Prom by Laurie Halse Anderson

felony theft.
    The room was quiet. This guy didn’t look so stupid anymore.
    “But really, you played them,” I said.
    He just smiled.

67.
    Nat and I were supposed to have a mini-meeting at lunch. Gilroy changed my plans by nabbing me as soon as I stepped into the cafeteria. I had to spend the whole lunch period listening to him blah, blah, blah about “accountability.”
    If I wanted to be an accountant, I would have taken that class in tenth grade. But I didn’t say that.
    He said I forced my way on the prom committee just to make him look bad, that I was kissing Banks’s butt to spite him. He said he hadn’t forgotten who my “so-called boyfriend” was, and he knew the kind of kid I really was. Gilroy was the one who caused TJ to drop out.
    I had to laugh. I didn’t know the kind of kid I was anymore. This guy didn’t know me for shit.
    He yelled at me when I laughed. Then he blah blahed some more, this time about “respect.” A bubble of spit foamed up in the left corner of his mouth. The rest of his mouth was dry and flaky. Didn’t he ever hear of ChapStick? Poor Mrs. Gilroy, having to kiss those alligator skin lips.
    He asked if I had anything to say for myself.
    I told him that I was six weeks away from graduation, and I was going to make it no matter how many illegal detentions he threw at me. I told him I had permission from the principal to help my best friend get her prom. And I asked him if I could go, because Nat had scheduled a meeting for me to attend.
    That earned me lecture number two on “respect.” The bubble of spit grew into a gob. I had better show up for every detention, turn in all homework on time, and keep my nose clean, because he was giving me “no wiggle room, not a damn inch.” The gob dripped down his chin, and he wiped it away with his hand.
    I promised myself I would never shake that man’s hand, not ever.
    We never got around to talking about prom security issues.

68.
    I missed lunch, but I showed up for all my classes and turned in all my homework that day.
    Go, me.
    After the last bell, I walked to detention. And who was the day’s detention monitor?
    Mr. New Math Sub.
    Go, me!
    “You gonna be here the rest of the year?” I asked as he wrote out a pass excusing me.
    “As long as they let me stay,” he said.
    I took the pass. “Anything I can do to help?”
    “Get a couple of your friends to complain about me,” he said. “That should impress the administration.”
    I picked up my books. “No problem.”

69.
    Nat was waiting for me in the hall. It was scary the way that girl could track me down.
    “Thank God you got out,” she said. “We have so much to do.”
    “Sorry I missed the lunch meeting. I was talking to Gilroy. How did it go?”
    “Short, sweet, and to the point. The gym’s a lock and we have a lead on a DJ. I heard you got the English teachers confirmed.”
    “And the custodians.”
    “What did Mr. Gilroy say?”
    “I am disrespectful and have an attitude problem.”
    “What else is new? Did you guys decide on the security details? Do we have to meet with the police representative?”
    “He and I will talk about it tomorrow.”
    “Good.” She pulled out the pink notebook. “We have to call around about renting tables and chairs. We have enough cash for that. We can do it at my house. Grandma is at the Y today. Any chance your family has fifty extra tablecloths we can borrow?”
    I held up my hands. “Hold on. I might have to work. I have to call my boss.”
    “I already did. You’re not on tonight.”
    “You what?”
    “I called the restaurant. Two birthday parties cancelled on account of chicken pox, and the manager said he didn’t need you.”
    I leaned against the locker. “You called my boss.”
    “Yes, and you’re off tonight. Everyone is coming to my house to work on the flyers. They have to go up tomorrow or we’re screwed. Can we go now?”
    I crossed my arms over my chest. “I didn’t say you could do