Read Online Prom by Laurie Halse Anderson - Free Book Online

all of a sudden.
    “Yes, Ashley?”
    “I don’t think we should use our cafeteria staff, no offense.”
    That got a round of applause.
    “What do you suggest?” Banks asked.
    “We could cook for ourselves, or get our families to help. My mom’s macaroni and cheese is famous in our neighborhood.”
    “Or we could just have cookies and stuff,” said Monica.
    “More liability issues,” said Gilroy. “Potential food poisoning.”
    “You saying my mother can’t cook?” I asked.
    “Wait, wait,” Nat said. “The football boosters make food for football games.”
    “Good point,” Banks said.
    “A lot of kids won’t go,” Lauren said. “They won’t think it’s a real prom if it’s at school.”
    “I see more negatives than positives in this scenario,” said Gilroy.
    “I think it’s a great idea,” Banks said. “I think we should try it.”
    The committee cheered. Gilroy pouted.
    “Don’t anybody leave, we have to make up to-do lists,” Nat said. “Ash, you’re going to help, right?”
    “Oh, no, no, no, that won’t work,” Gilroy said. “Ms. Hannigan here has way too many detentions to be able to participate in an extracurricular activity like this.”
    “How many does she have?” Banks asked.
    When Gilroy gave him the number, the girls gasped.
    “Are you sure?” I asked. “That sounds a little high to me.”
    “Are you accusing me of something?”
    “Let’s reconsider,” Banks said. “These girls need all the help they can get. Even convicts get time off for good behavior.”
    He laughed.
    I didn’t. Neither did Gilroy.
    “What if we cut her number of detentions in half?” Banks suggested. “With the requirement that she help the committee every day.”
    “That would be great!” Nat chirped.
    Gilroy’s eyes reminded me of a ferret we used to have. It liked to bite, too. “A noble idea, Mr. Banks, but contrary to district policy. The board wants us to enforce a ‘no exceptions’ discipline. If we let Miss Hannigan off the hook for her infractions, we set a dangerous precedent. I’m sure she understands.”
    “But, but . . .” Nat said.
    I wanted to pick up Gilroy by his smelly ferret tail and dangle him out the window.
    “I see your point,” Banks said. “We’re sorry, Ashley. You earn detention, you serve detention.”
    Gilroy opened the door. “That’s the way things work in the real world.”
    We were on the third floor. If I was dangling a ferret out the window and it tried to bite me, I’d drop it.
    Nat grabbed Mr. Banks’s sleeve. “But she can still help, can’t she? I mean, as long as she does her detentions, too.”
    “You said we need all the help we can get,” Lauren said.
    “I don’t see a problem with that,” Banks said. “Do you, Mr. Gilroy? I think it shows character, to help out friends in need. What do you say, Ashley?”
    Everybody turned and stared at me.
    Like I had a choice.

57.
    My so-called “knight in rusting armor” was not waiting for me after school. Not that I expected him or anything. Jerk.
    Nat said she’d drive me to work. We stopped at my house first ’cause I wanted to change. Before I opened the front door, I put my finger in her face.
    “Do not, I repeat, do not, say anything about the prom. Don’t even say the word ‘prom.’ Promise me.”
    Nat rolled her eyes. “Promise.”
    My brothers and father and dog were in the kitchen. Dad was dressed for a softball game: dirty cleats, tube socks, bright red shorts, and a tank top that showed too much hairy back. He was using tongs to pluck hot dogs out of a giant pot of boiling water. Mutt was spinning in the middle of the floor, his spit flying through the air like Silly String.
    So far, so good, you’re thinking. All-American dad cooking All-American food. Hungry dog freaking out.
    Think again.
    Dad waved a steaming hot dog in the air, shouted, “Pop fly!” and threw it across the kitchen. Mutt jumped and missed.
    “I got it,” Shawn screamed. He reached over