The Jerk Magnet

There was something refreshing about being with adults again. It was odd, since for so many years Chelsea had totally resented the way she was always stuck in grown-up social situations instead of spending time with her own peers. Of course, that had simply been one of the many consequences of being a wallflower. But it felt familiar and comfortable now.

Being around Dad and Kate and their friends on Friday, going to the bridal shower that evening and a bridesmaid breakfast on Saturday morning—well, it all felt kind of relaxed and easy and fun. Quite a contrast to what Chelsea had been through recently, with her attempts to adjust to her new image, new friends, and a new school. Compared to that, this was a piece of cake—wedding cake.

The wedding ceremony was small and intimate. The chapel with stained-glass windows, the violin and cello, white roses, and creamy white satin—very romantic. So much so that Chelsea imagined that she might someday want a wedding similar to this one. Seeing Dad and Kate standing before the minister with tears in their eyes as they exchanged vows and rings made Chelsea cry too. It was sweet and wonderful, and she was happy for them.

The reception, held in a downtown hotel ballroom, was larger than the wedding and more lively and fun. Chelsea, still pretending she was an adult, enjoyed dancing with some of the guests and drinking her faux champagne as they toasted the newlyweds.

Before the party ended, Dad and Chelsea, with the background music of a borrowed karaoke CD, sang “Do You Know the Way to San Jose?” Everyone laughed and clapped, and Kate hugged them both. “That was absolutely beautiful!” She kissed Chelsea on both cheeks. “Thank you so much, darling. Thank you for allowing me into your life. And thank you for sharing your dad with me.”

Chelsea was crying again. “Thank you too, Kate. I’m so glad you’re part of our family now. I really need you in my life.”

Dad hugged and kissed her, saying all the things he probably thought she wanted to hear, like she was still his number one girl and that sort of fatherly thing. But she forgave him for it. She knew his heart was in the right place. She also knew that, as much as she loved Kate and Dad and wanted the best for them, she was no longer Dad’s number one girl. That was impossible.

Finally the happy couple told everyone goodbye and departed for their honeymoon. The plan was for them to ride the limo to the airport, where they would board an all-night flight that would land them, pleasantly exhausted, in Maui early in the morning tomorrow. Meanwhile Chelsea would go home with Kate’s mom, Margie, where she would spend the night. Tomorrow morning, Margie would deliver Chelsea to the airport to catch a flight back to San Jose, where Janelle and her mom had promised to pick up Chelsea around noon.

Chelsea knew she should be delighted that all the wedding festivities had gone so smoothly—they were hitched without a hitch. Right now she should be relieved that Dad and Kate were on their flight and safely on their way. Yet she felt inexplicably sad and lonely as she climbed into the squeaky bed in Margie’s musty-smelling guest room that night.

Chelsea closed her eyes and knew that, without God to talk to right now, she probably would be crying herself to sleep. As it was, she still felt a large, hard lump in her throat, and keeping the tears at bay was a challenge. So she prayed for strength.





On the way home from the airport, Janelle filled Chelsea in on the latest happenings at their school. Riley Atkins had lost the homecoming queen crown to one of her best friends. “Although I’m sure Vanessa Renaldo can consider herself an ex-friend now. No one even knows how she won since Vanessa is even snootier than Riley.”

“I feel sorry for Riley,” Chelsea said.

“So do I,” Mrs. Parker said.

Janelle rolled her eyes.

To change the subject and to fill in the empty air, Chelsea told them about the wedding, yapping on and on until they were home. “I’m going to go to my house for a while,” she said, “just to do homework and stuff.”

“Feel free to come over whenever you like,” Mrs. Parker said. “Dinner’s at seven.”

“You don’t really have to come to dinner unless you want to,” Janelle told her as she and Chelsea walked next door. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

“I think dinner with a family sounds fun.”

Again Janelle rolled her eyes. Then she told Chelsea about her latest plans for camp next weekend. “I got us a room to ourselves.”

“How?”

“Promise you won’t get mad?”

“What did you do?” Chelsea paused from unlocking the front door.

“I called and told the registrar that you had AIDS.”

“AIDS?”

“She promised to keep it hush-hush.”

“AIDS?”

“Actually, I said HIV. I said it was the result of a blood transfusion during your appendectomy.”

“My appendectomy?” Chelsea suppressed the urge to scream as she went into the living room and dumped her bags.

“When you were six,” Janelle explained like she was reading a medical report, “your appendix nearly burst. They got it out just in time, but because you were in a third-world country, the blood was infected with—”

“Third-world country?” Chelsea stared at Janelle.

“Uganda. Your parents were missionaries. They had to come home due to your health issues.”

“You should start writing novels.”

