally said.

“Okay,” I said. Mary Ann turned to go. “Mary Ann?”

She turned back.

“Why do you think none of the guys asked me to dance?”

“Maybe they didn't know you wanted to dance,” she said.

“But I know most of them real well,” I said. “I play ball with them. Why didn't they even ask me?”

“I don't know,” Mary Ann said.

“Did you cut your hair so you'd be boy bait?”

“What?”

“Ginger Flush thinks you cut your hair to get boys interested in you.”

“I wanted to look nice,” Mary Ann said, “and I wanted boys to ask me to dance. But I cut my hair because I wanted to.”

“Good,” I said. “I don't want to cut my hair or do anything drastic like that. I just wish somebody—maybe Zach—would've asked me to dance.”

“Zach?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I don't know why he didn't ask me. I guess he was too busy thinking about Lisa. Do you think she's beautiful?”

“Yes,” Mary Ann said. “She's about as beautiful as a person can get.”

“But she's not very interesting.” I looked at Mary Ann. “Have you ever had the feeling your life is crazy and out of control?”

“What do you mean?”

“Everything around me is changing,” I said. I sat on the bottom stair in the foyer. “Everyone is turning into different people, and I can't stop them. I'm the only one who's the same as I was last year.” I fiddled with some strands of hair that I hadn't brushed yet today and looked at my toes. “I thought I wanted to stay exactly the same, but now I'm not so sure.”

Mary Ann started to say something, but I went on. “I was mean to Stinky yesterday. He left the dance before I did.” I rested my elbows on my knees. “Why did I tease him like that?”

“I don't know.”

“I'll call him this morning—tell him I'm sorry.”

Mary Ann rested her foot on the bottom stair next to me. “I think you'd look nice in a skirt,” she said.

I wrinkled my nose. “A
skirt?
”

“Do you want to try one on? Just for fun?”

“What would be fun about trying on a skirt?” She didn't say anything. “Where?”

“Where do you like to get your clothes?”

“The Gap,” I said. “Or Sears.”

“Great,” Mary Ann said. “You want to go to the Gap and look for a denim skirt?”

“No.”

“You'd look good in it. And denim is comfortable.”

“Well …” I guessed it wouldn't hurt to look. “I don't want to do anything drastic.”

“Just because you try on a skirt doesn't mean you're going to turn into Ginger Flush.”

“Or Lisa St. George,” I said. “She's such a dud. Why would a guy like Zach be interested in her?”

“Probably because she's so pretty.”

“But she's not fun or funny—and she doesn't know zilch about sports and is the most unathletic person you'd ever meet in your life!”

“I know.”

“It just doesn't make any sense,” I said.

“Let's go to the Gap this afternoon,” Mary Ann suggested. “We'll find a denim skirt for you.”

“Well—I have some money saved from my allowance. But I'm not planning on buying anything. And I won't even
look
at panty hose!”

“Sure.” She grinned. “No tights.”

“This is cute.” Mary Ann stopped and looked at the denim skirt on the mannequin. “You like it?”

“It's okay, I guess,” I said. “For a skirt. It'd look nicer if it was a pair of jeans.”

“May I help you?”

We turned around and saw the saleslady behind us. She blinked behind thick glasses and looked from me to Mary Ann and back at me again.

“Can we see the denim skirt?” Mary Ann asked, pointing to the mannequin.

The woman nodded. “They're over here.”

We followed her as she threaded her way around the racks of clothes. We stopped at a rack of denim skirts. The woman pawed through some skirts on hangers.

“This looks like your size,” she said, sweeping a skirt off the rack. She held it up as if she were doing a commercial for denim skirts. “This
is
cute.”

“You want to try it on, Lizard?” Mary Ann asked.

I shrugged.

“We'll try it on,” Mary Ann told the saleslady.

She took the skirt and led me to the dressing rooms.

“I don't want to buy it,” I said.

“You don't have to,” she said. “Just try it on. It's comfortable and you'll like it.”

I sighed loudly, took the skirt from her, walked into the dressing room, and closed the swinging door.

“Show me when you've got it on,” she said.

“Okay.”

I took off my shorts and then pulled on the skirt. It didn't look too bad.

“I heard the zip,” Mary Ann called. “Let me see.”

I opened the door.

She smiled. “That's really cute. How does it feel?”

“Weird.”

“How come?”

“It's kind of breezy on my legs,” I said.

“I know what you mean. You're just not used to it. But it looks good.”

I turned back to the mirror. “Do you think Zach would've asked me to dance if I'd worn this thing?”

“I don't know. But it really looks nice.”

“I don't hate it as much as I thought I would.” I could only admit that to Mary Ann. She wouldn't tease me.

“How much is it?” Mary Ann asked.

I looked at the tag and showed it to her. “I have that much, plus a couple of bucks left over.”

“Why don't you get it?”

I looked at myself again in the mirror. I'd only have to wear it for school dances. The rest of the time it could hang in the back of my closet.

“Okay,” I said.

“Good.”

I changed back into my shorts and we found the saleslady with the thick glasses.

“We'll take it,” Mary Ann said.

The woman took the skirt to the register.

