Free Why Me? by Sarah Burleton Page B

me, and his hair was greased back—not exactly what I had pictured as my Prince Charming. But I looked at his eyes and immediately felt guilty for being judgmental. He had the kindest, brightest eyes I had ever seen, and his smile immediately put me at ease.
    “Sarah, I’m so sorry! I told Susan that I would do it, but she didn’t want to wait!”
    “So this isn’t a joke?” I asked hesitantly.
    “God, no! I just like you and I thought I’d ask you to Homecoming. I’m just really shy, so Susan usually does all my dirty work!”
    “Holy crap. This is for real!” I thought to myself. “Really? You’re asking me to Homecoming?” I asked Brian with a hint of sarcasm in my voice.
    “Well, Susan asked you officially,” Brian said with a laugh.
    “Um … yes!” I said excitedly.
    Brian held out his hand and said, “So … do we shake on it or what?”
    I grabbed his hand and shook it firmly. “It’s a date!” I said.
    My head was swimming. I had never been asked out on a date before, especially one as important as the Homecoming dance. I had given up all hopes of dating the moment everyone started calling me “Harvester” at school, but Brian didn’t seem to care. “Maybe he doesn’t know my reputation,” I thought anxiously. But that was impossible. “He has to know—he’s lived in this town longer than I have!”
    For the rest of the day, I found it very hard to concentrate on anything but the upcoming dance. What was I going to wear? How was I going to do my hair? What kind of makeup could I wear? It wasn’t until last period, about half an hour before the final bell rang, when it hit me. “Mom is never going to let me do this!” I said to myself. Immediately my stomach sank and tears welled up in my eyes. “She is never going to let me go!” I considered finding Brian after school and telling him to forget it, risking another blow to my reputation, but something inside me didn’t want to throw up the white flag of surrender to my mother just yet.
    When the final bell rang, I got up, gathered my books, and headed out the front doors toward home. I took the long way home that day, contemplating various scenarios that I could present to my mother: deals I could make in order to get this one night, this one special night. I was deep in thought when a car pulled up beside me.
    “Hey—you need a lift?”
    I looked up. It was Brian, driving his dad’s rusted old pickup truck, holding the door open for me to jump in. All thoughts of Mom left my head as I hopped into the passenger seat and slammed the door. For the next five minutes, Brian and I talked as if we had known each other for years. We talked about the little town we lived in, our mutual friends, school, and our pets. For the first time in a long time, I was comfortable, relaxed, and felt good around one of my peers.
    Unfortunately, that feeling vanished when Brian’s truck squeaked to a stop in front of my house. “Here you go!” Brian said cheerfully. “We’ll talk more about Homecoming tomorrow!”
    I looked at him and didn’t have the heart to tell him that my mom was never going to let me go. “Absolutely!” I said, quickly jumping out of the truck. Brian waved and honked as he pulled away.
    I turned around and looked at the front door. There was Mom, peeking out from behind the curtain. I didn’t want to go in. I didn’t want to deal with the questions, the insults, and then the beating that was sure to come. I was half tempted to run down the road after Brian, but I quickly changed my mind when Mom opened the door.
    “Come on in, Sarah!” she said sarcastically. She stood to the side and held the front door open for me to enter. I walked in, flinching slightly out of habit as I passed her, and sat down at the kitchen table, waiting for the tirade to begin. I didn’t have to wait long. Mom slammed the door and whipped around at me. “What are you now? A little whore? He has to be at least sixteen if he’s driving!