“Anyway, I told the registrar that you were very self-conscious about the whole thing, and it was hard enough to get you to come to camp without you feeling like everyone knows this about you.”

“Right.” Chelsea sank down on the sofa and just shook her head. “I leave you alone for a few days, and this is what happens.”

“Hey, it’s not easy to get a room to ourselves.”

“Janelle . . .” Chelsea sighed. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

“It’s a great idea. And it’s going to be my research project—I’m going to use it for my psychology class. Also, I plan to keep those appointments at the places Kate called for me. I’m actually starting to look forward to this.”

“Really? You mean the makeover part or camp?”

“Both.”

Chelsea didn’t know what to say. On the flight home, she’d decided to pull the plug on this plan, but seeing Janelle so gung ho made it difficult. “Well, I need to do some laundry.” She stood and picked up her bags. “And I’ve got homework to do.”

“I emailed you some homework too.” Janelle stood and smiled. “I’m glad you’re home, Chelsea. I missed you.”

Chelsea hugged her. “Thanks. I missed you too.”

Janelle went back to her house, and Chelsea got her first load of laundry going and started to work on her homework. Her plan now was to put fall camp out of her mind. After all, she had all week to figure that one out. But homework was due tomorrow. First things first.





To Chelsea’s disappointment, Dayton apologized to her on Monday. Taking her aside in the cafeteria, he told her he was sincerely sorry. “I don’t know what came over me,” he finally said. “I think I was just all worked up over the game and homecoming and stuff.”

“Dayton,” she began carefully, “I accept your apology. But I have to stick to what I already told you. I only want to be friends.”

He frowned. “I blew it, didn’t I?”

“No.” She shook her head. “What you did last week didn’t change anything with me. It is what it is, Dayton. You’ve been a good friend, and I’d really like to keep it that way.”

Chelsea noticed a number of people watching them. Some furtively. Some, like Riley, were blatantly staring.

His face got stony, like he couldn’t believe she was turning him down again.

“Dayton?”

“What?”

“What happened between you and Riley?”

He shook his head. “I told you already. We broke up.”

“You said she broke up with you, right?”

“She did.”

“Why?”

“Huh?” He looked confused.

“Why did she break up with you? I mean, I see her watching you and me all the time. She’s not going with anyone else. I’m just curious . . . why did she break up with you when it seems like she still likes you?”

He shrugged. “What’s the difference?”

“I’m just curious.”

“Then maybe you should ask her.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

She put a hand on his shoulder. “I do mean it though, Dayton. I would still like to be your friend. But I’ll understand if you don’t want that.”

Again he shook his head, then he turned and walked away. Suddenly she felt even more conspicuous. Standing there by herself, she wasn’t sure whether she should walk away too. Or maybe she should return to where Janelle and some of the others were sitting. Finally she decided to do something totally out of the blue. No one, not even Dayton, would expect her to do this.

She walked over to Riley. “Can we talk?” she asked.

Riley looked surprised, understandably. But she stood and followed Chelsea over to an empty table by the wall, where they both sat down. “I don’t know if you know it or not, but I’ve never really been dating Dayton. We’ve only been friends. That’s all.”

Riley’s expression was blank. “I don’t know why that should concern me one way or another.”

“I don’t know either.” Chelsea studied her closely. “Except that I always catch you watching me when I’m with Dayton, and you’ve seemed, uh, unhappy about it.”

Riley’s expression crumbled a bit, and she looked uneasy.

“I get the impression that you might still like him.”

“That’s totally ridiculous.”

“Really?”

Riley’s blue eyes flashed. “Did he tell you that?”

“No. Not at all. In fact, he wouldn’t even tell me why you guys broke up in the first place.”

“Maybe it’s none of your business.” Riley gave her a hard look, flipping her shiny blonde hair over her shoulder almost like a challenge.

“Maybe.” For a brief instant Chelsea felt in over her head. What was she doing sitting here talking about all this with someone like Riley? Just the same, she continued. “Do you want to know what I think?”

Riley gave a half shrug.

“Fine, I won’t bore you with it then.” Chelsea stood.

“Wait.” Riley looked at her with desperation. “Yes, I’d like to hear what you think. Please, sit down.”

Chelsea sat back down. “Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I think Dayton still likes you, Riley, and I think you still like him. But I think he hurt your feelings last year. I suspect he pressured you, just like he’s pressured me from time to time, and I think you’d had enough. Is that about right?”

Riley sighed, then nodded.

“Maybe you did the right thing too, I mean by breaking up.” Chelsea drummed her fingers on the table. “Dayton does need to be put in his place sometimes. He can be too pushy and demanding.”

“That’s for sure.”

“I’m not suggesting you give him a second chance . . .”

Riley locked eyes with her. “What then?”