“I'll be right back,” Mary Ann said. She disappeared between some clothes racks.

I put my money on the counter.

Mary Ann reappeared and pushed a small package over the counter. “She'll take this, too.”

I looked at what she'd handed the woman.

“
I don't want panty hose!
” I said.

“They're
tights,
Lizard. Just one pair.”

“I don't want them!”

“You didn't think you wanted the skirt, either, till you put it on,” Mary Ann said.

“No.”

“I dare you. You're afraid to take them home.”

“Why would I be afraid—”

“Do you want them or not?” asked the saleslady.

“What are you, a chicken?” Mary Ann demanded.

“Okay, okay, I'll take them!”

The woman said, “That'll be another three-oh-nine.”

I scowled at Mary Ann and shelled out the money. We walked away from the store, the bag under my arm.

“Thanks a lot,” I said. She giggled. “What's so funny?”

“You,” she said. “All I had to do was call you a chicken! It was so easy!”

12

I stood in my room wearing nothing but my underwear and stared at the denim skirt hanging in my closet.

Why did I promise Mary Ann that I'd wear it?

“Lizard,” Mom called out from the bottom of the stairs. “Better hurry on down to breakfast.”

I looked at the clock on my nightstand. I was late!

“Okay,” I yelled. “I'll be down in a minute.” I went to my drawer and pulled out my favorite pair of shorts.

Then I heard Mary Ann's voice in my head. “I'll wear my denim skirt and tights on Monday, too,” she'd said. “My skirt looks almost like yours.”

I dropped the shorts back into the drawer. I couldn't go back on my word to Mary Ann. I'd promised I'd wear the skirt and those ridiculous panty hose.

“Do it!” I ordered myself in the mirror over my dresser. “What are you, a
chicken?
”

I took the package out of my drawer, opened it, and pulled out the panty hose.

“Which side is the front?”

I turned them around and around. I couldn't tell, so I decided maybe it didn't matter.

I sat on the bed and wadded up one leg the way I'd seen my mother do. Then I put my toe in and pulled the hose partway up my leg. Then I did the same on the other leg.

I stood up and grabbed the waistband of the hose and pulled. The top came up partway, but bunches of the legs were still in folds around my knees.

“How the heck do you get these on?”

I grabbed the box the hose had come in and looked at every side of it.
There weren't any directions on how to put them on!

I pulled the panty hose down partway and tried wadding the top part the way I had the legs. It wasn't easy, but with some wiggling, I finally got them on.

They looked okay but they felt horrible: itchy and kind of clingy and tight.

Then I put on the skirt and a fairly new shirt.

I was ready. Now all I had to do was go to school. I wondered what Zach would say. He'd sure be surprised!

Halfway down the stairs, I stopped.

What was my family going to think? I hadn't worn a skirt since— I tried to think back, but I couldn't remember the last time I'd had one on.

I walked down the rest of the stairs, trying to be very casual, and strolled into the kitchen. I was dying to scratch my legs. How did Mary Ann stand these things?

Mom was standing at the counter pouring a cup of coffee, and Sam and Dad were at the table.

“Morning, honey,” Mom said without turning around.

“Morning.”

I walked to my place at the table.

Sam looked up and froze for a second, his cereal spoon hanging in midair. His face thawed out in the next second.

“Man, oh man, oh man!” he shouted.

“What?” Mom turned from the counter. Dad looked up from his orange juice.

“Look at Lizard!” Sam said. “A dress!” He hooted and laughed.

My face became really hot. I pretended I didn't care about what he'd said, but I suddenly hated him and wanted to punch his face in.

“That just shows what an idiot you are,” I snapped. “This isn't a dress, it's a skirt.”

“Lizard's wearing a skirt!” Sam hooted again. “Now I've seen everything!”

My mother looked very surprised. “Honey, when did you get it?”

“Saturday!” I yelled. “Why? Is there something wrong with me wearing a skirt?”

“Well, no,” Mom said. “It's just so—out of character for you.”

Dad didn't say anything. He just stared at me.

“Call the Channel Nine news team,” Sam said, grinning. “They'll want to get this on film.”

“What's the matter with you people?” I knew I was screeching, but it was better than crying, and I was afraid I might do something that stupid. “Is it a crime for me to wear something else for a change?”

I didn't give them time to answer. I turned around and ran back upstairs to my room and slammed the door. I pulled off my clothes and threw them on the floor, then put on the shorts that I should have worn in the first place!

“You didn't wear your new skirt,” Mary Ann said, standing on the bridge. She was wearing hers.

“I hate it!” I said, stomping past her. “Come on, let's go. We're late.”

“But what happened?” she asked, hurrying to catch up. “Why didn't you call and tell me?”

“It was too late,” I said. “You wouldn't have had time to change into shorts anyway.”

“But Lizard—”

I kept walking. “I'm not in the mood to talk about it, okay? If that's what it takes to get a boy to ask me to dance, well, I just won't go to those dances. It was a stupid dance, anyway. But I don't want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Mary Ann said.

“And those
panty hose
! They're impossible to get on, and they feel terrible!”

“I know, but—”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“But you keep talking about it anyway!” Mary Ann said.