Amy K. Green - The Prized Girl

She grabbed his hand to calm him down. “Thank you, Benjy. You’re so sweet.”

He steadied his feet. “You have to go change. They don’t give you a lot of time here for this one.”

“I know, I just wanted to give you something.” She reached into a slit in her costume and pulled out the note, folded up into a small square.

“A note for me?” He beamed.

“Yup.” She handed it over. “Don’t read it yet. Wait till after the show, OK?”

“OK.”

“’K, gotta run.”

“Good luck,” he said as she ran backstage.

LINDA PULLED JENNY’S HAIR back so tight under the bunny ears she thought she might cry. Not an emotional cry, but an uncontrollable release of pain. Large pink satin bunny ears were affixed firmly to her head with about twenty bobby pins. Whiskers were drawn on her face with a thick eye pencil, then highlighted with sequins. One more light pass of translucent powder over Jenny’s face and Linda was satisfied.

“Perfect.” She glowed.

FROM THE WINGS, Jenny caught a glimpse of Benjy, two rows back on the far aisle. He was staring down into his lap. Benjy usually never took his eyes off the stage. She wasn’t even sure he blinked. Jenny nudged forward to get a better look.

It was her note. She should have just let him read the note when she gave it to him. Linda could have waited another five minutes. He began unfolding it.

Another girl finished smiling, waving, and bunny-hopping around the stage. Jenny was next. She edged closer to the curtain without taking her eyes off Benjy as he read. His face twisted, and then he was out of his chair, head tucked down, running for the exit.

In a split second, Jenny was running backstage. She excused herself through her peers, who were shocked to see the one to beat bailing in a panic. She slipped out into the hallway just in time to see Benjy close himself in the janitorial closet down the hall.

She ran toward the closet, heels clacking on the tile floor. As she reached the door, she heard her name announced onstage. She hesitated only a second. She was going to be disqualified. Linda was going to have a panic attack.

Jenny knocked softly on the closet door. “Benjy, it’s Jenny. Can I come in?”

“Go away.”

“It’s going to be OK. I’m coming in.”

She slowly opened the door. Benjy was sitting in the corner next to a mop bucket, his arms wrapped around his knees. Jenny knelt down beside him and put her hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t want to make you upset. I just wanted to tell you, because you’re my friend.”

“We’re friends?”

“Of course,” she said.

“You’re so good at pageants. Why do you want to stop?”

“I don’t like it. It’s almost every weekend on the road with only my mother. They’re all the same. I just want to try something else.”

“Your mom’s gonna be real mad.”

“I know. Now give me a hug and let’s go finish this one.” She wrapped her arms around him. His hug was soft and encompassing. Jenny felt calm and quiet for the first time in a long time until the door flung open. She lunged away from Benjy, but it was too late. They’d been seen.

Linda’s scream filled the hall. The sound was piercing. “Get away from her!” she screeched. “Someone call the police!” Linda grabbed Jenny by the arm, pulling her like a rag doll out of the closet. She slammed the door closed, trapping Benjy inside.

“Mom, stop! He’s harmless.” Jenny tried to pull her mom away from the door to free Benjy, but her solid thighs were too much. Linda didn’t budge.

“Call the police!” Linda screamed again.

Benjy was banging on the door from the inside.

“Let him out! You’re scaring him.” Jenny punched her mother in the stomach, her satin bunny ears flopping back and forth.

A crowd gathered around. No one was sure what to do. Jenny was pageant royalty, her mom the queen. The pageant director pushed through the spectators. He grabbed Jenny by both arms and pulled her from her mother.

“Linda, what’s going on?”

“Call the police. A pervert was attacking my daughter and I’ve trapped him in here.”

“No! She’s lying.” Jenny flailed in the director’s arms and he tightened his grip.

“Take Jenny away. I’ll handle this,” he said to Linda, and they exchanged prisoners, Jenny for Benjy.

Linda squeezed her arms so tight her fingernails broke Jenny’s skin. She dragged her daughter toward the exit while Jenny scrambled her feet, unsuccessfully trying to regain control of her body.

“I hate pageants!” Jenny screamed toward the gawkers. “You’re the perverts, not him.” Jenny had never acted like this. She was a rabid animal. “I’m never doing one of these ever again. Do you hear me?” And with that, Linda shoved her out the door. Jenny’s last pageant.

JENNY AGREED TO see the school guidance counselor, Ms. Willoughby, as a compromise with her parents for skipping cheerleading tryouts. Linda thought with a little counseling Jenny would change her mind. Her father didn’t care so much about cheerleading as long as Jenny replaced it with some sort of extracurricular activity. His exact phrasing was, “I won’t let that school cultivate your lack of ambition like it did for your sister,” which was his pretentious way of saying Virginia had done nothing then, so she did nothing now, as if a semester of volleyball was the solution.

The most interesting thing about Ms. Willoughby was that she was dating Mr. Renkin, and the halls echoed with rumors of students catching them hooking up. Jenny sat outside Ms. Willoughby’s office waiting for her turn, but when the door was flung open, it wasn’t another misguided student; it was the man himself, Mr. Renkin.

“Jenny …” He stopped in his tracks.

“Hi.”

“Hope you aren’t in any trouble,” he said, winking as if the idea were impossible. That was annoying. He didn’t know anything about her. She just looked at him, no need for further conversation. He brushed it off and continued on his way.

Jenny stood and poked her head into Ms. Willoughby’s office. It was depressing; there wasn’t even a window. She sat at a small desk, rubbing her forehead and staring blankly at the papers on her desk.

“Ms. Willoughby?” Jenny said, not sure if she should be interrupting.

The counselor looked up. “Oh, Jenny, come in.”

Jenny took a seat as Ms. Willoughby shuffled the papers away.

“So, what brings you to see me?”

“My parents wanted me to. I skipped cheerleading tryouts and now they’re worried I’m becoming a delinquent.”

“Are you?”

Jenny couldn’t help but laugh. “My mother thinks you’re going to convince me to do it.”

“I’m not here to convince you of anything. I think you should only do what you feel comfortable with. I’m just here to help.”

“Were you a cheerleader?” Jenny asked, wondering if the pretty blonde woman in front of her had walked in her shoes and survived.

“Not quite.” Ms. Willoughby glanced down and smiled, slipping momentarily into her own memories. “You’re at a difficult age. How old are you? Fourteen?”

“Next month.”

“Some people are exactly who they are from the day they’re born, but for most of us, we change, and that’s completely normal. Don’t be afraid to change, even if other people give you a hard time.”

“My mom’s not going to like that advice.”

“Well, sometimes it’s hard for a parent to look at their own child objectively. Just know that someday you’re going to move out of that house. You’ll be on your own, and if you let your parents make all your decisions, you won’t be prepared.”

This woman was basically telling her to disobey her parents but in a totally alluring way that made it seem not only appropriate but also a sign of maturity. Jenny was into it. None of her friends talked like this. Their idea of the future was next semester.