Rock and a Hard Place

chapter 12

“Hair up or down?”

Libby perched on a kitchen stool in the smal bathroom of Miss Orman’s apartment. Hair and makeup paraphernalia cluttered the tiny counter.

“Both,” she answered. “I want the front and sides up and then the back to fal in a bunch of curls. Can we do that?”

“We can do anything.” Miss Orman studied Libby’s long hair, determining how best to begin.

Sitting together, in front of the giant mirror, reminded Libby of the times she watched her mother get ready for special parties with her dad. She and Sarah would sit on the counter and laundry hamper playing with her mom’s cosmetics. They laughed and teased each other as Mom artfuly applied makeup, occasionaly brushing blush on their faces or spritzing them with perfume.

Miss Orman brushed through Libby’s hair; her summer highlights stil shimmered. Libby closed her eyes and imagined it was Mom who held the brush and hummed as she worked. Perhaps she peered down from the heavens to guide Libby through this memorable day.

“Have you decided which dress?”

Miss Orman had borrowed two dresses from a friend’s daughter. Libby didn’t care if she wore a used dress; she was ecstatic to be going. Plus the dresses were beautiful.

“I like the pink and brown one.” It fit close to her body and then flowed loosely over her hips and legs. She transformed into a beautiful girl when she tried it on. The top tied behind her neck like a halter top and revealed her back. The front showed just the right amount of cleavage.

“That’s my favorite too. I like how the patterns swirl together.

Plus, you look amazing in it. Any boy would be crazy not to fal at your feet.” Miss Orman used the curling iron on Libby’s long locks.

“You think so?” Libby blushed, but for once it was out of excitement instead of humiliation.

She wondered what it would be like to spend an entire evening with Peter, dancing in his arms and letting the world see they belonged together. After losing her family she gave up on her dreams, but now, with Peter in her life, everything changed. He made dreaming possible again. She glowed down to the tips of her toes.

“The boys at school won’t know who you are. Everyone is so used to seeing you quiet and keeping to yourself, I can just imagine how surprised they wil be to see you. You are going to have a great time.” Miss Orman tugged on a lock of Libby’s hair and smiled.

They continued their preparations and chatted away the time.

Libby and Peter wouldn’t be going out to dinner. He couldn’t get there until shortly after the dance started, but she didn’t care. It was a miracle he could attend at al. Miss Orman offered to drive, since she was a chaperone for the night. Even Aunt Marge cooperated in alowing the night to happen. Everything fel perfectly into place.

After splitting a pizza and putting the final touches on Libby’s make up. Miss Orman zipped her into the beautiful dress. Libby barely recognized herself in the ful length mirror. The vision of a gorgeous young woman stood poised and confident before her.

Libby turned to Misss. Orman in disbelief.

“You look stunning,” Miss Orman said.

Libby flung herself into the woman’s arms. “Thank you.”

“It’s al you.” Miss Orman hugged her warmly. “And it’s been there al the time. Now, when do I finaly get to meet this mystery man?”

Just then Libby’s phone rang. They looked at each other and laughed.



# # #

“I’m here! We just landed.” Peter carried a smal duffel bag over his shoulder and a bag with Libby’s corsage in his hand. He’d never ordered flowers before. The corsage contained pink roses and daisies; roses for her beauty and daisies for her sweetness.

Libby reminded him of a flower blowing in the wind.

He wore a basebal cap to hide his famous face, but he doubted he’d be recognized. Traveling alone and without an entourage made getting around much simpler. Tonight should be smooth as silk. Thank God.

As they exited the plane, Roger walked ahead of him up the gangway.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe this is realy happening.” Libby’s voice bubbled from his phone.

“I know, me either. I told you we’d figure this out.” His excitement rivaled hers.

“So how much longer?”

“About an hour if we drive the speed limit, forty-five minutes if I have anything to say about it.” He wanted Libby in his arms.

This long distance thing was kiling him, but she was worth it.

“Guess I better get going or you’l beat me there. I can’t wait to see the look on the kids’ faces when you walk in. Good thing you have Roger with you.”

“Roger loves his job so much right now. He can’t wait to get there and try out his dance moves with the high school set. Wait ‘til you see what he’s wearing.”

Roger turned and growled at Peter. The only dress jacket they could find to fit his large girth at the last minute was dark purple velvet. He looked like an eighties pimp.

Libby giggled. “Hurry up, wil ya? My hair is already faling.”

“You did your hair?”

“Of course! It’s Homecoming.”

Roger stopped him as they entered the gate area. A serious looking airport official and security guard approached.

“Hey, I gotta go, something’s up, probably some security thing. I’l see you in an hour.”

“Hurry.”

He flipped the phone shut and stepped forward to speak to the official.

The loud bass from the cover band pumped into the corridor.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come in and enjoy the dance?” Miss Orman urged again, their earlier excitement long faded.

“No. I’l wait here.” Libby refused go into the gym with the other kids. When Peter arrived, she needed to be the first to lay eyes on him. No way would she miss the moment by standing alone in the darkened, Holywood-themed gym.

“He must have had car trouble,” her counselor offered.

Concern and yes, even pity etched Miss Orman’s face.

“Yeah, probably. Maybe a flat tire.” Libby nodded, her lips pinched with worry.

Something had obviously happened. Everything seemed fine when they talked two hours before. If a swarm of fans was the hold up, she swore she’d kil them al. Peter belonged to her tonight and no one else.

She paced the long halway again, the click of her il-fitted heels echoed with each step. She lowered herself onto a bench and checked her phone yet again for messages.

No power. Crap.

She’d been distracted al day and forgot to recharge the phone. This coveted device, the keeper of information, and her only connection to Peter, lay useless in her hand. She shook it and rubbed it between her hands, hoping to bring her phone back to life.

Unfortunately, her phone charger hid behind books on a shelf in her room. She couldn’t charge her phone without going back to the house, and then Aunt Marge would never let her out again. It was a big enough battle to leave the first time.

Two girls in slinky sequined dresses walked out of the bathroom and meandered down the hal. They eyed Libby.

“Why’s she sitting there alone?” one said.

“Supposedly her date’s meeting her here. She’d never want him to see where she lives,” replied the other.

“Looks like he stood her up.”

“Can you blame him?” They giggled cruely at her misfortune.

Libby slouched against the wal. Her once beautiful curls drooped against her shoulders. Their words hit hard, but they were right. He wasn’t coming. She knew it in her gut. Their perfect night ruined. Peter would not show. Tonight she planned to prove she was just like everyone else, even better. Instead, they would al witness her lonely wait for a boy who never arrived. Miss Orman’s pity would be the worst. She’d probably cal in a shrink on Monday to find out why Libby invented Peter.

More kids walked down the hal toward the restrooms. Libby rose. She couldn’t take any more ridicule. She walked to the double doors and stepped into the brisk night. Even though she felt certain Peter wouldn’t show, she continued her vigil and prayed he was okay.

What could possibly keep him away when he was so close?

A traffic jam? Not likely. Weather? He’d already landed and the weather was fine, cold and windy, but nothing to stop traffic. A car accident? She shivered at the thought. Please let him be okay.

She checked her phone again. It didn’t magicaly power on.

She returned it to her handbag, next to her lip gloss and two tickets for the dance. She puled out the beautifuly printed tickets with the school emblem pressed into the shiny paper.

“Oh Peter,” she breathed, the wind cold on her skin.

Something was wrong. Very very wrong.