Free The Diamonds by Ted Michael Page B

litter.”
    Priya fluffed her hair. “Your mom shouldn't litter.”
    “Good one,” Clarissa said. “I love Your Mom jokes.” She grinned at Priya. “Or maybe I just love your actual mom.”
    We all laughed and started walking toward the movie complex. I imagined how I would direct this scene in a movie—probably in slow motion, with closeups of our faces and then a pan out to the four of us walking side by side. An electric song would be playing in the background, and I would make sure the cinematographer spent a good amount of time focusing on eachof us—Lili, in her maroon curtain dress; Priya, in her slutty nun habit; Clarissa, in her royal evening wear, looking like the voluptuous baroness she was; and me, a young Julie Andrews, heavily doused in liquid concealer but perhaps the prettiest I'd ever looked.
    Take that , Darcy McKibbon.
    Lili gasped. “Okay, don't look now, Clarissa, but you-know-who is standing right outside buying his ticket.”
    “Who?”
    “Anderson,” said Lili. “And Ryan and Duncan. Oh, and Tiger.”
    “Shit,” Clarissa said, grabbing my arm. “What are they doing here?”
    Obviously, the exact same thing we were.
    This is as good a time as any to give you a rundown of Anderson's friends.
    Ryan Brauer: a tight end on the football team with short chestnut hair, a forgettable face, an overly thick neck, and an even thicker personality.
    Duncan Correy: another football player. I can't remember his position, but Duncan is actually a cool guy.
    Tiger: also—surprise!—on the football team. Tiger's real name is Jeremy; his last name is Lyon, which sounds like “lion,” and before I got to Bennington, someone started calling him Tiger for the goof. I have nothing more to say about that.
    Anderson was definitely the leader of the pack, partly because he was the coolest of them, and partly, or even mainly, because he was the hottest.
    “Do you want to leave?” asked Lili. “We could always just leave.”
    “Or we could pretend like we don't know them and walk right by. I mean, we are in costume,” said Priya.
    “You're wearing a black cocktail dress,” I reminded her. “It's not exactly a disguise.”
    “Girls!” said Clarissa. “Let's not make this a bigger deal than it already is. Onward, shall we?”
    Clarissa started walking with the sort of determination I'd come to know her for. “Hi, boys,” she said as we approached the front door.
    Inside, I could see that the Roosevelt Multiplex was all decked out. The hills were alive, so to speak, with cardboard cutouts of mountains and flowers strewn about the lobby.
    Clarissa blinked. “Nice night for a musical.”
    “For sure,” Ryan said.
    Tiger nodded in our general direction. “Wassup, bitches?”
    Priya clucked her tongue. “Don't ever use that word when you're speaking to me, okay, Tiger?”
    “My deepest apologies,” Tiger said, getting down on one knee and holding out his hand. He had on a Yankees cap (backward) and a shirt that said: Don't hate me because I'm beautiful. Hate me because I f*cked your sister . “Would you care to accompany me to this evening's queer-a-palooza—I mean, sing-along?”
    Priya looked him up and down a few times. “You're not exactly dressed for the occasion,” she said, seeming disappointed. “Where's your costume?”
    “Oh, here,” said Tiger, standing up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gigantic cross, which looked more appropriate for a 50 Cent video than a Rodgers and Hammerstein musical. “How about now?”
    “Much better,” Priya said, raising her own cross and clinking it with Tiger's. “We match.”
    “I cannot believe what you two are wearing,” Lili said, pointing to Ryan and Duncan, who were in matching lederhosen and white dress shirts. “Where did you get those?”
    “Lederhosen for Less,” Duncan joked. “It's right next to Abercrombie at the mall.”
    “Be serious,” said Lili.
    “You be serious,” said Ryan.
    “My older brother had them