Chelsea shrugged. “I’m not sure. I guess I’m saying I understand.”

Riley’s expression softened. “Thanks.”

“But if you do get back with him . . . stand your ground. Don’t let him push you around. Okay?”

Riley smiled. “Yeah. I get you.”

“Sorry to hear you lost homecoming queen last week.”

Riley’s mouth twisted slightly to one side. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

Feeling there was nothing left to say, Chelsea started to leave.

“Wait, Chelsea.”

She paused.

“Why did you bother to tell me any of that? I mean, you didn’t have to. I certainly haven’t been very nice to you.”

“I think it’s because on one level I do like Dayton. I think he could be an okay guy. But he needs to stop acting like a jerk.”

Riley laughed. “You got that right!”

Chelsea smiled. “I’m sure that you, like me, get tired of attracting guys who are jerks. I mean, who needs a jerk by her side?”

“For sure.” Riley lifted a hand to give her a high five.

Chelsea slapped her palm. “But maybe there’s hope for Dayton. Like maybe the right girl—a strong one who really cares about him—might be able to reform the poor guy.”

Riley nodded. “Dayton as a reformed jerk. I can imagine that.”

“You’d have your work cut out for you.”

“It might be worth one more shot.”

Chelsea shrugged. “So I guess that’s why I told you.” Chelsea saw that even more eyes were watching her now. Because she didn’t want to have to go back to her friends and explain the whole thing in detail, like they would want, she just wished Riley good luck and exited the cafeteria. Maybe she would keep them guessing.





For the rest of the week, Chelsea and Janelle practiced their characters every evening. Chelsea became Trina Johnson, a mousy, geeky, shy girl. Janelle turned herself into Brittany Woodard, a pretty, witty blonde whose family had recently relocated from Mobile, Alabama.

“I watch Sweet Home Alabama every night before I go to bed,” she confessed. “I actually woke up with a Southern drawl this morning, and I had to remember to switch back to my normal voice at school.”

Doing the Trina character was frighteningly easy for Chelsea. Other than a change in her voice, which she lowered to avoid being recognized, Trina’s demeanor and mannerisms were nearly identical to the old Chelsea. So much so that as Friday approached, Chelsea/Trina no longer felt guilty about the little experiment they were conducting. She was simply playing her previous self by another name.

Janelle had done a good job of developing her character too. Between her Southern drawl, which she had down pat, and her flamboyant gestures, she could pass as Reese Witherspoon’s little sister.

“Just be careful not to go too far with the Southern lingo,” Chelsea told her Thursday night. “You don’t want to come across as a cartoon character.”

“You think I look like a cartoon?” Janelle peered at herself in the mirror, patting her very realistic-looking wig—she’d spent hours working on that wig to get it just right. It was amazing how much it changed Janelle to go from brunette to blonde.

“You look fantastic,” Chelsea reassured her. “I was talking about how you sound. Don’t get too goofy or people will start to wonder. I really want to pull this off.”

“Wait until you see me in full costume.” Janelle practiced her strut, going back and forth from the kitchen to the great room in Chelsea’s house. It had been a challenge for her to get used to the platform boots she’d gotten for her role, but those boots combined with the straight-legged jeans really did make her look taller.

Chelsea pointed to Janelle’s fuller-than-usual chest. “I thought you were in full costume.”

Janelle laughed. “Well, as far as clothing goes. But I still have my appointment tomorrow, which reminds me—I told Mom that you and I were going to be in a camp skit and that we had to go in costume.”

“Huh?”

“You should be glad that I was partially telling the truth,” Janelle said. “I told her we were doing a role reversal skit to show kids how they sometimes treat people differently just because they look differently, and how that can be hurtful. My mom actually thought it was a cool idea. She promised not to tell anyone.”

“But what if someone sees her dropping us off at church? Won’t they recognize your car and your mom and figure it out?” Chelsea hadn’t really thought about all these details until now.

“My mom will be dropping us off at a different church—it’s a really big one in the city, the one I registered us with. I told Mom we need to go there so that our youth group wouldn’t catch on to our disguise and spill the beans.”

“Man, Janelle, with a mind like yours, I hope you never decide to go into a life of crime.”

Janelle laughed as she adjusted the belt she’d borrowed from Chelsea, which looked great on her jeans. “Don’t worry. I have no desire to spend time behind bars.”

“What do you think will happen if we get caught doing this?”

“Believe me, I’ve given that a lot of thought. And I decided we’ll simply tell the truth—because we are doing a social experiment. Really, why should anyone care? The worst they could do would be to send us home, and I kind of doubt that would happen. I mean, once they understood our reasoning.”

Chelsea nodded. “That’s true.”

“So don’t worry, okay?”

“Okay.”